#the more i ponder and think about him in a committed relationship

[celiababy]

Ain't Right part 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel thinks you deserve better.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral f!receiving, cockwarming, size kink, skinny dipping, angsty, kinda asshole/grumpy Joel, mention of alcohol

Celia's note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG. but i threw in that much request angst i hope yall enjoy!!!!! Also happy valentines day!!! peace n luv fr

Aint Right part 1 Ain't Right part 2

Recently, life has been great for you.

Winter was gone as fast as it came, and spring started to take root in Jackson. Your favorite season.

The months that passed since Christmas had been like a dream. You and Joel's relationship had been all unicorns and rainbows—well, to you, anyway.

Finally, you were starting to pry open the gates to Joel's thoughts. Becoming close with him meant so much to you, even when he would off-handedly share information about himself by accident, you'd immediately commit it to long-term memory.

He didn't like to talk about himself much, but when he did, you were all ears.

Joel, on the other hand, didn't have to try as hard with you.

There was a constant flow of words out of your mouth, especially around him. You couldn't help it, really. You talked when you were nervous, and you were always nervous around Joel—that never went away.

But all in all, you were overflowing with happiness.

Joel, however, was feeling a little differently.

Ever since this relationship with you started, he's had this subtle ache about it.

His insecurities of being an old man were eating at him, day by day. His conscious just couldn't stop pestering him with the idea that you deserved better.

He felt that by being intimate with you, as much as he liked it, was holding you back from living your life.

By allowing you to indulge in this relationship with him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was setting your life up for failure.

He was picturing some White Fang situation where you were some wild animal that was getting too close to him, and in order to prevent you from getting hurt by domestication, he'd have to throw rocks at you and tell you to 'go on an' git'. Even though he deeply cared about you.

These insecurites really came to the surface whenever you two were in bed together.

He was 56 years old, for crying out loud. He had two rounds in him max, anything more might give him a heart attack.

He'd clock the little disappointed pout you'd make when he couldn't go again, even when you tried to act otherwise. He was just in his head about the entire thing—which was so unlike him.

You were doin' things to him, thats for damn sure.

Joel couldn't deny the affect you had on him anymore. You were starting to become a top priority; he was unable to stop himself from putting you first.

How was it so easy for you to become to important in his life?

He pondered this thought while coming back from a supply run, riding in on horseback. The sound of hooves crunching twigs and rocks was an oddly theraputic sound, one that helped stop him from thinking so much.

Upon his return, Joel drops off his supplies and guides his horse back into its stable. He gives it a few loving pats before leaving, walking down the main road with the breeze in his hair.

His eyes scan the people crowding the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of his favorite face.

And he does.

Eventually, Joel spots you, helping an older lady up her porch steps. You’re smiling, eyes sparkling like everything in the world was all fine and dandy.

It never got easier seeing you wear cooler clothes in public.

Sure, he's seen your naked body plenty of times, but there was something about you in a tank top, jean shorts and cowboy boots that just did things to him.

His heart tugs in his chest as he watches you complete the kind act, skipping back down the steps once the lady waves you goodbye.

That’s when you see him, across the street, just staring at you.

Your face lights up like fireworks when you notice. It always did. But Joel never got tired of seeing it.

He watches you jog his way, nearly running straight into him but managing to stop yourself last second.

“Hey! How’d that run go?” You ask, beaming up at him and trying your hardest not to smack his lips with yours.

“Good.” He nods, clenching his jaw.

Jesus, you looked so good right now—Joel was having a very hard time focusing on what to say when you were distracting him with your bangin’ bod.

“Good.” You copy, finding a moment to assess him. He seemed tense, more tense than usual. Joel knows you’re about to ask him what’s wrong—and he can’t face that question right now.

So he speaks before he knows what he’s saying. “You should come out with me again, next time, I mean. Actually try n' help instead of.. flirt.”

He's disgusing his intense feelings for you with an insult, because of course he is.

You scoff at his diss, rolling your eyes. “You loved my flirtin’.” You copied his texan drawl to mock him, earning you a glare.

“Well, I’d love to. Is it a date?” You purr, stepping into his personal space, prompting Joel to make quick use of his self control.

If he could act on his impulse, he would have bent you over and fucked you right there on the sidewalk.

He clears his throat before nodding. “Sure. Tomorrow. It’s a date.” He bites out like it pains him, because in truth, he'd rather take you out to dinner or something than another stupid supply run.

You’re smiling again, swaying on your feet. You make a few glances around to make sure no one’s watching before popping up and kissing him on his cheek.

“Kay, see you then." You chirp ever so sweetly, walking away in your small jean shorts.

You were really tugging on his heart strings.

When tomorrow comes, you're sitting on your porch swing, waiting for Joel to come and get you.

You were excited—mainly because you two would be out of sight from prying eyes. You could act on all your impulses.

You didn't mind people figuring you two out, you're kind of sure they already had, but you felt that Joel did care, and you wanted to respect his boundaires. Even though he never made those clear.

But, you felt you were pushing it with that kiss on the cheek yesterday, and you didn't want him upset with you.

The sudden thought made you worry.

Maybe he was upset with you. He did glare at you yesterday.

You probably did something, your anxious mind tells you.

You're snapped out of your thoughts due to the sound of hooves clopping against the road. Looking up, you're met with the pleasure-inducing sight of Joel.

He's walking with a horse beside him, holding its lead with a trained hand.

He's wearing that faded gray shirt and those jeans that seem like they're hanging on by a thread. So casual.

But, then you take a closer look at his appearance. He...trimmed his beard and attempted to slick back his hair...?

...Was he trying to look nice for you?

"Did you get all pretty for me?" You ask with a giddy smile, skipping down your steps.

He grumbles something incoherent under his breath before rolling his eyes. Yet, you swear you can see the faintest bit of blush on his cheeks. "You ready to go?" He asks, gesturing to the horse.

He's trying to change the subject, but you need to let him know you appreciate his efforts.

"You look really good, Joel. I mean—you always look good, but today especially." You bring your hand up to feel his hair, smiling happily. He can tell you're being geniune, but he's never been good with compliments.

"Thanks, sweetheart—now get on the damn horse." He sounds exasperated, but theres a small smile on his lips.

He helps you up onto the back before climbing on himself. "Wrap yer arms 'round me. Don't fall off." He murmurs, steering the horse towards the gates.

You slide up so that your chest is pressed against his back, and outstretch your arms to wrap around him. Once you two successfully leave the town and no one is watching, that's when you rest your cheek on his shoulder blade.

It's cozy. It's intimate. It's Joel.

You could fall asleep against him like this.

He remains silent because he knows how peaceful you feel right now. He wants to let you enjoy the moment.

You're admiring the forest scenary, occasionally resting your eyes. You don't know where Joel is taking you—maybe he's heading straight towards the middle of nowhere to drop you off and leave. Getting rid of you probably would've been in his best interest.

You're smiling at the thought because you know yourself. Even if he did do that, you'd find a way back to him. Like a loyal dog.

"Wait," Your voice cracks through the silence. Joel stops the horse, turning his head back to look at you. "Is that a lake?" He turns his head to where you're looking, his eyes catching the blue water that you're so enamoured by.

"Don't know what else it would be."

You roll your eyes at his smartassary. "...Can we go?"

"To the lake?" He reiterates, a confused look on his face. "'N do what?"

You shrug your shoulders, feeling stupid for asking all the sudden.

Immediately, Joel notices how you shrink into yourself. He wants to punch himself in the dick because he's being an asshole.

To fix his mistake, he makes a clicking sound with his tongue and steers the horse down to the body of water.

You're giddy again in no time, a soft but excited squeal escaping your throat.

He manages to find a small clearing within the brush; open tall grass, a fallen tree trunk perfect for sitting, and direct access to the lake.

"So pretty." You muse, simply in awe of the nature around you.

You didn't really leave town much—only when you had to. So, seeing stuff like this, really meant a lot to you.

Joel gets off the horse and immediately turns to help you down. His hands find themselves on your hips while yours latch onto his shoulders.

He lowers you effortlessly, his grasp lingering for longer than it needed to.

Your skin lights on fire at his touch, dirty thoughts instantly flooding your brain.

The lake, the seculsion, the tension...there was really only one thing you were thinking about right now.

"Hey, what if we just...didn't go on that supply run?" You muse, avoiding eye contact for a moment because no matter how close you've gotten with Joel, he still made you nervous.

He shoots you a questioning look, which gives you the idea to show rather than tell.

You step closer to the waters edge, beginning to take off your boots. Joel's watching with that stern look, but it quickly fades, replaced with lust when you start shedding off your clothes.

First your shorts, then your tank top.

"Let's go swimming!" You say with that happy smile, the one that makes his heart beat soar.

He can't stop his eyes from devouring every inch of your stark naked body.

Not only did Joel enjoy your pert breasts and supple ass, he was also equally obsessed with the not overtly sexual things about you. Your hair, shoulders, collar bone, forearms, the curve of your spine—everything, he was consumed by it all.

He realizes that he needs to answer you, but all that comes out is a scoff.

"Hey—no. We don't know what the hells in that water." He huffs as his boner peaks through his jeans.

"Fine, guess I'll swim alone then." You say nonchalantly, knowing if you went in, odds were, Joel wouldn't be far behind.

And you were right.

As soon as you enter the cool water, you see Joel starting to undress in the corner of your eye.

You pretened you're not watching, and eventually he joins you in the lake.

You've waded out rather far into the water, waiting to speak until you know Joel is close.

"Doesn't it feel nice?" You ask, letting your body float above the surface, limbs outstretched while you stared up at the fluffy clouds.

If you could do this forever, you would. Naked as the day you were born, floating in warm spring water with Joel's company—maybe this was heaven.

Sure felt like it.

You almost don't even notice Joel's palm run up your shin and thigh, only when his hand lightly drifts over your lower stomach, is when you become all too aware.

Yet, he doesn't venture south.

Instead, he makes a path further up your stomach, then your ribs, then the valley of your breasts, until he rests his hand over your heart.

You stare at his face as he completes this insane act, completely baffled at the fact that he seemed so entranced and calm, while you were trying not to freak out.

He notices your stare, and finally meets your eye contact. No words leave his mouth—he can't seem to find any that feel right.

But he's thinking about how beautiful you are. How sweet and doting, how smart and witty. Everything about you encompassed into a few short words just didn't feel worthy enough.

But you can't just leave things the way they are.

Slowly, you situate yourself around him, attaching to his body like a koala bear. Your arms slide around his shoulders while your legs wrap around his waist.

Skin to skin, face to face, so fucking intense.

Joel's strong arms find themselves around your torso, keeping you close to him.

"Yeah, it does feel nice." Joel replies, his voice soft, his eyes even softer.

You smile, big and geniune, a feeling of bliss taking over you. "Isn't this so much better than some silly supply run?"

Joel rolls his eyes, which spurs you on even more.

"Come on, admit it; you'd rather be out here with me, than some stinky convience store looting pills." You tighten your legs a little around his torso, feeling your cunt become flush with his bare stomach.

You feel a surge of pride when his breath hitches and his erect cock prods at your ass.

But it doesn't take long for his expression to fall back into its natural scowl.

"M'not admitin' shit." He murmurs, bringing a hand up to move your wet hair over your shoulder and onto your back. It's an absentminded motion, one that Joel isn't really thinking about doing.

He just felt the urge to touch you.

You giggle at him, dropping your forehead to his shoulder to laugh.

Joel huffs, trying to stop smirking because your giggle is contagious. "Quit." Is all he says, shaking his head. "Can't believe you got me out 'ere doin' this shit." He grumbles, adjusting his hold on you slightly.

"What 'shit'?" You mimick him and his texan drawl, earning you a stern glare.

"Naked in a lake like m'some fuckin' teenager." He speaks with an unamused expression, before his eyes land back onto you and his gaze softens. "What're you doin' to me, huh?"

It's a rhetorical question, but he says it like he's truly desperate for an answer.

You're not sure how to respond. His eye contact is making your brain all foggy.

It's silent.

You can only hear the rustling water, your breathing, and the general nature sounds in the distance.

Joel knows he confused you with his words, so he takes a moment to look away.

"Alright," He huffs out eventually. "Time to go."

He doesn't give you a chance to protest because he's already walking back to the shore, his arm remaining secured tightly around your back, basically carrying you.

You're not ready to leave, but you know Joel is, so you just opt for a dejected sigh.

He lets you back down on your feet when you're both on the grass, lingering his hand on the small of your back when he picks up your clothes. He uncrinckles your shirt before opening it up so you could easily put it on.

"This is becoming a habit of yours." You murmur softly, putting on the tank top and cringing at the way it sticks to your wet skin.

"Mm?" Joel doesn't know what you're referring to. He's never realized his pattern of clothing you. It was a simple act, but one you found endearing.

"Nothin'." You chirp, sliding on your shorts and boots.

Joel looks at you assessingly while buttoning his jeans back up, sucking in his stomach to zip them.

You're looking right back at him, admiring the way his wet hair looks, how the grays peak out in the most perfect way.

In a nervous manner, you shift on your feet, sliding your hands down into your jean pockets. "You sure you don't wanna...fool around?" You muse, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Joel smirks down at the ground as he continues to button up his shirt, shaking his head.

"You're too late kid, should've asked when we were naked." He's teasing, walking back over to the horse and gesturing for you to come.

You groan out, dragging your feet as you walk over to him and the horse. You were being dramatic, and Joel see's right through it.

"Quit whinin'. C'mon," He mutters, grabbing you by the hips to hoist you back onto the saddle.

"You're no fun, old man." You mumble, which freezes Joel in his tracks.

He doesn't know why, but that one off-handed comment ignites a blazing string of destructive thoughts.

As if he wasn't already insecure enough about being old and no fun.

His brain is jump-starting the self-depricating train of thought he had grown accustomed to, only this time, it had more fuel because you unknowingly confirmed it.

Of course, that isn't what you meant at all. It was just a teasing little comment, one you didn't think twice about. You weren't actually upset—at all.

Nevertheless, Joel's already in deep.

Slowly, he swings himself behind you onto the horse, grabbing the reins and starting forward.

You're quick to notice his demeanor, but choosing to keep your mouth shut.

The entire ride back is silent.

It was just like the ride there, only with a more suffocating air.

You have an inkling, but you have no idea the extent of his turmoil behind you.

Eventually, you two make it back to the stables. Joel helps you down from the horse, moving like a robot with no facial expression.

He's got that look in his eye that worries you. Every atom in your body wants to ask him what's wrong, but you also don't want to pry.

However, Joel would never open up to you unprompted. So, you at least try.

Your hand drifts upwards to his face, smoothing some of his hair down by his ear. "Is everything okay?" You finally ask, your voice purposefully soft and light so you don't startle him like he was some wild animal.

He inhales through his nose and clenches his jaw.

Oh.

Something was really wrong.

Your gaze goes from slightly weary to concerned in a flash, nervously biting down on your lower lip. "Is there anything I can do to help?" You ask, very evidently willing to do whatever he needed.

Joel had never been good with emotional timing. At the end of the day, he was still a man.

“We’ve gotta stop this.” He blurts.

You’re still for a moment, confused with his abrupt and vague words. You wait patiently for an elaboration.

Eventually, one comes, to Joel’s own dismay.

“We can’t see each other anymore—not like this.”

A beat passes.

Then another.

And then another.

You’re frozen with dread.

It’s like your body has forgotten all functions as you sit there and stare at him.

Surprisingly, the only thing you’re able to think of in this life changing moment, is the Christmas party at Maria and Tommy’s.

You’re thinking about how Joel fucked you in the guest bedroom, and how he said he didn’t want you having sex with anyone else.

You remember how happy you felt—like you two were exclusive or something.

How stupid were you?

With a quick intake of air, you swallow and look away.

“Did I do something wrong?” You croak, your voice akin to a wilting flower.

Joel is wracked with guilt the moment he hears you. But his mind is forcing him to do this.

“No—no. You haven’t done anythin’ wrong. This is all me, I fucked up and let this go on for too long.”

His answer provides no relief.

“But, I thought we—I thought you liked me?” You’re stumbling over your words because you’re so distraught, trying to blink away your persistent tears.

Shit.

Joel can hardly look at you. He would crumble and die if he did—the sadness in your expression is like several stabs to the gut.

Truth is, he did like you.

Thats why he wants to end things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he can manage, head hanging down to look at the dirt.

You’re not looking at him either, instead opting to blankly stare at one of the horses in the stable.

“So,” You start, your voice cracking because you’ve started crying at this point. “You don’t wanna hook up, does that mean we can still hang out?”

Joel takes a big deep breath before answering.

"It would be best if we didn't see each other at all." Finally, he makes eye contact with you, and immediately regrets it.

You look like you've just been shot, for christsake—might as well have.

It was like he just tore your heart out, threw it to the ground, curb-stomped it, and kicked it down a gutter.

"Okay," you murmur, nodding slowly, trying to seem some-what chill about things. Inside, however, it was like World War III. "Uhm, I'm just gonna go home." Your voice is a croak, and Joel watches with the utmost remorse as you walk away.

It feels like shock.

Was this a break up? Were you even together in the first place? Why didn't he want to see you at all? Questions, questions, and more questions rattle in your brain as you shuffle away, hands shaking and eyes pouring.

You look down at the ring Joel gifted you on your finger, debting whether you should take it off or not.

Joel feels awful.

And it's not like the awful he felt the very first time he regected you—this time it's far more painful. It's a deeper wound, an uglier, gross, puss-infested cut that keeps getting worse the farther you walk away.

He thought he'd feel some relief.

He thought that after ending things, he would be rid of that nagging voice in his head.

But no, it remained.

Only now, it barked thoughts of wrong-doing.

'Why would you do that? Things were going great, you've fucked everything. You just broke her heart—’ and it goes on and on and on.

For a moment, the panic he feels registers in his mind as a heart attack. Thats what it felt like, anyway.

He has to brace himself against one of the wood beams in the barn, aggressively rubbing his chest to try and get his heart rate normal. Joel loses his breath in the process, not realizing that he's having a panic attack.

Whatever happens next, you don't see.

You never looked back after you walked away. *** "I don't know why you're all caught up about this, Joel." Tommy admits, a disappointed expression on his face.

Joel glares at his younger brother from the bar top, clearly disgruntled by Tommy's inability to understand his side of the situation.

It had been exactly 17 hours since Joel cut things off with you. He'd been drinking for at least 10 of those hours.

Somewhat drunkenly, he had told Tommy a very short and curt version of what happened.

But he got the picture. Tommy sighs, hanging his head for a minute before bringing it back up to speak again. "All m'sayin' is, it's the end of the damn world, Joel. Her 'future' ain’t graunteed; she'll be lucky if she makes it past 30 with the way things are. She's been 'round long enough to know that herself, n'for some fuckin' reason, she wants you—"

"She don't know what the hell she wants."

"See—that's where you're wrong, Joel." Tommy slams the whiskey glass that he was cleaning down on the bar, fed up and frustrated. "I've known 'er longer than you. She's a smart girl n'you're sellin' her short. Wake the hell up." He bites out before walking away, clearly finished with the conversation.

He had been watching and listening to Joel mop and groan about it all day and night—he had enough.

Other than the anger from being talked to in that manner welling inside of Joel, there was also a moment of clarity.

As much as it killed him to admit, Tommy was right.

He was selling you short.

The world is too ugly and fucked up for him not to act like everyday might be his last. He would be stupid to not just settle down and be happy with you for however long he had left.

Shit.

All alone in Tipsy Bison, Joel was slowly beginning to realize how majorly he screwed up.

He ruined things because he was too damn scared.

He didn't think there was a worse feeling than this—dealing with this huge fucking mistkae.

He wasn't sure if he would be able to come back from how things ended.

That look that you had in your eyes...Fuck. Joel didn't think he even deserved a second chance.

But goddammit if he didn't try.

After throwing the rest of his whiskey back, Joel got up from the barstool and hurriedly walked out, slamming the doors behind him.

He marches all the way to your place, ignoring whoever tried to talk to him on the way.

He had to do this. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't.

Finally, he makes it to your quaint little home, haulting in front of it. There is some imaginary force stopping him, something pulling him back.

It's that nagging voice in his head again, the one that caused this whole mess in the first place.

But this time, he ignores it, and trudges up your porch steps.

Joel knocks rather forcefully, his jaw clenching when you don't answer within seconds.

He bangs on the door again with his fist, hard, his patience wearing dangerously thin.

When you still don't answer, he enters anyway with your spare key (he always kept it on him), calling out your name as soon as he steps inside.

You hear him from your bed upstairs, though you honestly think you're hallucinating. You've been crying for hours, the only sound in your ears were your sniffles and sobs.

His heavy footsteps seem to get louder and louder, and when he calls out your name outside you're door, that's when you realize you weren't hallucinating at all.

You sit up just as Joel opens your door, your eyes wide with shock and tears.

He takes a couple steps inside before he sees how utterly devastated you looked. The sight of you renders him immoveable.

He feels…like the biggest asshole-asshat-douchebag-fuckwad-dickhead thats ever walked the planet.

“Why…are you here?” Your broken voice asks, trying your best to hold back tears.

Even after all he did, you still spoke so softly, all your respect for him still there.

He had talked himself up the entire walk over, but all his words were dying on his tongue.

He was beginning to think that there was nothing he could say that would make what he did right.

“Babygirl I—”

He sees you psychically flinch at his voice, and it makes his heart break all over again.

His feet carry him to the edge of your bed, hands coming out to hold your face.

You’re not sure how to process his touch, not sure how to process any of what’s happening, but you’re trying your best.

“I was wrong,” his thumb is wiping off the tear stains on your cheeks, a forced gentleness to his touch. “So fuckin’ wrong, babygirl. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Upon hearing his words, you can’t stop the floodgate of your tears. You start bawling, your shoulders shaking with each sob.

“I was so scared.” You cry, bringing your hands up to latch onto him. You wanted to explain more, explain why you were scared—because having Joel and then suddenly not having him, was like ripping your heart out.

He can’t scoop you up in his arms fast enough.

He gets in the bed with you, lifting you onto his lap while he cradles your head to his chest, kissing the top of your scalp.

"M'not lettin' you go. I promise." He husks, his grip on you strong.

And Joel kept this promise.

He held you the entire night, ensuring that you were secure and warm.

In the morning, you immediately asked what changed his mind.

"I was frustrated." He starts, exhaustion etched into his face. "I couldn't understand why you wanted me. Felt I was keeping you from some great life—a young husband n' some white picket fence. But..life here is probably as good as it's gonna get. And this," He looks to the both of you, alluding to the relationship you shared. "Is really fuckin' good."

Your heart is crumbling at his confession.

Discovering that he spent so much time insecure about things, both infuriated and saddened you.

When you were about to respond and explain away his worries, he speaks again.

"M'not lettin' you go. What I did was a mistake. M'sorry."

You're crying again, sniffling softly against him.

"You should've just fuckin' talked to me," You whimper, burying your face into his neck. "I could've—”

"Ain't nothin' you could'a done. You never did anythin' wrong." Joel reassures, pulling you from his shoulder so he can look at your face. "You gon' forgive me?"

"Obviously," you mumble, looking at him with a fake frustrated expression. "I meant it when I said I've always been yours."

And just like that, things were resolved.

You brought your hand down to grip his flannel, sighing into his chest. Joel also sighed in relief, realizing that you weren't going anywhere.

To raise the spirits in the room, you crane your neck up to look up at him, a soft smile playing at your lips.

"M'still mad at you. How are you gonna make it up to me?" Initally, you weren't really insinuading anything sexual—you were thinking he could take you for dinner or ice cream or something.

But Joel has something different in mind.

He gently grabs your jaw, angling your face so he could kiss you how he wanted. His tongue is warm in your mouth, his mustache prickly against your face.

When he breaks away, you're out of breath, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"I got an idea." Joel mumbles, carressing your jawline with his thumb.

Slowly, he sits up only to position himself between your thighs. With his calloused hands, he slides his palm up the planes of your legs until he reaches your pants.

You shiver when he dips his fingers under your waist band, pulling them down agonizingly slowly.

"This okay?" He asks in a gentle tone, one that makes your stomach do flips.

"Yes," You say immediately and breathlessly. "Very okay."

The corners of his mouth turn up to resemble a smirk, before his gaze returns back to the area between your legs. He runs his fingers down your clothed slit, feeling the way your wetness coated the stringy fabric.

You let out a soft gasp, slightly bucking your hips, hungry for more of his touch.

He plays there for a while before finally taking your underwear off, setting it somewhere on the bed.

Joel inhales through his nose when he sees your glistening cunt, trying to not cum in his pants at just the sight. He doesn't stop his impulse to pull your folds apart, running his thumb along your lips.

He's being so slow and gentle—it’s making your heart rate each dangerous levels.

His thumb then ventures up to lovingly rub your clit, his eyes scanning your face to watching your reaction.

Your legs are shaking as you kept them apart for Joel, your hands fisting the sheets as you cope with the sensations he's allowing you.

Your chest is heaving up and down and your eyes are glazed over with a hazy fog—one that Joel loves to see.

Then, out of nowhere, Joel lowers his head and connects his lips to your clit.

The act makes you jolt, mostly because you weren't expecting it.

His tongue laps at you, slowly at first, but then something shifts in Joel.

It's like the hunger for your cunt overwhelms him, and his grip on your thighs tighten. Within seconds, he's devouring you like a man starved, licking long strips up your cunt before focusing on sucking your clit.

You can't stop the moans and mewls slipping past your lips, and you don't really want to. You want Joel to know how good he's making you feel.

"OhhhfuckJoel," You whine, shooting your hands down to grab his salt and pepper hair. He focuses solely on your bundle of nerves with his tongue, using his fingers to give your desperately empty hole some attention.

When he slides two fingers inside, you effectively fall apart.

Tear prick in the lining of your eyes, your thighs clamp around his head as you cry out his name.

The fact that he's never eaten you out before and he's been this good at it the entire time, felt criminal. You honestly might've been more offended that he waited so long to reveal this talent than when he tried to end things.

"Dontstopdontstopdontstop," You sob, feeling yourself reach that climax you craved.

You come with a loud moan, and Joel lets you ride it out on his tongue and fingers.

When your body goes limp, thats when Joel lets up. He brings his head out from your legs and slips his digits out of your spasming hole.

You mewl at the feeling, looking at him with teary eyes.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" You asks, voice quiet and cracked.

"M'fifty-six years old—been around the block, babygirl." He's face is glistening with your juices, and his mouth is wearing that lopsided smile of his. It makes you wanna smile back.

"...Damn. So I'm not the first, huh?" You huff, not upset in the slightest, just wanting to tease him a little.

He chuckles and unzips his pants, letting his cock slap against his stomach. "No sweetheart, you ain't the first." He rasps, effortlessly manhandling you to straddle his lap. "But you are gon be my last."

His hands caress the plush surface of your hips, kneading them like dough while his eyes scan your face.

You're blushing so hard, your face probably looks like a spanked ass.

He really did have a knack for leaving you breathless with those one-liners of his.

You steady yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders, looking back down into his big brown eyes. All you can do is stare, because your brain is too focused on how hard your heart is beating to come up with a response.

"What? Now you ain't got nothin' to say?" He husks, his massive palm venturing down to your grab and squeeze your ass. Your back straightens and your lips part like you want to say something—but you're not quite sure what. "C'mon, use those pretty lips."

An idea pops into your brain.

"I'd rather use these lips," You whisper close to his mouth as you raise your hips up to hover over his member, slowly dipping his tip inside your warm hole.

"Fuck," Joel grunts, exhaling through his nose.

You grin at his reaction, lowering yourself down further with bated breath. You watch as his head lolls back and his grip tightens on your waist.

"What? Now you have nothing to say?" You mock, even though you're equally as breathless as he is.

He flashes you a glare before sliding a hand up to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a searing kiss. His hand doesn't let you break away from his lips, and you don't plan to.

His tongue establishes dominance in your mouth, which you eagerly let happen. It's passionate, deep, bordering on punishing—sometime during, he manages to rip your top off, leaving you completely nude. But sooner or later, you both decide breathing might be a good idea.

You break away, chests heaving, mouths panting.

Eventually, you sink all the way down on him, giggling deliriously when you make eye contact again. You decide to forget your fake little fued, nuzzling your head into his neck.

"Have I ever told you how big your dick is?" You mewl, squirming your hips around a bit but not lifting them up and down. It has Joel reeling.

His hands are holding you so tight, you're sure that it'll leave a bruise. "No," Joel huffs out rather distractedly, his eyes laser-focused on the way your cunt is gushing all over his lap. But you swear you can see the faintest blush on his tan skin.

"Well—your dick is real big." You whisper nearly inaudibly, making Joel snap his gaze back to your face. A lazy smile curls at your lips before you begin dragging you tight cunt up and down on his violently erect cock.

Joel shakes his head in disbelief, as he often does, but is unable to answer becase the feeling of being inside you is rendering him speechless. His hand absent-mindedly dips down to rub your clit—the act has you doubling over onto his shoulder, starting to bounce on him like your life depended on it.

"OhJoel, Iloveitsomuch," You blabble into his ear, noticing how he had taken the reigns at this point. He was manually lifting your hips, bringing them down with intense vigor.

He was stretching you out so good and his tip was so fucking deep—you were having a hard time staying conscious and not going brain dead.

It appears Joel's in the same boat too. "Fuck—you're killin' me." He grunts, bucking his hips up to meet you.

You giggle airily before immediately getting your karma—his dick paired with the position and the way his face looked—your cunt clenches down on him and you cum hard.

Your body jolts as you grab onto him, not expecting him to keep fucking you. But his grip on your hips doesn't falter, and Joel continues to bounce you up and down.

The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt. Just letting him manhandle your body and do what he wanted was a surprising relief—even if you did just come.

You're reduced to whimpers and moans as you slump into his chest, letting him ground you and fuck your abused cunt.

Finally, slams you down one final time, unloading deep into your warmth. His groans sound like music to yours hears, especially because you know it's you that's making him feel so good.

He's panting in your ear, slowly starting to move his hands up to wrap around your torso.

He's hugging you before you can register it; his big arms securing you tightly to his chest while you both tried to catch your breaths.

Seconds pass...which turn into minutes, and you're wondering if Joel ever plans on letting you go.

He's made no efforts to remove his dick from inside you—it's soft now, but still buried deep nonetheless.

Your pussy will occasionally flutter around him, which'll earn a soft sigh from his lips.

You place a soft kiss on his temple before straightening your back to look at his face. "You tryin' to make sure your seed takes or something'?" You murmur, that teasing lilt in your voice that Joel is all too familiar with.

"Somethin' like that." He mutters into your chest, pulling you down with him to lay on the bed. "Want me to pull out?" He asks after a moment, scanning your face for any traces of displeasure.

You nestle into his chest, hooking your leg over his waist to lodge him deeper inside. "Never."

You and Joel fuck all day, all night and even into the morning. With, of course, breaks in between so Joel can recharge his stamina.

It happens multiple times in your bed, in the shower, on the couch, in the hallway, and even in the kitchen come morning.

Joel was making coffee while you were traipsing around with just his flannel on—humming along to some made-up song. It was like you two were an old married couple; him hovering over the moka pot and you scowering the fridge for some breakfast.

"Blueberry pancakes orrrr...." Joel watches as your head is stuck in the fridge, trying to find ingredients for meals. "Blueberry pancakes."

He snorts. "Surprise me." He huffs sarcastically, knowing he'd be eating a plate of blueberry pancakes.

You grinned and started making the batch, feeling Joel's eyes all over you because of the way his flannel was slipping off your shoulder because it was far too big on you.

His stare was turning you on—so you just bent yourself over the cool surface of the countertop and Joel did the rest.

Eventually, your safari of fun had to stop sometime during lunch. You both had succesfully cleaned yourselves and had started dressing for the day.

"I just told Maria I'd help set up." You murmur distractedly, tying your hair up in the bathroom mirror. Maria was holding a little town party in one of the recreational centers, and asked you, as well as some others to help her with the decorations.

There's a pause before Joel steps into the tiny bathroom, situating himself behind you and sliding his large hand over your stomach. He places a soft kiss to your head before dropping his hands to softly squeeze your hips.

"I'll walk you there."

A beat.

"You will?" He nods in confirmation, which has you turning around to look at him. You smile and tilt your head playfully. "You gonna walk me to first period too?"

Joel immediately rolls his eyes and scoffs, though you swear you can see him smirk.

"Smartass." He huffs out, grabbing your forearms to move you out of the way.

"Kidding." You chime, leaning on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. You weren't sure why you were so surprised by his offer, but you could tell it was a sign of something.

Maybe he wasn't stressed about people finding out about you two anymore. He never said that he was—but you could tell.

And it wasn't like he was embarrassed of you or anything—he's just always been a private person. It wasn't anyone's business who he was falling asleep next to every night.

But you—he'd be willing to change that for you.

When you both are ready, you exit your house, locking the door behind you. You look up to see your neighbor watching as you and Joel descend your porch steps.

You never liked her—gossipy woman who was always sticking her nose in places it didn't belong.

Quickly, your gaze snaps to his face, wanting to see if he was okay or anxious or whatever it may be.

But Joel's just looking right back down at you. "Lead the way, pretty lady." He murmurs lowly, his jaw clenched but his eyes soft.

You smile, and fall into step with him as you both walk down the sidewalk. The birds are chirping, the breeze feels amazing, and Joel is cracking smiles at your jokes.

Life felt good again.

Suddenly, Tommy appears out of nowhere, as he often does, blocking you and Joel's path.

You freeze, trying to keep a neutral face. You still weren't sure how to act around people with Joel, so you were just planning to play if off like you guys were just two buddies walking or whatever.

"Hey," Tommy greets, looking at you and then Joel, his eyebrows pinched together like he was confused at seeing the two of you in the same vicinity.

Oh. He probably knew what happened, or bits and pieces of it.

For some reason, you feel anxious that Joel might be feeling anxious, so you look down at your feet and nervously fidget with your hands.

"What're you two doin'?" Tommy asks, a detective look in his eyes as he shifted on his feet.

Joel clears his throat before looking down and grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers with his calloused grip. He can't help but glare at Tommy with a stern face, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

Your breath catches.

Tommy's eyes venture down to your joined hands, then you, then Joel.

After a beat, a sharp and knowing grin spreads across his face.

"Well I'll be damned." THE END.

[retroaria]

Michael Kaiser. That’s it. That’s the post.

i’m having kaiser thoughts. i’m pondering my orb, and all it’s showing me is michael kaiser. the evil voices in my head (my ask box) are taunting me (sending very nice requests) to sell my soul to michael kaiser (finally write something about him) and so here i am.

summary: random kaiser hc’s (lmk if you want more/nsfw ones)

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🪽 - aria

• thinking about how possessive he would be in a relationship. it isn’t overbearing, in the sense that he trusts you and lets you do you’re own thing. however, he’s a rather insecure man behind all that smug douchebaggery that he puts off and he has a hard time watching you interact with other men of his same stature. because truly, no matter how good he is to you, he isn’t the best person all around. there are guys out there that would be better for you and he can’t help be fear that you’ll be swept off your feet and taken from him.

• Kaiser is gentle with you. you actually turned him into a completely different person. It’s not that you’ve really changed him at his core, but you’ve opened him up to love he didn’t know before, and so he feels like he has nothing to be afraid of with you. he’s vulnerable and expressive and happy with you. he makes sure to provide that same experience for you in the relationship, making sure you always know you can go to him for anything and you don’t have to hide anything from him.

• In the beginning of the relationship, Kaiser is very protective of your privacy. He’s really afraid of the consequences that may come with the world knowing who you are and who you are to him. he’s not naive, he knows there’s bad people out there. not only that, but it’s no one else’s right to know you’re love for each other. i see him doing a soft launch and that’s it. after that he’ll post you on occasion and be a little less aggressive about hiding from paparazzi, but he still doesn’t want to share you. you’re his whole world, keyword HIS.

• kaiser LOVES intimacy. physical or emotional, he loves those sweet loving moments that come to fruition from the trust and bond the two of you have cultivated. he loves showering and taking baths with you, relishing in the gentle touches as the two of you clean each other up. they’re always filled with soft giggles and quick kisses, before drying each other off and snuggling up. he loves listening to you talk about your day, not sparing him from details you may have spared others from. telling him all the thoughts and actions you aren’t proud of, unafraid of being judged in his eyes. the vulnerability of it all makes his heart beat fast, but you’re both so trusting and in love that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

• this might be a hot take, but i feel like the concept of marriage would scare him a bit. it’s not that he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you, because he absolutely does and already plans on it. it’s just a level of commitment that he never thought anyone would dedicate to him. he doesn’t want you to end up regretting it in the future. he doesn’t shy away from conversation about it though, he actually wants you guys to talk about it and get a feel for where you both stand. when the time comes to take that next step, he’s as ready as ever. just make sure you don’t break his heart please (or i’ll find you bro.)

• dates with kaiser can either be extravagant and classy or they can be chill and sweet, he can do both. sometimes he wants to take you to the nicest restaurants he can fine, see you all dolled up looking absolutely stunning for him, and pamper you the entire night. other times he just wants the two of you to do something fun and spontaneous, would take you to a fair and win you all the stuffed animals you want, or would take you on a stroll around the city, letting you frolick through the shops while he holds all your bags for you. he’s such a gentleman either way.

• kaiser loves being domestic with you. doing the laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning the house, making dinner, he loves it. in those moments he finds himself wishing they would last forever, just the two of you existing in each others presence, he has nothing to worry about.

moon divider- @strangergraphics-archive

[loumandism]

todaaaaay i am pondering, as i frequently do, how daniel is very textually louis and armand’s child in a way similar to how claudia is louis and lestat’s child and how daniel’s making does not seem on armand’s part to be an attempt to distance himself from louis, but rather to enmesh them further even when louis is not physically near him. i am thinking of how louis holds a grudge against armand for not making madeleine and exploring a “proper” family dynamic with him even in dubai. it seems to me louis did always desire another child, but him and armand’s relationship was so beyond the point of broaching that topic once armand eliminated louis’ vampiric daughter and his daughter in a much more literal sense. that’s part of why daniel’s declaration that he can be claudia is so devastating, because louis knows he will never have access to that again, and that armand is resentful of it to the point of homicidality.

louis seems to view dual child rearing as something that is a declaration of trust, something that bonds two people together. when he begs lestat to make claudia he promises that her becoming of their blood is a guarantee of louis’ loyalty to him. i think in many ways he sees armand rejecting making madeleine as saying he does not trust him, and is not committed to truly “serving” louis. “maitre in the bedroom, maitre when it’s hot or convenient.” “that’s how i took it.”

this resentment is present throughout their entire companionship. that armand’s ideal world is one with just the two of them, and no expansion, is something that i think deeply bothers louis. louis’ desire to have anything beyond their codependent marriage deeply bothers armand. and yet, as the interview continues, louis expresses an explicit desire to make daniel—something armand is clearly put off by.

armand sees their relationship is developing and makes the conscious decision to insert himself into it. to insert himself into the interview. is that not the same thing he did when he bit into the exact mark louis left on daniel’s neck, violently taking co-ownership of something louis had built outside of him?

i truly believe armand made daniel for things completely intertwined with his relationship to louis. i think there’s spite to it, wanting to pull away from louis a fledgling he might have possibly wanted, and i think there’s a far-too-late *apology* in it. a desperate declaration, here, I will finally have a child for you, do you forgive me, here is our family. it’s a sort of gift, too. armand does not believe louis can live on his own. claudia was positioned as louis’ caretaker, and then armand (“how are you liking sleeping in my coffin?”). armand cannot stand the idea that louis would be on his own and hurt himself, and through daniel, he inserts himself and his blood and worry about him back into louis’ life.

what convinces me *the most* that daniel’s making is so much about louis is the parallel between 2x5 of louis asking armand to keep daniel alive, and 2x6 when louis asks armand to witness madeleine’s making (a very explicit request to act as a father with him).

louis is not asking anymore. he is not allowing for armand to trample on something else incredibly important to him. when armand first asked “are you asking or making me?” louis trusted his feelings enough to give him a choice. with daniel, he does not allow a choice to be made. daniel will live.

daniel was doomed to eternity the moment louis said this. daniel symbolizes the worst moment of their companionship, but also how they persevered. even when armand takes the memories, even when they hop from city to city, daniel lives. and when he returns in dubai, it becomes very clear that time is *up* on both their companionship and his life. extend one, extend the other. it’s really very violating to louis—this immortalization of a “testament to their companionship” that smells of armand and is also functionally his only friend. armand is not just letting louis go. he’s lashing out in a last ditch effort, a violation of one of his only principles, to connect himself to louis in any possible way.

it also gives louis a purpose. armand believes all fledglings will come to hate their makers, and abandons daniel, for louis to be forced to step up as his co-maker. this way louis can have a “fledgling” who will chuck his disdain towards armand, not louis, but louis can still have something to care for. “as long as you’re here, i will never taste the fire”. louis has declared “i’m companion enough for myself”—armand, in his characteristic paternalism, does not seem to agree.

remember it’s never loumandover. loumand’s CHILD is going to be interviewing lestat all next season.

[traumatrios]

friends, fwb!ART DONALDSON

josie’s notes! this is kind of a character study & lowkey bad but i got out of the theater 4 hours ago and have been obsessing. new era incoming!

ART DONALDSON was unable to keep his eyes off of you.

They are thirsty to drink in the way your body curves with ease in the bootcut jeans you wear out of Art’s bathroom. He lets his gaze swipe up and down your form, as you twist and turn in search of your straggling belongings. Most importantly, your phone.

“Mornin’,” Art chimed, admiring the curve of your chest in the sculpted tank you sported.

“Good morning,” you returned with an innocent smile, swinging the strap of your backpack on your shoulder. Your hands patted along the front, back and sides of your thighs, coming up empty handed.

Art’s eyes located your phone atop his dresser, spinning over in his desk chair to reach and retrieve it. Weight slid off of your shoulders in the form of a relieved sigh.

The corners of Art’s eyes crinkled in a friendly smile as he held it out for you to take. His arms– most notably his biceps –and the bruised marks that stretched across the skin. You could still see the fresh indents your newly manicured nails left earlier in the morning.

“Here, princess.”

There it was again. That Donaldson smile that has all the ladies swooning. You were a victim of the assault. It took every nerve in your body to speak with how your knees grew wobbly and your thighs began to grow sore.

“Thanks, friend,” you uttered, lifting your fingers to grab the phone. Art pulled his hand away from you, clicking his tongue.

“Ah-ah,” his smile turned into a smirk as he teased you. You were supposed to leave for class five minutes ago, but with his hand ‘accidentally’ prodding at your ass this morning and how he seems to be playing a game now, you began to ponder the possibility of never being able to leave. Your knee was already pressing next to his in his chair, any further and you weren’t ever getting up.

“C’mon, gotta leave,” you attempted to grab the phone again, only for him to pull it further away from you. The tips of your ears began to burn with your growing frustration.

Art raised his eyebrows in suggestion, and you knew exactly what it meant. Tilting your head at the gesture, he rebounded with a different motive.

“Kiss first?” he asked, an attempt at batting his eyelashes following. “Please?” he added.

You roll your eyes at him. You liked how playful he was, you did, but leaving his dorm the morning after another needy fuck was starting to get tiring. What was the next step?

This wasn’t the heavy subject you needed to focus on right now, instead you needed to start thinking about what you’d do if you failed this mornings’ calculus exam.

Before your feet could get moving, your lips were already obliging his request. Art’s hand cupped the back of your scalp to deepen what was meant to be a parting kiss, turning the soft peck into a loving kiss.

With the way his teeth didn’t try to clash with yours, you wondered if this was how he fed the fantasies in his head. It was obvious, Art wanted more than a fuck-buddy, but his passion was way ahead of his heart when it came to pretty girls like you. He always dove in head first, never thinking of the commitment— or lack thereof —when it came to this type of relationship.

You didn’t know what you wanted. It was hard to tell in college; you didn’t even fully know what you wanted to do with your life, how were you supposed to know anything else?

So you’d continue your late-night ventures to his dorm building and totally-not-lunch-dates whenever he had a gap in his weekend tennis schedule and you weren’t swamped with homework. You’d settle with quickies in closets and longing stares if it meant you had a warm body next to you that made you feel wanted.

After what felt like too long, you were the one to break the kiss. Art’s mouth was tinted with a frown to see you snatch your cell phone from his palm and begin to exit his dorm.

“Bye, friend!” You called.

“Bye, friend.”

divider by @benkeibear !

[keirareidss]

learning together - s.r

♡ summary: neither of you know what you're doing but you can learn together pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: pure innocent fluff nothing more nothing less :) wc: 1.7k request here

You never thought you'd get this far. Being in a relationship with Spencer was like nothing you'd ever experienced (because you hadn't) and you were surprised you made it this long. It was his first relationship as well and sure, you'd both kissed other people before but being committed to another person is a whole new level.

You'd asked him out, approaching him on his way out from work and asking him to dinner. He said yes and, though your first few dates had been cancelled by the inevitable case coming in, you official first date was perfect. Perfect in the sense that you both had an amazing time.

In reality, a lot had gone wrong on the date. You went to dinner and spilled spaghetti sauce on your nice blouse, then, with Spencer's jacket on, you took a nice walk in the park where Spencer fell in the fountain.

Soaking wet and stained red, the two of you went back to your apartment. You let him in, offering him the shower and throwing his clothes in the dryer. Neither of you stopped to question whether it was normal or not for him to be in your apartment or using your shower on a first date.

You were doing what you wanted because you liked each other and you were choosing to live in the moment. Cheesy, right?

-

"Do you think this is weird?"

"Do I think what's weird?" You asked, your fingers trailing down his nose. You were both on your couch, you slouched against the armrest, Spencer laying fully on his back, his head in your lap. You were absentmindedly touching him, hands in his hair, fingertips tracing every inch of his face, jaw, collarbones.

"Us. What we're doing, you know, like... how close we are for how long we've been together." Of course he was worried about that. Spencer was the type to want to make sure everything he did was the correct way to do that thing. He wanted to do friendships 'right', not talk about all his weird interests so much, get them the right gift on their birthday, that kind of thing. Of course he wanted to make sure he was doing it right with you.

"I don't know, Spence. I don't think there's a set rule of how long we have to be together before we can do things like this. I know you aren't normally touchy with everyone but doesn't the fact that you're comfortable right now, like this, say something?"

He pondered the thought. You were right, technically, he was comfortable with your touch. He didn't mind the feel of your hands on him.

"I guess so."

"If you want to slow down-"

"No!" He cleared his throat, a blush spreading up his neck to his cheeks. "No, no, I don't want to slow down. I like you." He tilted his head back so he was looking at you upside down. He gave you a small, goofy grin.

"Yeah?" He nodded, his smile growing. "I like you too."

Your first kiss was messy and clumsy and perfect. It was your third date and Spencer, ever the gentleman, walked you back to your apartment. You wanted to invite him upstairs but his unease about the pace of your relationship made you worried. You were afraid to scare him away.

"This is me." You said awkwardly, brushing your hair behind your ear.

"Tonight was fun."

"Yeah." You agreed and you both stood in a cumbersome silence. Neither of you wanted to leave yet. You glanced at Spencer and caught him staring at your lips. Angling your body more towards him, you stepped closer.

"Can I... May I kiss you?" Spencer asked nervously.

"Please." He leant down, his head tilting slightly. Slightly chapped lips met yours, moving softly. His hands awkwardly came up to cup your jaw, the kiss clumsy but passionate. Teeth and tongue clashing, heavy breaths filling the barest space between you.

Your back met the brick wall of your apartment building. Surely first kisses weren't meant to be this heavy right? You were supposed to start with little pecks and gradually move to biting lips and slipping tongue. But the way Spencer moaned softly into your mouth made you forget all about the way things were 'supposed to go'.

He pulled away when he realized how far it had gone, looking down at you. You pressed against the wall, chest heaving. You with your lip gloss smudged and your hair tousled. You. You.

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" You cut him off, pulling him down by his purple tie and crashing your lips against his once again.

"Don't apologize." You murmured against him, your arms winding around his neck. "You're perfect."

Maybe it didn't matter that it should have been too soon for the two of you to be doing this and maybe it didn't matter that you wanted more, so much more from him. Because this was your relationship. You never thought you'd get this far with him but then again, you never thought that he'd be this good of a kisser.

It was stupid. The whole thing was stupid. Your first fight as a couple was what you'd expect. You fought over a stupid subject, not even anything memorable. Halfway through the argument you'd both forgotten what you were yelling about (not literally, spencer knew what you were arguing about but you were so far into it that he didn't care anymore).

The fight lasted maybe 5 minutes but it felt like an hour. You both said mean things, you both raised your voice, and in the end, you stormed off, leaving Spencer in his living room as the front door to his apartment slammed behind you.

He realized almost immediately that it was pouring rain outside and you were out there with no umbrella, no jacket, nothing. He sprung off the couch, racing after you, snagging his umbrella by the door before he left.

He shouted your name, running onto the sidewalk. You weren't ten feet away from the apartment but he rushed to you, struggling to open the umbrella before holding it above your head. You shuffled closer to him so he could huddle under it as well.

"I'm sorry." He said, raising his voice to be heard over the storm.

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have yelled at you, it was so stupid." You called back.

"No, it's my fault. I was the one who started it." You went back and forth, trying to take the blame before he finally surged forward, kissing you. You stopped mid sentence, tilting your head back to make it easier on his neck. Like something out of a movie, the umbrella fell from his hand, the rain pouring down over the two of you as his grabbed your face.

He kissed you passionately for no more than 10 seconds before pulling away, remembering himself.

"We should go inside, we're going to get hypothermia." He said, bending to pick up his umbrella. You giggled, nodding and following him inside, keeping tucked to his side to stay under the umbrella.

For your first anniversary, one full month of being together, Spencer went all out. He wanted it to be special but, in all seriousness, he had no clue what he was doing. How big were you supposed to go for a one month anniversary? Did normal couples even celebrate that kind of thing or was it too insignificant to even bother giving a second thought?

Spencer didn't know. All he knew was that he gave it more than a second thought. He gave this event a third, fourth, a fifth thought. Frankly, it was all he could think about the week before.

With some planning, he made it really special. He learned how to cook your favorite meal, the one your mom always made you when you were a kid, he bought your favorite wine, lit some vanilla candles (ones that he had spent nearly an hour in the store for, probably looking like a maniac smelling all the candles to find the one that smelled most like your perfume).

He set it all up, finishing around ten minutes before you were supposed to come over. When he answered the door, you found him slightly disheveled, an adorable apron hanging from his neck and tied around his waist, his hair tousled from running his hands through it nervously.

"Hi!" He gave you a big grin. "You look really pretty. I like what you did with your hair."

"Thank you. Can I come in?" You grinned at his giddiness.

"Oh- yeah. Yes, come in." He stepped aside, ushering you in. He gently pulled your coat off for you, hanging it up.

"It smells good in here."

"Thanks, I- uh, I learned how to make that meal you like. I didn't burn anything this time." He led you to the dining room table, pulling out a chair for you.

"Look at you, mister romantic. I'm proud of you." You sat down in the chair, smiling up at him as he pushed you closer to the table. He took the apron off, tossing it on the counter before he sat across from you.

"It's not too much?"

"No, it's perfect."

"Really? I wasn't sure because I didn't know if we were supposed to celebrate this."

"Baby, I don't think there's anything we're supposed to or not supposed to do. We can literally do whatever we want."

"Yeah, you're right." He agreed, serving himself some of the delicious looking food he cooked for you. Turns out, his meal tasted just as good as it looked and when you finished, you helped him clean up, you washing dishes, him drying.

As you splashed water at him, giggling, he realized something. He was actually alright with not knowing what you were doing. He just wanted this. Whatever this was. Just you, and him, doing what you wanted because you were with each other. That's all he ever wanted.

Taglist: @superbeaglewitch, @perfectgoopfishuniversity-blog, totallynotabuckybarnessimp, @dramioneforevertilltheend. @cynbx, @diminombre

[gingerteawrites]

HEADCANONS: JJK MEN WITH A SUPER SMART PARTNER

A/N: Had this thought while watching a random Youtube video so let's all dive down my silly little thoughts. I don't write in this kind of format often, so do let me know if you like it.

Content: Nanami x reader, Gojo x reader, Geto x reader, headcannons, gender neutral.

NANAMI KENTO

I know there's a lot of Nanami x bimbo-ish reader content out there. And while it definitely makes for some delicious delulu fuel, I am so convinced that Kento would prefer to be with someone who at least somewhat challenges him intellectually.

I can just picture it: The first time he heard you passionately go on about a deeply philosophical concept, or that one time you broke down a really hard topic you're super knowledgeable about, he felt his heart skip a beat.

If your area of expertise is not something he's familiar with, he'll find himself researching bits and pieces during his work breaks and then bring them up to you in conversation.

Of course, this absolutely delights you, and he can't decide if he prefers the twinkle in your eyes when you get lost in conversation, or the curve of your lips when they're pulled into a serious frown while you ponder his words.

Nanami, in my opinion, is also a huge "my partner" kind of guy, but in an amazing way. All of his co-workers that know him a bit know two things.

One, he's in a committed relationship. And two, his partner is super smart.

He doesn't even try to bring you up to people, the words just slip out and he finds himself making a comment along the lines of:

"My partner studied this in university, they're so knowledgeable about the field." or "I do not understand much of the topic, but I can ask my partner and get back to you later."

He cherishes your intelligence as in integral part of who you are, and is always rooting for you throughout all of your intellectual endeavors.

GOJO SATORU

Nothing anyone tells me will change my mind. At his core, Satoru is just a happy idiot that's kind of surprised he managed to bag you.

I know it might seem suprising, given that he practically has the confidence of a bigoted white man who thinks he's smart because he makes controversial political opinions (even though we all know our blue-eyed king would never be a bigot).

But trust me, sometimes he sees you locked in your own little world, musing on about some profound topics and he wonders how you even found him interesting at all.

All that to say he thinks you being smart is the best thing ever, and has 100% made comments about your sexy brain before.

As a natural consequence of this, Gojo uses you as his living encyclopedia, even if the questions he has are wildly out of your domain of expertise.

"Say, ____, exactly how much straw would it take to break a camel's back?"

"How much sugar can I eat before risking going into a coma?"

You might think that he's really just trying to mess with you, but no. Satoru genuinely thinks you're the smartest cookie on the planet and you know the answer to everything.

"I mean, shouldn't you be happy I'm asking you instead of that AI bullshit?" he says once, his head buried in your lap while you were reading a book. And you kind of have to concede. Maybe he was right.

I guess you just have to become the world's top expert in every field possible to become your boyfriend's very own AI assistant.

GETO SUGURU

In my opinion, Suguru is one of the smartest characters in the JJK verse. He's an expert in manipulation and has spent a lot of time diving into different philosophical thoughts and things like anthropology and sociology.

So of course, he would be delighted to have a partner who has a high intellect and with whom he can have deep conversations and theorize about life. He's probably huge on Eastern philosophy so after the first conversation you guys have about Buddhism and Shintoism, he's almost ready to go down on one knee.

On the other hand, I feel like if he had a partner who excelled in a more STEM aspect of things, he would be so very eager to listen to you and learn about your interests.

Whether it's sitting down and acting as an audience for when you practice presentations (and actually asking pretty thought-provoking questions), or inquiring about a concept that he knows you understand very well. Suguru will always try to match your energy with the things that you like.

I also feel like he'd be so into study dates, and generally be an amazing study buddy. The kind that brings all the good snacks to the session and keeps side conversations to only when both of your brains are starting to need a break. He would be the type of person you could sit in silence with for hours and both do your own thing, and then go get chocolate treats later because you read somewhere that it improves memory.

All to say he's completely enamored with you and you'd make one killer of an academic duo.

And that's all I have for you today, folks

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated (❁´◡`❁)

[gracieheartspedro]

More Than Friends

how to help the Palestinian people

pairing: best friend!ellie williams x fem!reader (set in the jackson era)

description: you and ellie have been friends for awhile. while at a party for tommy’s birthday, you try to catch the attention of your crushes. sadly, they are all over each other. in a childish effort to get them to pay attention, you two try to make them jealous. 'cause that always ends the way you think, right?

word count: 3.3k words

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, smut, wlw, f!receiving oral (reader), fingering, jealousy, semi-public sex, dirty talk, tons of nicknames, no mentions of reader's appearance. talks of sexuality, but it's vague. reader wants to fuck whoever, it doesn't matter lol. let me know if I missed anything!

author's note: I wrote this after watching one too many ellie edits on tik tok. it was written in two hours, so it's not my finest work but it scratched my little ellie itch. okay, much love xoxoxoxxo

“So… you really like Dina, huh?”

Her face twists immediately at the question. She throws herself back in the wooden chair, cursing under her breath. Her arms cross over her chest, her t-shirt riding up a bit above her jeans. 

You saw the way Ellie looked at Dina. She looks at her like she hung the moon. She was always fumbling over her words around her, nervous to say the wrong thing. When she did try to flirt, it came up awkward and strained. And you understood her predicament because you were the same way about Jesse. 

You both were pining after two people in a committed relationship.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” She mumbles, gesturing towards the center of the room where Dina and Jesse slow danced. He was leaning down to whisper something in her ear and it made your stomach flip. “She would never go for me.”

You felt bad for Ellie. She was everything you wished you were yourself; beautiful and funny. You felt like you were the only one, besides the Millers, who got her dry humor. You two had met in class about two years ago, now. You were a newcomer to Jackson, arriving about two months prior with your mom. When you got seated next to Ellie, you could tell her give-no-fucks attitude would mesh well with your give-too-many-fucks attitude. Over the years, you two had really rubbed off one another. You two were inseparable. 

“You’re the whole package, Els,” You say before nudging her shoulder with your elbow. You two are moping at a table near the exit of the food hall. It was Tommy’s birthday celebration, so everyone in Jackson got together to plan a big bash for him. Ellie felt obligated to come and your mom was pretty close to Maria. More time spent with your best friend wasn’t time wasted, so here you are. 

“At least she shows you the time of day,” You say under your breath. 

Jesse had been pretty flippant with you. He could never remember your name, let alone that you two shared the same street in Jackson. You also once shared a table at the mess hall. He was so tall and strong. Your crush on him was more physical than it was emotional. He was funny, sure, but you mainly just wanted to get him alone. 

“Why are we doing this to ourselves?” She ponders, finally looking away from the canoodling couple across the room, “We could do so much better!”

You know she’s just trying to convince herself of something she doesn’t really believe. The tone of her voice changes when she’s lying. 

“Like who? Slim pickin’s out here, Ellie. We have them and maybe 4 other undesirable people. There’s always the butcher’s son, he always had eyes for you.”

She grabs her cup from the table in front of you, “Yeah, men are… not my type.”

You turn your body so your legs are nudging her thighs, “Then, you really don’t have any choices.”

She nods her lips in a thin line. “I wish I could just.. Just go up there and talk to her. Ya know?”

“Why can’t you?”

“The same reason you can’t just go up and talk to Jesse.”

You roll your eyes, leaning forward on your knees. Your body is practically in her bubble, but she just sits back with her arm over the back of your chair.

You and Ellie had no real boundaries. You had no qualms about physical touch and Ellie never said anything or seemed to mind. You two have shared a horse countless times and even a bed. She never steered away from you.

“Well, Dina will talk to you if she sees other girls talking to you,” you state, reflecting on the last time everyone in Jackson got together. Some random girl came up to you two and as soon as Dina saw Ellie laughing with the other girl, she scrambled across the room to see what the fuss was about. You saw the same glint in her eyes that Ellie had. 

For some reason, it made you kind of jealous. 

You never tried to explore those knee-jerk emotions you had for Ellie. She was your best friend and you were positive she never felt romantic feelings towards you. Plus, you weren’t sure of your feelings about your sexuality. You always told Ellie you just liked who you liked, not really putting any importance on what was between their legs. You weren’t very experienced, but you had hooked up with both genders and liked it all equally.

“That was a coincidence, bug.”

That stupid nickname that she called you. Born from the one time you practically attracted every infected in the area with your scream over a huge beetle. She could not let it go and ended up calling you bug, just to annoy you. 

You finally look up at her freckled face, waiting for her to crack a smile. When you squint at her with contempt, she smirks. 

“Why don’t we find another girl and test the theory?”

She glances around the populated party, “Everyone here is over the age of 40.”

You turn back to the crowd of people around you and see that she’s right. 

You mull it over, your brain working to find a way that you both could get their attention. You two could simply say fuck it and go watch a movie and forget this stupid encounter happened. Joel would probably chew Ellie out, but when doesn’t he do that? 

Your next idea is something dangerous but something you had thought about before. You had never brought up the idea to Ellie because you were afraid of her reaction. 

“What’s your idea?”

She could read you like a book. You pursed your lips, wondering if you should even propose the idea to her. 

“How desperate are you?”

She laughs out loud, completely taken aback by the query. “Jesus, what are you thinkin’?”

You lick your lips, trying to make sure the idea comes out as a whisper.

“Why don’t we make them jealous? Just you and me?”

“How though?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Well, I’m a girl.”

You glance back at where Dina and Jesse were just dancing. They are both now facing you two’s direction, Jesse engrossed in a conversation with Tommy. Dina is just sipping from her glass, not really staring anywhere specific. 

You look back at Ellie who’s also looking at her, but meets your eyes when your face gets closer to hers. 

You would tell her how beautiful she was all the time and she just would roll her eyes and change the subject. You were physically attracted to her and there had been a couple of times you had thought about kissing her and wondered what her lips would feel like against yours. 

But she was your best friend. 

“Wrap your arm over my back,” You are still positioned, your elbows on your knees, your knees facing her thighs, “And rub it.”

She furrows her eyebrows, but she submits and brings the arm that is slouched over the chair to your lower back. You nod, watching as her lids lower. Her hand creeps up and down your side, her fingers grazing your ribs, up to your side boob. “Now what, bug?”

“Now, slowly move your hand up my back,” She does it as you’re speaking and the movement makes the hairs on your arms stand up, “Grab the nape of my neck.”

“Why are you making me do this?”

You lift up off your hands, bringing your face closer to hers. She doesn’t budge, sitting still and only focused on you and your words. 

“Because,” Her hand grabs the back of your neck, before slowly bringing it forward to collar bone. The gentleness of her touch and the fact that it’s your Ellie, makes every sense heightened. You don’t even realize how her touch is making you feel until you see her crack a smile. 

“Because why?” She whispers, her voice teasing. 

“Cause I want them to see you touch me.”

It comes out needy and desperate. Her eyes change when it slips from your lips, instead of being playful, she’s looking at you like you’re her next meal. She leans forward, her face millimeters from yours. 

You had never talked to Ellie like this but at this moment, you were completely transfixed on her. She was wearing a flannel over her shoulders covering her usual gray t-shirt. The sleeves were rolled up exposing the tattoo Cat did on her a year ago. 

You always thought it was hot, the way it trailed up her arm from her delicate wrist.

Her jeans are ripped and her legs and man-spreaded like she was carrying something in her jeans. 

And she smelled like pine. You loved it when you got the privilege to sleep next to her because her linens always smelled like her. You would love the idea of getting into bed with her right now.

“How do you want me to touch you?”

You chew the inside of your lip, “Any way you want to.”

She chuckles before brushing her hand down your exposed arm, “Is this for the bit or do you want me to genuinely touch you?”

You notice her being sincere. You think back to all the times you joked about sleeping with Ellie, and while at the time you chalked them up to being jokes, deep down, maybe it’s actually what you wanted. 

With the way she’s looking at you now, you prayed on every star that she would continue pushing your buttons. That somehow she would forget Dina even exists and realize it was you all along.

“Hey guys,” Her voice brings you out of your horny daze. It was the last voice you were expecting, and you can tell by the look on Ellie’s face, she is thinking the same thing. 

“Oh, hey Dina!” You quip up, not moving all the much to ensure she sees Ellie’s hand on your bicep. 

“You two busy?” The way she asks is almost too demanding. You glance back over at Ellie whose color is draining from her face. 

You shake your head, finally sitting up. Ellie’s hand doesn’t leave you though, instead, it just drops to your thigh. You try not to acknowledge it, as you notice Jesse coming up behind Dina. But now it feels so heavy against your legs, the weight of the situation finally hitting you. 

It worked. 

“We are just talking,” Ellie manages, her voice cracking. 

Jesse comes up behind Dina, wrapping his arms around her. You’re suddenly grateful that Ellie’s hand is still on you, the jitters hitting your system subsiding by the physical feeling of her being so near. 

“Looked like more than that,” Jesse jokes, his smile taking up a lot of his face, “You good Ellie?”

“Ellie was just telling me about the patrol she just went on with Jesse,” You explain quickly, making sure to look at Dina and not Jesse. “She told me about the infected y’all ran into!”

“Oh yeah, shit was crazy,” Jesse squeezes Dina tighter, “We gotta get back out there again, Ellie. You were a beast at taking those suckers down.”

“U-uh yeah, absolutely.”

You grab her hand as a reassurance. The exchange gets awkward quickly, none of you knowing what else to say. 

“Well, we should get goin’,” Dina says tapping Jesse’s arms, “See you two around?”

You two just nod. They walk away, not saying much of anything else. You stare at the wall, humiliated by the last 10 minutes of your life. You were unsure if you could even look Ellie in the eyes again. 

Ellie huffs loudly, sitting further back in her chair. “Well, that failed.”

You start to agree until that little bit of Ellie that’s rubbed off on you starts to come up your throat. The not-giving-much-of-a-fuck is creeping up on you. 

“Did it? Because I think it went exactly how I wanted it to.”

You finally return your eyes to her bewildered expression. You pull her hand off your lap as you stand up, yanking her up after you. 

“You wanted it to go like that? What was the point?”

You pull her closer to you before raising your lips up to her ear. Her hair is tucked behind the crest of her ear, so it tickles your nose a bit before you speak. 

She turned you on, so now you needed her to do something about it. Here’s to not giving a fuck. 

“The point was to get you to finally touch me.”

The temperature in the room rises a million degrees. Ellie’s eyes light up at the statement and you know that was exactly what she wanted to hear before Dina came up to you. 

You start to pull her towards the kitchen door, right near your table. You remember finding a hidden supply closet back there last Christmas party. Your skin was on fire as you dragged her through the appliances to the somewhat large closet. It was practically empty, void of anything anyone at the party may need, so it was safe. Plus it had a lock. 

As soon as the door shuts behind her, Ellie’s on you. Her lips hit yours and it was exactly how you imagined it. She was quick and eager with her kisses, her tongue plunging into your mouth immediately. She was grabbing your hips, pushing you towards the wall where all the brooms and mops were. You try not to trip, giggling as you pull her face closer to you. 

“So this is what you wanted?” She pulls away from you for a breath, “Using making Dina jealous as a ploy to get to finally kiss you?”

Your hands find the spot above the hem of her jeans, right under her t-shirt. Out of instinct, you start to unbutton her pants. 

“Actually, that wasn’t the plan.”

Her eyes are trained on your lips, “Is that so?”

“No, but you were playing the part way too well and I realized something.”

“What did you realize?”

The overhead light was so dim but you could still somehow see her cute freckles. 

“That I want you more than I want anyone else. I need you to touch me more often.”

She chuckles, her fingers still pressed into your hips, “Well, bug, I’m touching you just like you asked.”

She drags kisses up your jaw and neck. You try not to fall apart over that alone. Ellie always talked about how inexperienced she was, but she’s probably the most tentative kisser you have ever encountered. 

“Can you touch me here?”

You press your hands to the zip of your jeans. She looks down at your body to where you’re touching and she clicks her tongue. 

“Ask politely, baby, and I’ll do anything you want.”

The nickname change makes your heart stop. 

“Can you, my sweet best friend, touch me and get me off? Please?”

She groans at the question, a sound you never thought she’d make for you. 

“Of course,” She grabs the belt loops of your pants before yanking them down your legs without resistance, “What are friends for?”

You know you’re soaked by the way she smiles up at you. She gets down on her knees, looking up at you, as her hands slowly start to spread your legs. You are standing against a wall, watching your best friend’s face creep close to your center. 

It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. She pulls at your panties, toying with the fabric before you take matters into your own hands and pull them down your legs. 

She brings her lower lip between her teeth, “This wet for me?”

You could slap the stupid smirk off her face, but before you can even say something snarky back, she slips her digits between your glistening slit. Your body practically buckles at the prodding, so you brace yourself against the shelf next to you.

Your normal reaction to feeling good is to close your legs together tightly, but Ellie has her left hand mounted to your inner thigh, keeping you open for her, while the other one is slowly creeping up to your weeping hole. She’s gentle when she puts one finger inside you.

Once your body reacts around her, she pulls her finger out to inspect how wet you are. After she’s satisfied with her findings, she adds another which causes you to mewl at the sensation. 

“Ellie, please,” You beg, trying to get more friction. She’s not letting you do anything but watch. 

“Mmm,” She hums before moving her face closer to you, “Love to hear you moan my name, bug. You wanna be a good girl? Keep begging.”

You never took Ellie as someone who loves to hear her sexual partner beg, but it turns you on even more. 

You watch her close in on your clit, her tongue finding the bud and flicking it a couple of times. The moans that come out of your mouth are so deprived. Her fingers slip so seamlessly in and out of you, that you try to remember a time you were so wet. Nothing comes to mind because all your brain is thinking is Ellie, Ellie, Ellie. 

“Please, please,” you plead, trying your best to egg her on so she goes faster. It works because she picks up the pace fucking you. Her mouth suddenly closes around your clit, and she sucks. 

Your one hand is still gripping onto whatever is next to you, but your other hand has to rest somewhere. Her short brown locks are right there, so you grab on. 

Her mouth leaves your clit, and instead, her tongue licks up and down your weeping hole. When you bring her closer in, her nose starts to stimulate your sensitive bud. 

The sounds are so wet and depraved, you’re sure the bubbling in your stomach is about to come to a tipping point. You find yourself grinding forward, trying to get friction on your clit again. Her nose prods the spot over and over again as you grind down onto her face. 

Ellie hums as she fucks you, trying her best to push your limit. You know you’re close and you are sure she can feel how tight your pussy is gripping onto her fingers. She knows you’re close so she kicks it up a notch and shakes her head between your folds. That motion alone sends a tidal wave within you crashing to the shore. You pull her hair so hard, you know it probably hurts but fuck, you needed her to feel how good she was making you feel. 

The white-hot feeling starts to subside and you are panting like you just ran a mile. You finally release Ellie’s head, letting her come up for air. Her lips are saturated with your slick and it looks like she’s drunk on you by the way her eyes are half shut. She pulls her two fingers out of your tight hole, making you whine at the emptiness. 

She stands up, bringing her two fingers up to your lips. 

“Wanna see how good you taste?”

She’s so fucking dirty. It gets you so riled up. 

You grab onto her wrist and bring the fingers up to your mouth. You suck them dry, giving into how absurd this is. 

“You’re a freak, too,” She beams at you, before bringing you into another feverish kiss. You were so mesmerized by her. She grabs onto your hips, pulling your naked bottom half to her still-clothed legs. 

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” You grumble, still recovering from the drilling you just had. Her hands travel up your sides, under your t-shirt. She is holding onto your ribcage, looking at your exposed tummy as the shirt rides up. 

“I didn’t think you’d go for me, especially when guys like Jesse are your type,” She explains, so enthralled by the way your body looks to her, “I don’t know if I can let him have you, now.”

You smirk, your hands twisting around her shoulders, “Oh, I see. Well, if he can’t have me, then Dina can’t have you.”

“Well, thank God they have each other, then.”

[tsukimefuku]

CHAPTER THREE PT. II: DIMINISHED CAPACITY ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES

masterlist link | mdni! | oopsie, is that... a special banner? gee I wonder if there's something to see at the end of this chapter, huh?

❀ diminished capacity.

Diminished capacity refers to an individual’s impossibility to form the intent necessary for committing any criminal act, because their capacity to fully comprehend the nature of their actions is impaired. It doesn’t, however, completely exclude their responsibility, and they may be held accountable to a lesser offense.

wc: 5.5K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader

❀ tags and c/w.

non-curse au. college au. slow-burn romcom. professor and college student pre-relationship. internship interviews suck. nobara likes to steal food from people. mentions of hypothetical violent crime. nanami gets pestered by gojo even here. higuruma likes sunflowers. nanami has a sixth sense.

❀ notes etc.

Apologies to any colleagues reading the word “evidence” in place of “proof” and feeling like tackling me with a broom, lol. Also, a huge thanks to everyone who came around for part one, I hope you guys get to enjoy reading this just as much I enjoyed writing it.

Argh… Monday.

Internship hunt was hell. There was no other way to spin that wheel. You knew it’d be incredibly hard, but not this hard.

Mondays were cursed days, but to know that not only cursed, they’d also start with terrible interviews — plural — was not in your bingo card for this week. Between  oh, you just started criminal law I this semester? and we will let you know laid the crumbling sounds of your utmost despair of knowing full well you were in for a ride for those next few days.

Well, if only daydreaming about him could save you.

It didn’t, though.

Unfortunately.

You arrived at the campus cafeteria where you were supposed to meet Nobara. Even on a fairly uncomfortable chair, she slouched nearly enough to slide down onto the ground like a rag doll, and it didn’t take you much to realize these past few days were throwing her through the wringer too.

“You look like death,” you joked as you pulled your chair to sit with her, putting your tuna sandwich and can of soda over the table.

“And you look like… like… hmph,” she scoffed while rolling her eyes and propping herself back up again.

“No snarky comeback? Are you that tired?” 

“Leave me alone,” she replied, and apparently, she really wasn’t in the mood for playful banter. You took a bite out of your sandwich, pondering if you should ask her about it, but she beat you to it. “Why is getting internships this early in college is so damn hard?”

“Apparently, places don’t trust complete newbies or youngsters,” you noted, “and they want someone who has already studied all the necessary subjects prior to hiring. Also, people with prior experience are preferred.” 

“Yet these are internship opportunities! Aren’t interns supposed to be newbies who are going to learn from the experience they’ll get through the internship?” Nobara irritatedly inquired, her implied commentary more a complaint than a question. You nodded.

“Absolutely. It makes no sense, it’s like they’re just trying to hire a junior lawyer with less rights and a lower pay rate,” you churned out through your mouthful of tuna and mayonnaise, “now that I think about it, it’s probably that, actually.” 

“I can’t go back home! I mean, I made it all the way here. If I had to go back I would never get over this. I need some money, and I need some money soon, otherwise this will all just have been a waste of my time. I should just get a part time job already instead of insisting in starting my internship as fast as possible.” 

Nobara covered her face, and she sounded genuinely upset. You paused your munching for a bit, and after washing it all down with a few gulps of soda, you leaned towards her, pulling her hands from her face.

“Hey, Nobara, we’re not letting that happen, okay? Neither me, Maki, Yuuji or Megumi.” you offered in an attempt to comfort her. She let you peel her palms away, and gazed at you in a mixture of frustration and anger, which softly subsided after your comment. You decided to push your luck, just a bit. “We can refugee you in Megumi’s car. We’ll get you a hammer so you can hit passerbies for shits and giggles to let some collegiate steam out.” 

Consternated, she shook your hands off of her while you chuckled. She made her best effort to still look pissed, but you noticed a tiny smile forming on the edges of her mouth.

“That’s a shit plan, but I’ll take you up on that hammer offer,” she said, and you smiled at her, a gesture she finally reciprocated.

“I’d expect no less from you. So, tell me, in which area are you looking for internships? Fashion law?” 

“Nope, entertainment.” Nobara picked your half eaten sandwich in her hands and took a bite before you could protest. “Maki had told me it was easier to get internships in entertainment law to garner some experience for a future in fashion law, but honestly? I’m skeptical now.” 

“There might be some openings soon. Have you tried Professor Gojo’s firm? It’s the same as Professor Nanami’s, isn’t it? I mean, that giant firm with dozens of departments and that nearly every teacher at our college seems to work for.” You stretched your hand to get your sandwich back, but she slapped you away. “Hey!” 

“I need it more than you, I’m sad!” 

“I’m sad too! I had four terrible internship interviews today, give it back!” 

You both entered a silly slapping match, and the few people walking past the table would look away nervously in fear of getting dragged into the middle of whatever war was going on over a cheap cafeteria tuna sandwich.

“You were having interviews today too?! How come you never told me?! I’m gonna eat your food for not telling me stuff, you’ve been weird ever since that party that you went off for a smoke and dipped!” She took another humongous bite and you jumped over the table, finally snatching whatever remained of your food out of her hands.

“I haven’t been weird!” you had, “and yes, I did. I am interviewing for internship openings in criminal law, but… well, you’ve been through that these days yourself. You know the drill.” 

She grunted with tuna smeared around her mouth, trying to reach for the rest of your sandwich, and it was your turn to slap her.

“Stop it, Nobara. Quit being so stingy and buy one for yourself!” 

“Not when I can eat your food for free,” she joked while taking a big gulp from your soda can, and you sighed, which only gave her a shit eating grin. “Did you interview for that spot they announced today?” 

“What? What opening?”

“I just saw it, there was a new flyer on the main hall board. It’s an internship for criminal law, apparently under the guidance of Professor Geto,” Nobara said while shrugging. “Apparently the huge firm now has a criminal law department too. It was announced last week or so.” 

“Did it say up until when they were taking applications?” 

***

Each and every tendon in your body tensed as you sat with the perfect lady-like crossed ankles at the 45º angle under your second-hand suit. The meeting room was, for the lack of a better word, mighty, having an entire glass wall peering into the rest of the office, and towered over you high enough to have you feeling like a tiny speck of dust humbly drifting its way over the clearly expensive brown, leather couch. A few people walked by as you waited, and the mahogany table seemed big enough to fit three people. It was probably worth your entire year’s tuition, and you wondered if the ceiling height really needed to be tailored for elves. Or ents. Tree people, perhaps.

The firm’s name hung high right in front of you, the logo and letters made out of stainless steel illuminated by LEDs behind it. Opulence wasn’t a big enough word to describe that pompous display of corporate wealth.

You were fished out of your rags to riches daydreams by the pivoting door opening, figuring it was your interviewer for the position. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the already well-known foxy-eyed, long haired Professor to come in, but a much more stoic individual with the polar opposite for a hair, not only in length but in color too. You already knew him from afar, as your commercial law Professor. He carried himself in a dignified manner, and upon further inspection, not only was his navy blue suit absolutely pristine, he also didn’t have a single hair strand out of place. You got up to greet him, bowing respectfully, and he returned the gesture.

“Good afternoon, Mrs.,” he said as he sat down on his chair across from you, “my name is Nanami Kento and I’ll be responsible for your interview today.”

You introduced yourself, and remarked, “apologies, but I thought Prof- I mean, Mr. Geto would be the one responsible for this interview today.”

 “As it stands currently, the criminal law department is my responsibility,” Nanami clarified, “so I decided I’d be the one responsible for interviewing our future team. I currently work in our corporate law department.”

You acquiesced with a professional smile. Something about how every tiny detail in him was on point gave you enough leads to conclude that of course this man took it upon himself to be the one responsible for the interviews.

“I’ve read in your resume that you are currently undertaking criminal law I and criminal procedure law I,” Nanami said as he held your resume in his hand, glancing at you and then at the paper, “which isn’t ideal for an intern entering a newly built department.”

Harsh enough?

You readjusted yourself on your chair before speaking.

“Yes, I am.”

He hummed quietly and pulled another paper sheet from his briefcase, and even if his facial expression was perfectly collected, something about how the edges of his lips curled gave away that he was less than happy about whatever was written on it.

“Our HR insisted I should bring this questionnaire with me today, so that I could ask you this list of questions as part of our interview,” he stated, his words followed by a quiet sigh. Nanami then proceeded to tilt the paper towards him and took a moment before proceeding. “Tell me more about yourself in three… captivating anecdotes.”

His voice sounded robotic, as if he was feigning not to loathe the question at hand, and deep down, you did find it amusing. Not enough to distract yourself from the fact that you were usually horrible at interviews altogether, though.

“I’m currently in my late twenties. I started law school last year, and worked during my early twenties to save money for tuition. I’m really passionate about criminal law, that is why I applied.”

Oh, God. What was that?

Well, you sounded robotic too, listing off obvious factualities as if providing a recipe’s ingredients. Both of you stared at each other in silence, wondering if that was what this question was supposed to infer, and it took the two of you so long to speak up again that it became uncomfortable.

Clearing his throat, Nanami unconsciously loosened his tie — barely — before continuing.

Well, at least I’m not the only one who’s uncomfortable.

“What…” he paused for a moment, and seemed to be biting down a discontented sigh, “animal would you be?” His gaze quickly darted down the sheet of paper, and his displeasure was palpable. For someone with such a straight face, his eyes were very telling.

What are these questions? Are we a hip tech company? Nanami thought to himself, wondering if he should make a new list to leave at HR. He was quick to discard the thought once he realized that meant he’d be telling other people how to do their jobs, something he did enough of already.

You didn’t quite know what the hell to answer.

“I… don’t know? I haven’t really thought about that in my life? A cat, perhaps?”

“I haven’t thought about that either, don’t worry, that’s unimportant. Let’s move on to the next question. How…” Nanami lifted an eyebrow, and that alone was enough to tell he was absolutely consternated, “many basketballs can fit inside a bus?”

“… Huh?”

Is this serious?

“I apologize, I believe there must have been some sort of mix-up at the HR, let me…”

Nanami was interrupted by three knocks on the glass wall. You both turned your heads to see Professor Gojo pointing at something — the paper Nanami held in his hands — while subsequently making a thumbs up, a wide grin smeared all over his face.

Without uttering a word nor missing a beat, Nanami got up, walked towards the glass and pulled on something you hadn’t yet noticed. Immediately, blinds slowly descended in front of the glass wall, and Nanami calmly walked his way back to his chair as Gojo’s face tried to keep peering inside the meeting room, descending alongside the rim of the blinds. He kept plastering his hands over the glass like a mimic.

A faint pained moan and a thud echoed once the blinds were about a foot away from reaching the floor.

“Is everything okay?” you inquired, pointing at Gojo’s direction.

“Ignore that.”

That wasn’t a request. You nodded. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Perfect. Let’s also ignore this for a while,” Nanami remarked while putting the sheet of questions aside with his fingertips as if it was radioactive. “Let’s try something else.”

Nanami had this feeling — a familiar one — that he’d be able to pry from you what he needed to know if he went about this interview in a more practical fashion. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“I’m going to describe a hypothetical scenario, and I want you to debate it with me,” he stated.

“Okay.”

“A client comes to this office being investigated of homicide and he wants to hire the firm to represent them in Court. They intend to plead not guilty.” you nodded, and Nanami continued, “The victim was shot, but there was no gun to be found in the crime scene. However, the client was the only person in the vicinity apart from the victim’s body. The client’s clothes — a long sleeved shirt and jeans — are evidence that has been collected at the crime scene, but no forensics were requested for it by the prosecution. When questioned in their first meeting, the client is adamant that they did not commit the crime. The attorney needs to decide which path to take regarding evidence they’ll request or submit. Now, I ask you, which type of evidence would the attorney request if the client is truly innocent?”

You took a deep breath while mentally going over the hypothetical scenario Nanami had just relayed, and considering all he mentioned, there was only one possibility.

“If my client was truly innocent, I’d ask for forensic evidence on their clothes. Guns leave gunpowder vestiges on things like clothes, so if this person didn’t actually pull the trigger, there should be no gunpowder on their sleeves.”

Nanami acquiesced, but remained silent. 

Ok, this is not the only thing he wants to know.

“Also… I’d tell exactly that to the client.”

Nanami’s face remained completely expressionless, but something about how he tilted his head less than an inch gave you the feeling that he seemed pleased with your answer.

“And why would you do that?”

“We need to work with accurate information. If the client was lying, and we submitted a request for that evidence — forensics on their clothes — we’d be tanking their defense. They need to know what we’ll be submitting as evidence and why. I believe telling that to our client would be enough to sway them into telling us the truth,” you sighed, before concluding, “people lie. Even when they shouldn’t.”

Nanami silently picked your resume back into his hands, and seemed to scan it quickly with his eyes. You knew your chances were slim, considering you had just started Criminal Law that very semester, something he didn’t fail to notice.

After a minute, he spoke again.

“Would you be willing to use some of your spare time to study topics you might not have seen yet in criminal law?”

“Yes.”

Your heart was thumping in your chest. This was it.

Here goes nothing.

“Then, it’s settled. Can you start on Monday?”

***

This wasn’t Higuruma’s usual go-to wish when he found himself behind the Passo’s wheel, but truth of the matter was, he hoped more than anything for his car to breakdown before he got to his destination. It wasn’t something completely out of the question considering his car’s track record, but as if some destiny’s mockery had been bestowed upon him that morning, even the clack-clack-clacks he was already used to hear for the past three months were gone. As Murphy’s Law would have it, the Passo glided over the asphalt like butter. 

“Of course you won’t fail me when I need you to, you unreliable piece of-”he muttered to himself under a discontented huff.

Put upon wasn’t strong enough to convey how Higuruma was feeling, his knuckle-white grip around the steering wheel being enough to give him a sharp pain in his palms that would surely follow him for the next few hours. In a sense, he had been knuckle-white tense ever since that morning, thinking about this endeavor he was kicking himself to push through. It was the nth time he’d tried to make that visit over the past year, one that he dreaded with each and every fiber of his being. 

The Professor eyed his passenger’s seat for a second, his gaze lingering on the plastic bag he carried with him that day. Inside, there were a bottle of Kirin, an incense, and a single sunflower. The flower was definitely too long to fit properly inside the bag, and it’s head peeped though the opening, yellow petals flickering while the car moved, every ridge on the road seemingly making it jump further and further out of its container.

With one hand on the wheel, and the other reaching out, he tried shoving the sunflower back into the bag, and in between eyeing the bag, then the road, picking the flower, pushing it, the bag sliding off the seat, loud news coming on the radio, Higuruma getting startled, his glasses slipping down his nose bridge, him pushing them back in place with his shoulder, tires screeching, a car horn, his heart pounding and his ears ringing, Higuruma came to the sensible conclusion that he should, as any responsible adult would, take a break.

I need a smoke.

Who he was visiting was definitely not going anywhere.

Checking where he was, Higuruma noticed a cafe nearby, and as fate would have it, there was a single parking spot right in front of it. He maneuvered the Passo, and the car fit neatly in between the white lines. Higuruma pulled his sunflower shawl — this time, not caught under any death trap, but laid over his back seat  alongside your scarf —, threw it around his neck and got out. He took a moment to stretch his fingers in the cold air, his breath clouding in front of his mouth, and tapped around his coat to take his wallet, finally inserting some coins into the park meter and crossing the guardrail by the sidewalk. 

He’d have exactly thirty minutes to get his shit together.

The cafe was warm, inviting, and strangely familiar, its orange light almost emanating the smell of coffee beans, croissants and decadent redemption for weary travelers. The store front had a glass display through which he saw an assortment of sweet and salty baked goods. Higuruma would probably pick one of those to eat — the greasiest one, if possible —, had he not been carrying a rock in place of his stomach for the past few hours.

With his resolution waning, he mindlessly took a step back while peeping, and sighed, his tired sigh weighing on his body deciding for him that an espresso was probably the way to go.

Stepping inside, Higuruma paid no mind to whatever was around him, and waited for his turn in line to order his drink. Across from him, you nearly choked, half a donut shoved into your powdered-sugar smeared mouth, nearly spilling your own coffee over your second-hand suit.

After your interview, you thought it’d be a good idea to have a snack, and made your way inside the closest, warmest, coziest cafe you found, which was across the firm. 

At that moment, you found yourself in a cliché adult life predicament — you just saw someone you knew, but they didn’t see you. Should you go over to greet them? Should you not? Would simply leaving be rude? Should you go actually talk to the man you definitely had — and shouldn’t have — a crush on?

You clutched your coffee harder as the thoughts flew around in your mind, as second nature at this point to avoid giving him another beverage shower.

After some quick consideration, you decided you would at least say hello, after all, it was the polite thing to do. You shoved the rest of your food into your mouth, washed it all down with the rest of your coffee, haphazardly cleaned around your mouth with a napkin and slowly walked towards him, stopping a few feet away. Somehow, he still hadn’t seen you, apparently too immersed in thought.

That was when you noticed a shawl around his neck.

It was pretty damn ugly.

“Professor, hi!” you greeted, and Higuruma got yanked out of whatever daydreams — or waking nightmares — he had been simmering in while waiting in line.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t expect to meet anyone here,” Higuruma replied, “I just stopped by for a snack.”

“Oh, nice. Their coffee is pretty good,” you said, “I got the espresso.”

“And… I hope that you’re finished already? With your coffee, I mean.” he asked while checking your hands, his usually unaffected tone slightly playful, earning him a chuckle from you.

“Rest assured, I’m not assaulting you nor your ugly shawl with my coffee,” you quipped, but his eyes only widened. His owlish eyes blinked once, and then twice, in absolute silence.

That was when you realized.

Oh. I said that out loud.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Awfully hypocritical of both of us, huh?” he noted, with a discreet smile pulling on his lips. 

Relieved, realizing he hadn’t taken offense, you sheepishly returned his smile, “I guess so. I don’t think I’ll get to keep being hypocritical about our ugly scarfs, though. I can’t seem to find mine, it’s been gone ever since that party.”

It was like a light bulb went on in Higuruma’s mind, and he cleared his throat before saying, “well, I may just prove you wrong. Follow me.”

Not fully understanding what he meant by that, you stood by him while he paid for his coffee, got it and walked outside. The cold winter breeze prickled your cheeks and your uncovered neck like hair-thin razor blades, and you followed Higuruma towards a car that wasn’t all that strange to you. Upon further inspection, you noticed that it was indeed his car, the old navy blue beat up thing you used as a shield for the wind during that night when you tried and failed at least half a dozen times to light a cigarette.

And then met him, and gave him a vodka scare.

And helped patting him dry with your-

“Here,” he called out, opening the door to the back seat. Sure enough, you saw that red, frizzly old thing tangled up in a ball.

“My scarf!” you reached inside and took it out, instantly throwing it around your neck. Higuruma noticed how you were genuinely pleased to have finally found it, and thought to himself that he’d most likely feel the same way if he ever lost and found his beat up, old shawl. 

It was just one of those things imbued with a sense of history and familiarity that only beat up, old tokens from days past had.

“Thank you,” you whispered, while sliding your fingers through the worn out cotton. “It was a gift. I might complain about it more often than not, but-”

“But it’s an important part of your life,” he replied, and you both glanced at each other while you nodded.

“Yes. Something like that. It’s my favorite curse to carry around while complaining about it, you know?” you mused, adjusting it around your neck and gratefully welcoming the warmth it brought around your neck. 

“I think I do,” he answered finally, taking a sip from his coffee.

“Let me repay you,” you offered. “Can I offer you a snack, or anything? Perhaps a smoke?”

“I’ll take you up on that cigarette offer,” he replied, and you pulled your pack out of your coat. Giving it a few taps, a cigarette popped up, and you took it in your lips, pulling another one and handing it to him.

Against his better judgement, Higuruma was slightly disappointed, and for a second, felt like kicking himself over it.

Idiot, you can’t seriously be expecting her to light a cigarette for me every time she offers you a smoke. Actually, I shouldn’t expect that at all.

 Against his will, Higuruma felt his cheeks warming up, and he tried his best to dive his face into his shawl while politely took the cigarette off your hands. You didn’t notice his moves and offered him your lighter — the same yellow, disposable one he had given you days ago. He picked it up, lit his cigarette and returned it.

“I see you still have it,” Higuruma noted, smiling gently, and you acquiesced.

“It has been my faithful companion for these past few weeks. I’m just glad I haven’t lost it like I lost my scarf,” you said before chuckling.

Higuruma leaned over the guardrail with his elbows, finally relaxing after… God knows how long. Slowly, he seemed to be getting lost in thought, and you seized the opportunity to better look at his shawl.  It had a sunflower pattern that went in a straight line right in front of it.

Still looking around as he stewed in his silent contemplations, you noticed there was a bag laying on top of his passenger’s seat. Peeping through it, stood a single sunflower, and what seemed to be the top of a Kirin bottle.

A sunflower man, hm?

The thought amused you as the corners of your mouth perked up in a gleeful smile, but you were quickly pulled out from it.

“Do you work nearby?” he asked, while taking a drag from his cigarette. “This is far from campus.”

“No. I mean, not yet. I was just… chasing my dreams,” you remarked, puffing some smoke. “What about you, Professor?”

Higuruma chuckled softly.

“I was being haunted by mine.”

You must’ve looked puzzled, because he quickly amended, “I was just on my way to visit someone and took a break for some coffee, that’s all.”

“Oh, I see,” you replied, realizing you were probably getting in his way. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you from your appointment. I-”

“It’s okay, there’s no one waiting for me. Or so I like to think.”

That comment left you with more questions than answers.

“Apologies. I don’t mean to keep you from going about the rest of your day too,” he bid behind a curtain of smoke, “and thank you for the cigarette. I really needed it.”

With your final puffs, you put your cigarette out and smiled at Higuruma.

“It’s okay, Professor. I should really get going, though. We are, indeed, far from campus and I’d like to get to my dorm before it’s dark.”

With a bow, you walked away, leaving Higuruma to his own devices. He sighed, alone with himself and his thoughts once again, turning his attention once more to the bag he had inside his car.

“Hiromi,” a familiar voice called out. Higuruma turned around, only to be met by Nanami, who had a indecipherable expression on his face.

Minutes before, Nanami decided to visit the nearby cafe and check if they had his favorite casse croûte that day. He wouldn’t mind getting a croissant, though.

 Upon stepping outside his building with dreams of pastries swirling around his overworked mind, he noticed you and Higuruma outside the cafe, and figured that was the perfect opportunity to approach you both and introduce you as the new intern for the criminal law department. It was just a matter of time before Higuruma accepted his offer, as Nanami thought, and you’d be both working together. However, before he could, Nanami noticed you and Higuruma were chatting, and not only that, but you approached Higuruma’s car and got something — apparently belonging to you — from his back seat. The ugliest red scarf Nanami had ever seen.

… What?

Nanami then remembered that you were a student on the very same university he tended to.

The same one in which Higuruma was a teacher too.

Why does Hiromi have things belonging to a student in the backseat of his car, of all places?  

Nanami was at a loss for words, and faltered for a few moments, wondering how he should ask Hiromi about this. That is, if he even should ask Hiromi about anything at all. Nanami decided to watch from afar, and something about the way Higuruma was carrying himself bothered Nanami.

He had only seen his best friend behaving like that in very specific scenarios, ones in which Hiromi definitely shouldn’t be interacting with a student of his.

After you left, Kento finally walked towards Hiromi, still uncertain if he should question his friend about the nature of your relationship with him. He could be imagining things.

But something was definitely disturbing him, he was sure of it. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“Kento, hi! Oh… I had forgotten, your firm is nearby, isn’t it?” Hiromi asked while looking around. “Sorry, I always seem to forget where it is. That explains why this cafe felt so familiar. Care for a smoke?”

“No.”

“You haven’t smoked with me in a long time,” Higuruma offered, pulling his own cigarette pack from his coat’s inner pocket. 

“I quit years ago,” Nanami reminded him, trying to put an end to this conversation detour.

“You still smoke on special occasions,” Higuruma offered, “eh, I wish I had your resolve.”

“You do, you just fail to direct it at things that will benefit you in the long run.”

“Just my little human shortcoming, I guess,” Higuruma finally replied, sparing Nanami a soft smile. He walked towards his car while unlocking it, “Let’s have something to eat, the coffee opened up my appetite. I just need to get more coins in case I end up going over the meter’s time limit, hold on.”

“Hiromi,” Nanami said once again, his tone graver than usual. That caught Higuruma’s attention.

“Hm, is everything okay?” Higuruma asked while leaning into his car.

Before Nanami could go on with his planned line of inquiry, he noticed what was over passenger’s seat. Especially the sunflower.

“Are you at it again?” Nanami asked, gesturing with his head towards it.

“Ah, you saw it…” Higuruma commented, as if he was a child being caught red handed while making a mess out of the house. “Well, yes. I’m trying to, and failing at it once again.”

“You know you don’t have to go, right?” Kento offered, while pulling some change from his pocket. “I have coins, we’ll be fine. Let me get you a snack, this cafe has the best casse croute around.”

“I do have to go, though,” Higuruma closed the door and stepped back onto the sidewalk. “I should, at least.”

Higuruma’s earlier energy seemed to wane ever so slightly, his shoulders falling while he slouched, unconsciously making himself smaller. 

“I don’t think I’ll manage to do it today, either,” he finally said, his eyes low on his feet, and his voice barely above a whisper.

Assessing the situation, it was clear that Higuruma was in no way in the right mindset to have that conversation regarding you, so Nanami put a mental note on it to ask about it at a later time. He stepped beside Hiromi and put a hand gently on his shoulder, sighing.

“Is it low tar?” Nanami questioned, clearing his throat to disguise his displeasure.

“Hm, what?”

“Your cigarette. Is it low tar?”

Higuruma huffed, a tiny smile forming on his lips as he said, “yes, yes it is.”

In a smooth motion, Higuruma pulled his pack back out of his coat and took two cigarettes out of it, handing one to Nanami along with a lighter. With the disposition of a man ready to face the electric chair, Kento pursed his lips around the cigarette, and lit it, only to be thrown in a coughing fit moments later.

“How the mighty do fall,” Higuruma noted with a discreet smirk on his lips, “you used to smoke more than me.”

“Shut up,” Nanami managed to churn out in between coughs, “this brand is awful.”

His friend chuckled while taking one long drag from his cigarette.

“Hey, Kento.”

“What?” Nanami considered tossing the cigarette as far as he could, but tried his best to survive it, even if just for Hiromi’s benefit.

“Is that offer still on the table? To…” Hiromi paused for a moment, clearing his throat, “hm, work in your firm?”

Managing to get his throat and lungs under control, Nanami glanced at Hiromi, knowing full well that good things came to those who wait.

Just like he had.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

Hi, did you know I like to shamelessly plug people's work? No? So, yeah. I love doing that.

I got this STUNNING commission from @radish-breath and I have no shame to admit that I scrumpt a scream never screamt before when I got this 😭💜 I think you should go check out her work if you still haven't, lots of great sfw and nsfw pieces (all truly delectable 🤌) - Twitter | Patreon | Carrd.

Rad, once again (you already listened to me screeching like a banshee and ugly crying over it, lol), thank you very much for this amazing piece. It is beyond my wildest dreams alsdjasldkj

-

Tag list (updated):

@arusearu @yammy-yammy-yama @redlikerozez @killerplink

@alwaysfreakingout @murderofravens @cmdrfupa @higurumapet @cindyneko-strider @howmanytimesamigoingtotrythis

@ohhheymessa @bigbaddulce @actuallysaiyan @s-witch-bitch @yeonjunarchives

@soft--cherry @quinnyundertow @traffi @shibataimu @shimadalluvia

[floofyroro]

To Be Held

Pairing: Crosshair/Reader

Words: 682 (fic vignette)

Tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, semi-established relationship

Summary: In a quiet moment together, you inquire about Crosshair's scar.

A/N: Many drabbles sit untouched in my notes app. I'm getting tired of staring at my longer WIPs and I think I just need to share something at this point. Please accept these crumbs and let me know if this resonates with you. 🙏 Part 2 is here.

Your touch is feather-light against his temple. He allows his head to lay limply across your lap and despite how intimate it feels, he can’t find any reason to care. Not when your fingertips trail back and forth from his cheeks to his neck. When they reach his shoulders, you press into him, making quick work of any lingering tension.

“What’s the story behind this scar?” 

He goes rigid and you must notice because you pause your minstrations as a result. 

“I’m sorry.”

A pause. 

“I… we don’t have to talk about—“

“Bracca,” he interrupts you, causing you to quiet. 

“It happened on the planet Bracca while I was still serving the Empire.”

His voice feels hoarse from disuse. When your touch resumes, albeit with more hesitance, so does he.

“I was… targeting my brothers and Omega. But I was facing an ion engine when it ignited. I... couldn’t get away in time.” 

The breeze picks up once more, the curtains billowing in the background. Crosshair welcomes the salt-licked sensation that’s brought in by the wind, finding that it contrasts nicely against the rise of his own internal body temperature. 

His body seems to remember the moment far too well. Crosshair has to tamp down against the rising fear, the rising anxiety that threatens to overtake him. He feels it all creeping over his shoulders but this time…

This time, your touch is already there to combat these ghosts. It takes your lithe fingers, your dexterous thumbs to press into him and he finds that maybe he can move on from these moments, these ghosts. 

If only while by your side.

While you remain silent, he reassesses.  Perhaps with time, you’ll come to find that he isn’t worth the commitment, that his baggage is too daunting to carry. With each layer that he bares before you, he finds that his confidence in being vulnerable is challenged. Will continue to be challenged. He wonders that with time, it’ll ease.

You sigh. 

He waits, anticipating a form of rejection. He wonders if looking up into your eyes would reveal a look of disgust.

You don't give him much time to ponder further.

Your hair trickles against his nose before he registers that you’re leaning down to cradle his head to your chest. Soft hands support him, and the sound of your heartbeat thrums against his cheek, his temple. 

It’s a rather nice sound. 

“You have been through so much.” 

It takes him a moment too long to parse the meaning of your words. These aren’t words that should be directed towards him. No, not with the mountain of sin weighing heavily on his shoulders. 

Instead of accepting them, he focuses on your heartbeat, the sound a balm for these thoughts.

It’s a soft, lulling thing.

But your caress against his temple, his scar, is what brings him back to you. 

He doesn’t know what to say to that. He… 

His chest tightens because yes. He can admit that he has gone through enough. An arm snakes around you in his own attempt to return the embrace, the action surprising yet natural. 

You tighten your hold on him in response. 

“I’m sorry, Crosshair. But I’m so glad you’re here now,” and he opens his eyes to find that his gaze is clouded, his cheeks dampening as he tries to inhale steadily, “here, where you’re safe. Here, with me.”

There’s a crack in your voice and it causes his heart to stutter. He isn’t used to this. This.. feels too good to be true. Is he dreaming? The rational side of him berates such a thought because obviously he’s awake and he’s here, with you, with kind words directed towards him, their meaning a nectar which he feels drawn to, finding that he’s ravenous for more.

Instead of speaking, he uses his palm on your back to pull you closer, the pressure of your chest against him welcome and grounding. Without a second thought, his fingers brush against your spine, your shirt catching against the callouses on his hands.

He’s never been good with words anyway. 

Masterlist

[nabi-unveiled]

I've picked my jaw up off the floor from the peak makjang messiness of Episode 6 of Secret Relationships.

Conclusion: It's hella fun, but it's not "good".

Yes, there is a difference.

When I talk about "good", I'm typically referencing the more technical aspects of writing, cinematography, acting, etc. In this case, it's the writing committing the majority of our crimes.

Note - the reverse can also be true. There are productions that are technically and narratively excellent that I find dreadfully dull.

I'd rather shows be entertaining and good. But if the choice must be made - I'll choose entertaining every time. This show is definitely that for me. I'm having a blast.

Explaining why I made this conclusion would take longer than I have time-wise at the moment. I'll want to properly organize the evidence. Hopefully, I'll have time Sunday or Monday. (There are some really cool framing shots we could discuss too, but I don't know if I'll go there or not.)

In any case - I'm still here for these messy characters. I love it when things happen that are not on my bingo card. It's still committing fewer narrative crimes than The Boy Next World finale 🙈. (Side note: I still haven't worked up the courage for the ThamePo finale)

Going forward - I really hope they lean into the insanity. That's what this show has going for it in spades.

The two things I'm now contemplating (that are mostly independent of my criticisms of the script itself).

Things to Ponder #1: Da-on and Su-hyeong's kiss.

Facts are - Da-on kissed him. He was actively participating in the kiss. You could argue that Su-hyeong was somewhat forcing him into it, but I DEFINITELY don't see that as true. Why? Because, Da-on isn't passive in this one. He's actively kissing back. We KNOW he'll avoid if he doesn't want it. He does it with Jae-min later in the episode.

I do think it's possible that he wasn't sure if he wanted the kiss or not (just like holding hands with Sung-hyun) and he went with it. He's definitely a character that defaults to going with the flow until he makes a decision. Da-on's the one that stops the kiss when he decides it has went too far, he's feeling bad about Sung-hyun, and he's sure he doesn't want it. When he finally made a decision is when the kiss stopped. Su-hyeon still spent the night, and it doesn't look like he pursued it further. Da-on seems to have slept on the couch.

Frankly, Da-on's a weird character. I personally don't see him as a doormat or meek mouse character. He's making choices that doormats don't typically make. His behavior doesn't match the typical doormat archetype either (particularly with Sung-hyun). However, I couldn't really tell you what other term I'd use for him at the moment. He's a very strange mix of passive and spitfire. He's competent and confident until he's not. He lets things happen to him until he suddenly pulls the brakes. He has a lot of pride (another strike against the doormat). He shares some elements with a "candy girl" character from old k-dramas, but he definitely doesn't share enough of them for me to call him that. I digress.

What is frustrating is that we don't know enough about Da-on to fully understand him and know exactly where he is on this line of participating in the kiss.

Because this dialogue should mean something (beyond him driving Sung-hyun away).

But I don't know what the hell it means. Who did he abandon? Does he feel like he abandoned Jae-min for Su-hyeon? Does he feel like he abandoned Su-hyeon for Jae-min? Were there other parties in the mix over the years? We don't know, because the show is keeping backstory WAY too close to the chest in an attempt at surprising reveals.

My personal head canon at the moment: Da-on and Su-hyeon were having regular makeout sessions even while Su-hyeon was "dating" Jae-min. Su-hyeon agreed not to date him; he didn't agree not to kiss him. That's why Da-on feels like he's a bad person. That's why he scolded Su-hyeon saying that it was going to hurt Jae-min that Su-hyeon was flirting with him on the bleachers/steps. I would love if this were true as it would mean Jae-min had missed something.

Things to Ponder #2 - My pretty-in-pink mastermind stabbing himself.

I find this actor way more attractive than I should in this situation, and I'm still not over his sweater matching the plates. But I now get to ponder...WHY did he stab himself?

Is this because he's lost all control? The chess pieces have been knocked over.

Is it because he's trying to emotionally manipulate Da-on? A type of "leave me and I'll off myself". Because Da-on is obviously still struggling with considering Jae-min ALL bad and cutting ties. Because there is NO good reason for Da-on to still want to talk to him.

Is it because he's trying to threaten Da-on? I'm sure he could make this look like Da-on stabbed him. I know there are a few "villains" that have done that in the past. Most have done it to make the protagonist look bad in front of a crowd though. I'm trying to think of a villain that's used it in private. I feel like there's at least one. I just can't think of it at the moment. In any case, we know this man plays the long game and he plays hardball.

Did I miss some options? Probably. Because I don't trust the writing on this makjang at all. That said - I'm buying popcorn for next week.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi hi! Can I request an angsty/fluff piece with Jason? Maybe he hasn't told her that he's Red Hood yet, and they want to tell him that she loves him for the first time, but with his constant disappearances at night they're thinking that he's starting to get tired of them?

This went a little too long when I decided to stop, so I might need to split this into two parts if needs be 🦦

‘Hey honey,’ you greeted Jason with a peck to the cheek, pulling away smiling brightly. ‘Are you all ready for movie night tonight? I’ve already got a couple films set up and ready to go and I promise none of them will make you cry like last time.’

Jason grimaced. Shit, he knew that something was happening tonight but couldn’t remember what and -like a dumbass- had agreed to going out on a patrol with Dick and Damian later on. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry chipmunk I can’t do movie night tonight. Can we do it next week?’ Jason hated how he was the one who made the smile upon your face disappear as quickly as it came, he hated how he was the reason why the excitement left your eyes, only to be replaced by a look of poorly concealed disappointment.

Jason hated how it seemed as of late that his commitment to being a vigilante had been the leading cause of your unhappiness. While he was out clearing Gotham almost every night, you were left in your shared apartment, left to sleep alone in a bed that was designed for two people and ponder how things could’ve gotten to this stage; wondering whether this was a relationship worth being in after all.

You sighed, trying to be understanding but how could you when this was the third time Jason had bailed on you this week. It didn’t seem fair to keep trying at this point when it seems as though you’re the only one who is actively trying to make time for each other. You had planned to tell Jason you loved him tonight but all that was thrown into the bin, all because he apparently forgot all about it. ‘It’s fine Jason, I’m sure whatever you have going on is inherently more important.’ You said, feeling more hurt than anything as you clenched your jaw to stop yourself from saying something you’ll inevitably regret.

‘I’ll make it up to you-‘

‘Would you like to know how many times you claimed that you’ll make it up to me but never have?’ You asked Jason rhetorically and watched his face further become into one of guilt. ‘Three. Times.’ You told him, holding up three fingers. ‘Once is excusable, but three times Jason. I thought you were over making false promises, much like how I’d trick myself into thinking that you would actually like to spend time with me in our own apartment, but it seems like I was wrong as per usual.’ You scoffed.

Jason tried to reach out for your hand to console you, but you immediately took it away before he could and put a good deal of distance between the two of you to show that you were in need of comfort but not from him. ‘Y/n, I’m sorry-‘

‘Don’t bother. Just make sure to have your keys on you before you leave because I wont stay up for you anymore.’ Was all you said before leaving the room to go into your room, where you’d stay until he left for the night doing god knows what. His disappearing act didn’t bother you at first but when it become more frequent and grew more obstructive when you wanted to spend the night with him, a pit in your stomach grew and it had been growing ever since followed by thoughts that doubted Jason’s loyalty to you.

Were you boring him but he didn’t have the heart to tell you? Is that why he’s been disappearing almost every night or so? Just so he could meet up with someone else behind your back and shit talk you? If that was the case then he could stay out for all you cared, you’ve given him your heart but it didn’t seem as though he couldn’t bring himself to even fake in giving a shit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile Jason felt like the biggest dickhead ever. He could tell that you were reaching the end of your rope with him and he wasn’t so sure that he could go back to living by himself if you were to ever leave him, he could try but it wouldn’t be the same when you were the reason his apartment felt like an apartment at all. And yet he has no one else to blame for this but himself.

He was the reason you could’ve have a simple date night at home.

He was the reason for your frequent disappointment.

He was the reason you no longer felt loved by him but that just wasn’t true. Jason loved you so much it physically hurt and scared the poor man of what he was willing to do for you. Jason’s love for you burned him in the most delicious way imaginable, he was left wanting for more, hooked on your love as though it was an easily addictive drug sweeping the streets of Gotham. However even Jason couldn’t ignore the wedge between him and you, a wedge that only seemed to get worse the more Jason bailed on you for his vigilante business.

As he was sulking in the fact that this might be the end of your relationship, Jason got a text from Dick asking where he was and all Jason could think of whilst grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment, was how he was going to make up for every night that you felt as though you were abandoned by him; and if anyone who knew Jason best knew he was anything but a quitter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Movie night was depressing as shit when you were having it all by yourself as a way to cope with the fact that you might not be enough to keep Jason interested.

You were bundled up in bed, hugging your childhood plushie tightly against your chest as you watched a movie adaptation to one of Jason’s most favoured book out of Jane Austen‘s body of work. Hell most of the movies you’ve picked out were based on Jason’s favourite author but you weren’t enjoying it as you would if he was beside you, muttering the lines alongside the characters under his breath as he held you against his chest as though you were something precious; even going so far at to using the excuse that when a kissing scene happens you should be kissing too for a more immersive experience.

He was such a dork but he was your dork and now it feels as though he didn’t want to be called yours anymore.

You didn’t know what it was that you did for him to get bored of you but it hurt like a motherfucker and the more you thought about it the more your eyes began to well up with unshed tears. ‘What am I doing wrong snuffles?’ You brought your plushie to face you with its beady button eyes. ‘Am I really that much of a bore that he can’t bring himself to just end it? What does he get out of dragging me along? Is this some sick joke to him?’ You asked and you asked but got no response, then again that’s what you get when trying to seek answers from a weighted plushie.

‘Who am I kidding.’ You uttered defeatedly as you put down your plushie, switched off the tv after seeing that there was no point in having it on in the first place, and stared up at the ceiling as you tried to will sleep to hurry up and claim you. ‘Did you know that I was planning on telling him that I loved him?’ You asked aloud for no one in particular, smiling weakly as you wiped your eyes. ‘How stupid was it of me to think that we’d ever last. He’s obviously found someone else who doesn’t bore him as easily as I do…so why should I stay?’ You felt yourself wanting to cry again but you were too tired to give your body what it wants and tried to ignore the lump in your throat by forcing your eyes shut.

*knock, knock, knock*

[juliennevalery]

✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part four

part one, part two, part three

summary: After the date, you can’t help but overthink every aspect of it, turns out it was just your mind playing tricks on you, and good men still exists.

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, crying, overthinking.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: I am so grateful for all of your likes, reblogs and comments guys, it truly gives me the power to continue this series, because I know that there is someone who actually like what I write, lov u <3

Enjoy! taglist masterlist

"She was amazing. I mean, I’ve never met someone like her, you know? She’s just different in a good way.” He sighed.

After your last date, he couldn't stop thinking about you. Almost a week had passed, and your relationship was blossoming faster than he thought it would, but he certainly had no complaints. Now, he saw you nearly every day when you dropped off Molly at school. Somehow, he always managed to be nearby, and your eyes would meet unexpectedly, as if it was meant to happen. You exchanged messages a few times a day, and without fail, he always sent you a good morning and goodnight message, no matter what he was doing. Grading papers, going to bed? Not without sending you a "Goodnight, sweetheart. Hope you had a good day."

After all that happened, he wasn’t so shy anymore. Instead, he wanted to make you blush every time he saw you. You just looked so cute when your cheeks started to get red after a minute of him speaking without breaking eye contact.

"You dozed off again, mate” Sirius snapped him out of his lethargy with his irritated voice. "She got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?” A smirk appeared on his face, when he saw how Remus’s eyes started gleaming.

Remus took a sip of his bear and leaned against the chair.

It was one of their favorite haunts, a cozy pub with dark wooden furnishings and a comforting, lived-in feel. The bubbling hum of conversation and the low strumming of a live acoustic guitar warmth the room.

"And you don't even notice," he added after a moment, his voice tinged with amusement.

"Maybe…but I don’t think I want to notice.” He chuckled.

The truth was, yeah. You got him wrapped around his finger, and it’s was scary, because he wanted more and more everyday, and it was a dangerous game to play.

"Give yourself a chance, Moony," he said, leaning forward on the table. "It's now or never. From what I've heard she's really something special. Girls like her don't come around often." He gave him a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, you should know something about it.” He snorted sarcastically.

"Oh come on, I sleep around because I didn’t found the one, yet, so don’t judge me, that’s my way to do this!”

Remus shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I know, Sirius. But maybe, just maybe, it's time to think about changing your ways."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Look who's talking. Mr. Commitment himself. Just because you've found someone special doesn't mean everyone's that lucky."

"True," Remus admitted. "But luck has nothing to do with it. Sometimes, it's about taking a chance."

Sirius took a long sip of his drink, pondering Remus's words. "Maybe you're right," he said finally, drifting off to his own thoughts for a second.

"But I’m giving this chance, definitely.” Remus said after a while, and then the two of them took a long sip of their beers.

"Cheers to that, then.”

"I’m giving this a chance, Marlene but I’m scared to make mistake, it’s so frustrating.”

You sat on your couch, talking on your phone with Marlene. You had been replaying the date over and over in your head, analyzing every little detail. Though you had genuinely enjoyed yourself, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt. Then she called you. A true miracle for your sorrows.

Were you ready to start dating again? Could you balance a new relationship with the demands of being a mom? These questions swirled in your mind, refusing to be silenced.

"Girl, sometimes you think too much, just let go already! He’s a fine man, the most decent you’ll probably find ever, so where’s all this doubt coming from him?"

"It’s different, I have a daughter, and I don’t want her to suffer, when he decides I’m not the one.” Your lips quivered, and you wanted to cry.

She sighed, making a comfortable pause.

"Babes, I know it's scary, but sometimes it's worth it. Besides, didn't he make it clear on the date that he liked where this is going? Maybe you should just message him and see for yourself, maybe you should just talk to him, it’s a key to connection.”

"I just don’t want to mess this up, Marl," you whispered, rubbing your eyes with your fingers.

”And you won’t, trust me.”

The sound of small footsteps interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Molly standing in the doorway, clutching her favorite stuffed animal, a well-loved bunny named Floppy.

"Mommy, why are you still awake?" Molly asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her eyes.

"I have to go, Molly just woke up.” you said, ending the call with a quick goodbye. You placed your phone on the coffee table and sighed.

Then, you managed a smile, patting the spot next to you on the couch. "Just thinking about grown-up stuff, sweetie. Come here, sweetie.”

Molly trotted over and climbed onto the couch, snuggling up next to you. “Is it about Mr. Lupin?" She whispered, rubbing her tired eyes.

Caught off-guard, you looked down at Molly, who gazed up at you with innocent curiosity. You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yes, it is." You sigh.

Molly's face brightened. "I like him, Mommy. He's nice and tells funny stories in class."

You felt a lump form in her throat. "I'm glad you like him, Molly. I think I like him too.” You whisper the last part to yourself.

Molly yawned, nuzzling her stuffed bunny. “If you like him, then why are you sad?”

You lowered your gaze to meet hers, and with a gentle movement, you extended your arm to pull her toward you, drawing her close as she snuggled into your side.

“It’s nothing sweetie. Mommy’s okay.” You smiled encouragingly. “It was just a tough day.”

"Can we read a story before bed then?” Molly asked, her eyes already drooping but filled with hope.

"Course!" you exclaimed with infectious enthusiasm, lifting her gently into your arms. "We need to find out where the little prince will be doing today!" With a grin, you carried her towards her bedroom.

She let out a joyous giggle as you spun her around in your arms, creating a gentle breeze between you. Her laughter filled the air, and a grin spread across your face as you continued to move towards her bedroom.

Once Molly was tucked comfortably under the warmth of her blanket, you selected one of her favorite books and started to read aloud. As you flipped through the pages, your thoughts began to drift towards Remus, and despite your best efforts to focus on the story, his face kept appearing in your mind, his smile and gentle demeanor tugging at your heartstrings.

On the other side, your thoughts were a whirlwind of mixed emotions. Ever since you had returned from the date, a battle was raging in your mind. You couldn't deny how perfect the moment had been between the two of you, but the lingering fear of facing the same heartache and letdown again was clouding your judgment. Despite the growing feeling in your chest, the thought of opening yourself up to potential pain felt overwhelmingly terrifying.

After a short while, you glanced down at Molly and noticed she was fast asleep. Smiling warmly, you leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her head. Quietly, you made your way back to the living room, settling onto the couch as you grabbed your phone. Your finger hovered over Remus's contact, an internal debate unfolding within you. Should you text him or not?

Fuck it, your mind screamed.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you started typing a message and without further thinking you hit send.

“Hey, I know it’s late. Just wanted to say goodnight.”

Fuck, why did you do it in the first place anyway, he probably won’t answ-

And then you saw three dots blinking.

“Hey, everything’s alright?”

Your fingers froze as you pondered your reply.

”Yeah, why?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

”Can I come over? Just for a minute.”

You felt tears gathering in your eyes, and It took him a second after your reply to realize you weren’t okay.

”Please.”

He was there after 15 minutes of walk, knocking on your door at 11 pm at night. Was he crazy? Maybe, but he couldn’t care less when you gave him such weird text. Maybe you didn’t want to take this thing between you any further? Oh god that’s was the worst scenario.

When you unlocked the door, he saw you looking miserable, with tired eyes that spoke of sleepless night. You hesitated as you stared at him, and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself. Then he really looked at you and saw that your eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Those pretty eyes sad, with something he couldn’t decipher. Something inside him broke at the sight, and he knew he had to do something to make it better.

“Y/N?”

“I…”

“Can I come in or is it too much right now?” He asked with a soft voice that made you shed a single tear down your cheek as you felt the warmth of his concern.

He was too good for you, but you loved it more than anything.

“Yes, you can.”

You stepped aside from the entrance, and he moved closer, gently closing the door behind him. As he approached, his eyes softened with concern, and you could feel the comfort of his presence wrapping around you.

”What’s going on, can I help somehow?” His voice carried a hint of panic at seeing you so upset, but he was determined to face it.

”I’m just…I’m so scared, I don’t want to even think about it anymore.” Your voice trembled, and with it, your tears began to fall. You pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself, seeking comfort, but it did little to ease your misery.

”C’mere.” He stepped closer, his hands gently reaching for your waist. When you leaned in, burying your face in his chest, he felt a lump form in his throat. As your tears continued to fall, he had to gulp, struggling to keep his composure. The sight of you so vulnerable and upset pierced his heart, and despite the comforting embrace he offered, he couldn’t help but feel a deep ache inside. He wished he could take away your pain, holding you tighter as if his warmth alone could make everything right.

His palms gently moved to your back, pressing you closer until you were completely enveloped in his embrace. From the outside, it must have looked incredibly sweet, with you looking so small and delicate in his arms, like he was trying to shield you from the world, but now, all he could think about were your cries, each one tugging at his heart.

“What are you scared of, hm?” He whispered softly, waiting for a while as your cries began to quiet down.

”I just down want to fuck this up.” You confessed softly, your words still muffled against his chest as you kept your face hidden. He held you tighter, his heartbeat steady and reassuring against your cheek, fingers gently brushing through your hair.

”This?” He sounded confused.

”Us.” You added.

And then it clicked.

”Can you look at me, sweetheart?” He reached for your face, and when he managed to finally look in your eyes again, he couldn’t help but gather your tears with his thumb. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his warm hands against your skin, nearly melting away and momentarily forgetting everything on your mind.

Were you this touch starved? Pathetic.

"It’s so stupid, actually," you began. ”We were just on our first date, and now I’ve probably scared you off. You must think I’m some psycho who—"

“Hey, that’s not what I think, and you shouldn’t either. Don’t ever call yourself a psycho again,” he said, his gaze softening. It pained him to hear you label yourself like that.

“You don’t?” You gave him look of a scared little lost child.

Fuck, what did you do to him?

“I know that you’re scared for Molly, I can see it in your eyes every time we mention her, but it’s okay. It’s okay to not be okay, and to be scared. Sometimes I’m scared of fucking things up too. I want it to be right for both of us, for Molly. It might be too early, but I care about you, and I don’t mean no harm when I say I’m ready to explore things between us further, whenever you are ready, at your pace, no bullshit. I’m not like this, Y/N.”

You listened with a mix of shock and curiosity as he spoke, each word planting seeds of hope and warmth in your heart. His sincerity and the depth of his feelings started to dissolve the fears that had clouded your mind. You could feel that familiar warmth growing inside you, a comforting reminder that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time. His reassurance and patience began to heal the doubts you had, filling you with a renewed sense of possibility and trust.

“Are you even real?” you chuckled, a bit amazed.

He returned your smile and squeezes your waist playfully.

The tense atmosphere shifted to something more relaxed.

“Well, you’re here, standing in my arms, that doesn’t feel real for you, dove?” He teased, giving you a small wink. That melted all of your doubts for now.

“So now that everything’s clear, maybe you should come in properly?” You looked at his watch, gently removing his one hand from your waist to look at it, which made him snort with a small laugh. “It’s not that late, honestly.”

“You think it’s a good idea? What about Molly? If she sees me, she might be in a slight shock.”

“She’s asleep. I read herThe Little Prince every night, and it gives her the sweetest dreams, so she’s probably in a really deep sleep right now.”

He considered your proposition for a moment, then nodded softly with a warm smile.

“Ok, just for a moment though. I have to go back to my place, you know?” He joked.

And then a moment turn into hours, and he found himself holding you on his chest, in your living room, snoring cutely, after a glasses of wine you insisted to share with him. You were tangled in a blanket which he eventually reached for, because you started to shiver a bit. As he was looking at you, he suddenly realised how quickly he become attached to you. And it scared him then, but now, it’s was something he could get used to.

He really saw himself every night with you in his arms, and that thing changed something in his mind, forever.

He wanted this to become truth, after years of being alone.

He finally felt happy.

taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy @belle-blue @lovelylupin04 @moonyanddaisies @harryslimebike @mooonyxoxo @lydipop @idohknow @ahead-fullofdreams @spirit-of-the-hollow @aheadfullofsteverogers

[ivorydragoness44]

Bucky Barnes x gn!Reader: Business Card

Word Count: 589 Warnings/Notes: (I have not seen Thunderbolts* yet, it’s not out yet, but I was inspired by an ad for it online) Established relationship, brief kiss, mention of an injury on Bucky’s face, brief cursing (no angst or aggression in it), and laundry. The Reader trying to come up with what to have on Bucky’s business card (artistic liberties were taken here for my own enjoyment) Summary: Bucky returns from his … adventure with the Thunderbolts*. Though he interrupts laundry day for the Reader, he seeks their help with an important business inquiry.

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

The weekend, though barely started, was rather lackluster. And from what articles and other news outlets that were making their way around a specifically coordinated algorithm, you were glad at the mundane that you had surrounded yourself with. Music played in your apartment, tunes of joy and occasional nostalgia, you sat on the couch. One heap of a batch of laundry to your left, and organized, folded piles to your right.

It was when you heard a key enter the lock on the front door that you paused. It could only be one person. But with how the world worked sometimes, you tensed in slight preparation. Just in case. When the door swung open and the singular person that you had been dreaming of reuniting with, you smiled brightly.

“Bucky!” You exclaimed, swatting a few pairs of socks off of your lap to stand. “Hey,” he smiled adoringly at you. There was hardly enough time for him to close and securely lock the door before you glommed onto him. “I missed you too,” he hummed, embracing you warmly. You pressed a kiss to his chin, his facial hair no longer poking you now that it had grown out. “Are you just visiting?” “Heh, I-uh,” his eyes peered everywhere but on you for a moment. “You can stay over if you want,” you suggested. “You know I don’t mind. There’s always a spare toothbrush or tow here for you.” “Thank you,” he smiled softly at you. “I think I’ll have to take you up on that.” “Good,” you perused your lips, “because I also see cuts on your face Mister Barnes”— “They’re healing,” he defended. “But I also had a favor to ask you, if you don’t mind.” “Sure.”

A small nervous laugh escaped when he gave a quick grin. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a small white card. Not necessarily wanting to release your hold on him, you hesitated before plucking the stationery out of his hand. “Oh,” you viewed it in surprise, “this is your own business card.” “Yeah, I was hoping that maybe you could help me to make it look…” “Cleaner?” He frowned. “Someone already thought that I was handing them trash.” “Oh! No, no,” your eyebrows jumped to your hairline. “That’s not what I meant. Just cleaner in the sense of it’s layout…how it’s organized on the card.” “Oh.” “Did someone really think that you were giving them trash? Have they never exchanged business cards before?” Bucky shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.” His hands slid slowly up and down your back as you continued to inspect the card in your grasp. “So what do you think?”

“Bucky Barnes, former assassin, current heartthrob.” “I think that gives the wrong impression.” “Yeah. Hmm…,” you pondered humorously on your way to something actually helpful. “Bucky Barnes, I’ll lend a—oh, wait. Never-mind. Scratch that.” “I won’t hold it against you,” he assured, giving your frame a slight squeeze. “Bucky Barnes, call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me”— “I have a feeling that I’m missing a reference,” his brows furrowed in thought. “A little, but it’s okay,” you pecked his lips with your own. “How about…Bucky Barnes…ex assassin for hire when you’re in dire…” “Maybe less slogans, and more simple?” “Bucky Barnes, I kick ass,” you offered with no ounce of humor in your expression. “Closer,” he nodded with a hearty laugh.

“We’re gonna be here a while, I hope you know that.” “Don’t worry, I’m committed.”

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

Thank you for reading!

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

Oh that RBB/SBB post you reblogged makes me so sad 😔 I know it’s been a long time since the start of 1D but I really hope Louis is okay. It’s almost like Louis’ campiness/flamboyance has been masked over time while Harry has fully embraced that side of himself (which I LOVE!!) but I’m still just sad about Louis. I wish we could have seen him blossom like Harry in that way.

Of course this is all just speculation. Maybe Louis’ current outward public appearance/behaviour is exactly who he is now and/or how he wants to be perceived in the world. It’s probably not just black and white.

Oh, anon, I'm extending a warm hug to you 🥺🫂💖 and huge same; it massively tore at my queer little heartstrings to read that post.

It was so incredibly insightful and well-written and these parts were so painful:

"We can’t know why consciously camp Louis shined so briefly [...]. But I believe (I think it’s a reasonably common belief) that somewhere between auditioning on X-Factor with a girlfriend and the UK media blitz of autumn 2011, Louis Tomlinson became someone who was quite comfortable with being seen as gay. I’d go further and say that part of this was embracing the conscious, coded, queerness of camp British culture. [...]

But he only got the briefest window to share that part of himself. It was one of the first things that got taken away, [...]   There’s a huge sad irony there – that this code, that was developed specifically so that gay men could be visible in a time when they were completely marginalised, was taken away from a young gay man, because it was too gay, in a supposedly more liberal time. [...] The bears' elaborate queer codes are tucked away from the stage. Because their owners cannot (yet) be visible in the way that the people they put in frames have been."

I'm not nearly as eloquent as the author of that post, @dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram, but I will try. -- To what you wrote, dear anon, I want to say you are so valid!

I think the process and inner workings over the last 14 years were very complex and we only have crumbs of puzzle pieces here and there, so that leaves room for a lot of speculation. (which can be maddening sometimes, but also good to ponder different perspectives).

The second they were put into 1D together, they were supposed to make many people a fuckton of money. I cannot even begin to fathom the immense pressure they were under; during and also post-1D. at least they had each other as support, as well as the other 3 boys and a few close friends and family, yet ultimately it was always them who were going to be the most impacted. At least they could go through it together.

(side note: can you imagine the gigantic strain all of the closeting and stunts must've been on their relationship? and they still came out on top! that's a huge testament to their communication and commitment to each other. 🥹💙💚)

I always felt it remarkable how differently the angles of closeting were approached, certainly because of Harry's and Louis' different marketed images, but perhaps also because they are different characters who come from different backgrounds and maybe also because of their relationship dynamic and slight age difference (which is always a bit more remarkable during the teenage years they were in at the beginning).

Ultimately I can only guess why exactly it was Louis who was the one to always verbally respond or make a statement about Larry; why it was only Louis' Twitter account who was used for the denials; why it was Louis who never touched a rainbow flag during a 1D show, not even after Harry had started in 2015 -- all this while Lou did and said a LOT of stuff that clearly showed who he really is, who he's in love and in a steady longtime relationship with; all this while RBB and SBB spoke to us so clearly it sometimes still feels like a fever dream.

I can only speculate, but -- when it comes to their closeting, I think the sad reality is that Harry and Louis were never truly set up to benefit from deals that were struck. While I can imagine it was even sold to them as a positive thing at first; a white lie, a protection of their privacy perhaps, etc, they were both so young when they entered into those probable agreements (even while I hope they both had some kind of legal representation!), it was still ultimately their own choice to say yes or no, but in an industry where you are still a near-nobody and you get the offer of a lifetime plus there's the career fate of three other boys on your shoulders as well, that "choice" becomes an illusion. the power-imbalances were just too great.

As written in the OP's post, in 2011 "Louis [...] became someone who was quite comfortable with being seen as gay. I’d go further and say that part of this was embracing the conscious, coded, queerness of camp British culture.", but then it "[...] was one of the first things that got taken away.", because it was still considered "too gay".

And I think if someone hasn't lived it, they can't imagine the toll it takes on an impressionable teenage mind when they are told again and again that their sexuality and relationship are a liability, a danger, something better kept under wraps, something that the public will not accept or endorse; something that might or will ultimately ruin things for them and the other boys. Maybe those things were ever said out loud or bluntly, maybe they were expressed in more cunning ways, but those things are simply everything a forced closet implies.

What was done to them was manipulation of the most sinister kind, of this I am sure. I remember Harry saying often in recent years how scared he was back then to "make a mistake" and mess things up for the other boys. (I think we can all imagine what he meant by that) And how he recounted crying in disbelief and relief when he finally signed his new contract after they announced the hiatus. Him covering up his "Things I can't" tattoo with an eagle (which is a symbol for freedom) in Dec 2015 (1 month before the start of the hiatus) feels pretty significant to me, too.

Still, it takes years to unlearn and re-learn certain conditioning and I want to make it a point to say the closet is never the fault of the closeted person. I can only speculate, but it seems to me that parts of that conditioning and a closeting mindset still live inside of the choices that are being made for their respective careers. Holivia, Elk and babygate-still-not-ended are three of the most glaring examples. Without insight, it's hard for me to gauge reasoning, though, so I will leave these topics at this.

Also Louis apparently got the short end of the stick post-1D, with him still(?) being blacklisted by the powers that be (*clenches fist* fucking SC). But I cannot say much more to that, because I haven't caught up enough on it, yet. To me personally it always felt like SC tried to keep an iron fist especially on Louis and I can only hypothesise why. Maybe Louis was always most defiant to SC verbally, behind closed doors? Maybe it's got to do with SC's own suspected closeting? Maybe Louis had to make some sort of deal with him years ago? I shudder to even think about why SC is still "allowed" to insert himself into the boys' business so much (as evidently last seen at Liam's funeral). He's such a powerful asshole.

But back to Harry and Louis -- they do (to this day) present themselves differently to the general public in regards to their sexuality and relationship -and I share your feelings, anon, of wishing that things would've gone differently for Louis. 🥺 I think this is a very valid wish to have; for the people you admire to be as free and happy and seen as possible. For them to gain their full freedom and happiness on their own terms. For them to get to be their most authentic selves (*Louis voice* "Flamboyant!"). And eventually, maybe, for them to get to come out together (because if they do, I personally don't think they'd want to do it separately), if ever / whenever they want to and ideally, with a level of publicity they chose. Their potential coming out is a very multi-facetted discussion that I'm too sleepy to get further into, though.

To conclude my too-long-answer (sorry!!) -- I am still catching up on the past 6 years of Harry and Louis, but from what I have seen of the recent years, I have a feeling Louis does feel very seen..

..and that he's responding the most that he currently can / is comfortable with 🥹🏳️‍🌈

(melting at this decor of Louis' tourbus in 2022: another bear with a Louis smiley rainbow flag 🥹🧸🏳️‍🌈) (source post)

And I feel the same way about Harry. ("Feelin' myself. 😌🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️")

Harry and Louis have both been brave -- together and individually - in so many ways over the last 14 years. It left them at different points in their public images and just like you, anon, I sometimes ask myself "Maybe Louis’ current outward public appearance/behaviour is exactly who he is now and/or how he wants to be perceived in the world." - it's not impossible. It's all a journey, for every member of our community. And Louis and Harry are still on it and have not reached the final destination, yet.

Harry's taken a more public road in 2015 than Louis was allowed to do and from the way Louis looked at Harry while he was bounding across the stage with the flags every night, he loved seeing his boy like that and likely silently cheered for him; knew Harry was doing it for him also. After all, they are a package deal est. 2010.

I'm secure in my belief that we will one day see Louis feel ready to pick up a rainbow flag on stage; that he'll raise it and lift a middle finger to everyone who ever doubted; that he'll let that flag hang from his mic stand for himself and Harry and all of us who always support him; who see him -- now and also back in the earliest days, where a 19 year old very camp Louis adopted British gay code for himself and happily sung his heart out at the G-A-Y next to the boy he's in love with.

I believe Louis when he says the last 2 years were incredibly happy for him. And despite it being an awful and tough time (for Harry, Zayn) and him right now, he's also said something he's always had and always will have is resilience. I hope he takes all the time he needs. Luckily, Harry and him have each other in this, too. Also I can imagine that Liam's sudden passing might have shifted their perspectives on a few things, as well.. so we will see.

I definitely can't wait to see Louis on tour again, when he gets to share himself exactly the way he's comfortable with 🥹

Then..

and now ✨

(gif credit 1 + gif credit 2, both by the amazing @delicatepointofview)

additional resources aka. two of my fave tags of all time to just spend time in: the Louis and rainbows and Harry and rainbows tag and this post of Louis using Polari ("a secret language gay men used popularly in the 50s to communicate with each other in England [...] commonly used until the 90s") all by the wonderful @daisiesonafield-blog

thank you for the kind message 💖 x

[beeandthescreen]

I love Amara! I'm dying to know how she'd (as a character that struggles with being more than a killer/tool and experiences new emotions and roles on earth) views grey morality especially after the Mark vs Cecil argument?

Does she feel a connection to Cecil's views on defending earth by any means necessary even if it makes you cut throat? Does she even know it happens?

Also curious to know who she met on earth first? Did Mark get sent up to intercede before she landed? Or did Cecil transport himself to her landing site like he did with Nolan?

Also her hair cut??? Iconic

Okay, first off, I'm actually so grateful you love her?? Like?? My little Shayla is interesting to other people??? THANK YOU?? I'm so touched i'm like jumping in my seat ok ok, serious time.

Okay, a little context before I answer the actual question:

Amara, despite having the conscience to leave the empire, is essentially an empty cup.

She left at 19 when her chance to discover the universe—enslaving a planet of her own—was offered to her. As a result, she has less knowledge of the universe and its workings than her peers, who have spent long periods up close and intimate with other civilizations.

Yes, she has committed atrocities on several different worlds, but hasn't had the chance to know what an actual culture is or how people operate. Her training was purely kill, then leave. So you can say that up until she actually left, she's so fucking blind.

Also, she is the third youngest Viltrumite (twinning w Mark and Oliver.) so the knowledge gap is just... very large.

Imagine being raised in a horrible place, learning horrible things, with horrible people, having nobody your age around you, and nobody to have a real, meaningful conversation with.

The only reason she hasn't turned out like the rest is the only actual relationship that has ever mattered to her until her defection to the Coalition of Planets-- her mother.

Her mother haunts Amara's narrative. Her Debbie. The only reason Amara isn't an actual monster. (The Mark and Amara bond in my universe goes so fucking crazy and I will unpack that one day.) The only kind face, the only embrace, the only proof of joy and tenderness and love. That proof was enough for Amara to weather the storm.

Her desire for vengeance can only extend her knowledge so far.

That being said, authority figures are something so familiar to her.

She was raised as a thing-- they point and she shoots. There is a sad comfort she finds as a tool. She cannot shake that. She is aware her entire mindset and life experience is a problem, but pointing out each individual thing and analyzing what is wrong or right she cannot do. She is in limbo.

Now, that she is under Thaddeus' command, and Thaddeus is working against Viltrum, his wants and desires become her own. if he points at Earth and says go make nice with Earth and teach Mark how to fight, she will do both to the best of her ability.

When she arrives (Between Season 2 and 3) she is still within this mindset, and has not had enough life experience to form her own solid opinion. Therefore, she falls back on her orders.

You are an emissary. Appease the leaders of Earth. Strengthen its ties to the Coalition.

You need to ready Mark for war.

I think she would not even be focusing on the essence of the conflict at this time. She would be playing meditator as best as she can. She is not going to condemn Cecil, that would not appease him. She is not going to stop Mark, she needs him.

I think she would definitely try and stop the whole Mark and Cecil confrontation because it would but a hindrance on the mission, but deep down, her baby conscience is starting to try and ponder on why these men are acting the way they are.

Aren't they on the same side?

Oh Mar Mar, being introduced to individuality and differing mindsets. One day, you will understand.

Also! She Meets Mark first! Thaddeus makes the mistake of letting Allen take charge in directing her where to go, and how to go about introducing herself-- the man who can barely read. He also doesn't know that she is a Viltrumite, and the GDA has definitely set up bio scanners to see if any enter the atmosphere.

Cue, I'm entering the atmosphere, let me look at my watch to see where I'm going, oh, someone is literally gunning it toward me and isn't stopping, okay It looks like I'm going to be attacked.

They have a skirmish. Mark doesn't let up until Amara mentions Allen's name, cause she's a smart cookie. Mark has to call off the hammer being brought down. Then, she meets Cecil and is shoved in a huge ass van with the biggest fucking convoy following behind.

Hooray!

AND HER HAIR! Oh everyone loves her hair. I am so glad for it because it is like, my favorite feature of hers-- that and her boba eyes.

I love u :<

[privatebooth]

In Mark of the Assassin DLC Fenris grumbles about Hawke putting himself at risk and then openly talks about how frightened he was by the possibility of loosing him.

So, the logical conclusion...

After completing MotA Hawke finds Fenris brooding by himself.

In his usual cheerful manner he inquires if something is wrong. Fenris ponders for a moment, and then replies that yes, something is bothering him.

He explains that he's been thinking about some of Hawke's words.

When they got back together Hawke told Fenris

"You are mine as much as I am yours" But if that is so, why is Hawke so casual about putting himself - something of Fenris's that he treasures - in danger. If Hawke really considers himself Fenris's shouldn't he be more mindful about his own wellbeing? He points out that as things are now it feels like Hawke sees himself as his own person and doesn't seem to consider how his reckless behaviour affects Fenris.

Suppose Fenris also could elaborate on how great his fear of loosing Hawke was. After all those years alone he finally has that sense of belonging he craved so much, and now that he had a real taste of it the idea of loosing it is paralyzingly terrifying.

This takes place between "Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you" and "I can't bear the thought of living without you", so Hawke has not yet fully realized the intensity of Fen's feelings.

Hawke is at a loss. Everything worked out fine that time, they solved all problems and saved many people... But Fenris has a point. Hawke really acted on his own without a second thought. What if something had gone wrong? He never seriously considered that.

He was so used to always being the frontline for any trouble, being the one who deals with any issue...

Hawke needs to understand that them being a couple doesn't only mean that they get to smash heads together and fight side by side and have each other's back (they've been doing that for years), but that they must always be there for each other. Like, alive.

Hawke apologizes to Fenris and admits to not having thought it through. He explains that their relationship and the status of a no-longer-his-own-man is fairly new to him. Loosing most of his family also may have made him somewhat careless about his own safety.

It will take some getting used to, but he promises to change, now that they are committed to each other.

Still, he makes sure to tell Fenris that his heart belongs to him entirely.

And some time after this conversation Hawke gives Fenris the family ring!

Maker, the way they actually talk to each other and discuss things (in canon!) makes me feral.