#would absolutely yell at me for watching this show and wanting to read these books now

[electricmaimer]

"i dont care if people who havent read the books get spoiled for the show" <- words of a person i now want to bite and yell at

[phantasieandmirare]

I think part of deconstructing is being told at a very early age that His Dark Materials/Philip Pullman is the literal embodiment of evil and if you read the books or watched the original movie you had to Repent cause he’s an evil atheist and the books promote atheism and hate the church and that he hates CS Lewis and Narnia and you’re going to hell because you read these books and then you grow up and read the synopses/literary analysis of the stories and watch the show and 1) it’s really really frickin’ interesting and beautiful and fascinating and 2) not nearly as bad as you were told and led to believe and 3) the argument made is far more nuanced than the people who told you it was bad said it is and 4) now you have the box set of books on the way and 5) you really wish that you had a daemon yourself

[omgwhatchloe]

STUPID MODERN AU HEADCANONS ALERT

-they all have one hideout they stay at after too many of their apartments kept getting raided. its…its chaotic sometimes.

-bill snores so fucking loud and sleeps on the sofas. he DOES have a bed, he just ‘rests’ his eyes during whatever he’s watching, spreads out and snores like hell. its the most infuriating thing, and arthur does not hold back when beating him with a pillow.

-however if it was lenny or one of the girls who’d fallen asleep on the sofa, lets just say hes sneaking back into the house after late night adventures, and he finds them, arthur would absolutely cover them with a blanket or even carry them to bed depending on how tired he was.

-the men of the gang have differing opinions on drugs, strippers, etc. some will absolutely spend their money on that, others will never even consider it. you gotta remember, this is a gang and theyre criminals.

-movie nights are very random as theyre all constantly in and out, doing this and that, but it is nice when a group of them can settle down and watch something. but you know theyre getting interrupted constantly, because lenny thinks that doesnt make sense and johns hungry and sean thinks theyre hot and tilly cant decide if she wants some of the blanket or not and micah’s just walked in and decided the whole ordeal is very gay etc etc

-STREET RACING. sean, lenny, arthur, john, javier, karen, sadie, even abigail all love it, and it miiiight just be one of hosea’s guilty pleasures.

-leopold strauss does not like dutch’s music. imagine, theyre coming back from a job and he rides with dutch and hosea, who plays ‘old classics’ because dutch thinks thats what theyre into. cut to strauss staring longingly out of the window, watching arthurs car with the roof down and pitbull up. he is a very unhappy old man in that moment. he does NOT WANT to listen to big iron, HE WANTS TIMBER!!

-booktok is lenny’s biggest opp. he likes the classics and to wander around bookshops (sean trailing behind him and picking up random books on weeds and fitness to offer him because he doesnt actually know what theyre about) looking for his own books to read and get his own opinion on.

-sean can read, but does struggle with dyslexia and still dislikes books for this reason. he doesnt mind being read too, but feels overwhelmed and gets upset with himself when actually attempting to read.

-mary-beth loves to watch tv in her room only to fall asleep with it on, causing susan to poke her head around the door and yell at her to turn it off at like 3am. but trust me, the girls seen everything. every dating show, reality show, drama, documentary, she has seen it! she also has teddys/stuffed animals!!

-john never grew out of enjoying sleepovers, but thankfully neither did javier. they’d always get drunk and high together, do dumb shit, snuggle only to deny they did in the morning, and get yelled at to shut up. of course, john’d eventually get to have a sleepover every night with abigail, but he feels like its just not the same…

-charles WILL go to sleep in your car and you cant stop him. arthur finds it cute tho.

-the cupboards do not have snacks because everyone is too possessive over what they want and just keep it in their rooms.

-a lot of the time only a few people are having stew, since the rest are off getting fast food or just not eating.

-sean misses ireland so much, homesickness is a big problem for him (to the point he may actually be sick from upsetting himself so much) and he wishes him and his da never had to leave donegal. though obviously he struggles with booking flights and decides to just not do it instead of asking for help. for a perfect birthday present, lenny booked a trip for them!!

-seans da is not dead!! though he lives quite far from where the gang are staying (different state, not back in ireland) and sean misses him more than he likes to admit. the little irishboy loves to sit in his da’s house with a cup of tea, stealing all the biscuits and yapping on. he used to like to bring lenny too, when they were closer (in distance, not relationship)and his da decided he liked lenny more than sean, joking ofc.

[butterfliesornauseous]

Emeto this or that part two

(500 special 4/5)

Warning for emeto, mentions of medication, not eating, over eating, alcohol

Feel free to use or send me a number :)

emeto this or that part 1

1. Everything coming way in a powerful wave or lots of gagging and spitting up saliva?

2. Gagging on trying to sallow a pill or gagging on a thermometer?

3. Nausea from side effects of medication or nausea from medication withdrawals?

4. Queasy burps or queasy hiccups?

5. Caretaker gently doing a small braid in a sickie’s hair or throwing their hair in the messiest ponytail because there’s no time?

6. “I thought you were getting better” or “I thought I was getting better”?

7. Sickie that’s concerned about getting caretaker sick or sickie who doesn’t care and wants all the love and care they can get?

8. “I want to throw up” or “I need to throw up”?

9. Sickie has a bad caretaker, caretaker that is angry or caretaker that completely ignores sickie?

10. ‘Hurl’ or ‘spew’?

11. Tender stomach muscles after vomiting or dehydration headache?

12. After vomiting, character is hungry and ready to fill their empty guy again or doesn’t want to even smell food for the next couple of days?

13. The character/s getting sick matters more, or the reason for being sick/tropes matter more?

14. Focus on the vomit itself, or focus on the vomiting noises?

15. Producing a lot of saliva before vomiting or throat going dry?

16. Sickie gets caretaker sick, are they more “I told you to stay away” or “I’m so sorry”?

17. Sick feeling tummy from a stuffed belly or nausea from not eating for a while?

18. ‘ Nauseous ’ or ‘Queasy?’

19. Sickie is stuck looking after themselves, absolute pro or absolute mess?

20. Chamomile or peppermint tea?

21. Sickie that begs for their tummy to be rubbed or sickie that would gag at even the slightest belly touch?

22. Embarrassed from throwing up in a doctor's office or embarrassed from missing the bin in a public area?

23. Caretaker has an extremely gross but effective nausea remedy or extremely gross but effective vomit inducer?

24. A formal sickie throws up during work, they suddenly fall apart for the first time in their lives and need care or keep it together?

25. ‘Midsection’ or ‘abdomen’?

26. Puking after getting yelled at or puking after getting told devastating news?

27. ‘Upset tummy’ or ‘Unsettled tummy’?

28. Gagging or heaving?

29. Feeling sick from eating/drinking too much in tight clothes, or already being bloated and feeling sick because sickie forced themselves into tight clothes?

30. Sickie has been hovering over the toilet for ages with no relief, they press down on their own tummy to vomit or caretaker presses down?

31. ‘Twisting’ or ‘turning’ to describe nausea?

32. Kneeling in front of the toilet or crouching in front of the toilet?

33. Hand on the stomach or arm wrapped around the stomach?

34. First time drinker throwing up from the taste of alcohol being way too strong or experienced drinker is proud they have never vomited from drinking but gets cocky one night?

35. Gagging from watching a gross video, or gagging from tasting something gross?

36. Indigestion or intolerance?

37. Accidentally squeezing a queasy belly too hard, or accidentally knocking into a queasy belly?

38. Body language cues (holding stomach, hand near mouth) or sound cues (frequent burping, tummy noises)?

39. ‘ Stomach flu’or ‘stomach bug’?

40. Sickie is extremely nauseous before a massive event, they throw up beforehand and do amazing or do okay during the event and throw up once it’s all over?

41. Feeling sick from physical pain or mental pain?

42. Vomiting on the first date or vomiting before proposing/ getting proposed to?

43. Watching your character hurling in a tv show/ movie or reading about your favourite character hurling in a book?

44. Vomit seeping through a sickie’s fingers when coving their mouth or the vomit pushes their hand away and splats on the floor?

45. ‘Bile’ or ‘stomach contents’?

[rishiimaa]

HI HI! I was the person who requested the “jjk with a child who’s tooth was growing or lost a tooth” which was 😮‍💨🤌. Then I had another thought where jjk characters child/children first start crawling/walking 🤔(I’m having a baby fever rn) please lmk if these requests are bothering you 😭😭

Nope! Requests’ll never bother me, and if they do, it’s not your fault, I’d just turn the requests off, so please, do more requests! I love it when people give me attention anyways!

Anywho… onto the fanfic!

Fluff

Yuji, Megumi, Gojo, Geto

Yuji

——————————————————————

Yuji would be the reason your son walk, he’d be watching football and cheering on, and he’d feel a bump on his leg, only to find out his son was standing!

——————————————————————————————

“Wh— God damn it! How do you fucking fumble that?!” Yuji yelled at the top of his lungs, earning a glare at you from the kitchen.

“Watch your mouth in front of C/N and stop yelling, I don’t want his first words to be that.” you narrowed your eyes at Yuji, easily making him shrink in size as he scratches his neck.

“Sorry, babe, it’s just I can’t understand why my team is fumbling so many balls! Especially the easier ones…I could totally catch that…”

You roll your eyes before getting back to your cooking, and you let out a breathy laugh, it was absolutely impossible to stay mad at Yuji, he’s just too sweet for his own good…so sweet that you even feel bad for scolding him.

Yuji laid back onto the couch in a pout, this game was totally scripted…all these years of rooting this stupid team just to lose again…so annoying.

While Yuji was having his temper tantrum, C/N, required his father’s attention, he tried reaching for him, throwing toys, making random babble noises, and even throwing toys at him! (Which never really makes it that far…But it’s worth a try!)

But nothing gained Yuji’s attention, his focus was on the game and only the game, which made C/N mad.

Suddenly…C/N made an attempt to stand by himself, by placing his feet on the floor and allowing to push himself up, just like his daddy does!

C/N began to finally wobble towards Yuji, slowly, but surely, C/N made it to Yuji’s leg, and began to punch it softly, this caught his attention, so when he looks down to his knees, he saw a very close standing wide-eyed C/N.

The silence grew…and both stared at eachother for a while, before Yuji finally realized what was going on.

“HOLY SHIT—!”

“Yuji!”

Megumi

——————————————————————

When C/N finally learns how to crawl, it took everything in Megumi not to cry, because if he did, he’d never hear the end of it from you…of course he ends up crying anyway…

——————————————————————————————

It was a normal day with the family, since it was the weekend, everyone was off work…So the Fushiguro family was stuck at home, Megumi was reading a book, you were watching TV (and a bit of baby clothes shopping), and little C/N was just laying on her belly on a blanket on the floor full of toys.

You continued to show Megumi the baby clothes you “scrolled” upon, but Megumi could never be irritated, he loved to hear you talk.

“Megumi! Look! This one has cute little sheep on it! You can also match with her—“

“Pass.”

Megumi groans, avoiding eye contact, you seethed at him with the sudden interruption.

“Pardon me? What gives you the right to say no to me? I pushed out C/N for two hours straight, and you can even match with her?”

Megumi groaned once again before pulling you on top his lap and giving you a light peck on your cheek.

“I meant with the sheep one, do the wolf one, that one’s cooler.” Megumi points at the screen, you let out a snort.

“What—“

“You’re so cute Megs, who knew i’d be married and have a baby with the cutest man in the world.”

“Could you not call me cute? That’s embarrassing…”

While you and Megumi were gushing, the ball that C/N was playing with rolled away, she tried to reach for it instead.

She made a sound, to alert her parents, but to no avail, no one responded. She pouted before lifting herself off the ground and deciding to crawl by herself to get the ball.

“Megumi, where’s C/N?”

Megumi looked over at the empty pile of blankets, both of you quickly went to your feet, but as you both stood up, you see a little C/N reaching for a small red ball.

You squealed with joy and you ran to your daughter and picked her up, simply out of pure excitement, you didn’t even let her finish crawling, but Megumi simply just stood there in silence.

then suddenly…you hear sniffs over your squealing, you look over at Megumi, covering his face, as the room fell silent.

“Megumi…Megumi are you crying over—“

“Shut up…”

Megumi said, wiping his tears but of course, knowing you, you didn’t shut up.

“Aww!! Look C/N, see how much your papa loves you? All those times he’s been mean doesn’t mean anything after all!” You tightly hug C/N, before she asks to be put down.

You put her down, when you do, C/B begins to crawl to her Papa, making happy baby noises as she reaches for Megumi for carrying. This definitely snaps Megumi as he lifts her up, hugging C/N once again with small sniffles sounding off…except this time it’s a bit louder…

You snap a picture, once again.

“I am definitely hanging this up.”

Gojo

——————————————————————

It takes Gojo so many attempts to get C/N to walk, and when she does…Hysterical, absolutely an abomination of tears and a camera roll full of pictures that he puts in his wallet.

——————————————————————

“Come on sweet pea…! I know you can do it! Walk to daddy, I got you!” Gojo said in a whiney tone, reaching out for his daughter, only for her to crawl to him and give him a sweet hug.

“It’s adorable that you did this, but I’d rather you’d walk…”

Gojo said sadly as C/N blew bubbles. He sighs of defeat before grabbing the remote and deciding to put it on spongebob, during that time it was C/N’s favorite show.

“Satoru, you know C/N’s not gonna walk when you ask her to, it’s gonna have to come natural.” You sigh, sitting on the couch after getting out the shower.

“I told you to let me get in the shower first! You take all the hot water!”

“Hm…well guess what, I’m a full grown woman! Should’ve been mature and went in yourself!”

Gojo pouts, before continuing to fidget with the spongebob plushy that C/N loves so much.

It makes sense that C/N would love spongebob, who wouldn’t, first of all, and second, her dad is Satoru Gojo, maybe it’s just genetic…

“Ugh…I can’t understand why you like this episode C/N, this one sucked.”

Gojo said, as if C/N could understand.

She acts like she does, because she looks at her dad and tilted her head, Gojo simply just looked at her with a pouty expression.

C/N furrowed her eyebrows, she took the insinuation that her dad was sad! And she couldn’t have that.

And so when Gojo wasn’t looking, she took the chance to walkover to him to comfort, with a little bit of struggling, she finally began to walk to her dad, you noticed this and pointed it out right away.

“Toru, Toru! Look! C/N in walking!” you pointed at C/N, but you always pull pranks on Gojo like this, so he simply tirelessly looked at her, not believing you at first

“Ohh yeah…and I’m the weakest man on—“ Gojo stops mid-sentence when he sees C/N slowly waddling towards him, in an instant, Gojo opens his arms so C/N could fall in them, she then places her chubby hand on Gojo’s cheek, and made a blabble that sounded like ‘there, there.’

You counted down from thee till the waterworks come…

Three

Two

one..

Sniff

hell yeah! right on queue!

i “You’re so adorable, C/N, I love you so much, never grow up and stay this age forever…” Gojo tightly holds C/N before he whips out his phone and takes a picture of his now standing daughter and a tearful Gojo.

Y/N thinks that those tears will never stop.

Geto

——————————————————————

Geto was obviously the calmest out of everyone in this list, but this time, you were the reason the twins walked, they were going through that phase when they only wanted their mother.

——————————————————————————————

Geto was currently giving both the twins a bath, he was struggling, as G/C/N was squirming around and is avoiding getting scrubbed, but of course B/C/N was being compliant.

“G/C/N…please…at least let me clean your butt, you literally just took a shit.” Geto sighed of defeat, you walked to the bathroom with a basket full of laundry.

“Any luck, Sugu?” You said, half-joking, Geto just shook his head and sighed

“G/C/N is refusing to take a wash…the most she’s done was get in the water” Geto almost lets out a whine. Before you let out a chuckle.

“It’s okay, Sugu, G/C/N is just stubborn like that, I’ll put your clothes in the washer, ‘kay?”

Geto gave a sound of approval, before trying again with G/C/N, she dodges the wash cloth once again while B/C/N was playing with a toy boat.

B/CN accidentally threw the toy out of the bath (don’t ask how), causing him to whine, Geto sighs, getting up to go and get the boat.

G/C/N took this opportunity to make a run for it after seeing her mom walk by, she crawled out of the tub, and stood on her feet, her naked body standing proudly, B/C/N said a “woah” noise, following his sister, just a bit more clumsily.

As if it wasn’t their first time walking, they both dashed out of the bathroom, following their mother.

“What the hell—? Y/N! Catch the twins! They’re making a run for it!”

Geto said in a panic, it would be easy to catch up to them, but they were small, so it was hard to grab them.

“Making a run for it—on my goddd!!” You said in a panic, running over at the door of the laundry the laundry room as both naked twins jumped on their mother laughing out loud, Geto sighed a breath of relief when he finally makes it to the twins, he couldn’t chose between being happy that they finally walked, or he should be pissed that not only did they wet the carpets, but they ran around the house naked.

“Well…who knew this’ll be their first walk…”

Geto ran his hand through his soft locks, sighing as he bent down to their level.

“Sugu, it seems they won’t take one unless I’m there, how about we all just take a bath together?”

[maximoffgxrl]

hi i’m not sure if you still take requests but would if you ever have time a yelena belova x reader (platonic) with lots of cuddling and kisses? just a whole ton of fluff and it doesn’t need to be too long? if you can’t/don’t want to do it that’s totally fine but i have such a soft spot for sweet yelena <3

Home {Yelena Belova}

Pairing: Yelena x gn!reader (platonic)

Summary: Yelena arrives from a mission and all she really wants is you

Note: yelena is the best i swear <3 hope you like it! this request has been sitting on my drafts for months, but now it’s finally here!!! so, enjoy 💕

You sighed as you flipped another page on your book, a pink highlighter on your hand and a bunch of loose pages resting in your lap. Were you studying on a friday night again? Yes. Sure, you had promised to yourself that this kind of nerdy behaviour would be left behind in high school, but who could blame you? It's not like you had anything else to do and you actually enjoyed studying.

- Oh, absolutely not. - a familiar voice with a thick accent sounded behing you and you smiled.

- Hey, Yelena. - you turned your head towards the voice, seeing the blonde girl climbing out the window. - Nice to see you're home again. And still unable to use the door.

- I already told you, sometimes I need to climb the window so I can make sure that no one else can climb the window. It is science. Just like your book. - she said, taking off her shoes and coat, her cheeks red from the cold weather. - Now, what are you doing reading a book? When I left, a whole week ago, you were doing that exact same thing.

- Well, I have to. It’s called studying. And if it helps, it was a different book last week. - you answered, watching as the blonde went straight for the kitchen. - But I wanna know about you. Your super secret mission went well? Where were you, after all? Now you can tell me, right?

- Bolivia. And yes, it went well. No one blew me up and it was not for lack of trying. - she said, frowning at the refrigerator. - Now, tell me, Y/N, this studying of yours does not require eating? There’s nothing in here.

- I was planning on ordering something later and I didn’t know you were coming home today. - you said, finally closing the book and resting your head against the armchair. - What do you mean they were trying to blow you up? Are you okay?

- Peachy. - Yelena said, sitting on the sofa. - I wasn’t even shot this time. It’s a big win.

- I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this. - you glanced at her with your eyes a little widened. You still remembered when, a year ago, Yelena showed up holding your announcement and asking if you were the one looking for a roommate. At the time, you didn’t knew you were getting a best friend and a giant headache all in one person. - You know, every time you leave I get worried sick.

- That is very sweet, Y/N Y/L/N, but you don’t have to worry. I am the best, so yeah, no danger here. - she smiled and you held back a laugh. Yelena could be so unintentionally conceited sometimes. - Now, will you please stop with the books, order some pizza and watch a movie with me? I missed you a lot.

- Own, Lena, I missed you too! - your heart melted at the russian’s words, smiling at her. - I’ll just bring this stuff to my room and then we can watch anything you’d like, okay?

She agreed with her head and you piled up all your books, papers and pens and carried them to your room, leaving it all on your desk. Fishing a blanket out of your closet, you picked up your phone and went back to the living room, sitting comfortably in the armchair again as you dialed the number of the pizza place you guys always ordered from.

- The pizza will be here in 40 minutes! - you yelled to make sure Yelena would hear you and went back to your phone, waiting for the girl to come back.

A few minutes later, she showed up in sweatpants and a My Little Pony white t-shirt, her hair wet and carrying a sweet lavender smell. She used your shampoo, but you didn’t really care, just watching as she practically fell onto the couch, resting her head against the pillows.

- So, what are we watching? - you asked, toying with the remote.

- Can we watch the one with the sirens again? You know, the one with the song that was stuck in my head for like a month? - she asked with big puppy eyes.

- Barbie A Mermaid Tale? - you asked with a laugh. Yelena was a big Barbie fan, but she specifically loved this one. - I think we’ve seen this at least five times.

- Please? It’s my favorite! - she pleaded, holding her hands together. - I love the evil fish.

- Okay, okay. But I’ll choose the next one.

- YES! - she exclaimed in pure delight, making you laugh again. If there was something you loved about Yelena, was her almost childlike joy about the little things in life. It was adorable.

You were about to press play when she cleared her throat, making you look in her direction only to find her already staring at you, brows furrowed.

- What? - you asked, a little confused.

- Aren’t you forgetting something? - she asked, rolling her eyes at your absolutely lack of perception. - Cuddling, Y/N Y/L/N, you’re forgetting the most important part of a movie marathon. Get your ass on this couch right now.

You couldn’t help but smile as you got up, laying beside the blonde on the couch and throwing your blanket over the two of you. It wasn’t long until Yelena’s arm was around your waist and the russian’s cheek was resting against your head. You hummed in contentment, feeling relaxed and warm and safe, like you always were with her.

- Now you can start. - she said simply as she placed a kiss against your forehead, making your heart melt all over again.

- It’s nice to have you home. - you said softly, grabbing the blonde’s hand and kissing her knuckles. - You know I love you, right?

- Yeah, you big softie, I love you too. - she said rolling her eyes as she kissed your cheek. - Now shush, my movie is starting.

You just smiled, too enthralled in the feeling of being in Yelena’s arms. She was home now, and it was all that mattered. After all, she was your home.

[tomatoland]

Top's wounded inner child and TopMew's (play)dates

Top has a wounded inner child. He may look like a grown man on the outside, but inside, he is stuck here.

Top's reaction to freeze or go silent when emotions are high is very likely due to his fire trauma. When Mew yells at him, I thought Top very much looked like a child being yelled at by a parent. The way he avoids eye contact and bows his head. He feels indignation when Mew asks him if he and Boston planned this together, but he's unable to verbalize anything.

I wonder if his parents blamed him for the fire because it is very much reading as someone in Top's life expressed disappointment or blamed him at a critical time. Twice, Mew has asked Top for a reason why he slept with Boston and he can't say and again when Cheum asks, he can't say.

As I'm all about pattern recognition, the show is setting us up for this to be a conversation TopMew are going to have btw.

Top does take responsibility for his actions though. I initially thought that this was a positive sign of maturity, but it can also be a sign that Top had to take on too much responsibility at too young of an age. He does what he's expected to do, which is apologize, but he can't offer any further explanation.

What we know of Top's childhood is that he was neglected by his parents because they are always too busy working or socializing and he was alone when the fire happened. The responsibility of a household is so much to take on when you're so young and to deal with a crisis alone, no child should EVER have to do that. Parents are supposed to be there to protect their children, give them space to just be a kid and Top didn't have that.

Now, I want to talk about how TopMew's dates are actually helping Top heal his inner child.

TopMew's dates are all about introducing Mew to new experiences for TopMew both to experience together, but notice how they are all very playful.

They eat ice cream together, they go to the bookstore and share different parts of books with each other, they go bike riding, they even have sleepovers where nothing sexual happens, they play laser tag, hide-and-seek, dance like nobody's watching, sing out loud badly, drink neon green apple sodas together, and Mew keeps Top company while he sketches (draws).

Top's inner child holds all these heavy emotions from the fire incident, probably to the point that he can't remember good times he had as a child because he has spent an exorbitant amount of time here, fixating on that one moment. The result of which is years of insomnia, dependence on sleeping pills, a crippling fear of dying alone, and a fear of sleep.

I don't think Top & Mew did this consciously, but isn't it just absolutely perfect that is what their playdates (because that's what they are, aren't they?) are doing, giving Top a chance for him to connect to his inner child in a more lighthearted way than he usually does and just play.

“Three things strike me about inner child work: the speed with which people change when they do this work; the depth of that change, and the power and creativity that result when wounds from the past are healed.”

This space to reconnect to his inner child is what is helping Top move past the self-sabotaging behaviors and unhealthy coping mechanisms from before. Past Top would have called up Beam, Past Top would've fallen for Boston's manipulation. Before Mew, Top had a string of short-term relationships and now, he's thinking beyond three months.

The change in Top isn't because of Mew because even without Mew's presence, Top doesn't succumb to his old behaviors. This indicates that the change that may have started because of Mew, is now in Top. Being with Mew is what gave Top the opportunity to reconnect with and work on healing his inner child that now he wants to move past the things that were holding him in place.

This does bring up a really important fact though, change that is contingent on another person is not stable. Change must start with the individual if there is any chance for long-term sustainability. Maybe I'll be wrong and Top will self-destruct in the next episode, but he hasn't yet. He's still trying.

good article if you’re interested & cr for quote

[asexualbookbird]

insert Imagine Dragons Radioactive Gasp Here

Hi. Coming up for air. I'm surrounded by yarn ends and fabric scraps I'm sweaty and covered in paint. I was a tiny bit productive this July! Made lots of progress on the Irish Lullaby Blanket, painted our balcony, started a few projects I really shouldn't have, and oh yeah! READ EIGHT BOOKS?? Who am I. I'm twelve books ahead of schedule according to goodreads, eleven by StoryGraph standards. It's wild. It helps that my library is holding an adult summer reading bingo contest and I fully intend to fill out the entire board.

The City We Became by NK Jemisin ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- WAOW. I initially rated this four stars, but sitting on it and coming back to it now, it was absolutely a five star read. I would love to reread it, the world was intriguing, and the AUDIO NARRATOR WAS STUNNING! I do try not to judge the contents of a book by it's narrator, but what a performance! When library bingo is over, I'm listening to book two ASAP.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Oh look! A Classic I actually enjoyed! I don't want to judge horror on whether or not I'm scared, because it IS kind of tough to get to me, but this was fun! I could see the spooks! Even if it wasn't spooky For Me, Personally, it was still a fun time!

The Butcher of the Forest by Premee Mohamed ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Oh. Ouchie. A shortie, but a goodie, I'm kicking myself for returning the ebook immediately because I would've liked to go back and reread bits of it if not ALL of it. A not exactly new take on fae, but an interesting one that I actually enjoyed.

Starling House by Alix E Harrow ⭐⭐⭐⭐- I did NOT intend to read this directly after Hill House but I am SO glad I did. THE PARALLELS!!!! The circular story!!!! THE STARLINGS!!!! I laughed, I cried, I yelled at Arthur, there were surprises I genuinely didn't expect, but made so much sense in hindsight. I don't exactly buy the romance, but I'll let it slide this one time.

Ghost Station by SA Barnes ⭐⭐- Two stars is Very Generous. And I'm sticking to it because the concept is still intriguing and if you squint there was some Leech stuff going on. Maybe I should just reread Leech. Sigh. Ophelia was hired to do ONE. JOB. To make sure none of the team members have Want To Murder Disease. And then Birch shows signs of Want To Murder Disease and she KEEPS IT QUIET BECAUSE *checks notes* HE KNOWS HER DAD HAD WANTS TO MURDER DISEASE. Everyone is stupid. They're scientists and everyone is fucking stupid. It wasn't scary, because EVERYONE WAS FUCKING STUPID. Biting all of them.

Thornhedge by T Kingfisher ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Oh T Kingfisher, you have never disappointed me, why do I read anything else. Another fun take on the fae! It's so hard to get me to like a fae book, so GOOD JOB KINGFISHER! I liked the new take on Girl Locked In A Tower, I liked that Toadling was surrounded by love and still encouraged to do what makes her happy. Again, I almost reread (listened. Whatever) this immediately just for funsies. Another banger from T Kingfisher.

The Sun and The Star by Rick Riordan and Mark Oshiro ⭐⭐⭐ - I've been waffling on this rating a LOT. Disclaimer that I haven't read any of Riordan's stuff since the OG Percy Jackson series, and that was ages ago so I can't compare this to that. This was a fun little book, but it felt a little heavy handed with the themes even for a middle grade. It doesn't make me want to read more, but I'm not mad I read it at all.

The Scapegracers by HA Clarke ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Okay. Listen. Look. Look at me. Was this The Perfect Book? No absolutely not. Was it a banger? Did I have fun? YES ABSOLUTELY YES! It's a book I could've needed in high school, but I wouldn't have been mature enough to appreciate it so I'm glad I have it NOW. Angry Queer Teen Girls will run the world. And I'm here for it. So looking forward to the rest of the series, I need to know what sort of mischief these girls get up to. I hope they curse another fuckboy. They deserve it.

BONUS! I also watched The Haunting of Hill House on netflix! One bingo square said "read a book then what the movie" and I really thought Mike Flanagan's Hill House was a movie but no it was ten (10) hours of spooky fucked up family dynamics. Also Nate Ford was there. Naturally. It was good! It was creepy! I wanna watch it again JUST FOR THE TREE HOUSE. I was skeptical when I first started because who the hell are you people (Steve, Shirley) but no it was fun! But also. Fuck Steven and Shirley. Congrats to Theo and moving in with her girlfriend of one week, peak lesbian stereotypes. Biggest complaint is with Mike Flanagan and his need to not only kill cats, but get close up shots of said dead cats. What's up with that my dude. What did cats ever do to you?

Plans for August (how am I saying that) are The Bone Season side by side comparison with the first edition and the tenth anniversary edition. I'm counting that as two books, I think, because it IS two books, and looking at them next to each other, there's a pretty sizable difference in page count! No clue about word count. This is part of book bingo (reread a book you didn't enjoy the first time), and this has helped me realise that I've been avoiding this for a Reason. I truly and surely did not enjoy The Bone Season and have no desire to experience that again. Don't know what to do with this information. So. I'm rereading it. Yay.

I have a few sewing projects I'm working on, and I am SO CLOSE to finishing the Irish Lullaby Blanket! It's exciting! So lets go!! Bring it on, August!!

[nerdforestgirl]

Note: Hey. It's fourteen years since the first appearance of Amy Farrah Fowler, or Fluff Crawlspace if you will. I wrote a thing. I hope you enjoy it. This is not Amy Farrah Fowler enough, but it's what I have. It's cute.

“Go, Leonard,” Sheldon yelled from his spot in the stands. He actually had no idea if his son was anywhere close to scoring, but he usually cheered the boy on any time he go close to the goal. Sheldon didn't understand much of the game beyond what he picked up from watching NHL games with Leonard (which was really playing on his phone while the game played in the background). It didn't really matter. Amy reminded him that he needed to at least try to take interest in his son's hobbies. This was him trying.

“Daddy, I'm cold,” a little voice said from beside him.

“Oh no,” Sheldon said playfully. This was a common complaint from his daughter. She was too used to the California sun to want to spend so many of her Saturdays at the ice rink. She was bundled up in a jacket and gloves, but sometimes they just weren't enough.

Sheldon took off his hockey jersey and pulled it on over his daughter's head and over her arms. It was comically large on her small frame, but it should help keep her warm. Still, he knew that he would probably be taking her to the snack stand for a cup of hot chocolate before the game was over.

Sheldon picked up his daughter and pulled her onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around her. This was more for him that for her. Without the jersey, he was a little cold himself. Still, his little girl leaned into his chest and looked back down at her book.

“What are you reading?” Sheldon said quietly into her ear.

“Mommy's favorite,” she said proudly as she showed him the cover. It was an ancient and beat up, but well loved copy of The Long Winter. Amy had gotten her old set of The Little House on the Prairie books from her own mother about a month ago, and had promptly handed them over as long as the little girl promised to take good care of them. So far, she had done an excellent job.

Sheldon couldn't believe how much he enjoyed watching his children become actual humans. It seemed like no time since they had both been little blobs that just drank milk, pooped, and slept all day. And yet, somehow they had both grown into real people with interests all their own.

Sometimes he could see the little pieces of himself and Amy in them. Other times, he could see Georgie, Missy, his mother, his father, Meemaw, Pop Pop, and even his uncle Stumpy once or twice. People his children had never even met had wormed their way in. And on occasion, that drove Sheldon absolutely crazy. Other times, he didn't mind so much. He loved all of those people for a reason, so it wasn't bad to see them show up in his children. Except for Leonard's inexplicable habit of saying “ain't” after one week with his Uncle Georgie.

“Daddy, can I have a snack?”

“She will ruin her dinner,” Amy reminded Sheldon without even looking away from the game. It was getting intense, but it was at the other goal, so Sheldon wasn't as invested. He knew he wouldn't miss a goal from Leonard.

“Come on. Just a hot chocolate?” Sheldon asked his wife. His daughter didn't ever have to try to convince her mother to do anything. She had Sheldon so wrapped around her little finger that he did it for her.

“One hot chocolate. And bring me one too,” Amy agreed. It was chilly in here after all.

“And maybe some popcorn,” Sheldon muttered.

“No,” Amy said.

“I can't hear you,” Sheldon said as he was already walking away. He heard everything his wife said, but he wanted to spoil the girl a little anyway. He realized that his hand was empty, so he turned back.

“Coming, Mary?” Sheldon asked as he reached out his hand toward her.

Sheldon's daughter ran to catch up to her father and placed her small hand in his. He knew there were a limited number of days left that she would be willing to hold his hand, and he would not let go until that day came.

[tieronecrush]

cool about it

joel miller x f!reader

(part II of water in your hands)

rating: E (18+ ONLY, MDNI)

word count: 14k (i'm sorry, please grab a snack or some water or read it in stages!!)

summary: I'm trying to be cool about it / Feelin' like an absolute fool about it / Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

You and Joel have been together secretly for months now, sneaking around behind his wife’s back. He hasn’t made a move to break it off with her, and at this point, you aren’t sure if he ever will. That is until he’s forced to face his problems, and you’re left with all the guilt.

warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, adultery/infidelity, marriage, age difference (joel is in his 50s, reader is 20s/30s), use of pet names, mentions of water/drowning, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), one instance of spitting/drooling, praising, undefined relationship turned committed relationship, slightly possessive joel & reader, alcohol use, ANGST, hurt/comfort, separation, degrading language (homewrecker, slut, mistress, etc.), self-deprecation/insecurity

series spotify playlist / apple music

a/n: thank you to everyone who requested a part 2!! i really love these two even though i make them suffer BUT i would LOOOVE to write some more little stories for them so drop any requests in my inbox! i don’t wanna say goodbye to them just yet :(

dividers from @saradika

It was a rare occurrence for your shift to line up with Joel’s. Lately, he’d be working early mornings or overnights, and you would be afternoons or evenings at the bar. Today, however, is a gift from the universe. He’d been assigned a handful of shifts that ended in the afternoon, and for some reason, Tommy scheduled you early to come deep clean and organize the back bar and stock room for the Tipsy Bison. Joel and you could see each other in the light of day, for maybe only the sixth or seventh time in the months that you have been sneaking around with each other.

He walks straight into the unlocked doors of the bar, an eager grin on the side of his face when he sees you. He beelines for you as you stand in front of the counter, wiping it down.

“Mmm, been thinkin’ about you my whole shift, sugar. Even got a little distracted with you on my mind - got yelled at to keep it moving at one point,” his voice is a little hoarse from booking it over here from the stables, slightly sweaty arms wrapping around your waist and flexing as they squeeze you tight and turn you around, “Was just itchin’ to get over here.”

His lips find that spot under your ear that sends goosebumps over your skin every time, a playful smirk pulling the corners of your mouth up. Your hands rest against the plaid flannel covering his arms, the added warmth necessary for the early spring weather. It reminds you of what he’d been wearing a year ago when he’d started settling into Jackson; sleeves rolled up to show off the delicious veins that bulge when he was working hard. The thought gets you a little light-headed and you take a quick breath to calm your racing mind.

“Well, can’t blame me for you being horny. Gotta keep it in your pants on patrol, sir.” Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes shine with a tease as you watch Joel’s eyebrows shoot up keenly at your statement and the polite title.

“I think I can blame you. ‘Specially when you’re the one calling me sir.” His eyes darken with hunger - and the knowledge that you’re going to be the one to satiate it. His arms loosen from their tight hold around your waist, large hands skimming down your back to grab at the cushion of your ass greedily.

“Did you only come to get something from me, Miller? I think I should be offended that you didn’t just want to visit me.”

“Oh, darlin’, y’know I came here to just get a glimpse of that pretty face to keep me going for the day. But then I got one look at you, and you just always do somethin’ to me. Can’t ever get enough of you.” His lips attach to the notch where your jaw meets your neck, teeth grazing skin as he works his mouth down to your collar. He hooks two fingers in your shirt there, pulling it back to reveal the blossoming purple mark that he had left the other night when the two of you were glued to each other in your bed. It was his parting gift as the sun rose, the usual warning sign for him to get back home.

“Can I give you another, sweet girl? Or maybe a couple? And you can wear one of those cute little tank tops next shift. Gotta let those gawking boys know you belong to someone.” His low, syrupy twang sends humidity across your exposed skin. Your head tilts back involuntarily, hands gripping his forearms that rest against your hips, his hands still palming your ass.

“You can give me as many as you want. Just wish I could you some.” Your gaze moves down to meet Joel’s eyes, the slightest pout on your face that pulls him away from your collarbone. He looks at you tenderly, one hand leaving your backside to brush your hair back from your face with care.

“I know, darlin’. I wish you could, too.” His thumb rubs against one of your cheekbones, and your eyes close to focus on the touch and feel the weight of his words. He still hasn’t told you those three words that you give him all the time, still never crossing that line.

The cool metal of his wedding band stings your face when he slips his hand down your cheek and along the nape of your neck as if the universe was sending you a quick reminder about who he was promised to.

“You wanna get out of here, sweet girl? We’ve got a few hours just to ourselves.” Your eyes open again at the sound of his voice, a soft smile spreading his lips as he speaks. He gets a mischievous glint in his eye, eyebrows wagging as his large hands slip into the back pockets of your jeans, giving one strong squeeze.

“Maybe we can have a little afternoon delight? Hmm?” He looks genuinely pleased with his cheeky suggestion, and you can’t help but chortle at the horny teenager energy he’s got.

“Play your cards right, Miller, and maybe you can have a little treat.” You wink at him, opening your mouth again to send another quip, only to be taken by surprise as he captures your lips in a fervent kiss. His tongue licks into your mouth, your front pressing tightly against his to the point where you can feel him half-hard against your thigh.

You pull away from the heated kiss, tsking quietly as you pull his hands off of you.

“We won’t ever make it out of here if you keep that up. And that isn’t ideal for either of us.”

Joel groans, the end of the sound hitching up into a soft whine.

“Fine, fine. You’re right. But I can’t fucking wait any longer. Been waiting all morning…” He trails off in thought, his eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Just come to mine. It’s closer.”

“Yeah, by only like 100 feet, Joel. And what if Heather’s home, hmm? How are you gonna explain your hard dick and me likely bent over whatever surface is closest to the front door?” Your arms cross over your front, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“She’s teaching today. She’ll be at school all afternoon. C’mon, it’ll be fine. Never get to have you in my bed.”

It’s not just your bed, you think to yourself. Your stomach turns a bit at the not-so-friendly reminder from your conscience. Your eyes flick down to the ring on his left hand, a sigh escaping as you study the shine of the metal before meeting his eyes once more. You could see the eagerness in them, the want. He wasn’t going to let it go, and you knew if you kept arguing it would end up with him propositioning that it’s either here in the bar or the privacy of his house.

“Okay. We’ll go to yours. But it’d better be a quick one.”

Joel smirks devilishly, hands grabbing at your body. He pulls you away from the counter, fishing out his house keys from the front pocket of his jeans.

“You’re gonna be changing that tune once I get you inside, darlin’. Gonna want to take your time.”

Decision made, Joel left out of the bar first to get a head start back home. Finishing up with your last tasks quickly, you closed up and started down your shared street, sending friendly waves to neighbors as you made your way. You came up with an excuse in your head as to why you were walking up to Joel’s door, just in case an overly curious bystander wanted to be nosy.

You send three quick knocks against the wood, peering in through the small glass windows in the door to see Joel making his way over from the kitchen. He grins sweetly when he opens the door, inviting you in. To an outsider, it all seemed to be a perfectly normal, neighborly exchange. Perhaps you were going to catch up over coffee or Joel was helping you out by getting you a tool to borrow.

Little do they know what he was really about to give you.

It was an awkward exchange at first, Joel stumbling around his words as he gave you a sort-of tour while leading you upstairs. You’d been in his house before, invited in by Ellie when she needed help with a gardening project for school and she’d come to you for advice based on the flora in your front lawn. You’d even been there when he and his wife were there, canoodling on the couch. It stung, seeing him laughing and holding her close. Nearly made you snap the pencil you were holding in your hand as you read over Ellie’s project plan.

But now you were here, alone, and he wanted you in his own bed. Their bed. Their literal marital bed.

It gave you a rush of anxiety as he pushed open the door to the room, turning towards you as you give the space a once over. You ignored the touches of her in the room — the throw pillows around the bed, the perfume on the dresser vanity, and clothes hanging slightly out of the hamper. Instead, you focus on the little details of him that you were finally privy to.

A novel on his nightstand, The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemmingway, the small ceramic dish that he now discards his wedding ring in, the owl mug that holds his morning coffee, smatterings of clothes around his side of the room. It all feels very comfortable, reminding you of pieces that you get of him in your own space. These touches of him give you a sense of home and safety; it all feels very Joel.

He pulls you out of your observations, your eyes meeting his lustful gaze. He towers over you, hands holding the sides of your jaw to tilt your head back. He slants his lips against yours, a light kiss turning salacious with want. Your hands find the waistband of his jeans, tugging lightly while his tongue dances with yours. Soft moans escape with the breaths you both take, and he peels away from your lips to pull your t-shirt over your head, mouth attacking your collarbone to leave more marks as he had promised earlier. Your head tilts, eyes opening for a split second when he bites a bit harder. His tongue soothes the nip, but you still feel the tinge of pain when your eyes lock onto the lacy panties haphazardly discarded near the hamper. You can’t look away, bile burning your throat as your mind gives you an image of the two of them together, of Joel enjoying anyone but you. The thought of those not belonging to you and being for him makes jealousy canker across your heart. A new determination is shocked through you - you want to give him a memory of you being the one pleasing him in this room, for him to think about whenever he has his wife in the same position. You wanted him to be moaning your name, praising you, being under your spell, even for a moment.

Pressing your hands against his strong chest, you push him back with a step. His head shoots up from your collar with surprise, a little smirk pulling at his lips. His eyebrows raise in question as you push him to the end of the bed, hands gripping his broad shoulders and maneuvering him to sit. Eager hands find your hips, grazing over to your ass as he looks up at you standing over him.

“Whatcha wanna do, baby? You wanna ride me, hmm?” His voice is lecherous, dripping with desire and satisfaction over you taking some control.

You shake your head at him, bending down in just your bra to pop open the button of his jeans and slide the zipper down as it strains against his bulge. He buries his face in the exposed skin of your breasts that are now eye level, humming contently.

He lets you work his jeans down to his mid-thighs, cock springing free. He still never bothered with underwear most of the time despite the slow, normal life he’d adjusted to in Jackson.

You keep eye contact as you kneel in front of him, his keen stare unblinking as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. You settle in front of him between his legs, hand wrapping around him and stroking slowly. He looked down at you with hooded eyes, mouth opening in a small gasp at the languid stimulation. A rush of saliva floods your mouth at the thought of tasting the beads of pre-cum that were starting to trickle out of his swelling length.

Giving into your bodily reactions, you lean in and press hot, open-mouthed kisses against the soft skin. Your thumb brushes against his tip, a hiss of pleasure sounding from above. One of Joel’s hands finds the back of your head, tangling fingers into your hair. He doesn’t move to guide you, simply wanting to touch a part of you.

Your free hand gently cups his balls as you press a featherlight kiss to the tip of his hard cock. A kitten-lick swipes up the dribbles of pre-cum that have collected and Joel’s fingers tense against your strands. You hum satisfied with the reactions you’re drawing from him, looking up to see splotches of redness growing across his cheeks and neck at the frustration. He groans out your name as your mouth works to tease him more, not having taken him fully in.

“Fucking hell, baby, quit teasin’.” Joel rasps as he watches your methodical seduction. He applies the smallest pressure against the back of your head when your lips finally wrap around just the tip of him, a moan of relief rolling from his chest.

Your eyes stay glued on his face, relishing in every response that he’s having to your mouth working him. Your head starts a slow bob up and down, growing wet at the weight of him on your tongue. You focus on half of him with your mouth, your hand working what isn’t inside. His noises grow louder and in quicker succession, his cheeks visibly warm and eyes dark with a craving when he looks down at you again.

“Such a sweet girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your little mouth. Think you can take more, baby? Think I can fit in your throat?” His words flood your panties, feeling the fabric stick uncomfortably against you. You shift in your position slightly, a sigh exhaling as your thighs rub together to relieve some of your ache.

The rhythm of your head brings his cock deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. You swallow around him and it squeezes him just right, a loud moan coming from him above you. He loses some of his composure, the large hand at the back of your head pushing him down your throat further and causing you to gag. Tears spill from your eyes and spit drips from the sides of your mouth, the blow job quickly turning sloppy as Joel takes more control.

“Fucking hell, darlin’. Taking me so well on your own, being such a good girl for me. You gonna let me fuck your mouth?”

The two of you are tunnel-visioned on each other, with no thoughts in your head except for getting Joel to come down your throat and no thoughts in his other than the sight of you taking his cock in your mouth. Had the two of you sensed anything happening in the house, it might have saved you.

Heather, Joel’s wife, returned home on her lunch break, hoping to run into her husband when she grabbed something to eat quickly. She heard the familiar timbre of Joel’s voice coming from upstairs, not making out any words at first. She climbed the stairs, the sound becoming clearer. Joel was definitely there, but he wasn’t alone. Wet sounds accompanied his pleasured moans, her ears perking up when she stands next to the closed door and hears him ask to fuck the mouth of whoever he’s with. Rage burns, the handle twisting and the door flying open. She’s greeted with you kneeling in front of Joel, his eyes trained on you with a lustful tenderness, mouth agape in awe.

The sound of the door smacking against the wall brings Joel’s attention away from the way you're taking the slow thrusts of his hips as he fucks your face. Immediately, he sees his wife standing in the doorway, shock, anger, and betrayal evident in her expression. His stomach rolls with anxiety, working quickly to push you off of him gently, tossing the throw blanket from the end of the bed in your direction to cover up. He scrambles to shove his still-hard dick back into his jeans and zips them up quickly, hands shamefully covering the bulge as he stands.

His mouth opens to try to excuse the pornographic sight that his wife’s just witnessed, but his brain is coming up empty. His eyes just shoot back and forth between the woman in the doorway wearing his ring and you, standing up from your knees with the blanket around your shoulders and a look of panic in your eyes. His hand twitches to reach for you, to comfort you, and his heart cracks at the glossiness in your eyes when you turn away from him.

The only sound to come is from his wife, her voice flat and resolute as she speaks directly to you.

“Please, get your shirt back on and go home.” She’s calm and resolute, with no malice in her voice as she demands you from her home. You oblige willingly and quickly, grabbing your top from the floor and slipping it over your head. You discard the blanket politely back on the bed, making eye contact with Joel one last burning time before turning to scurry out and back to your place across the street like a reprimanded child. Tears sting your eyes as you exit, the insides of you feeling like a storm at sea, uncertainty of what happens next for you and Joel thrashing around in your gut.

Back inside their shared home, Joel is still at the end of the bed. The situation has shriveled his arousal, the bulge in his jeans no more as his wife stares him down with indignance. She turns on her heel, a silent command for him to follow her as she makes her way downstairs. He climbs down the stairs petulantly, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for her to start screaming at him. He can’t find the energy to fight back if she does; he’d take it if it finally freed him of the mess that was his own creation.

Heather motions for him to sit in one of the wooden kitchen chairs; she leans back against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest. He plops down into the hard seat, a quiet sigh exhaled as he leans back, bracing himself for what is bound to ensue.

“Was this the first time?” Heather asks, voice steady, composed. Her eyes finally look at him, nothing given away from the empty stare in them.

He thinks about lying to spare her feelings, but the thought of continuing to suffer through sneaking around to be with you guides him into an honest answer. He’s going to give her the whole truth.

“No. No, this wasn’t the first time.”

“How long?”

He hesitates, the truth burning his throat as he prepares to confess that he’s never been a faithful husband, not when it came to you.

“Since the week after we got married.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel. Are you fucking kidding?”

He shakes his head, bowing it in shame as he continues his attempted repentance.

“I’m sorry. I know it probably means nothing to you, but I am sorry that I put you in this situation…We met when Ellie and I first stopped in Jackson to find Tommy. Before we went to, uh…I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But I didn’t think that I was good for her; I’m older, I have so much shit that I’ve done, and I didn’t think I could give her the life she wanted. When I came back, I tried to stay away. But when I saw her, I couldn’t help but be drawn to her. It was like a fucking magnet or gravitational pull. And well, eventually, I broke all my resolve. We slept together, out in the field behind the storage barn. I felt so fucking guilty afterward that I ignored her, for months. And, uh, I asked Tommy to set me up. Which is when I met you,” he interrupts his speech with a deep breath as he continues his full confessional, each sentence he speaks feeling like a brick being broken down from his walls.

“And I thought that if I made the decision to move on, to date, to get married, that we would both get over each other. I am so sorry that I did this to you. I just thought that you were a nice woman, you weren’t looking for anything really since you’d lived your life with your husband before. It was easy for me. Selfish, and easier than facing reality. But, when I went to check on her after she didn’t show up to work all week after we’d gotten married, we slept together again. And we kept meeting up in secret, having an affair. Have been for months.”

Heather continues her empty, faraway stare as she processes everything Joel’s just laid out in front of her. Silence falls over the room as he gives her time to formulate a response.

“Do you love her?”

That surprises him. Did she actually ask that? Is this the part where she screams and cries and shows her anger? His head shoots up from its hanging position and hands clasp together between his knees as he keeps eye contact with his wife across the room. He thinks back on all of the time you spent together and finally comes to admit what he’s known since that first conversation.

His voice breaks as he speaks, thick with the emotion that the first time he’s saying this is to the completely wrong person, “Yeah. I love her. With everything I have. I’d do anything for her.”

Heather nods shortly, arms uncrossing and dropping to her sides. She looks around the room, her brain working as she thinks about what to do.

“Okay. I’ll make it easy for you then. I’m leaving. We’re separating, since we were never legally married in the first place. If you can give me tonight, I’ll be out tomorrow. Just, I don’t know, ask Ellie to sleepover at Dina’s and spend the night at Tommy’s or at hers, I don’t really give a shit. Don’t come back until the morning, please.”

“I won’t. I’ll do whatever you need me to. I’m sorry again, Heather. I shouldn’t have made such a stupid, selfish decision.” Joel’s filled with genuine remorse, anguish flooding his gut about how to move forward from this.

She looks at him with pity, then her eyes move to the window in the direction of your house.

“It was selfish. And not just towards me.”

At that, she walks away from the kitchen and upstairs to start packing. Joel takes this as his moment to leave, wandering to go find Ellie to tell her to spend the night at Dina’s. He thinks about going to Tommy’s, to tell him everything even though Joel’s sure that he already knows. Instead, he continues to wander, not quite ready to face you and tell you what he’s been too foolish to admit to himself.

Taps sound softly against your front door, three quick and one lingering - Joel’s signature knock. The nerves tossing in your stomach ease at the thought of him being near again, only to wash right back when you open the door. It’s a split second that you see the heartache in his expression before he’s smiling with tender sympathy, but it sticks in your mind. Did he want to stay married that badly? Was this all just fun for him? Just an affair?

The thoughts tamper in your mind when he steps inside the entryway, brawny hands cupping your cheeks to study your eyes before they drop to your waist and wrap his arms around you in a secure embrace. His gentleness is enough to bring tears back to your eyes, some spilling over as he tucks his head into your neck and takes deep, shaky breaths. One of your hands caresses the back of his head, the other holding tightly to his bicep to keep him close. Nothing is said for minutes, the two of you standing there with the front door wide open.

It’s only when you hear his sniffle muffled against your neck, your immediate reaction is to hold him close and rasp out, “Oh, Joel…It’s okay. We’ll figure it out if you have to stay -- if it’s easier to…” You can’t bare to finish the sentence - if he had to stay with her, if he wanted to stay, you knew you couldn’t last.

He pulls out of the crook of your shoulder, glossy eyes meeting yours with deep contrite behind them. He shakes his head slowly, calloused fingers tracing along your jaw before cradling your cheek. You can see in his eyes the moment his heart breaks just a fraction more, and you’re convinced the next thing out of his mouth is going to be that he has to leave you, for good.

“Darlin’, no. That’s not why - I’m not - Shit, I’ve really messed this up.” He turns away from your stare, your anxiousness returning tenfold with this reaction. He takes your hand, shuts your front door gently, and guides you over to the sofa.

He sits first, delicately handling you into the spot next to him. He cheats his body towards you, hands intertwining with yours. You look down at his larger ones encompassing yours, placed together in your lap. His thumbs soothe your skin, lulling the tightness in your chest to relax some with the comfort of his touch.

“Look at me, sweet girl.”

His croony voice pulls your attention away, following the tender command. The twang of his voice is coming out more with his emotion and it tugs your heart that you only get to hear it at its purest when he’s upset.

“Did you think I was coming here to tell you I was staying with her?”

The directness of the question steals the air from your lungs, your mouth agape when you scramble to try to cover up the clearly obvious thoughts you were having. It was as if he was inside your head, and at this moment, you didn’t necessarily appreciate how vulnerable it made you feel. He takes your silence as an answer, nodding to himself while he murmurs under his breath. Joel takes a deep breath before his gaze locks on yours.

“She’s leaving me. I told her the whole truth. And now I’m here to tell you all of the truth that I told her. It’s the least that you deserve.”

His eyes have glossed over again, no tears daring to spill out -- he’s trying to keep it all in, but you can see his emotion despite his best efforts. You’ve never seen Joel this unguarded, and it breaks your heart that he’s feeling this pain. You want to tell him that he doesn’t have to tell you anything, that he doesn’t owe you anything. But you also don’t want to close him off again, to brush this all under the rug.

“I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. I knew from that first conversation with you. That beautiful damn smile did me in the second I saw it. Hell, I’m pretty sure even Tommy and Ellie knew from that moment. I was so scared. I didn’t want to ever fail you, so I didn’t even give myself the chance to try…But I wanna try now. Completely. No more hiding, no more secrets. Just us. I love you, darlin’. Been in love with you for ages, I just couldn’t pull my head out of my ass long enough to say it to you.”

A jolt of adrenaline is shot through your body, jitters lightening your limbs as your heart beats faster. The words that you have been waiting for, dreaming of, just said so matter-of-factly by him. It feels like a figment of your imagination, so unbelievable to you at this moment that your hands reach for his chest, checking to make sure he’s really there.

A light chuckle leaves his mouth, his hands coming up to lay over yours, holding them against his pounding heartbeat. Once you believe that he’s really there, your eyes trace up from his chest. Pure affection oozes out of his brown eyes, the tiniest smile tugging the corners of his lips as he awaits your response.

You realize it’s been silent for a minute, the surprise of this conversation stealing your words. Hands press harder into his strong sternum, weight supported by him as you shift to kneel over him. You lean down and slant your mouth against his in a ghostly kiss. His mouth chases yours when you pull your head back, eyes locked into each other’s when you finally respond before kissing him passionately.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to realize that.”

It’s been a few weeks since that afternoon. Heather completely moved out of Joel’s, leaving the house with just him and Ellie again. He’s told Ellie, not the full extent of everything that’s happened because she’s only fifteen, but that he and Heather are separated and that the two of you are together. He knows she’s not naive, especially after all that she’s been through, but he couldn’t really find the courage to face her and tell her the whole truth about his stupidity. So, the rest of the gaps are to be filled in by inference or imagination.

He’s told Tommy the whole truth, though. Another reason for Maria to dislike him, especially because she was friendly with his now ex-wife. Tommy is his brother, at the end of the day, and despite him not condoning Joel’s actions over the last year, he’s said that he can’t help but feel relieved that this can all be put behind them. And that his brother, and you, his close friend, can be happy together.

Joel’s asked you to move in about four times now. Each time he asks, he knows the answer, but he can’t help but try again in the slight chance that it’s changed. You always tell him that you will, eventually, but you don’t think it’s the best idea right now. Especially with all of the shit that you have been getting that Joel seems to be ignoring.

Time passing means it’s also been a few weeks since you and Joel have been able to be around each other publicly. To express your affection, hold hands, kiss. It all feels so foreign - like you still have the risk of being caught when people look at the two of you. It doesn’t help with the glares or dirty looks you get from some people of Jackson. It festers the growing mold of insecurity in you, feeling the guilt of breaking up a marriage, even a loveless one.

The worst instances have been when you’ve been at work and Joel stops in, either on his own or with Tommy and some patrol guys. Nothing has changed from his routine before, but now he doesn’t have to hide his reactions to your hands brushing when you pass him a drink or wait around all night just to be able to kiss you and walk you home.

Joel’s handsy, to say the least. Especially with a drink or two in him. He’s constantly running a hand down your side or to your ass when you bring over a tray of drinks to the high-top table he and his buddies are at. Or he’s leaning over the counter to grab a kiss from you when you drop a glass of whiskey in front of him. He’s even gotten to a point where he was tipsy enough to climb behind the bar in the opening at the end, stealthily creeping up behind you as you organize glasses to wrap himself around you and give you a sloppy kiss. He’s cheered on by his cohort and all but chased out from behind the bar by his brother who grumbles annoyances as Joel shoots a cheeky wink in your direction.

All of his displays make you smile, and you haven’t been happier to finally have Joel to yourself and for everyone to know just how in love with you he is. But, it hasn’t made it any easier when you hear all of the nasty things said about you.

The worst of it comes one night when you’re working. Joel’s been put on an evening patrol shift, but he’d promised to swing by the Tipsy Bison to pick you up and take you back to his to spend the night.

Most of the shift comes and goes uneventfully - some friends stop in and keep you entertained for a few hours, the music playing not making you want to bang your head against the wall. Tommy’s working with you tonight, having taken some time off of patrol to help out more around the house and with his now one-year-old son. He approaches you at the bar polishing glasses, nodding to a group of women around a table that are on their fourth or fifth round of the night.

“Think you can take the next round over to them for me? Really gotta take a piss.” You laugh at Tommy’s excuse, nodding and taking the order from him.

“You could just ask, y’know. Didn’t need the extra information.” He rolls his eyes and quickly jets off to the bathrooms. You prepare the cocktails and grab the two beers from the fridge, arranging everything on a tray to make your way over to the ladies.

About three paces away, you tune into their conversation and your stomach sinks to your feet.

“Can you believe that she can still show her face around here? I would be holed up in my house if I were her.”

“She probably feels great about herself. I bet she’s going after the other brother now, have you seen them joking around all night with each other? She’s basically throwing herself at him. What a slut.”

“I think I’ll actually feel bad for Joel if that happens. But, you know what they say, once a homewrecker, always a homewrecker.”

“She probably gets off on being the mistress or something. Adds the excitement since she’s probably gotten fucked every which way at this point in her life.”

Tears prick your eyes and you blink them away, steel expression as you close in on the table. You stay silent as you deposit the drinks on the surface, turning away with the tray under your arm only to hear one of them shout after you.

“Homewrecking whore!”

They dissolve into cackles, the tables around them all now talking in hushed tones as they stare at you. The burn of humiliation creeps up your neck, watery eyes bubbling over. Don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you break, you’re already pathetic enough right now without them seeing your face. Your legs book it into the bathroom after throwing the drink tray onto the counter, the black plastic skidding to a stop in front of the younger Miller.

Tommy’s heard what was shouted, the bullies snickering away and satisfied. Anger bites in his throat and he holds back from shouting across the room. Instead, he saunters over and starts picking up the nearly full drinks onto the tray again, the group staring at him incredulously.

“Excuse me, we’re drinking those?”

He simply shakes his head, smiling politely at them.

“Nah, you’re leaving. Now. And you’re gonna stop harassing people if you wanna come back.”

At that he walks away, dumping the drinks in the back bar sink and watching the group exit in a huff.

When you come out of the bathroom puffy-eyed and see the empty table, the thought occurs to you that Tommy must have said something. You give him an appreciative smile, and he says nothing more of it for the rest of the shift.

Your mind continues to replay all of the horrible things they said about you, starting to wonder if there was a layer of truth to it. You were distracted for the rest of the night and when you escaped back to the stock room to pull what was needed at the end of the night, Tommy took the opportunity to pull Joel aside when he walked through the doors to pick you up.

“Don’t tell her that I told you this, but something happened at work tonight.” Tommy keeps his voice down from the lingering patrons, one arm across his torso, the other holding his hand to his mouth to pinch his lip. His eyes dance around to make sure there’s no one eavesdropping.

“What? What are you saying, what happened? Is she okay?” Joel’s brow furrows, feet stepping towards the back to find you. He worries immediately, his mind used to jumping to the worst scenarios from the shit that he’s seen.

“She’s in one piece, quit panicking. Just, some unsavory things were said. There’re this group of women that were drunk, but I think they said some stuff about her. All I heard was what they shouted at her when she walked away, called her a ‘homewrecking whore.’”

Joel grimaces, his heart breaking at the thought of you being subjected to such torment. His temper swells in his chest, and his first thought was to go find whoever it was and sling insults right back to them. It wasn’t even true, he was the one who got you all into that mess, but of course, to an outsider looking in, they were going to blame the third party involved in a marriage that fell apart.

Joel nods in understanding, not willing to dare repeat what Tommy said, the words sitting bitterly in his mouth while he leans against the counter waiting for you.

Your eyes are trained down when you enter the main room again, counting the stock of the bottles in your hands under your breath. At someone’s throat clearing, your head snaps up and the slightest smile grows on your face at the sight of Joel leaning over the bar with a gentle, boyish grin.

“Hey, sweet girl. Boss man says you can head home early with me.” He jerks his head in Tommy’s direction, his brother smiling with a hand raised in a wave. You smile wider, waving your thanks back as you set the box of bottles on the counter. Making your way out and over to Joel, his arms scoop you up against him with a sigh of contentment.

“Missed you, darlin’. You ready to head home?” His lips press into your hair at the top of your head, the tiniest bit of tension from the night relaxing in his embrace.

“Ready. Let’s go home, cowboy.” Joel chuckles lightly at the nickname, keeping one arm wrapped around you as you both start down the gravel street. He recounts his shift with you, telling you about a family of bunnies he saw to cheer you up and cracking a couple of jokes. You barely smile in his direction, laughing a beat too late when you register that he’s been jesting with you, much too quiet for your normal, bubbly self. You act completely cold about it all, with no anger or emotion burning in you to share with him. It squeezes his chest, the fact that you’re in pain and keeping it distant from him. Those horrible fucking words that he wishes he could just wipe from your brain sit sour in his mouth. All he wants is to block them out so you never have to hear them again because they are the furthest thing from the truth.

He wishes you would tell him what happened tonight; you feign an uneventful evening when he asks about your night. All he wants to do is reassure you, but without you opening up, he doesn’t want to push you if you don't want to talk about it.

The two of you walk into his house, trailing up lazily to the bedroom. Per your request, the room has been rearranged and the bedding has been changed to an extra set you had at home, making the space once again solely Joel’s. Instead of bits of her sprinkled into the space, there are pieces of you lying around that make his heart beat a little faster and a smile crosses his face each time he notices them. Clothes in his dresser, earrings on the nightstand, the book you’re reading on the desk where it’d been left this morning.

Changing from your work clothes, you leave them hanging over the chair. Your pajamas are a pair of boxers that he hasn't touched since moving to Jackson and one of his old t-shirts, the fabric worn in just the right way to make it ideal for sleeping. He strips down, slipping on a pair of grey sweats and staying shirtless. He crawls onto his unmade bed, peeling back your side, and patting your spot, a soft smile on your face as you take the invitation.

Joel’s hands find your waist, bunching up the cotton of his t-shirt to press his palms to your warm skin. He dips his head down to your chest, nuzzling his hooked nose against your breasts. He presses sweet kisses to the soft cushiony tissue, forehead resting on your sternum. He hums against the fabric covering you, lifting his hands at your hips to pull the hem further up. You relax under his affection, quiet, breathy sighs leaving your lips.

“My sweet girl, can I help get you out of your head?” Joel’s question sends a wave of arousal between your legs, his broad frame rolling you from your side to your back. He moves to hover over your form from the side, hands coasting over your curves. Thumbs tweak your nipples through your shirt, a whimper falling from your lips. Your complete trust and devotion stare back at him as you fully comply with his request.

“Please distract me.”

Joel groans at your submission, eyes blown wide with hunger and awe.

“Gonna give you exactly what you need to feel better, baby. Gonna remind you how much I love you.” He pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it over the side of the bed. Lips attach to the supple peaks of your breasts, sucking gently and pulling moans from your lips. He works the opposite one with his fingers, swapping his attentive mouth when he feels you arch your back to press your chest into his face. His lips separate from your nipple, hot open-mouthed kisses trailing down your stomach. Every few, Joel’s tongue slips out and skates against your skin, the sensation rippling goosebumps along the surface.

Once he reaches the waist of the boxer shorts you’ve got on, he sits up to admire your form under him. The spots of his saliva glisten in the low, yellow lamplight, your breasts perked up as they rise and fall with your shallow breaths. His fingers hook into the elastic band, slipping them down and sending you soft praise when you lift your hips for him.

“Good girl.”

The shorts join your shirt, rumpled on the floor somewhere. Joel sits back on his heels, gripping your ankles gently to bend your knees and spread your legs open for him. You mold to his positioning like clay, one leg falling to the side lazily to put your glistening cunt on display for him. His tongue wets his lips as he drinks the sight of you up, wishing he was any good at drawing or painting so that he could reproduce you like the work of art you are.

His touch floats up your calves and your velvety thighs, focus zeroing in on the dripping folds in front of him. He shimmies down the bed onto his tummy, arms hooking under your thighs to pull you closer to him. He rests on his elbows partially, and you watch as his gaze becomes fully entranced by the vision of your wet arousal that is all for him.

“You’re so beautiful, darlin’. Everything about you, but especially this gorgeous pussy of yours. She’s just weeping for me, isn’t she? You want me to take care of her? Show her she’s mine? Show you how much I love you?” His words only cause more dampness to flood your core, soft whines drawing out of you as you move to sit up. You lean back on your hands, desperate to watch every detail unfold of your man worshipping you from between your legs.

“Please, Joel. Pretty please,” you mewl.

A satisfied smirk crosses his face, loving how desperate you get for him. His eyes fall to the space between your legs, his mouth salivating. He leans in, letting spit drip onto the coarse curls that cover your mound, his hardening cock twitching as part of him coats your sex, marking you as his in addition to the love bites waxing and waning in phases across your body. He reaches a hand around your leg, coating his fingers with your wetness and using it to mix and smear his spit and your arousal all over the hair and skin there.

He presses a delicate kiss to your hood, the contact sending a jolt to your thighs and jerking your hips. One large hand pushes down on your stomach to keep you in place as he swipes his tongue from your taint to your clit, the tip of it slipping in to tease your entrance as it skates along through your slick. He savors the taste of you, a sharp sweetness that’s become his favorite flavor.

A groan rumbles from his chest, vibrating against you before his mouth sucks at your clit. Moans tumble from your mouth, breath hitching as you inhale when his tongue moves down, pressing into your entrance slightly. Like eating ice cream in a heatwave, he moves to catch any dripping arousal with his mouth or chin, your name falling from his lips as he feels himself achingly hard in his sweatpants against the mattress. He starts to fuck his hips into the cushiony material, tongue easily slipping in and out as he starts to thrust in your cunt.

“Fucking love your little sounds. Love how sweet you are for me, darlin’. Never gonna get enough.”

Fingers work circles in your clit, the motions tightening the knot in your stomach. Your head falls back with a moan of Joel’s name, chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to keep breathing while your pleasure builds its pressure inside of you. His mouth and fingers swap positions, suckling at your clit with lewd noises while two of his large fingers slide in between your walls. His hand fucks your tight pussy, praises rasped against your mound as he takes a breath to press kisses against the curls there. Another finger is added, the girth of all three working you towards your bliss.

“Fuck, ‘m so close, baby. Gonna come, oh my god. Feel so good.” Your voice is high-pitched, whining as the pressure pushes harder inside of you, taut coils ready to snap.

Joel looks up at you, pupils completely blown wide in ecstasy. His hips still work his hard cock against the mattress, his own release building inside of him.

“Be my sweet girl, come on my mouth.”

With his words and his lips attached to your cunt again, the pressure built in you releases with a mind-clearing, blinding pop. Your wanton moans echo in the room, the bawdy sounds of your pleasure and your wetness mixing together as Joel continues to work you through your orgasm.

His hips move faster as he watches you come undone from his handiwork, the noises you’re making sending him over the edge. He comes in his sweatpants with a moan of your name, dry humping the mattress like a teenager. He feels like he should be embarrassed, but after all that he just witnessed from you, it’s a miracle he didn’t bust when you simply opened your legs for him.

Untangling himself from you, he excuses himself to the bathroom to clean himself up, throw his pants in the hamper and grabs a warm, damp washcloth for you. He patters back over to the bed and takes care of you, discarding the washcloth and gently closing your legs. He climbs back into bed with you, pulling the covers up once again. He nestles in behind you, curling his frame around you protectively. Your mind’s foggy from your orgasm and exhaustion floods over your body, no protest from you as you start to drift. He nuzzles into your hair, pressing a delicate kiss at the back of your neck as he whispers to you.

“It’s only you, darlin’.”

Another month passes after that night at the bar where you heard what was being said about you around town. The gossiping didn’t stop, especially when people found out that you had finally caved in from Joel’s relentless (yet charming) pleads and agreed to move in with him and Ellie.

Everyone seemed to have an opinion on how fast you both had moved, how you were shoving everything in his ex-wife’s face, how you were staking your claim so publicly and like a “whore.” Whatever it all meant, it was heard in whispers at the bar, in the market, in town meetings, you name it. If you were present, people were talking.

It influenced you the more you heard it; the repetition of it all made it sound like truth to your weak mind. You kept these feelings of guilt and shame inside, burying them deep in an attempt to keep everything copacetic for Joel. He was happy these days, smiling more and cracking jokes. He was more involved in the community and Ellie also found her place with Joel behind her and fully content in Jackson. You dreaded being the one to cause any more problems than you already did for the last year and a half, so you shut your mind up in an attempt to compartmentalize.

If Joel didn’t know what all was being said, that was for the best. You weren’t going to be the one to burst the love bubble that he had for you, so you were just going to keep cool and try to get out of your head about everything that was left undiscussed.

But, that only made going into town and going to work hell. You weren’t acting like yourself anymore, no small talk with customers or catching up with neighbors and friends that would come to visit you. You did your job and walked home each night silently, even when you were with Joel. Every shift you would hear some new comment or rumor about you, adding it to the file that you had accumulated in your mind. Your subconscious flicked through it every night in your dreams, pulling out some of the worst to relive when you should have been dreaming of being happy with the man lying beside you.

The guilt was pulling you under, each new comment acting like a brick to weigh you down into the sea of liability and disgrace you were lost in. There was shame over how you were characterized in the outcome of all of this, guilt over breaking up his marriage, anxiety over becoming a burden to Joel and anchoring him down into the depths again. You’d thought it all would wash away with the changing of tides, since you and Joel could be together openly, but it only brought you to the ocean floor while Joel was floating on the waves above you.

It was an evening that Joel had off, opting to stay in and play Boggle with Ellie. You left the two of them to head to work after playing a few rounds yourself, both you and Ellie completely annihilating Joel. The acid in your stomach sloshed around, pressure building in your torso and pushing the burning sensation up your chest and into your throat as your steps closed in on the Tipsy Bison. Your tongue feels heavy and dry in your mouth, breaths jagged as you attempt to calm yourself outside the wooden building. You stand there for what feels like an hour, wrangling all your anxiety into a small lump in your throat. This is where it would sit for the rest of the night until you could finally let it all back out on your walk home.

The beginning of your shift was normal, nothing said to or about you. That all changed, though, when the person you least expected to see comes and sits on the stool in front of where you’re polishing glasses.

Heather.

Your eyes widen in surprise and nervousness, the lump in your throat starting to seep its way back into the burning acid of your stomach and the tightness of your chest. Ears brace themselves for either an insult or something degrading to be thrown your way. After a beat of silence, you scramble to resolve the awkward tension.

“I can get Tracy to serve you, she’s just over--”

“No, no that’s not necessary. If you’re fine with serving me, that is.”

You nod quickly to relieve the discomfort, your people-pleasing tendencies rearing their ugly head. You actually don’t want to be serving her, but you also really don’t want more drama to inevitably spread about you walking away to get someone else for her - there’s no chance that it wouldn’t be spun against you.

“Um, yeah no, totally cool. What can I get ya?”

She gives you her order and you quickly make it up, depositing the glass in front of her. Silence falls between the two of you again, but this time she’s the one to break it.

“So, um, how are you? How’s work?”

The questions take you off-guard. You were friendly with Heather before, as her neighbor you would bring over extra garden crops and she would offer to mend clothes of yours. She was always polite and made small talk with you. Well, that was before she knew you were fucking her husband.

“It’s good, I guess. Not much to change around here. How’re things at school? You’re still teaching there?”

You're an idiot. Why are you continuing this conversation as if you guys are long-time acquaintances? You’re trying to be cool about it, just ignore the elephant in the room, but something’s gotta give at one point, right?

“Things are great. We’ve got some open volunteer positions if you’d be interested. It wouldn’t be with me if that’s a concern.”

“No - no. I mean, I’d love to volunteer for Ellie’s class if there’s anything…” you trail off, the thorny pricks of awkwardness becoming too much for you. You start to speak, only to hear Heather at the same time.

“Listen, I really am sor--”

“It’s not all your fault--”

The two of you laugh lightly, tension coating the conversation. Your eyes glance around at anything but Heather’s face before finally meeting her gaze and nodding for her to go first.

She clears her throat, adjusting her position on the stool before starting again.

“It’s not all your fault that my marriage fell apart. I mean, yeah, you’ve got some culpability in the fact that you were having an affair with Joel, but he also told me that you had been with him before we even dated. And, as a woman myself and someone who fell for Joel, my best guess is that you’ve been in love with him since that first time. And Joel told me - what he felt for you the whole time, too. I just, I wanted to say to you that I don’t blame you. Joel is the one who made a stupid, selfish decision that affected both of us. Having an affair with him? Yeah, not really great, but I’ve thought about it for a while, and I would’ve done the same if it were my first husband. He was the love of my life, and I never wanted to lose him. So, yeah. I wanted to tell you that I understand. And I completely despise what everyone says about you. It’s disgusting, and I’m so sorry you have to hear that all the time.”

She’s apologizing to you. The woman whose husband you had an affair with. Granted, she was right that you were together once before they even dated. And that you’ve loved him ever since. But there is actually no sane world in which she should be apologizing to you. Have you made the impression that you were expecting this? Was she feeling guilty towards you?

All of these thoughts eat away at you, crashing around your mind and making that burning pressure alive again in your gut. You chew your lip, eyes wide, and stare a thousand miles away. Remorse overtakes your mind, words caught in your throat.

Why couldn’t she have just come in here guns blazing? Screamed at you? Called you all those names you’ve heard for weeks?

Her being cruel would be way better than her being kind, understanding even.

It makes your chest tighten, air squeezed out of your lungs in a panic.

You have to say something, so your voice squeaks a response.

“Thank you. I’m so sorry, too. I really didn’t want to hurt you, I just-I couldn’t let him go.”

Heather nods, a glint of a past life in her eyes. She presses her lips in a tight line before exhaling deeply. Standing from the stool, she nods again, giving you a quick goodbye and making her way out.

She really only came here to say that to you. To apologize.

You're an utter piece of shit, guilt, and shame finally filling your lungs and stealing your breath away from you.

Quickly, you turn to your nearest coworker, mumbling out an excuse that you need to leave early. Instead of waiting for any confirmation, you all but run out of the building, feet carrying you past Joel’s house with the lights still on, and past your old little cottage that now sits dormant. The overgrown lawn tugs at your heart, begging you to take care of it again. You turn back towards Joel’s, seeing him laughing with Ellie through the window, and the tugs on your heart pull harder towards them.

You pass the residential area, approaching the site you haven’t seen in months. Following around the tattered, weather-worn red siding of the old barn, the open grazing field comes into full view. You climb over the split-rail fence, mind reeling over what tonight has entailed while muscle memory carries you to the small clearing in the tall grasses.

Not even realizing you were holding your breath, a sigh escapes your lips. Dewy earth dampens the seat of your jean shorts, the sticky summer air keeping you warm. Thighs press to your chest and your arms envelope around your knees. You rest your chin in between your kneecaps, eyes combing up to the night sky above you. The lack of light pollution these days has made the stars brighter against the deep blue atmosphere. They blur from the tears welling in your eyes, one blink creating tiny streams on your face. They feed into the ocean of guilt and shame that you’ve made your home, the feeling of it’s waters choking your lungs to breath out sobs.

You sit like that for a while, fuzzy constellations kaleidoscoping in your vision. Your attention is only pulled away from the midnight blue when you hear a twig snap. Turning over your shoulder, the back of you hand wipes your eyes clear to see Joel standing behind you. Hands in the front pockets of his jeans, he stands tense and looks down at you softhearted and doleful.

Without an invitation, he closes the gap between you, groaning quietly as he bends down to take the spot next to you. You’re transported back to countless nights before, Joel and you under the same sky to spend your fleeting time together before sunrise.

“Got real worried when you didn’t come home when you usually do. Checked the bar first, and your old place. Guess I should’ve had the thought to come here a lot sooner.” His voice is low, gentle timbre vibrating the tightness in your chest and giving some slack to the taut pull of it.

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just--I couldn’t go home right away. I didn’t want to ruin your night with Ellie…” your own voice is meek, cracking slightly from disuse. You sniffle, the back of your hand swiping under your nose and the heel of your palm rubbing the tear stains from your cheeks. The evidence of your emotion makes you embarrassed; here you were, your anxious fears coming true -- you’re officially a burden to Joel. He’s had to cut his night short with his daughter, traipsing around town to try to find you because you couldn’t bother to swallow your sorrow and head home like normal.

“Darlin’, you don’t need to apologize. It’s okay that you needed time alone, but even if you had come home, you wouldn’t have ruined our night. We love you…” he clears his throat, tender touches tucking hair behind your ears and rubbing the nape of your neck before continuing, “What’s wrong, baby? What’s got you so upset?”

“It’s nothin’. It’s nothin’, I’m fine. Just, tough night at work…” You lie through your teeth, avoiding Joel’s gaze to keep the facade. One look in your eyes and you know he’d see right through you.

“It’s clearly not nothin’ if you’re crying about it, darlin’. You can tell me anything. I wanna help you, be there for you, protect you. Did someone say something to you? Something mean?”

Your eyes snap up to him, the knowing look on his face cluing you in that he’s known about what’s being said around town. You don’t really know what hurts more in the moment - the fact that he knew all of these horrible things were being said and he didn’t comfort you or that you’ve already been a burden to him, already been another problem for him for much longer than you thought.

You think about lying to him, but you know he would be able to tell - he can always tell - instead opting to just break down the damn of everything you’ve been feeling, letting it all rush out at once.

“It’s all of it. Everything that people are saying about me, it feels like it’s the truth. I did break up a marriage. I did have an affair for months with you; you were someone’s husband. I love you, but it doesn’t negate the fact that what happened was still wrong on some level. And what everyone’s saying about what I did, it’s made this sea of guilt and shame and I’m drowning in it. I can’t keep my head clear above water, it’s all consuming right now. And I feel so anxious about being a burden to you. You’ve been so happy lately, with us being together and living together and Ellie being adjusted. You’re so much lighter, floating even. I couldn’t bear to drag you under with me when you finally caught your breath.” It all tumbles out of you in a stream of consciousness, and in the end, Joel is silent as he takes it all in.

The thought occurs to you that you’ve been wanting to know how Joel has felt about all of it. You haven’t talked about it at all; if he felt just the same guilt and shame, maybe it could help you both work to absolve your sins. If you were in it together, then maybe you had a chance to make it to land.

“Sweet girl, I hate that you’ve been feeling that way. And I hate that you thought you couldn’t tell me, just cause I’ve been happy to have you finally and I feel like we’re creating a lil’ family. But, I have to say, I ain’t got any regrets. I’ve got you now, I’ve got you in our home and with my daughter, it’s all that matters to me. I couldn’t care less about anything that people are saying about you, it makes me pissed, but getting angry at ‘em just fuels the fire. We can just move on, darlin’. We should just live our lives, fuck whoever doesn’t want to be happy for us.”

Bile creeps up and scorches your throat, a whirlpool swirling in your stomach and the choking feel back in your lungs. You hold it all in, letting Joel wrap his arms around you and pull you up to take you home.

Does he really have no regrets? Would he still get married if he was given another chance? Would he still choose to put you through this pain that has been a constant dull in your heart for the last year and a half? Would he choose the path that makes you the target of so much contempt, disgust, antipathy from so many?

Those thoughts have plagued you for days now. You had swallowed your searing pain, the guilt cold in your lungs as the hurt settled in your stomach, seeping throughout your body to make your limbs tender and heavy. Every step felt like it took too much effort, every fake smile plastered on your face made your cheeks sore in the wrong way. You had become a method actor in your own life, optimistic contentment used as a mask to hide the truth. You went through the motions of the days off you had, enjoying breakfast with Joel and Ellie, laughing at their bickering, and making them both their favorite way to eat eggs - Joel’s scrambled and Ellie’s over medium. You were a family, just as Joel had said, and you were playing the role of the dutiful, delighted partner.

Once they both left for the day, you deflated. Took off the mask and stared at yourself in the mirror, taste of bitter metal in your mouth as you watched the remorse, the regret crawl out of your chest and into your eyes, across your face. It disgusted you, angered you, yet you forced yourself to study it, punished yourself because everyone had told you that you should.

That was how it had gone for the last handful of days. Today was your first day back at work, and you got ready outside of the bathroom to avoid facing the hideous manifestations of your sins. Exiting your shared bedroom, your face pulled tight again, smile ghosting across your lips and eyes crinkled with subtle joy. Joel was standing at the bottom of the stairs, kneeling to lace up his boots. At the sight of you, he grinned and stood up, hands reaching for your waist and pulling you in for a chaste kiss.

Part of you wondered if he could taste it on you - the bitter, sour feeling that sat in your mouth. How much his lack of regret had crumbled any resolve you had left, any room for forgiveness you had in yourself.

He walked you to work before heading off on patrol. Walking inside, you instantly wanted to turn back and hide away at home for weeks longer. The thought of having to keep up your act for the whole night was making you nauseous. An hour into your shift, you couldn’t take the feeling anymore, so you snuck a shot of whiskey to attempt to take the edge off. The tingle of the alcohol soothed the lump in your throat, warming your cold chest and settling your woozy stomach. It gave you a break, for just a moment.

You chased that moment of peace all night, taking pulls whenever you could. You chatted more with patrons and coworkers, bubbling up giggles as your brain shut off from your inebriation. It was so tranquil to not have that frigid shame in your lungs, the thoughts of all that has been said to hurt you in the last few months silenced, even the voice of Joel saying he has zero regrets about what he’d done is muffled.

No wonder why Joel got drunk all the time at the beginning of this. It’s the only medicine that works for guilt.

By the end of your shift, you’re nearly wasted. Not quite to a level where you’ve lost motor skills but to the point where your eyes lids feel heavy, your vision is blurred on the edges, and your words start to slur together. When you’ve snuck to the backroom to take another swig, pushing the limit of how drunk you can get in the next ten minutes before your shift ends, Joel saunters into the bar. His eyes scan the room for any sight of you, pouting slightly when he comes up empty. Tommy’s working tonight, so he makes his way over to the end of the bar where his brother stands. Joel leans against the counter, nodding a greeting to Tommy and asking where you’re at.

Tommy looks at him, lips pressed together and eyebrows raised. He glances back at the entrance to the stockroom before leaning in.

“She’s back there. Probably downing a couple more shots of whiskey.”

Joel’s eyes widen and his brow shoots up, a look of shock at what Tommy’s said. It’s not like you to drink at work, hell, you barely ever have a nightcap when the place is all cleared out. Joel can count the number of times he’s seen you drunk on one hand, and this is certainly not an occasion that would have you indulging. He clears his throat, eyes focused back on his brother.

“She’s drinking at work? Is she drunk?”

As Tommy opens his mouth to respond, the door to the stockroom swings on its hinges and you stumble out while whistling. The moment would normally make Joel chuckle, the way you’re completely carefree is somewhat endearing to him. But right now, he can’t help but worry that something else has happened to make you upset, and this time you’ve taken a coping mechanism out of his book.

Your mouth forms a perfect circle, surprise washing over your expression as you look around for anyone to share your reaction. A small burp comes from behind the hand you put up to your mouth, down turning your gaze away from him. Feet shuffle along to Joel, arms crossing over your chest as if the warmth in your chest will heat you up like sitting in front of a fire.

“Well, hello there, darlin’. Feeling good?” He chuckles lightly to hide his concern, Tommy backing up from the two of you and quickly making an exit from what is bound to be a bit of an awkward moment.

Painted smile on your face that doesn’t reach your eyes, hand reaching for his as a hiccup shoots from your chest.

“Guess so. Turned my brain off for the night, ‘was nice.” It was just what he was panicked about. That you had done what he had done so many months ago, gotten drunk out of his mind to grapple with all the remorse he had felt constantly.

He hated that you felt the same. He was the reason you were going through this. His actions hurt you, even beyond the time that you were his secret. He failed to pull you out with himself, leaving you to take on the weight of all that he had done, sinking you deeper while he had made it to the surface.

A stiff smile stretches across his face, hand reaching for the small of your back to guide you home.

“Alright, let’s get you home, sweet girl. Think you might need to clock out for the night.” He sends Tommy a wave and you turn to do the same, tripping over your feet. Joel catches you at your waist, righting you on your way out. He keeps a hand on you, eyes trained on your profile to keep watch. You keep your stare ahead, silencing falling over the two of you.

The fresh air has sobered you up some, thoughts infesting your mind again. The alcohol has kept you from getting back into the act that you’ve kept up around Joel, even working your blood to boil with anger towards him for the words that have been branded into your heart.

I ain’t got any regrets.

“Fucking bullshit.” You think out loud and the words stop Joel in his tracks. Brows furrow in confusion as his lips pucker to one side.

“What’s that, darlin’?”

“It’s fucking bullshit, Joel.”

He laughs apprehensively, unsure of where this is going. The words cut with bitterness behind them, and he can see in your eyes there’s pain burning.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I’m gonna need a little more from you.” He tilts his head to the side, the line between his brow deepening.

You can’t hold it in any longer, a river of anguish, guilt, pain, and more rushing out of you.

“How you just can get over it! We can just act like everything’s fine and nothing is fucked up about the way we got together! And you can feel all the relief of not having to hide an affair from your wife anymore and not hiding me, but now I’ve been passed the massive fucking weight. Now I’m known as the homewrecker, the slut, the mistress. You’re still Joel. It’s always ‘There’s Joel and the homewrecker. She’s so bold to be able to be with him after she broke apart a marriage.’ It feels like I’m barely keeping my head above water sometimes like this huge sea of guilt is going to drown me. I can’t understand how you can just have no regrets about it all when it’s hurt me so much. How I loved you, still love you so fucking much despite how much pain you’ve given to me. Purposefully or not, it all hurts the same. I’m so glad that you can show everyone that you love me, but I can’t keep pretending like we’re the picture-perfect couple and make a home together and live life now without addressing all of this shit. I can’t just pretend to be cool about it anymore.”

Tears have poured out of your eyes in the middle of everything, mixing with the runny nose that you sniffle back. You probably look a mess, but you can’t bring yourself to wipe it away. You want the sight to face Joel along with your words. You need him to see it all, to realize how much you’ve been harboring, how badly you need him to take some of the weight off of your chest before the water fully fills your lungs and takes you under completely.

Joel's tears burn his own eyes as he sees exactly what his stupidity has caused. He thought he could help you get over it by acting like he had moved on in hopes that you would do the same. That you guys could start fresh, leave it all behind. It was another stupid choice that he’d made. Of course, you couldn’t leave everything in the past; the way you built your relationship was in secret, hidden away. Of course, you should have been given reassurance when the two of you could finally be together. He should’ve shut everyone up instead of hoping that the insults and rumors would die out. Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.

He had more regrets now than he ever did.

His voice is thick when he finally responds, hand reaching up to grasp at the nape of your neck and the other on your cheek, holding your gaze in his.

“Of course I have regrets. I said that to try to put that thought in your head. I thought if you heard that I felt that way, you would start to feel it, too. That you could let go, be the carefree, light person that I fell in love with. That I am in love with. I am so sorry that you feel like you are carrying this all by yourself. I have so much remorse for the past. I tell myself every day that if I could go back, I would have never doubted what we could be together. That you loved me completely, that I wouldn’t fail you. I choose you, over it all. I love you so much, and I am so sorry that I’ve hurt you. You don’t ever have to pretend around me. I’m the only other person who could understand what you’re feeling, I want you to tell me everything. Yell at me, cry about it to me, whatever you need to do. But please, don’t keep it from me. I should’ve reassured you. I should’ve been honest with you. I should’ve protected you, told everyone in this fucking town what I think of anything they have to say. I am so sorry that I failed you. You’re it for me. This has to work. I will do anything to make this work and to make you happy, 'cause I have no clue what I’d do without you. I finally have my shot at a life with you, and I’m not giving that up.”

His words drive a knife into your chest - you realize that his biggest fear has come true. He’s failed you. Or thinks he’s failed you.

Yes, his actions have hurt you, but for a long time, you were choosing the pain. And yes, you’ve taken on the guilt for both of you, and you realize you are still choosing the pain, but this time it's all too much to take on alone.

Not once did you think he failed you. You’ve thought you would fail him, dull him, lose him. That you couldn’t work through your own shit to be happy with him. Both of you have avoided communicating and miscommunicated at the same time.

The two of you have been so absorbed in trying to give the other what you thought they needed, that you’ve ended up doing the opposite.

Truth was, that you both needed the same things from each other. You needed the other to fully knock down the walls, to be vulnerable, to be honest. You both tried so hard to placate the other, to make the other one feel better about everything, that you’ve ended up on completely opposite ends.

You can’t help but laugh. Only the two of you could be so troubled with trying to make the other happy, at ease, or content that you end up making it worse. It hasn't been easy for the last year and a half, and as soon as it could be, you've found ways to complicate it.

Joel stares at you quizzically, the sound relaxing his concern. He can’t help the grin that tugs at his lips, shaking his head in disbelief at you.

“Okay, did I say something funny? Or wrong? Is this whole thing about to be over and you’re laughing maniacally?”

That makes you giggle more, tears of laughter now rolling down your perked-up face. You catch your breath, inhaling a few times through your chuckles to finally calm down enough to speak. You press your hands to his chest in reassurance, shaking your head with a genuine smile aching your cheeks.

“No, no. Absolutely not. That was - that was exactly what I needed to hear. I just - I’m sorry, I’m laughing because we are both so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, sweet girl, it’s only me --”

“Nah, uh huh. Both. I don’t mean to call you stupid, maybe silly is a better word. We’ve just -- we’ve been so focused on trying to spare the other, to make the other happy that we’ve totally missed what we both needed. And what we need from each other is exactly the same.”

“And what is that?” His confusion has lessened, but still hasn’t left. What’s vanished has been replaced with a content smirk quipped up to the side.

“Being honest. Being vulnerable. Communicating. I should have told you how I was feeling this whole time so that you could understand, and I should have known that I could come to you even though I thought I would be a burden. I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner. We're in this together.”

The light bulb goes off for him, eyes brightening as he comes to his own realization.

“No need to apologize, darlin'. Like you said, 'm just as guilty in this mess. We chose each other -- we should be partners, not adversaries. I should’ve been honest about how I felt about everything that happened. I shouldn’t've pretended everything was fine.”

You nod, tender smile as you stare into his eyes. Your expressions have softened, tears have dried, and every bit of pain has been replaced with forgiveness, perspective, and love. Joel chuckles himself, and you break into a fit of giggles together.

“God, we really are a pair of fools, huh?” Joel’s voice is light, teeth pulling his bottom lip under them as he gazes down at you in his arms.

“Wound up as bad comedians mocking our own lives. The creators of our own suffering.”

“Wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else, darlin’. But, do you think we could come up with something new? Maybe something actually fun?”

That makes you laugh again, Joel’s chest warming at your joy. His hands fall from your neck and face, snaking around your waist to hold you close. You nod in agreement with a gentle, content grin.

“Only the good stuff from here on out. Maybe we can even sprinkle in some shitty puns?”

“Oh yeah? Got any on your mind? Hit me, I’ll decide if it gets added to the act.”

You think for a moment, a cheeky smirk twisting your mouth.

“Hmm…how about “You must be a planet, and I must be a moon, 'cause I totally revolve around you!”

Joel’s head rolls back with a grumble of laughter, a grimace on his face once he looks at you again, shaking his head.

“'M sorry, darlin’, but that is so bad.”

“Okay, well you try it then!” The two of you start your walk back to your home, tangled up in each other. You pinch his side at the rejection, looking up expectantly.

“What did Neil Armstrong say when no one laughed at his moon jokes? I guess you had to be there!” He laughs as if it’s the funniest thing, and the dad joke gives you the slightest chuckle.

“Oh, c’mon, how is that any better than mine?”

“Cause it’s actually funny! Can’t help that I’m such a natural-born comic.”

“That is such a lie. You definitely got that from ‘No Pun Intended: Volume Too.’ I know your sources, Miller.”

“Fine, fine. You got me there. Guess we'll just have to let Ellie choose the winner.”

You smile at the thought of returning home to her, warmth in your chest melting some of the guilt away as you reach the door. The two of you tumble inside together, giggling away. You toe off your shoes, and Joel watches from the entryway as he unties his boots. Flopping down on the couch next to his daughter, you’re immediately rolling into the story behind the little competition that she’s going to be the judge of. He takes in the sight under the warm lamplight, happiness swelling in his chest as he watches the two people in front of him start to playfully bicker back and forth about the best kind of joke.

It might not be a sheep ranch on the moon, but it’s certainly his dream come true.

taglist: @joelsversion @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @aleatoria2000 @thelightnessofthebeing @mangosandmimosas @runestavia @dianaffddz @beee-haw @bigboiseason123 @xyz32 @mrsvedder12 @tuquoquobrute @moriartyyouwhore @justsumtuffstuff @tryingtonotcryconstantly @alymaliktommo @cambleuu @iwrotethissky @pascalislove @pedr0swh0r3 @agentwhiskeysgf @jenna-ortega @juniperandthornz @wildwollff @pascals-djarin @missfeanor @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lil-stark @gracie7209 @pedrostories @nic0lodean @mymultiveres @v-mack @theelishad @cutie-with-that-booty @danelleee @harriedandharassed @mingiast (tagging some more mutuals, lmk if you want to be removed &lt;3) @johnwatsn @undrthelights @ladamedusoif @pedrit0-pascalit0 @ruinedbylanadelrey @thetriumphantpanda @pedgeitopascal @midnightswithdearkatytspb @dinsdjrn @thepascalofus @pedgito @soaringcloud @somedayauthor @alloftheimagines @pr0ximamidnight

[scaly-freaks]

how did you create amara? she's so compelling. i'm itching to create an hotd oc (mostly for aemond tho) but i'm absolutely unable to. i grew up on the era where every female oc was called a mary sue and every time i think someone could think that of my oc i become unbearably sad. enlighten me senpai

Aaahhh the Mary Sues. Such a silly way to diss what were usually teenage writers simply trying to explore the foundational stages of creating a character. There are so many popular Gary Stus in popular media (James Bond is definitely one) but men don't get called out for it the same.

I will say it took time for me to lean into writing a character who isn't just better than me in every sense of the word, and is allowed to make her own mistakes. I have to empathise with her a lot when she does some stupid shit and I'm sitting there like girl...

The key is probably to mix the stupid shit we all do on a daily basis (and judge more harshly when done by a fictional character) with real emotions and inner thoughts that would connect to most readers. Insecurities, anxiety, etc etc. But it's important to show her wanting to get out of these pitfalls of human nature, striving to do better even when she fails. She can't be perfect and smart and sassy out the gate or there's no fun watching her become a more well-rounded person.

The most important thing about an OC isn't how she's created at the start, but how she ends up at the finish line of the journey you're taking the reader along on. Don't flesh her out too much. Give her a few key traits - habits, emotional instabilities, insecurities - and then let them expand as she interacts with Aemond. Let her be human. Rolling the eyes, smirking, and sassy comebacks are all well and good, but real people don't behave like that. Sometimes, I like to put myself in the situation and realise I would never have such a put-together response because a fic writer isn't actually writing me (unless God has something to tell me about the sham of a plotline my life currently is). Once you've figured out what you'd do in a scene where you're stuck on what to write next, then bring back all you already know about your OC and modify your own response to become hers.

I didn't plan Amara at all when I put her into Burning Jasmine. My aim was to give Aegon someone that he could call his own in a way no one else in his family was. But I also knew Aegon is a dipshit. So, their first meeting is him basically yelling at her to get him more wine and stop telling him he needs a doctor, and her immediate reaction is girl fuck you, ew. Then, he softens, because the urge to be loved always comes out in the end (see here's where canon existing does help), and then I created Amara's background with the kidnapping from Lys, and how her parents raised her with love, and understood that she would see his anger as a facet of his isolation and vulnerability, not as something independent to him that he wields like a weapon.

Also my last pointer is always going to be the same but read, read, read. I would suggest contemporary books as unlike with fantasy, they're not worldbuilding, all they have are their characters. Learn from them. Get comfortable with inner monologuing for your OC that doesn't constantly revolve around Aemond, and how she is an accessory to him. She's the main character in her head, with a whole inner world of her own, and that'll be the best way to approach it.

If none of this made sense, disclaimer - I'm not the best with advice *-*

[pynky]

boy next door • p.sh

# • pt.1??

☆ • pairing; neighbor!sunghoon x m!reader

☆ • genre; fluff, romance

☆ • summary; you meet sunghoon while giving out leftover food to your neighbors. thats when things spark between you two.

☆ • includes/warnings; none

yesterday, your older sister had come over because she wanted to throw a gender reveal party for her incoming child. it was fun, you admit, even though you're not much of a party person. no one was upset with the fact that it was a boy, and the food that your mother had prepared was wonderful. however, she did make a lot, and there was a lot leftover.

"mom... why did you make so much food? you didn't even have that many people over." you ask, crossing your arms.

"well, I didn't know that. if they wanted seconds, there was plenty." there were about ten go-to plates that were filled and put into a black delivery bag. "can you do me a favor?" she asks, and you hum affirmatively in response. "you are gonna give out these leftovers to our neighbors."

"oh." normally, this wouldn't be an issue, but considering you live near a dead end and you had one neighbor that you weren't ready to talk to, you were unsure about this favor. "but-"

"ah-ah-ah. you gon' do it." your mother says with a smile. You sigh, walk over to the bag, and put it on your shoulder. luckily, you were already wearing decent clothing to go out with. As you head to your door, your mother yells a 'thank you!' and you respond with a 'yep.'

the next house was an issue. should you skip them? hell no, that's disrespectful. you know what? just do it, you're sure his parents will be the ones to answer, right? you walk up to their door and knock, praying to the gods that he doesn't answer the door. You hear steps and your heart races, really unsure of who's going to open the door. you shut your eyes just before the door opens.

"are you...okay?" your eyes open to see sunghoon, the neighbor you've been seeing around. the one that you cant help but stare at. the one that haunts your mind everyday. you don't know why, but he is so stunning to you, and if you're ever near him, your heart would practically beat out of your chest. it's not like you have a crush on him, well you do, but think of it like a hallway crush. you know absolutely nothing about him.

"oh yeah no, i'm fine. um..." he's looking at you, and i mean straight into your eyes. your gaze quickly averts to the ground beneath you.

"what do you need?" he asks, beginning to lean on the doorway and cross his arms. even with your head down, you can feel his eyes boring into your skull.

"oh, right. my mom made like so much food yesterday, and she wanted me to give out her food to the neighbors.” you respond. your voice is small, and your hands toyed with the strap of the bag. you open and reach into the bag, pulling out a tray full of warm food. you pick your head up and hand the food to him. when you glance at him to see his face, he's still looking at you, and then his eyes immediately lock with yours. quick to react, your eyes immediately drop down to the ground once again, earning a giggle from him.

you don't know it, but he finds it very cute. he's seen you around as well and definitely thinks the same way you think about him. he'd take the chance to approach you, but you seemed to be avoiding him every time he's around, so he respects your space, as he should.

"tell her I said thank you," he says. "are you sure you're okay? why are you so nervous?" at this point, he's reading you like a book. not that he's cocky, but he knows that he's making you act like this, but he doesn't question it.

"it's nothing, enjoy your food!" you turn on one heel and walk away. sunghoon calls out to you but you act like you don't hear him and begin to speed walk to the next house.

you open the door too your home and see your mother on the couch, watching her usual tv shows. “you’re back!” she turned to smile at you. “you finished?”

“yeah”

“oh, by the way.” she begins, sitting up and turning towards you, “i saw you talk to that boy. the one next door.” she grins.

oh dear.

“this is the year my son finally gets a boyfriend!!” She celebrates quietly, humming a tune and clapping her hands.

you groaned and reminded her, “we only exchanged a few words and some food, don’t get your hopes up.” she laughed, earning an eye roll from you.

"alright. whatever you say." she goes to sit back down on the couch. you head to your room, overthinking everything that occurred. fortunately, this puts you to sleep instead of keeping you up.

# • author’s note; im ngl guys i had no fucking clue where to stop this. so if it was abrupt im so sorry. and excuse the no caps thing i like the look of it.

[firefly-ghoul]

ghouligan buzzfeed unsolved shenanigans part two! If you don’t know the ghouligans are comprised of Swiss Aurora cirrus and phantom doing ghost hunting shit! Thank you for reading I really do appreciate it you guys rock!

————————————————————————

Phantom looks over at Aurora-If I went missing for like, a week do you think you’d be alarmed?

Aurora-I think so that’s,

Phantom-that’s nice I didn’t think you’d be alarmed

Aurora pointing her finger at phantom-your my friend

Phantom holding their hands up in surrender-I don’t like how you said that.

Aurora poking phantoms chest-YOU’RE MY FRIEND!

Phantom-why are you yelling at me!

Aurora-YOU’RE MY FRIEND!

Phantom-Oh Satan!

————————————————————————

Swiss by himself in a abandoned building -Hey there ghosts it’s me ya boy

————————————————————————

Phantom talking about ghosts with sodo-I’ve connected the dots.

Sodo tire of the ghost bullshit-You didn’t connect shit.

Phantom smirking-I’ve connected them.

————————————————————————

Cirrus to Aurora over walkie talkie -So far nothing and I’m about ten seconds away from phantom entering in the room.

Cirrus hearing phantom freak out about having to being by himself in the other room-Um his mind will eat itself and it’s going to be wonderful.

————————————————————————

Sodo-Ghost 101. One, knock book of shelf. Week two, uhh hold a candlestick in the middle of a hallway. Three… sheets. Ghost number four, what we got?

Swiss-You’re just name-you’re just going through the haunted mansion at Disneyland

Sodo trying not to laugh-No I’m not

————————————————————————

The ghouligan having a sleepover all in face masks and painting each others claws watching true crime documentaries.

Cirrus-I love this right off the bat.

Swiss getting his nails painted by cirrus-What do you love about it

Cirrus-well, I love…. I’ll tell you what

Phantom and aurora-(wheeze)

Cirrus-I love it when serial killers…have a fun little thing I don’t approve of serial killers

Swiss-(wheeze)

Cirrus-but I think if you’re gonna kill a bunch of people you might as well…have some fun with it

Aurora putting a face mask on-I feel like you have baseball cards of this man.

Cirrus-I absolutely do not. Do they make serial killer baseball cards though?

Phantom-if they if they did you would probably own them.

Cirrus-You would own them in a heartbeat

Phantom-no I think you would own them too.

Cirrus-You’d be like “I’ll trade you a gacy for a zodiac”

ghouligans-(wheeze)

————————————————————————

All the ghouls gathered in the kitchen with the lights off because the ghouligans are trying to show of evidence of ghosts

Swiss-We are in the kitchen!

Cirrus pointing at a turned off flashlight-please turn the light on for us

Rain absolutely tariffed-please don’t. Please don’t do it

Aurora in a silly voice-ghostie?

Rain-Stop calling it that

Aurora looking at rain with a smirk-ghostie!

Rain-Stop it! Stop talking to it.

Aurora-No I just want to talk to the ghost!

Swiss slinging his arm around auroras shoulders-we met a pall named papa copia he told us not to talk to you but I think you guys are swell.

Flash back of when the ghouligans got in trouble for harassing the ghost

Copia tired of everyone’s bullshit-I would do nothing to invite them to some how show themselves or taunt them in any way

The ghouligans not paying attention- yes papa

[wannab-urs]

You Have Me In a Chokehold | Mr. Ben (SNL) x teacher!reader | 18+

Summary: You’re a teacher at Mr. Ben’s school and you’re sitting in the “No More Fancams” assembly freaking out because he just showed your fancam on screen… Do you think he knows it was you? (AU where he’s not in love with Ms. Jenny, the assembly just ends with him being like “please don’t do this anymore, thanks”)

WC: 2.4k

Warnings: MDNI | 18+ | SMUT | no ages implied (all legal obvi), hair pulling, sir kink, very mild degrading language, fingering, unprotected PiV (don’t be silly, wrap your willy) (also y’all are teachers, you should know better), rough-ish sex but no one gets hurt, Mr. Ben is girthy (Big Ben ;) ), brief mention of the picture of dorian gray, which deserves its own warning if you’ve ever tried to teach that book to teenagers, extreme cringe in the first half. Gets weirdly fluffy at the end so if that kills your vibe just stop reading after the uhhhh climax of the story (if you catch my drift). Sorry we support aftercare in this house. I think that’s it, love y’all, enjoy! 

It’s 8 in the morning, supposed to be first period, and the principal has called for some technology assembly. You’re unlucky enough to have first period planning, you have essays to grade, and you won’t have a spare minute for the rest of the day. But sure, let’s all go sit in the gym so the boomers can lecture the zoomers about technology use. This is a great use of everyone’s time. 

You slip into the auditorium with 5 minutes to spare, hoping to go unnoticed in the back row. You’re just about to subtly put in your airpods and watch TikToks like 90% of the students, when you hear the principal introduce Mr. Ben. This assembly suddenly became worth paying attention to. 

Ben is by far the prettiest thing to look at in this school. He’s ridiculously broad chested, always wearing these just-shy-of-too-tight button ups that he pairs with definitely-a-little-too-tight pants, accentuating his cute butt. He has toned forearms, usually peeking out of rolled up sleeves, and huge hands that he waves around in the air or clasps in front of him when he speaks. And then, despite being this big, broad, powerful looking man, he has the sweetest face. 

His eyes are soft brown, hooded and turned down a little, so he’s basically making puppy dog eyes constantly. His nose is prominent and curved and sitting above the most adorably pouty lips. His facial hair is sparse and a little patchy, but honestly it just makes him even more charming. God, you have it so bad for this man. 

Your internal drooling over Ben is interrupted by the sound of a freshman at the front of the room yelling, “Come on guuurrrrl, eat it up!” Your eyes flick to the screen beside Ben. There are two very vague tech rules followed by… Shit. 

“Do not make fancams of school staff, such as this,” says Ben, gesturing at the screen. And your stomach does a somersalt. Shit! There’s a TikTok playing on the screen, and though you can’t quite make out the username, you definitely recognize the video. That’s your fancam. And Ben looks… mortified. He looks extremely uncomfortable. 

“You have made thousands of fancams of me and i’m not sure what they mean, but I know it has to stop,” he pleads. And fuck is he looking at you? He can’t know can he? There’s absolutely no way he knows. He’s just looking out toward the back of the auditorium. Yeah. You wouldn’t want to make eye contact with a bunch of 14 years olds while pictures of you flash on the screen either. That makes perfect sense. 

“We make them because you’re our beloved and you have us a in a chokehold,” screams another student toward the front. You wish he would put you in a chokehold. GOD what is wrong with you. Pull yourself together.

“Okay, don’t say that,” Ben says, wringing his hands together in front of him. You can see that he’s clearly uncomfortable. You should delete your account. Ban him from your thoughts. You’ve crossed the line big time.

“I just don’t understand. Why do you make sparkly fast romantic montages of me every single day?” he asks. Another fancam, thankfully not yours, begins playing on the screen. You have to get out of here. 

You stand up and try to sneak out as inconspicuously as possible, whispering “Bathroom,” in response to a disapproving look from another, older teacher. 

You break into a run as soon as you get into the hall and only slow down when you’re safely locked in the handicap stall of the teacher bathroom. You slide down the wall to the floor and press your face into your hands. You are so stupid. Of course making fancams of school staff is a bad idea. It’s bad when the kids do it… and really weird because they’re kids… but when another teacher does it? He could have you fired for this. 

But he doesn’t know. There’s no way he knows. 

You manage to make it through the rest of the day, somehow facing your classes and teaching them about nouns and reading a bit more of The Picture of Dorian Gray aloud. 

It’s finally the end of the day, but you still have those essays to grade, so you decide to set a timer for one hour and power through as many as you can. The school is so weirdly silent this long after final bell. The custodians won’t be in for another couple hours and pretty much every teacher and student has long gone home. 

You finish packing your tote bag and start shrugging on your coat when you hear a knock at the door. “Come in!” 

You freeze when the door opens. Shit.

“Ben! Hi! How can I help you? I was just leaving, but-” the sharp sound of the door slamming shut cuts off your nervous rambling. Ben stands with his hands behind his back, puffing his very broad chest out. 

“I was wondering if you could tell me something, sweetheart.” His voice is low, gravelly, and you feel like you’re being raked over hot coals. He knows. 

“Um. Sure?” you squeak out. Your face is on fire and you have no idea what to do with your hands. He takes a step toward you, looking for all the world like a predator stalking it’s pray. His eyes are dark, brow lowered, lips set in a hard line. He looks nothing like the shy, uncomfortable man from the assembly. 

Your bag drops to the floor and you take a stuttering step back toward your desk. 

“What’s your TikTok username?” he asks slowly, taking another step toward you. 

You gulp and fall back another step, thighs pressing against your desk now. Your shake your head and glue your eyes to the floor. 

“Don’t make me ask again.” And oh god he’s right in front of you now. He hooks a finger under your chin, bringing your eyes up to meet his. His pupils are blown so wide, you can barely see his usually warm brown irises. Wait is he turned on right now? 

“It’s- uh… I don’t have one!” you stammer out. You try to look away, but his fingers hold your chin in place. He leans a bit closer, his breath ghosting over your face, and presses his other palm into the desk beside you. He tsks and presses his thumb to your bottom lip.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growls out, and oh that went straight to your core. You squirm in his hold and that’s when you truly realize how close he is. His body is nearly pressed against yours. 

“It’s- it’s… fuck. It’s MrBensLittleSlut…” you stammer out. You feel like you’re on fire, ashamed of your actions, but also incredibly fucking turned on. The object of your not-so-innocent crush has you pressed against your desk like some school girl fantasy. 

“And do you really want to be my little slut, sweetheart?” Holy. Shit. Did he really just ask you that? Your heart actually stops beating in your chest for a second. You nod. 

“Aloud, please.” 

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. 

He brings one hand to the back of your head and wraps your hair around his fingers, pulling your head back slightly. You whimper and he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. 

“Good girl,” he purrs. And you think you’ll melt into puddle on the spot. His hands slide to your hips and he lifts you up onto the edge of the desk. You instinctively part your legs and he presses himself flush against you. He keeps one hand on your waist to steady you and slides the other back up into your hair and suddenly his lips are on yours. 

It’s sloppy and open mouthed and greedy. He licks into your mouth, curling his tongue around yours. Your hands find purchase around his biceps and you hold on for dear life. His fist tightens in your hair and you moan wantonly, throwing your head back and pushing your hips up into his, chasing friction. 

His lips trail down your jaw and he nips at your earlobe before sucking a kiss to the spot where your jaw meets your throat. You dig your nails into his muscular arms and choke on a gasp. 

“Please,” you whine, shifting your hips against him again.

“Please what, sweetheart?” you can feel him smirking into the skin of your throat. He loves how riled up you are. Loves watching you try and fail to grind yourself on him. 

“Please- please touch me, sir,” he rolls his hips into yours, finally giving you something. Anything to ease the burning desire between your legs.

“You’re so pretty when you beg,” he growls in your ear. Then you feel his right hand leave your waist and pull up your skirt. He drags his fingertips up the inside of your left thigh, featherlight. Finally, he hooks two fingers into the soaked crotch of your panties and drags his knuckles across your clit. 

You suck in a gasp and a little “Oh” falls from your lips. He pulls back, keeping his left hand in your hair and watches as he slowly sinks two fingers into your cunt, down to the knuckle. Your hands ball up into fists, twisting the sleeves of his shirt and you let out a long, breathy moan. 

“You’re so wet for me already, sweetheart. Really are a little slut, aren’t you?” Your pussy clenches around his thick fingers at his words.

“Yes! Yes, I’m your little slut!” you gasp out.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, hooking them just right so that he hits the spongy spot inside you every time. You’re holding onto his shirt so tight you think you might rip the sleeves off. You can hear how wet you are, the sound echoing off the cinderblock walls. You start moving your hips to meet the thrust of his fingers inside you, chasing your orgasm. 

“I’m-- I’m gonna--” you clench hard around his fingers, so close to tipping over the edge.

And then his touch is gone. He’s pulled his fingers out of you and let go of you completely, taking a step back. You let out an actual scream of frustration. “No!” you shout, slumping back until your head hits your desk. You actually pout at him.

“Not yet, sweetheart. Want you to come on my cock.” His voice is so low, you almost can’t hear him over the sound of your heaving breaths. “Sit up, pretty girl.”

You push yourself back up and take in his appearance. Other than his rumpled shirt, he looks completely unbothered. His hair is still effortlessly tousled, his face is set into a teasing smirk. The fucker didn’t even break a sweat and you’re gasping for breath like a fish out of water. Pretty girl. He called you pretty.

“Bend over the desk, sweetheart.” 

You scramble to obey his request, standing up and bending over, pushing your ass into the air. You press your forehead into the desk and try to calm your fluttering heart rate. 

Suddenly… finally… you feel his hands on you. He grabs your skirt and bunches it up around your waist. His fingertips slide into the waistband of your panties and he pushes them down, letting them settle around your ankles. You hear the clink of a belt buckle, the tug of a zipper, and then you feel him. 

He slides his cock between your clenched thighs, through the wet folds of your pussy and oh god. You can’t see him, but you can feel that he’s thick. The head of his cock presses against your clit and you moan. 

“Such a pretty little pussy… I’m going to ruin it.” You gasp, but before you can respond, he’s moving. In one fluid motion, he pulls back, kicks your feet apart, and pushes all the way into you. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan out. You might pass out from pleasure. His cock is thick, filling you up and stretching you out more than you ever have been before. He holds still inside you while you clench and unclench around his girth, trying to get used to it. “So big.” you gasp into the desk. 

“I know, baby.” And then he moves, pulling all the way out to the tip and thrusting hard, all the way back in. The force of his hips smacking against your ass jolts you into the desk, making you cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain and sprawl forward on the desk. 

Ben grabs your shoulder with one hand, tightens his grip on your hip with the other, and resumes fucking into you at an absolutely brutal pace. 

Some part of you is scared you’ll get caught, but that part is overpowered by the euphoria you feel. You’re moaning and babbling incoherently as his cock hits that sweet spot deep inside you and grinds into it with every thrust. 

“Is my. Little. Slut. Gonna. Come. on my. Cock?” Ben grits out between thrusts. 

You cry out a garbled response. Your cunt is fluttering around his thick length and your eyes are rolling into the back of your head and there’s no way you can form words right now. 

Ben wraps his arm around your chest and pulls you back against him. His cock hits something deep inside you and you come with an agonizing cry, gushing around his cock and soaking him to the base. 

Your whole body goes limp with the force of your orgasm, but he holds you up and continues fucking up into you. After a few more thrusts, he pulls out and covers your ass and thighs in his release, letting out a low groan as the thick ropes hit your skin. 

You’re lying on the desk on your stomach, naked ass still in the air. It’s a ridiculous position to lay in, but you’re still riding the high of your orgasm and too blissed out to care. You jolt as you feel silk move across your over-sensitive skin. 

“What’re you doing?” You’re so drunk on his cock, it comes out slurred.

“Cleaning you up, sweetheart,” Ben says. Is he- he’s cleaning you up with his tie. Fuck that’s hot. And sweet? 

“Thank you…” you sigh into the desk. He pulls your panties back up for you and settles your skirt back down around your legs.

“Can you sit up for me, baby?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to your feet, nestling your head into the curve of his shoulder.

It’s not fair for him to fuck you that good and go right to being the sweet, bashful man you thought you knew. 

He brushes your hair out of your face and presses a soft, almost tender, kiss to your nose. You giggle and the sound makes him break out into a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his dimple peeking out behind a 5 o’clock shadow. 

“Come on, sweetheart, I’ll walk you to your car.” 

He grabs your coat and your tote bag, slips his hand into yours, and leads you out to the parking lot.

a/n: I’m so sorry. This is ridiculous and I apologize for the no plot snl character porn fic. 

Tags: @beskarandblasters @meveispunk

[seasonschange32]

I'm trying to watch Athena P lore videos because god are they entertaining and so funny. But here's some shows/movies I would love a lore deep dive on and why:

Inspector gadget reboot - the 'romance' between penny and Talon was so confusing yet endearing. Also, loving how chief Quimby just Disguises himself just to give gadget a misson

Total drama - not only was it a huge fan of gross out humor and has our overlord chris mclain, it literally introduced me to the ' bad boy x good girl' trope before ripping it out and taking a character ( who was literally perfect with another) and forcing them together due to aesthetics.

Transformers: robots in Disguise ( 2015) or Transformers prime - two shows that have fanbases debating ( seriously), each saying why each respective show is better. But other than that, both are fine for what they are and gave me two crushes that I hold dearly.

Mia and me - a fairy show that's not only animated but live action? With the main character having an ability to talk to unicorns? And with one of her bullies DISCOVERING HER SECRET LIFE??

Ben and hollies little kingdom - super wholesome and I love how the humans coinside with the fairies

Max and ruby - there's a tiktoker who made a whole series on why ruby was annoying. Need I say more?

Trollhunters and the spin off 3below - honestly from what I remember, I loved the stakes of the show and how cool the Armour the main character had. Regarding the spin off, loving how the bully I think was into the alien girl

Max steel ( not the 2000s one. sorry) - Max having to come up with the most unbelievable excuses as to why he has to go is cliche but also kind of funny? And the fact that the company Max's dad works for has lore as well is kind of interesting

Dino squad - I actually remembered this show through a cringe compilation of all things and had to add it. From the theme song, to the plotines, to the fact that I had a crush on Laruzo even though he was obviously queer coded ( his Dino form was cool though)

Jem and the holograms - the I am a giant song from the misfits lives in my head rent free. Also, jem practicing trying to reveal to that one guy only from him to yell at her is funny to me

Lolirock - same with jem as revolution is iconic as well as the villians. Plus, why is was eventually taken off

The tinker bell movies - forgot I was supposed to mention movies as well ( sorry). But I love them and how the fairies each have their own abilities ( as well as different kinds). From pirate fairies to winter fairies, it's really cool.

Barbie: a fashion fairytale - I love all barbie movies equally but this...this just takes the cake. What other movie will you see ken making a child cry, fairies with attitude, rotting dresses, and a roller skating aunt?

Zoom (2015) - the trailer showing a scene of the main character and her character arguing is honestly what made me want to watch it ( I haven't but I'm planning on it)

Super hero squad - kid me was laughing my butt off when falcon married his bird. So...

The little prince movie - I didn't even read the book but when I saw that the old man had died, I was emotionally devastated, especially after listening to all his stories which inspired the main character to go find the prince UGHHH

The book of life - is it cliche? Yes. Is it like coco? Yes. Do I like that in the end, the main boy has to sing a guitar version of creep to calm down a bull? Absolutely yes!

Epic - josh hutcherson, beyonce, Amanda Seyfried, Johnny knoxville, an enemies to lovers storyline, a snail, a royal guard having a love for the queen, the enemies being bugs, and ANDD a nerdy dad. That's it.

Rise of the guardians - I absolutely love it followed jack and his arc of being seen and when he finally is, the kid and him are just so excited! Also, the fact that a lot of people are simping for the Easter bunny is a testament to how many people will call anyone sexy.

Daniel spellbound - wanted to add this because there's an awesome creator ( cough cough @bonkalore) who's made an amazing au out of this show and I wanted to see what you thought of it and your theories

Bonus options ( just random one's I think could fit): the rainbow fairies series, Lego friends, the complicated life of Claudia Christina Cortez, sonic underground, drama or sisters ( but any book by rainia would be great), Junie b Jones, stoked, barney, goddess girls, glitter force ( that's what I remember it as), invisible sister, a monster in Paris, Maya and miguel, and Martha)

If you want anymore, let me know!

[steakout-05]

OK SO THE TRAILER FOR THE NEW GARF MOVIE CAME OUT (and of course youtube didnt tell me about it until now) AND!!! ITS SO CUTE!!!!!! so here's me yelling and screaming and fanboying about how much i love how this movie looks so far :D

ok first off, BABY GARF!!! HE IS A TINY BALL!!! LITTOL GUY!!!! :D

he's so miniscule! so microscopic! an atom! he's tiny!!! but he's just living in a box who would abandon such a little guy :( (his dad probably. yeah he's in this movie and i hope Garfield's mum is also in here because she appeared in a classic Garfield special and she's so lovely)

after this scene we see our first look at Jon (my beloved) eating alone at an Italian restaurant, and like, this means so much to me. look at these shots:

i'm not sure if they're in order or not but like. look at the way he watches the family! he has a look of bittersweet love and sadness in his eyes and i'm just,,, 🥺 he just wants to be a dad.... i love how Jon has always kinda been portrayed as a father figure to his pets, in classic shows and specials he calls Garf and Odie his boys, in Garfield Gets Real he calls them his kids and now here, he wants to be a father so bad i'm going to burst into tears i love this man

the garf appears!! the littol baby has arrived!! the tiny little miniscule microscopic molecule atom of a cat has approached the window!!!

the way Jon puts his finger to the window, the way he cuddles baby Garf with so much tender loving care and adoration..... he's so sweet i love him!! how can people hate this man?? look at him!!! look this sweet and loving father figure in the eyes and tell him you hate him. you cannot. he's too pure for this world

also i haven't mentioned this yet, but it's commonly accepted in the Garfield fandom that Garfield was born in a pizza shop and then was transferred to a pet shop where Jon then adopted Garfield in 1978, but to be honest, i didn't really like the pet shop part of that backstory. the pizza place part was great but i dunno, Jon just going to a pet shop and buying Garfield isn't as heartfelt to me. this backstory though? i LOVE. two lonely creatures meeting each other and forming a family is so adorable and sweet, especially for modern Garfield. i feel like we need less cynicism in modern Garfield and more stuff like this i love it so much,,, also this movie looks fucking beautiful holy shit

i really like this part because like, Garfield didn't develop his bizarrely huge diet over time. dude was BORN with it. and like look at that look on Jon's face, he looks like he hasn't even finished processing what just happened yet and is just staring into the mist wondering what and how and why that happened. beautiful. also that second image is really funny to me it should have a silly ominous text post caption on it

also this shot, i didn't notice it the first time but holy shit the look of absolute HORROR on Jon's face!! he is witnessing the TRUE extent of Garfield's powers and he is NOT ready for it man i love this shot so much

okok so what i REALLY LOVE about this specific shot is that it reminds me of a classic Garfield strip where Jon is attempting to give Garfield a bath!! here's the strip it reminds me of:

Jon doesn't actually wear anything but like. the fact that he has to go through so much preparation to give Garfield a bath so he doesn't claw him up in the movie, it just has to be a reference to this strip it's gotta be man i'm betting money on it. also hiii Lyman :)

this scene is so fucking pretty!!! look at the warm colours! it feels so homely and it's exactly how i feel reading my dad's old Garfield comic books! all the warm bright colours and gentle lighting, all the freshly baked lasagna that i really wanna eat because it's so delicious looking.... how can people say that Jon doesn't feed Garfield when he is RIGHT THERE grating extra cheese for him because he knows Garfield likes extra everything in his lasagna. such a sweet adorable man :') i'd like to see ihatejonarbuckle make a good rebuttal to THIS

there's some other neat little references in this movie too, like the Stuck On You plushies made by Dakin being referenced with Garfield smacking into a car after his dad throws him out of a train,

and a reference to the giant Garfield balloon at a Macy's Thanksgiving parade that makes me think that 'Garfield' the comic is canon in this movie, it's created by Jon (cause y'know he's supposed to be a cartoonist) and it's based off his own stories with Garfield and it is now an international phenomenon like in our world. neat!

the question is though, does Garfield know he's a worldwide sensation or does he have absolutely no idea? it'd be funny if it was the latter option honestly cause he'd be extremely confused yet flattered as to why there's a random giant balloon dedicated to him in the city

so the big dude on the left is Garfield's dad, but also, this reminds me of this other Garfield comic where Garfield meets his former self from 1978 and they proceed to eat all the food in the fridge together. thought that was cool :D

(it'd be really funny if this was Garfield's dad and he was messing with Garfield by telling him they are one in the same haha)

oh yeah and here's the two of them eating everything in Jon's fridge from the movie:

see what i mean? there's a similarity there and i think it's really funny. also Jon's probably thinking "wtf there's two of them now???" like Garfield got so fat that he just split into two cats or something lol

so! does it look like a good movie? abso-fucking-lutely yes!!! i am SO excited to go see this one! i think this is the best Garfield media we've gotten in YEARS! i love the colours and the shots, i love the slight modern redesign they gave Jon, Odie looks a little weird but he's still super fun and adorable, and while i do find it odd that the Garfield balloon looks more like Garfield than he does, i do like how expressive the characters' eyes are and it's miles better than the previous 3D Garfs we got! i really wanna see this movie and boy am i going to be RAVING about it for WEEKS this blog will be FILLED with Garfield for the next few weeks when this goes digital!! super jazzed to see it!!

and with that, here's one more comparison that i think is extremely funny: