#your honor they’re very important to me 🥺

[gaycrittercentral]

HELLO DEAR if you're still taking prompts i would love to see the gremlins and "kisses to shut them up" LMAO..... i imagine they both do this quite a lot they're idiots supréme ahsgskfgh <33

EEEEEE HI MOON sorry for the long wait for this one!! Now that all the holidays and birthdays at my house are pretty much over I finally have time to sketch up some answers for some asks that have been waiting way too long and I’m so happy to get yours out there first!!! :Dc here it is myehehheeeh this was an extremely fitting prompt

Sam knows exactly what tf he’s doing lmaooooo. Probably it just backfires on Max bc Sam decides to sing something even sappier hhflzjgkhsjdhssbjffhbd

[gaywarcriminals]

hi fish! i’m not sure if you multiship yqy but you are the yue qingyuan expert imo and i’m very curious to know your thoughts on tlj and yqy as a ship? maybe in a post canon world? i know he doesn’t need romance to be happy but… idk i’m haunted after reading your Trellis fic and can’t help but want someone to Pursue that sopping wet puppy man!! 🥺🤲 holds him gently

Aww, I’m honored to be considered a YQY expert 🥺 I will strive to be worthy of this title. 

I do multipship YQY (at least in theory. I’m picky about it), but tianyue is a NOTP for me! I understand the desire to shove two guys with a similar life experience together, and for that I really like the potential in their platonic dynamic (ex: YQY tolerating TLJ’s TLJ-ness because this is the one person he can talk to who Gets It), plus there’s the drama of YQY being at TLJ’s sealing and almost seeming to regret/think poorly of it, but I don’t multiship TLJ (Tianxi 4ever), and I haven’t personally found any grounds for tianyue romantic chemistry that compel me. 

As you alluded to, I also have a sort of philosophical disagreement with the idea of pairing up the two sad divorced widowers because they’re both single at the end of the story. Trellis is in part about my issues with romance as a moral imperative for happiness— as an aroace person I’m not a big fan of the idea that someone needs to get into a relationship to be happy, or to move on/get over someone. Platonic relationships are just as important, and I really really love the idea of YQY being supported by his found family martial siblings (if I hadn't been trying to get the fic done in time for YQYweekend, I would have added WQW and SQH too! I’m really happy with the final product as-is though). 

I don’t think post-canon, and specifically post-Trellis YQY needs a relationship to be happy because YQY has 11 people on the mountain who care a deeply for their Zhangmen-shixiong. I’m sure he also has many devoted disciples; there’s no shortage of people who want to love YQY if he would just let them in more. I headcanon that YQY didn’t really have friends pre-canon because he held everyone at a polite distance, so my goals for post-canon are often just to give him richer friendships. I think that’s what he really needs to heal and grow. 

[definitelynotshouting]

Hello I’m here!!

Raaah I meant to talk about the latest chapter sooner but I kept forgetting :,))

But anyway! This chapter really hit home for me and I really resonate with Grian, and I feel so SO scared for him at the same time. The idea that he’s so dead set on hurting himself so badly and mumbo has no idea - along with the rest of the hermits - is very scary, and very effective.

And the fact that they’ve already witnessed him trying to hurt himself in such a way and they’re all trying to cope with that is so. It’s so good. The way you show how each person is dealing with Grian’s attempt is so good because you’re showing them all experiencing different forms of grief.

Mumbo yelled because he was afraid. Tango is trying to help Grian any time he can. Scar is trying to make him laugh. X is dead set on finding a way to save him. Pearl is upset with him. It’s such a good way of showing that grief can manifest in so many different ways, and no one is perfect- they do things like yell because they’re scared, or overstep because they want to help. No one prepares you for grief, and you do an amazing job of showing that.

I can’t express how badly I want to hold Grian’s hand. To me he feels like such a lost soul that feels there’s no hope for him. I have so much sympathy for this depiction of him.

It feels so.. “doomsday” to me?? If that makes sense? The way Grian talks about wanting to go outside and experience the sun and the grass and the sky for one last time before he leaves for good. I feel the bittersweet feeling he must be feeling; not wanting to hurt his friends’ feelings but simultaneously feeling like there’s no other option for him and he just has to do this, so he wants to have a good last day.

It pains my heart so much but in a good way- this is all extremely /pos I cannot express that enough. I think it’s so impressive that you’re able to capture such intense feelings through writing- that’s seriously incredible and if what I’m feeling when reading your story is what you’re after; you’re doing an amazing job!

Ok, I don’t want to overwhelm you so I’ll stop there- but needless to say I’m super excited to see where this story goes and I hope you’re doing well <3

- binge reader

BINGER READER ANON MY HEART....... ohhh this is such a sweet ask and im so unwell abt it /pos

Words cannot express how happy i am that you're resonating so hard with my fic 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 i feel so honored to be touching people's lives with this, i literally dont know how to articulate how much messages like these mean to me. And im just!!!! So pleased that you like what im doing with all these varying depictions of grief!!! From the start i truly wanted to explore different reactions and what i felt these characters would do when placed in such a fraught and urgent situation, and im indescribably glad im hitting the mark on what ive been aiming for.

Its been really enriching for me to explore all these myriad reactions to grief; i remember when i first wrote Mumbo in chapter 3, i was a bit worried about the potential reception-- but it felt so right to let him express his fear through anger. And with Pearl, ive loved taking a deep dive into her own fear and trauma and letting it play out in front of Grian during this situation. Literally everyone is so fun to dive into for all the reasons you've said-- Tango is in fix-it mode, Xisuma is pinning all his efforts on one desperate hope, and Scar is deflecting and trying to buy as much time as possible just to keep Grian alive a little longer. Their various reactions are so important to me, especially in how, like you said, nothing truly prepares you for grief-- and it often manifests in unconventional ways. Its been a real treat to depict that, and its something that i feel has some overlooked merit in the emotional realism department that im glad im able to bring to the table

Im truly so touched by this commentary, so don't worry about overwhelming me!!! Im just so genuinely happy people are getting so much out of my writing, its all ive wanted for such a long time, and finally being able to really reach people with it is a dream come true❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[bloodbruise]

hiii! firstly, i just wanna say that i admire your writing and the way you use imagery to cast certain moods for different stories. i think in your past life you were some great poet, like homer lol! i am a baby to tumblr, but ive been wondering about posting my own takes on certain topics. i wanted to ask how you started writing and posting regul(us)arly, without getting embarrassed or discouraged!

(ps-thank u for being u🩵)

this is !!! so incredibly kind of you wow 🥺🥺 i’m floored. to even be mentioned in the same breath as a poet, let alone homer, is an honor. though if we're measuring by a 'homer scale,' i'd place my writing abilities closer to homer simpson than the poet.

if i am being completely honest, i really started posting because i was searching for a queer community. i grew up in a major city and still have a great one there, but i moved to a smaller city to go to a really STEM oriented, cutthroat school—where all connections are really just for career advancement. i basically looked back and realized that i had spent the last four years with my head shoved so far up a book that i was really suffering without that community. i also knew i was gonna have to start writing my personal statement for med school soon. writing is my weakest skill, and the only writing i'd been doing was scientific IRMaD papers for school, so i wanted to force myself to practice. what better way than through something i already loved and engaged with consistently: fanfiction.

when I first started posting my writing, it was definitely intimidating. i had moments when i overthought, got embarrassed, and quickly deleted posts. but i learned that it is just part of the process of finding your space in fandom. you’re inevitably going to stumble a bit, you’re gonna hit some zero note posts, and yeah, it can be discouraging. i think its really naive when people say “oh, just post for yourself, who cares if you get no interactions with it.” because honestly, if we were ONLY writing for ourselves, we'd just keep everything in our google docs, right? a big part of the joy in fanfiction is connecting with the community. 

but you also cant let that hold you back. what always keeps me going is the enjoyment i get from crafting stories—writing things that i wanted to read or the characters i wanted to see (i love horror and medicine. i literally threw them together to make my evan. and i would be nothing without my unsettling, ethically questionable, freak medical malpractitioner). so it is so, so important to stay true to your own vision. if you see barty with neon purple hair, write him that way. if your remus is a pretty pretty princess, embrace it. they’re your stories. and if anyone tells you otherwise, they can fuck themselves.

so i would say keep posting and interacting with other people, your favorite authors, friends, followers. as you continue, your confidence will grow, and your audience will find you. be patient with yourself and push through the doubts. it's all about finding your voice and enjoying the process! 

please feel free to tag/send me when you do start sharing your writing! i would be happy to read it :)) and i also wanted to thank YOU for being you because you are so very kind and you put a huge smile on my face ❤️❤️❤️

[sundownsquad]

Second Anniversary Asks #4 — @twisted-falcon

Q: Who’s the best at work with/training the ottas?

Kess: Knox. Nitsani: Knox! Drums: Knox is amazing with the ottas Speedy: yeah knox for sure Knox: Oh wow, thanks guys! I was about to say Nitsani 😂 Nitsani: Thanks! 😆 Being a Force sensitive certainly helps to connect with them, but Knox has a really cool talent for working with them and is so dedicated to their care and training! Drums: The ottas follow Knox around like little tooka kittens, they love him. We rarely have to put a lead on them because of it.  Kess: He also has a special bond with them since he was the one who bought them from that merchant. I honestly think they could tell how much he cared about them and they really latched onto him after that. Speedy: and knox understands the ottas behavior and thinking on a level i dont think i ever will Speedy: hes very intuitive actually Knox: Thanks guys 🥺 Drums: He spent a ton of time learning about the ottas when he got them, too. He’s basically a walking ottabura encyclopedia now. He can tell you absolutely anything about them. Knox: Yeah, Drums was nice enough to let me watch otta videos on the holo in our room every night for, like, two weeks straight. I had so much to catch up on. Ottas are surprisingly complicated critters, let me tell ya. Drums: All that energy and time was well spent, though. The training has gone super well even though none of us have done it before! Knox: So far I’ve only fallen off three times while riding, so I consider that a win lol Kess: In your defense, the ottas were still trying to figure out how to use their legs properly since they grow so fast. Two of those times were definitely because they were tripping over their own toes. Knox: Good point 😆 Knox: Also, I feel like Kess should get an honorable mention here for how he handles the ottas, too.  Knox: One time, we were trying to get the ottas tacked up but they were super wiggly for some reason. Drums and I were trying to get them to chill out but couldn’t get them to let go of that extra energy. Kess saw what was going on and nonchalantly says “Hey, kids.” All the ottas immediately stop what they’re doing to look at him and he just says “Time to work.” They all walked over, sat down in front of Drums and I and stuck their noses out so we could get their halters on. Knox: It’s important to note that we never trained them to do that. Drums: It’s the tonality Kess gets when he’s in sergeant mode. No one can ignore it. Kess: Except Speedy, apparently. Speedy: ✌🏽 Drums: But yeah, Knox is the best at training ottas. So if you need some otta advice, he's your guy.

[mochiwrites]

I LOVE YOUR WRITING OH MY GOSH MOCHI!!!! its so tender and soft and warm and theres so much loyalty and care and!!!!! AAAAAAA i love

SPARKS WHAT IF I STARTED CRYING AT YOU????

WAILS REAL LOUD !!!!!! they love each other your honor,,,, the boys have been through So much and they get to heal together 🥺 I know we talked about it in dms but like !!! it was So important for me to really nail the tenderness and love in this one,,, the three of them have all been through so much pain and while I’m not at all trying to compare, scar and mumbo have had a few years on grian to process and start the healing process.

grian…. he probably doesn’t start his own healing process until he’s with scar, and in that warm and loving environment. and it was so important for me to really dig into that aspect of their trauma, especially for a fic celebrating the very existence of the au and SOBS,,,,,

they’re all so in love and care so much,,,, and there’s so much loyalty involved in their relationship. they just make me so

[kiirotoao]

S2 rewatch highlights!

(this is like my 7th time rewatching the show and I’m still finding things lmao)

Episode 1

Omg there are a lot of vans in this show, huh? Kali’s gang, Hopper’s police van, Argyle’s van lol

AWW Mews oh no baby

Dustin the mediator, calling all the boys haha

Will’s so tiny AHWGHGEHF 

Hop’s pretending to be clueless about Murray for El oh my heart 🥺

Also I feel like I had no idea what Murray was talking about but now in hindsight I do lmao

AWWWHAJHJHJ Joyce was sewing the Ghostbuster’s costume in the store I missed that OHIFHKD so sweet

OH Bob I miss him. I legit do. He made Joyce happy. :((((((

AWW Nancy already anticipates what Jonathan’s going to do on Halloween night!! Oh the sweet intimacy they’re learning about each other

Also HMMM a slight parallel as Nancy pushes Steve away to stop kissing her like Mike does to El in the beginning of s3?

“I don’t know. He’s quiet today.” MY BABY

OH that car ride with Joyce and Will hurts so much. Can we start a #hugsforWillByers or something I need it

“Peanut butter and chocolate, hard to beat that” - hold up, Owens, Reese’s Pieces are just peanut butter. (However, M&Ms are chocolate. And I wonder what Mike’s favorite candy is…)

Eulogy and Barb ahdjhfdhfjkdfd - and with Mike as he looks over at El’s hideout… my god Mike thinks she’s dead

HAAH I like how Dustin parks his bike like it’s a car

AWHHH it’s Jonathan’s night to pick but he lets Will pick - I bet he does that every time

Hmm I wonder why the Byers’ house interior wasn’t covered in vines when Will had that second vision. Was it always like that? Last we saw briefly in s1, the bathroom had vines. Maybe it’s just Henry being dramatic, but the inconsistency around the Byers’ house might be important? Idk

Episode 2

I wonder how in the world the gash in the chalkboard from the demogorgon was explained lol. Eh whatever, I’m sure the boys found some crazy excuse.

HOLY- Mike’s complicated grief just hit me. Like he saw her, he did, but it could have very well been a trick of the light as far as he knew, and so I really think he was going through depression here as he thought El was dead holy shit

OH the way that the slight scare of Will being gone got me - the emphasis of Joyce’s anxiety was really poignantly done here!!!

AWH Will being the mediator in The Party

Oh my gosh wow, I missed that Joyce took Will to Chicago. I can only imagine how many places she tried to go to help Will. Will must be so tired :(((((

AW Jopper in high school <3

Tell me why I look at Joyce and just want to cry. Every time this season. #hugsforJoyceByers too pLEASE

Oooo the light between Nancy and Steve in that private library room! It’s like they’re so close but so far, a light divides them and is ironically separating them despite being a “light” in between them

Lucas and Dustin are SO iconic omg, both of them made me guffaw this episode

HAHA AW Dustin warning the guys “don’t cross the streams” - reminds me of how Dustin yells at the random student “wear a helmet!” In s4 lol

Oh my heart. Bob doesn’t minimize Joyce’s feelings, and he thinks about her word and her worries, wanting to take her away from the town full of trauma. Just <33333

I literally have nothing to say about the crazy together scene other than they’re boyfriends, your honor. Literally this scene had me on their radar.

UGH Jonathan’s such a gentleman, taking off Nancy’s shoes

Interesting how Mike didn’t stay in the hideout! Did he not really see El??? Mike???

[dollwritesarchive]

I am so close to finishing this gift fic for you. I am just nervous cause it’s so frffdjsjsn long ughhh! But I won’t give up! Just answer me honestly.

What part of Levi do you love the most? HahahahahahHAHAHHAHA!! Sorry I am hyper as balls, trying to wrap this up by tomorrow.

Fricken watched all of AOT to write this xD baahhhhahaha. Your Reiner fic gave me a boost of energy xD

Seriouslyyyy tho, Levi Ackerman. His thighs are amazing, that scowl mmm. But what gets your gears groovin for the sexy captain?

XD sorry this is obnoxious as hell

HI BABY OMG WE NEED TO GIVE YOU A NICKNAME SO I KNOW ITS YOU!! ❤️ DONT BE NERVOUS IM SO EXCITED AND HONORED NO ONES EVER WRITTEN JUST ME A FIC AS A GIFT BEFORE 🥺🥺

Omg you watched ALL OF IT ?? :0 IM AMAZED YOU DID ALL THIS FOR ME I—

Levi is. He’s perfect. HES PERFECT.

HIS EYES ARE VERY IMPORTANT TO ME. Charcoal oceans that are as troubled and filled with rage as the wicked, frothing waves during a nighttime storm because I just KNOW when he looks at you, they clear up. The clouds all flea and whats left is an endless, twinkling night sky that you could happily get lost in

I ALSO ADORE HIS THIGHS OBVIOUSLY ( jumping from dreamy mode to horny mode FAST QUICK AND IN A HURRY) they’re surprisingly thick and padded with firm muscles even though he’s more lithe

AND I LOVE A GOOD TSUNDERE SO I DO 🫶🏻 LOVE THAT HES JUST A LITTLE BIT COLD AND BLUNT AND MEAN

His — his scars 🥵🥵

AND THE SHARPNESS OF HIS JAW

And the gruffness in his voice when he barks at the recruits

HAHHA IM SO FERAL ALEXA PLAY THERE GOES MY BABY

[celestianstars]

Ok wow ahh! In love with this start already!!

So many neat details here and I just love how easily they fall into this thing with each other despite it being different and new for both of them! ❤️ @wyn-n-tonic also incredibly relatable as someone who works in healthcare like ahh yes I feel you on some of these things Alison! Which I mean, she’s so cool it’s so clear why Joel came back to see her! I have so many thoughts so forgive me if this is long!!

Really love that Alison doesn’t take shit from doctors and puts her foot down when needed, that’s such an important thing!

So much of your writing feels so real and I really appreciate that! Her mentioning that she learned of a patient not making it and questioning why she still does the job was so relatable, I work in surgery and often times I don’t find out what happens after the patients I see leave the OR but every now and then if I’m working with the surgeon who did their operation I’ll hear how they’re doing and it’s never easy finding out someone passed, it’s those kinds of very stark moments amongst the routine chaos that you’ve sprinkled throughout this that make it so cool to me!

And ahh Alison’s first meeting with Joel! How funny and very cute that she didn’t immediately see much that was attractive about him with his face all fucked up, also honorable mentions to Tommy being Tommy lol I love the bits of his and Joel’s relationship here!! But Alison and Joel’s banter!!! Yeah that shit was so cute and so sweet and him using “sweetheart” made me melt, I don’t blame her for being like ohhhh you know!

This line from Joel about Sarah also made me go 🥺 because wow why is he soooo dilf boyfriend material! “but I’d break my back to give her the world.” best dad! And what he said about the date with Alison being important to him that he bribed Tommy with alcohol to babysit her…I love him sm

It’s just the way you show how caring he is, how he understands that Alison has a hectic job, the simple action of him bringing her coffee, and bringing her food too ahhh like yeah that would have worked on me too! Give me fries and I’m yours tbh! He’s just so genuinely sweet with her and it kills me! I really like that he got a bit nervous on their date too but then that confidence comes back when she speaks and he learns something else about her, I just love how at ease they feel with each other

That kiss! Yeah 🥺💕 and you described that feeling of just feeling seen by someone, like they’ve always been there or been in your life, this is such a beautiful thing that’s building between them and that final line being from Alison is such a nice touch, she’s giving him a chance!

Such a solid and great start to this series and I’m really excited to see where things go in the months ahead! Which also can I just say I love how you’ve structured this by months, I’m sure that’s a lot to try and keep straight as you write but you’re doing amazing so far, I loved every part of reading this first part! 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Days of You & Me: January

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC!Alison Murphy Word Count: 7.0k+ Warnings: Descriptions of death/injury (OFC is a nurse). Awkward turtle Joel. Little shit baby brother Tommy. Author's Note: Sitting on my hands has been so so so difficult but I'm so glad that I did. I've been working for a couple of weeks on this story now. If I tag too many people, this won't show up in the tags but such a huge thank you to everybody has encouraged me and proofread and helped me edit. It means so much and I love you so much. Please follow @wyn-writing and turn on updates (if you want to) for notifications on this story. If you follow the link to the series masterlist, you can access the playlist.

Days of You & Me Masterlist

January 4, 2003:

Only an hour left in this bright light bullshit.

God, maybe two. Maybe more.

Lost count to quitting time somewhere around the third car wreck that made its way through the emergency room doors. Another pileup somewhere on I-71 because Texans can’t drive in the best of weather, and rain really makes a fool out of them.

Freeze the rain and it gets worse. 

So many needless deaths today. Screw the paperwork that comes with it; that’s nothing but typing notes into the computer and calling it a day. I can handle that. It’s when the light goes out behind somebody’s eyes that chips away at my soul. If I didn’t believe in something and a balance, something far bigger than myself, then I would’ve slipped away with all those souls a long time ago, too.

But God, I need a fucking break.

“Murphy,” a voice over my shoulder, “you busy?”

“I don’t know, Andrea, do I look busy?”

“Less busy,” she responds, placing a hand on my shoulder, “and more like hell. How you holding up?”

Let’s see, I’ve only been able to piss once today while simultaneously being on my eighth cup of coffee and the only food I’ve had is half a cinnamon roll so��� "Just fantastic, Drea.” Looking up at her and her sympathetic smile, I immediately regret it. “I'm being a bitch, Andrea, I’m real sorry.” 

“No apologies, it’s been a day. That’s why I figured you’d want the handsome gentleman that just came in.” She winks conspiratorially. “No wedding ring.”

A laugh barely passes my lips. Andrea’s the head nurse but she might as well be my mom with the way she’s constantly trying to set me up. Hell, the first time my mother visited and they met, the two of them couldn’t get over what a catch I am. Mom said my accent had changed enough after a decade, I should be pulling the cowboys in left and right. Drea agreed, even brought up my dimples and good humor.

“Depends. Is the handsome gentleman close to death? Because that seems to be the only thing I’m good for today.”

She shakes her head. “He needs stitches, not a grim reaper. Get him sorted and you can head on home, I’ll finish your notes.”

“But—“

She raises her hand to stop me. “Don't argue with me, I’m handing you a hot guy and a break. Go!”

There’s another reason to believe there’s something else calling the shots out there—I have Andrea. And if nobody else hears my prayers, I know she does.

Miller, Joel. The chart is bare bones chicken scratch; a name and height, birthdate, blood pressure, description of injury—gash across nose—and the recommended treatment. 

"This is bullshit, Tommy,” comes a deep, thickly accented voice behind the curtain. “We’ve been here for hours, I need to get home to Sarah.”

So much for no ring on his finger.

The other man—Tommy—says she’ll be alright and that she ordered a pizza. That’s a good fucking idea, actually. But as I pull the curtain back, I start to lose my appetite again.

Gash across nose was not an accurate descriptor. Large gash across nose would be more apt. Hell, it’s split so wide I’m curious how it’s even hanging on. Not quite sure where Andrea got handsome out of that; I can see it, maybe, but maybe she saw a thirty-one year old man without grays and figured that’d be good enough. 

Both men are looking at me like I’m the one with half a nose.

“Finally—“

“—you’re the doctor?” 

“I'm very sorry for your wait, Mr. Miller,” I address the man on the gurney and turn to the other while pulling on my gloves. “And, no, I’m not the doctor. We’re a little bit short handed today so I’m drawing all the straws on stitches. You’re welcome to wait longer,” I continue, turning back to Mr. Miller, “if a doctor is who you pref—“

“NO!” It comes out pretty gruff—a half angry bark—and he attempts to take a deep breath. “No,” he says again. “No, this is fine. Just put my face back together and we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Yeah, maybe you’ll do him a favor,” the other man says. “Actually make him good looking for once in his life.”

“Tommy, get the fuck out.” 

“Oh, he’s not bothering me, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel, please,” he says, wincing as I tip his head up to the light. “And he’s sure as shit agitating me. I’m sure you can tune out an asshole or two but I’ve been trying since this one was born so I don’t think you’ll have much luck.”

The other man takes his leave, says he’s gonna go update Sarah, and all tension drops from Joel’s shoulders. I finally see the handsome when he opens his eyes—big and brown, salt water building in the ducts at the corners. Magnetic and kind.

“Have they cleaned this yet, Joel?” 

“No, they put me in here and said somebody would be with me soon.” 

Every time I push his fingers away, they try to come back and I can tell he’s trying to resist temptation to hold himself together—literally—but he is failing. 

“And did you attempt to clean the wound at all?” I ask, finally smacking him across the hand like a toddler.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes out, “it’s a struggle just trying to keep my eyes open right now.” 

Sweetheart. I know he doesn’t mean anything by it, that’s just southern hospitality. But ten years in Texas and I’m still not used to it. Never had it light fire in my bones before either, though. “Fair enough,” I tell him, letting go to prepare an irrigation syringe to push the debris out of the wound. “So… did you lose or should I see the other guy?”

He huffs a laugh as I get to work, attempting to pull away when the water hits his nose. “Considering my fight was with a two by four, I think it’s safe to say I lost.” 

“Oh, please tell me it at least snapped in half. An eye for an eye and all that.”

Joel laughs again. “Fuck, I hope not. It’s Brazilian Olivewood, expensive as hell but so’s our client—and so is sitting in this damn cubicle. Let’s not lose me too much money today.”

Wound clear of debris, I put the syringe down and pluck the cotton pad out of the saline solution and start dabbing carefully at the dried blood crusted onto the edges of his broken skin. He keeps wanting to pull away, broad chest rigid and jaw set against the pain. “I can give you a numbing shot,” I tell him casually.

“That'll run me—what? A grand?”

“Round about,” I tell him. “Can you really put a price on comfort?”

“Yes,” he confirms. “Yes, I can. I don’t give a fuck about myself, I’ll take the pain. Now, if Sarah was the one sitting here…” He trails off. We both know how that sentiment would end but it’s almost like he can’t fathom that possibility.

“Well, she is a lucky woman, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel, please” he says. “I’m thirty-five, not the goddamn crypt keeper. As for Sarah, well…” He takes another deep, labored breath. “It feels like she’s more mature than I am most days. Fourteen going on forty-five but I’d break my back to give her the world. Hell, I broke my nose trying to.” 

“Your nose is certainly busted, Joel,” I tell him. “But I think you’ll be okay. I do, however, need you to stop crossing your eyes to look at what I’m doing.”

“Just wanna make sure you’re doing it right.” 

“Maybe you should focus on doing your job right and you wouldn’t have to worry about mine.” 

His eyes meet mine and he smiles, crooked and quiet, and easy silence falls over us as I pull string through skin. 

Back in its proper place, and with most of the blood gone, I take in more of those good looks—a curved nose with full lips, day old stubble growing up to the fine lines of fatigue beneath his eyes and the soft kind of cheeks that smile lines like to call home. If anything, the scar this leaves him with will only serve to make his face more interesting. 

“I'd give you some ibuprofen but that would be another two-fifty,” I tell him as I pull the final stitch through. “I trust you know how to get to the pharmacy.”

“That I do.” His voice is low as he leans towards me. "I'm a rewards member.”

“Great,” I say, stepping back at the shock I feel from his proximity. “Follow the directions on the bottle, keep”—I wave my hand over his nose—“this clean and the stitches will dissolve as it heals. Come back if anything weird starts coming out of it.”

“Weird?”

“Pus, mainly. But if you rip it open with more Olivewood, we can add blood to that list.”

“Jesus, have a little faith in me, you’re starting to sound like my brother.” His eyes follow me as I clean the area around him, making an easier job for the—what did he call it?—cubicle to be turned over for the next occupant. “You're not from here, are you?”

“That obvious, huh?”

His head is shaking when I turn back to him. “Not obvious unless you're looking real close, which I have been.”

“Boston,” I tell him. “Close enough to it anyway.” 

“You don’t sound like it,” he says. “How the hell did you even end up down here?”

Laughing, I tell him I got into UT Austin. “Came for the warmth.” 

“Not the parties?” He asks, shocked.

“Not the partying type.” I let the r drop from partying and he smiles.

Gaze staying fixed to my movements. I can feel nerves creeping in, a free falling kind of anxiety butter fingers are made of and I’m waiting for the tray worth more than my paycheck to fall. 

He grabs his jacket as he stands and nods at me as if tipping some kind of hat. “Thanks for fixing my face, sweetheart.” 

January 9, 2003:

“Morning, Murphy,” Andrea says as she walks in. “Been a while since I saw you darkening my doorstep. Busy day?”

I’ve pulled shifts in pediatrics and cardiology the last few days, covering for their staff shortages wherever I can fit myself in. Neither’s much fun. While I do like that I get a longer amount of time to spend with the patients, build a rapport with them, that only makes the hurt hurt more. Especially pediatrics.

“For the sake of my sanity, I’m going to say yes,” I tell her, looking up from my spot in the nurse’s station. “And I’ve already had to tell one of the doctors to go fuck themselves.”

“What did they do?”

“Found out they’d been putting off admitting a kid with suicidal ideation who’s been waiting all night. Apparently it’s the fourth time this month the kid has been in here but I looked it up and it’s only the second.”

Andrea nods her head. “I would’ve yelled too.”

“I never said I yelled, I said I told him to fuck himself.”

She sits beside me then. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you what happened yesterday then. Or the day before that either.” 

I stare at her, waiting for the stories, but I have to roll my hand in a gesture to get on with it before she starts speaking.

“Remember that hunky guy from Friday?” She asks. “The one whose nose you put back together?”

“Yes?”

“Well, he came in on Monday looking for you, said you told him to come back if anything weird came out of his nose other than blood.”

“Oh god, what color was it?” I ask. 

She laughs. “That's the thing, there was nothing wrong with his nose as far as I could tell, your stitches looked good and his face was clean.”

“Then”—I can feel my face pinch up in confusion—“why was he here?” 

“Oh, he said he wanted to thank the nurse who helped him. When I said I’d pass along the message, he said he’d much rather tell you himself. He asked if you worked Tuesday but I said I didn’t give out schedules and he understood. Still came back though.”

“Came back in a… creepy way?”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t get that vibe from him. Actually—I think your mama might owe me some money for being the one to finally find you a man.”

Money? “You made a bet?”

She shrugs. “If he comes back today, maybe I’ll tell you.” 

January 11, 2003:

If Joel Miller showed up on Wednesday, I wasn’t made aware of it.

Same goes for yesterday.

But today, at the end of all the bullshit and the car crashes both coming in and happening all around me, I’m called to the waiting room.

Standing easily at six feet with two half black eyes, Joel worries the brim of a hat in his hands as he looks around nervously. He really is handsome. Not my type but not not my type.

Joel’s the kind of guy I’m attracted to but never the one I end up with.

Or, at least, end up horizontal with.

“You work tomorrow?” The end of his sentence goes up a little higher than I think he meant it to, like he wanted it to come off cool and lost himself along the way.

He told the front desk he was worried about his stitches, just wanted them checked out to make sure he’s keeping up with them alright. Which he is, they’re perfect. His request was bullshit and he apologized for interrupting my day. I didn’t tell him that this interruption was a much needed respite to the chaos behind the doors.

“Why?” I ask, studying the broken blood vessels darkening the bridge of his nose. “Are you planning on losing a finger next? Because I gotta be honest with you, Mr. Miller, short straw or not, that is far out of the scope of my responsibilities.”

He laughs. “No. But I’d like to stop by and maybe take you to lunch.”

Holy shit.

“That's bold, Joel, but I’m off for the next four days so I guess we’ll just have to part with only this between us.” 

“So you’ll be back Wednesday?”

“I don’t give out my work schedule, sir,” I tell him.

Smile lines do form then, lips stretching wide to show a bright smile. “Just tell me what you like in your coffee, I owe it to you after you took such good care of me.”

“Don't worry, your insurance will pay me enough for the official visit you already had but”—my voice drops to a whisper as I lean in—“I’ll never refuse a plain latte with cinnamon on top.”

I shock myself even as I say it.

“Plain latte, cinnamon on top” he repeats, the smile growing wider. “You have a nice weekend, ma’am, and I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

Handsome. Funny. No ring. Showed up to ask if he could buy me a coffee.

Usually when a man hits on me in here, it’s so crude that I’m not sure I can count what he did as flirting. I watch as he walks out, placing his hat back on his head as soon as he’s beyond the doors, and release the air of cool I had been holding in for so long.  

January 16, 2003:

Maybe Friday didn’t end as well as I thought.

I came back in to learn somebody from one of the car wrecks didn’t make it after all. She seemed like she would but something went wrong in the hours well after surgery.

I question this career choice after news like that; after the days like Friday was when the bad moments outweigh the good ones. Sometimes there’s no balance and the chaos I willingly chose and prepared for all those years ago is just too much. 

There were two wins in my pocket when I walked out those doors. One slipped away in the early hours of Saturday morning and, as the clock pushes forward into the late afternoon, it’s looking more and more like it slipped the other’s mind.

“Hey, Drea,” I say, leaning against the counter of the nurse’s station. “I think I’m gonna go ahead and grab lunch.” 

The older woman nods her head, waving me away. 

Lunchbox already in hand, I push my way out the door and into the outside, grateful that the heavy rains have subsided for the foreseeable future. Even then, the air smells like mud and dead leaves. I’m so busy watching my feet, making sure I don’t slip, that I don’t fully register the boots until I’m colliding face first into another person.

“Looks like I’m just in time,” comes a deep, thickly accented voice.

That second win.

I hate the way I know I’m beaming when I look into his big brown eyes. “It’s not like we had set one.”

Joel nods, eyes darting down to my lunchbox. “You didn’t have much hope though, did you?”

“I was losing it,” I shrug.

“Well”—he holds up a fast-food bag in one hand and a coffee tray in the other, nodding to each—“hopefully this makes up for it.”

Eying the bag, I ask, “how’d you know what I’d want?”

“I didn’t. But I’ve never met a girl who didn’t like chicken nuggets and french fries.”

“Congrats, Mr. Miller, you’ve figured women out.” I take the bag and head towards the parking lot before calling back. “You should write a book, you’ll make a killing.” 

“I'm not trying to make a killing, ma’am,” he says, taking two steps to fall right into stride beside me. “You think I want dumbasses like my brother to know how to talk to pretty girls like you?”

Opening the driver’s side door, I tuck myself into the seat and look up at him. “Who said I’m a pretty girl?”

He smiles, “I did.”

“Well, then,” I shake my head, “I guess I get your point.” 

“Am I allowed to sit in your car with you”—he nods to the empty passenger seat—“or would you rather I hand you your coffee and fuck right off?”

Joel’s built tall and broad, shoulders stacked over a straight spine like he’s being held up by a hanger. His face is dropping though, as moments stretch between us, until, finally, he grabs one cup from the holder and hands it over. “I guess I’ll be on my way then—“

“Get your ass in the car, Joel.”

Smile lines again. Deep set parentheses in his cheeks and, this time, I see a dimple that matches my own but this one only pockets his right cheek. He jogs across the front of my car like he’s aware of every single pound he weighs, all but throwing himself into the passenger seat as soon as the door is open. “Did I make myself”—he licks his lips before taking in a deep breath—“incredibly obvious there or what?” 

Shaking my head, I shove another fry into my mouth. “What was supposed to be obvious? Are you flat footed?” I lean into him, examining the smile that’s somehow getting wider. “Is that why you run like that?”

“What's wrong with the way I run?” 

Another fry. “Nothing.”

In the still silence of the small car, the minutes tick by between bites and sips. Usually, new people have me hammering on in nervous nothingness and stuttered speech patterns, tripping over my tongue to find words that don’t make me sound like an idiot. Not Joel.

I feel like I’ve sat in a thousand parking lots sharing silence with him.

“This is strange.” 

Funny he should say that. “What is?” 

Joel breathes deep and tips his cup to his lips again. “Just don’t want you thinking it’s my habit to bring lunch to pretty girls.”

“There you go with that pretty girls again, I guess you really do think I am one.”

“I—yes. I do. This is exactly why I didn’t tell Tommy about this, I’m making myself sound like a goddamn fool.” 

“Maybe just a fool,” I tell him, head resting against the back of my seat. “God doesn't look like he’s damned you yet but”—I reach out and curve my hand beneath his chin, thumb pressing into one cheek while the tips of all my fingers press into the other—“This hasn’t come too far in healing, there’s hope for you yet. Are you keeping it clean?” 

“Doing my best.” Pink tongue darts out against his lips, eyes squinting as he nods in my direction. “Does it really look that bad?”

I shrug. “Looks like shit but that’s to be expected, it’s only been a couple of days. You said you lost a fight to a two by four?” 

Joel nods against my grip. “I'm a carpenter, I-I work in construction.”

“I know what a carpenter is, Joel. You don’t just work in construction.” 

“Right, well… I asked Tommy to hand me a piece of wood, which he was already doing because the dumbass can read my mind, only”—he shakes his head—“he was swinging the goddamn thing at my head like a baseball bat trying to be funny and I turned just as he was swinging and then I met you.”

“With a couple hour wait between.”

“More like three hours,” he corrects me. “But I got a date out of it.”

I let go of him. “This is a date?”

“I'd like it to be. Like I said, I don’t do this—date, talk to girls. Unless it’s the moms at school events. I have a daughter, by the way.” 

“I figured.” I did. “A man wouldn’t say he’d break his back trying to give a little girl the world unless he’s a father or a criminal. I’ve seen enough of the latter to figure you weren’t it. But, Joel, do you even know my name?” 

“Sweetheart”—he pinches my work badge between his thumb and forefinger—“it says Alison right here in big, bold letters.”

Studying him, I nod. “They said you didn’t ask for me by name, though. Said you gave your own and asked for the nurse who fixed you up.”

“I-uh…” He licks his lips and smiles. “I knew it was creepy enough I was showing up to your work to talk to you, I didn’t want to pull out your whole name like we go way back or anything.” 

It goes quiet between us again and he pulls his hand away, focusing instead on the lid of his cup. “Maybe I should’ve taken the hint earlier and—“

“Joel, shut up. You do not strike me as a man who doubts himself.”

There’s a relaxed kind of honesty that drapes across his face, familiar like that silence was before and, God, he beams. Like a politician on a winner’s stage, it goes from ear to ear with a barely there beard, splitting a patch in his mustache. “I am a single father of a teenage girl, I doubt myself all the time. I like to surround myself with people who can call me on my bullshit, though, which you seem to have no trouble doing, and you just so happen to be my type. So, yeah, I’d like this to be a date.” He bites his lip. "But if you want me to fuck off, just say that and I’ll be on my way.” 

I consider him momentarily, study the rise and fall of his chest with the way his breathing seems to have picked up. He doesn’t do this, but neither do I. I don’t date and I certainly don’t entertain the advances of patients. It’s an emergency room, though. If I ruled out dating anybody who could ever possibly walk through those doors for any reason, I’d rule out everybody.

“What's your type?” I ask him.

There’s a small piece of plastic from the lid that he’s managed to twist and pull off and he fights a smile as he drops it into the empty cup. His profile blows me away but it’s the curls I didn’t notice when I had his head in my hands that I’m transfixed on now.

Wetting his lips again, his eyes dance across my face and he shrugs. “Pretty girls.” 

January 24, 2003:

“Why are you apologizing to me?”

There’s no sweetheart on the end of it, Sarah must be in the room. Or close enough by to hear. 

“Because I—fuck.” This week has been a nightmare, today has been a nightmare. I miss him and I don’t even know if I’m allowed to this early in the game. God, I don’t even know if there’s a fucking game. Half after eight and I’m pushing tears from my eyes for the fourth, maybe fifth, time since I left the hospital. “I just waved you away, I was such a bitch.” 

“Hey, hey.” Joel’s voice is raspy in that two beers kind of way I’ve come to know from all our late night conversations. I think that’s what’s finally caught up to me. The late nights, the early mornings—all the death and not enough sleep in-between. A door clicks shut on the other end of the line and he pushes a hard breath out. “You’re being too hard on yourself, you were swamped when I came in.”

“I guess.”

“No, you were. Look, I come by because I like seeing you but I can recognize that your job is hectic and demands your attention first. I’m a grown man, Alison, and I am perfectly fine with being told to fuck off. I thought I’d made that abundantly clear to you.”

“Yeah,” I press my head back into my pillows. “You’re right.” I want to not sound like a fucking moron to him but I’ve got anxiety and cortisol pumping through my veins like stress is the only thing I’ve ever known. “Thank you for the drink.”

“Why don’t you let me buy you a real one tomorrow?” He asks. I can hear the rough slide of his palm against the grain of his beard. “I think we’ve graduated from lattes and lunch dates.”

There are logistics to that request—clothes to pack, the hope of a quick shower at the hospital after work. God, I have to shave my legs. 

“Feeling real rejected here, sweetheart,” he whispers into the phone. “Did you fall asleep or are you in your head?” 

I can hear his smile through the phone, picture that dimple in his cheek. “That would be nice,” the words come out on a yawn.

“I thought about you all day,” his voice seems to hit an even lower register and heat flushes up my cheeks. “I’m trying to keep my cool with you, not come off over eager, but between seeing you every day and talking to you every night…I’m making some stupid ass mistakes that might land me right back into your emergency room so I want you to know…” Joel trails off and huffs a laugh. “Never mind.” 

“No, finish your thought.”

“I'm trying to not scare you off. Do you have a restaurant you’d like to go to? You said you like Italian food?”

“Everybody likes Italian food, Joel.” 

He laughs. “Okay, sweetheart, you got me there.”

The ache to apologize is creeping back up my throat and I know it’s because of his tone now. If he was gonna scare me away, he would’ve done it by now. “I’ve never really done the dating thing either,” I tell him honestly. “If there are rules to this, I never knew them to even consider they could be broken.”

He laughs, again, on the other end of the line, small and agreeable.

“Joel, I’d be happy just spending time with you, it doesn’t matter what we eat or where we go. That’s why I apologized earli—“ Another yawn. “Mm, that’s why I apologized earlier, I like spending time with you.” 

“I’ll let you get some sleep, sweetheart,” he says, yawning as well. “But I have a question…” 

Nodding against the pillow despite knowing he can’t see, I whisper back, “okay.”

“You like Johnny Cash?” He asks. 

“Ten years in the south, Joel,” I say like it’s obvious, “I think I’d be shot if I said anything but yes.” 

He laughs. “You like nachos?”

“Not to sound like a cool girl, but if I ever deny nachos, I ask that you have me shot.” 

“Perfect,” he breathes out, “I’ll pick you up at the hospital.” 

“I-uh—“ He makes a grunting sound on the other end of the line. “I’ll see you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Joel.”

Aimlessly, I push myself up to sit again and think over the day and all the things I could’ve done different. It was shit. The kind of life draining busy that leaves me staring aimlessly at the end of it all. I’m not even sure how I got home, that’s how zoned out I was. I kept that bit from Joel, though. It’s only really been a week and he’s already expressed worry about the length of my shifts, how I only drive at night.

He hasn’t even kissed me yet, barely even hugged me. There’s a familiarity and a kindness in the small touches we’ve shared though—lunches traded off with fingers brushing the other’s, him tucking my hair behind my ear, me checking his stitches. 

On Monday, as I stood over him, head in my hands, manipulating his face this way and that, I stumbled and he caught me. Tommy had walked into the space, sawdust kicking up with the wind he let in, and before either of us had registered his presence, he whistled like an old cartoon with his eyes half bugged out. Sudden noises make me jump, increase my heart rate, especially when I’m focused. 

Hands on my hips, he grounded me and it shot fire right through to the pit of my belly. If that was all, then I would’ve been fine after saying goodbye, but it wasn’t. Joel dragged his thumb across a little strip of exposed skin where my shirt had ridden up, back and forth and back again. Breathing properly became difficult after that.

There are no games with him, I learned that so quick. He says he’ll do something and then he does. He said he’d bring me coffee and he did. Says he’ll stop by and he does. Says he’ll pick me up at the hospital tomorrow and I know he will. I feel insane for saying I love it, but I do. Because there’s no guesswork, no overthinking. 

Even so, my nerves are activating already thinking about being near him without obligation to hurry back to, complete with drinks and clean clothes.

I miss his voice as I wash the day from my face, too used to his soft humming soundtracking my nightly routine as he goes through his own.

It’s only been a week and it feels like I’ve had that forever. To think it happened because my boss took pity on me, handing me a bright spot in a bad day. He was that again today, showing up with the bruises on his face starting to fade out into green at the edges and a coffee in hand. I gestured back out the door before I’d even taken a sip, I don’t even think I said hello. Not properly anyway.

Everybody seemed to die on me again today too; codes left and right until my patience and my confidence were both worn so thin that I came close to snapping. Joel would’ve been on the receiving end, it’s why I asked him to go. The new guy—Greg—called me The Angel of Death, said I killed everything including Joel’s mood. That’s why I wanted to apologize, afraid that would’ve been what finally kept him from coming back tomorrow. 

January 25, 2003:

Sometime a little after five, I finally find a moment to sit.

Today’s been…steady. Still busy as shit but if it was dead, the new guy—Greg—would say that’s just something else I had killed. I walked in this morning and the first thing he said to me was a reminder not to suck the life out of the day.

I can’t even get away from him because I’m the one who’s training him.

“I didn’t know you wear glasses, sweetheart.”

Joel’s voice melts all the tension from my shoulders. “What are you doing here?” He’s smiling when I look up and reaches over the counter of the nurse’s station to put a coffee in front of me. “Joel, shouldn’t you be headed home?”

“I should be,” he nods. “See, I got this date tonight I have to get ready for”—he leans against the counter—“and she’s got these big, beautiful hazel eyes.”

“So why aren’t you getting ready for her?” I ask.

“She's also got this incredibly hectic job”—he looks around—“and she left me a voicemail at four this morning so I figured she might need a little pick me up to see her through to the date.”

“Oh, you figured?”

He shrugs. “I’m a boring son of a bitch but I don’t really want her falling asleep on me.”

“That's really smart, actually,” I tell him. “She’s had a rough day—”

“And he looks like he’ll give you a rough night.” 

Joel’s energy shifts beneath those words, as does his gaze to my trainee, and he stands straight with a tall, rigid spine.

Greg clears his throat and rolls his chair closer to mine, sticking his arm out in an attempt to shake Joel’s hand.

Joel looks at me and I know he sees the embarrassment—the exhaustion—in my face and looks back at Greg’s outstretched hand before settling his eyes on the other man’s again. “I thought clowns worked up in pediatrics.” 

The hand withdraws from my peripheral and Joel knocks once against the countertop. “I'll pick you up at seven thirty?”

I’m still nodding when he leaves, heat rushing up my cheeks in boiled, scarlet red. Greg’s trying to apologize and I realize Joel was wrong. When he suggested I could tune out an asshole or two, he was wrong.

He catches the hint after a few minutes, finally fucking off and leaving me alone. First baby nurse I’ve ever been stuck with that I want to feed to the wolves. Or maybe just put on trauma and triage forever. I don’t even know why I’m surprised, he pulled the same shit with a patient earlier as if he got his bedside manner from watching reruns of Scrubs.

The last of the day slips by on autopilot, I even manage to finish the drink while it’s warm this time, and, before I know it, I’m being tagged out and the nerves come back. Which is stupid because he was just here and I felt fine.

But now he’s leaned up against the wall next to the door waiting for me with his hair slicked back and a nice, blue shirt beneath a thick, brown jacket and my anxiety builds back up

Because there are no games here, not yet, but the only time we’ve spent with one another is at my work or his. This is real, no scrubs or the smell of ammonia clinging to me. No sawdust or sweat on him.

“Hi,” I say.

“You took your hair down,” he says, pushing off the wall.

“Does it look bad?” 

He shakes his head. “I never said that, sweetheart.” 

What happened to that quiet comfort I felt? It’s there but it’s dull, muted down as anticipation takes over. He’s told me all this time that I’ve got to tell him when to fuck off, I’m fairly certain he’ll be the one to say that to me.

My hand in his as he leads me to his truck and opens the door, an apology for the construction smell on his lips but all I can smell is his cologne hanging thick in the cab.

Earthy with some kind of spice to it. Fitting for a man like him, like it was custom made for him. 

“You look beautiful,” he tells me, leaning against the open door. “I should’ve said that. I just haven’t seen your hair down, I knew you had curls but…wow, sweetheart.” He leans closer. “I'll try not to trip over my words for the rest of the night.”

“Keep your cool,” I tell him, an attempt to keep mine as well.

A small laugh and he closes the door before jogging over to the driver’s side. Sitting in shared silence with him feels so natural, but driving in it has tension so thick, I’m shocked he can see. 

Again, this isn’t taking a moment to be with each other—get to know each other—in the middle of the day. This is the objective and, from the way he’s tapping his fingers against the wheel, his nerves are meeting up with mine. 

“So… where are you taking us?”

Joel smiles and looks over momentarily, eyes darting back to the road and over again. “I had a plan but”—he scratches at his cheek, facial hair trimmed down back to near nothing—“seeing you in that dress, I’m sitting over here thinking I should throw that straight in the garbage.”

The timbre of his voice dips low when I tell him it’s nothing special. “Alison”—it comes out stern—“I might just be some dumb old man but I wouldn’t have bribed my brother with a bottle of whiskey to watch my child for nothing special.”  

The quiet that follows isn’t exactly comfortable, not with electricity crackling just beneath the surface of my skin.

When he parks, he turns to me. “I can take you somewhere nicer.”

“This seems really nice,” I tell him honestly, taking in the neon and the twinkle lights illuminating all the people spilling out the front door. “It's popular.”

“It's not exactly first date material.”

I pull the latch to the door and begin to step out. “It’s a good thing this isn’t our first date.”  

Music starts at eight.

Some old country cover band that seems to do nothing for the tension set in his jaw. It’s snaking all the way into the tips of his fingers, stiff and heavy against the small of my back as he guides me into my seat before pulling up one adjacent. Mindlessly, I reach across and swipe my thumb along the swell of his cheek—like I’ve done it a million times before—and watch as he leans into my touch. 

Before I can even ask how ordering works, a peppy blonde drops by to take our drink orders.

“Um…” He leans back, caught off guard. "Y’all got Modelo?”

“I can do Modelo,” she responds.

“Perfect, I’ll take one of those.” Joel raps his knuckles against the table and points to me. “Your turn, sweetheart.” 

“May I just have a bourbon on ice?” I ask. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Joel blow out a breath, head shaking with a shit eating grin and, when it's just the menus left in front of us, he leans forward. “You know, pretty girl, I didn’t think you could get hotter but—“

“Joel Miller,” I turn to him, “is that confidence sneaking back into your voice?”  

He laughs. “I feel like we’re doing a pretty good job trading it back and forth.”

In front of everybody, in front of everything, I want to kiss him. Want to slide my fingers into the short, slicked back curls he’s already mussed up and pull him closer until there’s no more space between us.

“I'm still not sure what to make of this,” he goes on. The closeness of his lips to my ear sends shivers down my spine. “I don’t trust easily.”

That weightless, free falling feeling of nerves and excitement returns, lit up bright and burning beneath his fingers as the back of his knuckles stroke the exposed skin where my skirt has ridden up.

“Neither do I.”

“Yet, here you are,” he responds slowly, “with a strange man in a bar.” 

I do it then, not loud or aggressive. Just to get it out of the way, ground myself beneath his touch the way it was when I lost my footing. It feels as natural as the silence, like my last kiss didn’t come five years ago under the mistletoe before being dumped.

Nothing exists around me but him, everything is dull and tuned out—the music, the feedback, the sound of conversation. Hands on his face, his rough palms rest just below my elbows, almost like he’s keeping me in place so I can’t let him go, and he leans into me as I pull him closer.

It isn’t much but it tamps down the nerves, closed lips on closed lips. Then again with half a breath shared between us and again, each time coming together with more ease and familiarity.

Joel’s face is lit up when I do pull away, smile reaching up into his eyes as heat and want trickle down through to my finger tips and the tops of my cheeks. I know he can feel it, can see it. It feels like he’s seen me every day, looking at me as if I’m a regular face in his life’s routine. I feel so similarly about him—that his presence has always been in my life so it’s truthfully nothing new. But it is, he is. 

I bite these feelings back as I press another kiss to the corner of his lips. “Everybody’s a stranger until you give ‘em a chance, Joel.” 

[orchid3a]

aria my baby my love my twin

sugar daddy! omi x sugar baby! lil sis hanagaki but !!!! she's a ballerina and is only a sugar baby to help her to save money to have a good career as a dance, but omi falls in love with her as soon as he sees her and he's so hypnotized by the way she dances :( ofc michi doesn't know anything about this or else he would faint in hina's arms 🥺

june you are the best mwah mwah <3

BALLERINA - A. TAKEOMI

pairing: Bonten!Akashi Takeomi x lil sis Hanagaki!reader (sugar baby au!)

tw: age gap (reader is 20+ while Takeomi is 39), sugar daddy - sugar baby dynamic, hurt to comfort, misunderstanding (they’re idiots in love your honor), smut, oral sex (f recieving), size kink, breeding kink, creampie, mention of ‘daddy’ and ‘mommy’

wc: 1922 words 

note: i wrote this with my whole ariussy, clit included!!! lil sis hanagaki has such a grip on my mind!!! smut might sound strange but bear with me i’m terrible at writing it lmao

no proofreading

english isn’t my native language

reblogs and comments are appreciated

MDNI 18+ CONTENT

Angelic.

That’s the only word that Takeomi can use when he describes you, yet he still doesn't believe that word can fully express how he sees you. 

Twirling on your toes, you continue to dance all immersed in your choreography, not caring at all how his eyes are glued on every movement. Your attention is solely focused on the background music. Moving along the music, you close your eyes and let your mind remember the choreography. Your body elegantly dances, showing off all your years spent practicing over and over to reach that level of perfection. Still you aimed to be the top star of your generation, you wanted to be the Prima ballerina assoluta since you were a little girl who just started attending ballet classes.

You are practicing for the upcoming auditions of your dance company, this time your main objective is obtaining the role of both the White Swan and of the Black Swan from Swan Lake. Obtaining even just one of them would be an important achievement in your career, but both? Obtaining both roles would show the world your talent and let it see who you are.

Too focused on your train of thoughts that you don’t notice the music stopping and Takeomi’s applause. You snap back to reality only when you hear him calling your name a few times.

“Omi? You said something? I’m so sorry, I was too focused on my thoughts”.

Your relationship with Akashi Takeomi is…particular to put it simply. He is your sugar daddy and you his sugar baby, you two met because both of you had a reason. He was alone and you needed money to continue your career. Unfortunately being a ballerina is very expensive, from the ballet-school fee to all the pairs of pointe shoes (that last up to a week) and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask your parents or your brother more money than they already spent on you. 

He chuckles, shaking his head, before patting your head and a small smile adorns his face.

“Pretty girl, you were breathtaking and I couldn’t stop looking at you for even a second. I’m so proud of you.”

Embarrassment rushes over your cheeks, you bite your lips avoiding his gaze, despite knowing him for a while, you still aren’t used to his compliments.

And that’s why you signed up to a sugar baby site and met him, you couldn’t be more happy, having him was like living in a fairytale. Takeomi or Omi as you call him, is a true gentleman. He always makes sure to put your needs before his, he always has some gentle words to share with you and he treats you as a real princess. But you know, deep down, that your feelings could never be reciprocated, he deserved more than a young naive girl who still believes in the knight-in-shining armor. He deserves the universe and more, and you know that you can’t give him that. Maybe it’s best if you don’t tell him about your feelings, faking this relationship isn’t healthy but it’s better than him leaving you.

Takeomi doesn’t believe in love anymore, after all these years he knows that he and love are two different things. However things changed when he met you, his pretty girl, the sun in his life. He clings to you, you are so warm and gentle with him, treating him more as a boyfriend than a simple black card. The times he found himself in your dorm cuddling with you while watching a sappy rom-com or him watching your rehearsals are precious memories he will always cherish. 

Sometimes he wishes he was a little younger or more handsome, the thought of you leaving for another man scares him, he knows that it’s an irrational fear, but he can’t scroll through these thoughts.

This fear paralyzes him and the main reason why he doesn’t want to confess his feelings, he prefers continuing this relationship even if you don’t reciprocate his feelings. It’s better than having nothing, right?

One day maybe you will tell him your feelings, even with the risk of him not reciprocating them and maybe you will be heartbroken, but now you prefer living this fake fantasy of you two together until your heart will be ready to accept the raw reality.

Takeomi’s kisses taste like nicotine. His big warm hands bring you closer to him until your chests collide, your smaller body pressed into his, your head is clouded in lust and love. You can’t stop kissing him, his slightly chapped lips feel so good pressed against your soft one and you don’t want to kiss any other lips.

Sadly he breaks the kiss and you pout, he chuckles before he gently makes you sit on his king-size bed. You see him kneeling at your legs, opening them slightly enough to let him be between them. 

You bite your lower lip when he hikes up your skirt and kisses your naked inner thigh, playfully biting it and you whine. Fuck, you could feel already wet just by that, and he didn’t even started anything. 

“Someone is getting excited” he chuckles as his fingers start tracing your folds, still covered by your panties, you shamelessly moan throwing your head back.

“O-Omi don’t be so mean” you whine pouting and he laughs softly, before removing your panties completely and discarding them behind him.

He smirks before he latches on your pussy like a starved dog, whenever he eats you out you don’t know how it will go. Will Omi be so damn slow that you will cry and beg him to speed up? Or will he eating you out so ferociously to make you scream and make the whole world know who is fucking you?

“Princess, put your pretty legs on my shoulders.”

His words make you mewl and slowly your legs find themselves seated on his broad shoulders, his face is so close to your pussy and you squeal when he blows playfully on it.

Today he seems to have a different plan, he is slurping and sucking on your glistering folds gently and lovingly, fat tears running over your cheeks while mewls and soft whimpers leave your plump lips. 

“Omi ‘s so good. Please make me cum.” Your soft pleas only fuels his need to see you coming undone by him. His tongue is lapping at your fold, while his hands grip at your hips keeping you in place, face buried until his nose is touching your puffy and throbbing clit.

Your hands are grabbing his hair trying to pull him even closer and finally he pays attention to your neglected clit, you feel his tongue twirling it and your eyes roll back.

“ ‘m cum-cumming Omi.” It’s all you can babble before your orgasm hits you, making you cum so hard that your thighs twitch and a string of mewls leave your soft lips.

He looks at you and he can almost cum by the sight upon him. Hair sprayed like a halo and eyes clouded with lust, you seemed more a nymph than a human being.

He needs to be inside you now, he needs to become one with you now or he will die with this regret.

Discharging his clothes and yours, he gets between your legs, putting your ankles on his shoulders and he slowly enters your pussy. This angle lets him touch you more deeply, making your eyes roll back from pleasure and moan his name loudly.

“Like that angel, go on and make a mess” He hisses and his hips thrusting roughly into your hole, skin slapping against each other.

His angry cock is bullying his way into your poor hole, and your walls accommodate it willingly, tightening their grip on it as if your pussy doesn’t want to let him out.

The pleasure is overwhelming, your head is feeling light and looking at his face your heart beats a little faster than before.

He is so beautiful and the scar over his right eye makes him more handsome in your eyes, how can he still be so handsome despite him hitting his mid-thirties? But you don’t care, because in your eyes he will be the only man capable of making your heart go crazy. His beautiful greenish orbs, now filled with lust, are showing the rawest side he has.

Those simple words make him stop, his brain trying to comprehend what you have just said.

Your heart feels so heavy with those feelings you are kepting inside, you can’t be silent anymore and with tears you finally speak.

“I lo-love you Omi! I lo-love you!” You can only babble, pleasure taking over your mind.

Seeing him silent makes you panic, but now the truth is revealed and you have to deal with the consequences.

“I…I love you Takeomi! And I know that I shouldn’t have those feelings for you, because you deserve better than a little girl who still believes in the perfect love story. You deserve someone that can’t be me” You tearfully said, ready to see him leaving you and never meet again. However, you feel his big hands cupping your damp cheeks and a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Pretty girl, who said that I don’t like little girls who believe in the perfect love story? In fact I love a certain pretty girl who dances like an angel and hypnotizes me with just a glance. Ya know, she is super cute, she has the cutest smile and an even more adorable giggle. She makes me feel special, she always has a warm hug for this lonely old man. Her name I think is…Hanagaki (y/n)” he concludes before kissing you again and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

You moan when you feel him thrusting his hips again, and he deepens the kiss. You two kiss until you both run out of air.

“Pretty will you let me cum inside? Will you let me make you a mommy? I want to see your belly swollen and tits full of milk. I want to see you with my children.”

Those words make you whimper nodding, you would let him make you a mommy, heck you would even marry him if he asks you!

He grins and starts moving even faster, making you scream his name over and over.

“ ‘Om ‘s too much! P-Please le’ me cum!” 

“Go on and cum baby, make me a daddy” 

One last thrust and you both cum, him inside you now his seed is well-secured in your womb.

Takeomi doesn’t slip out yet, he lays on his side and brings you closer to him, facing each other. You kiss him gently and peck his nose, giggling at his soft expression.

“Pretty I hope tomorrow you don’t have any appointments, we will need to find a pretty ring for your finger.”

You squeal and hug him giggling like a child, then you remember that you need to let Omi see your parents and your brother.

“Omi…I need to tell you something…Michi-nii maybe could pass out if he sees you. Not because of your looks, he is a little too overprotective of me but trust me he is a nice guy.”

He chuckles at your words “Don’t worry pretty, I already deal with Haruchiyo so I can deal with him too.”

You giggle and kiss him once again. 

“I love you Omi”

“I love you too, pretty”

And soon you both fell asleep, laced into each other’s warmth.

[sluttywonwoo]

Please elaborate on the members’ love languages 🥺

seungcheol: words of affirmation. the way he pouts when his members don’t wish him happy birthday exactly at midnight, and the way he’s always saying the sweetest things to carats makes me think this would be his love language!! he’s constantly writing love letters on weverse and always gets so shy when carats tell him how good of a leader he is too!!

jeonghan: physical touch. he’s very touchy with the people he’s close to. i can just picture him laying on top of you like a weighted blanket at every available opportunity, and he’d always be holding your hand or putting his hand on your thigh etc.

joshua: gift giving. he’s always making bead bracelets for his friends- sometimes necklaces too. i think he really loves giving people handmade gifts or gifts with a lot of thought to let them know they’re loved

jun: quality time. he loves spending time with the people that matter most to him (going to disney with hao, doing v lives with another member, wanting to take all his friends to china)

soonyoung: quality time. i considered physical touch first, but i think his love for quality time overshadows that. hoshi just likes to be around his friends, and i assume that would extend to his s/o too. he gets energy from the people around him and actively seeks them out to spend time together (calling joshua to come over immediately after getting his own hotel room for the first time in months)

wonwoo: acts of service. he brings you your favorite coffee at work, throws your laundry in the washer before you remember to do it yourself, tries cooking dinner even though he nearly burns the apartment down. he just likes to do little things to say i love you without actually doing them

jihoon: gift giving. but in the form of music. he likes sending people playlists he’s made with them specifically in mind, and sometimes he’ll even write songs in honor of someone in particular. the greatest gift he feels he can give is that of music

seokmin: words of affirmation. he’s always got something nice to say to everyone, and i think he’d shower his s/o in compliments hehe, but he’d also like to receive words of affirmation whenever he’s having a rough day or on any regular day tbh

mingyu: physical touch. he’s super clingy so he’d always be holding on to you in some way, and loves when you do the same. like when you hug him or snuggle into him his heart explodes into a million butterflies and he can’t handle it

minghao: acts of service. he’s very thoughtful and intentional and likes to go out of his way for the people that he loves (surprising jun on set, visiting jun and hoshi on their solo shoots) so he’d always be doing things to let you know he’s thinking of you and feels most loved when people do the same for him. leaving out his favorite tea bags in the morning, bringing home a bottle of wine to have with dinner, visiting him at dance practice… little things that make him feel special

seungkwan: words of affirmation. ok he is bad at taking compliments, but he definitely appreciates them. he works so hard that it’s only natural to want to be affirmed for his efforts, and likewise he’d be really observant of your passions and your work and find ways to compliment you on them as well as always mentioning how much he loves you

vernon: quality time. he likes to be able to just vibe in silence with his favorite people. like you don’t even have to be doing anything together, he just likes being with you. facetime, hanging out, your presence is just calming to him and it makes him feel cared for when you spend time with him (and he hopes that his friends feel the same way when he puts aside time for them)

chan: words of affirmation. his members tease him a lot, but they also compliment his drive and talent. and he’s always going on and on about how much he loves his members and is also always uplifting them etc. he’d do the same with you, never letting you forget how important you are

[lumiereandcogsworth]

Top 5 moments you pause and ruminate on while rewatching BATB 2017

okay so i have to exclude specific adelle moments here because obviously i pause and ruminate and lose my mind at every one of their scenes. but this is a list of my top 5 THEY scenes so there’s that <3

also idk if i ruminate for ALL of these per se but these are just scenes i love and enjoy :”)

1. The Prologue

gosh. GOSH. truly the most beautiful prologue of all time. i won’t make this a 1991 vs 2017 thing but…. they went off with this prologue. that’s all i’ll say here. it’s just SO EXCELLENT!!! it’s so awesome to see the man that adam was before the curse. it puts all of it in this new and TRAGIC light. dan stevens explained it best, so i’ll link that post <3 but gosh it’s just!!! it’s gorgeous!! it’s so cool to see the life he had. you get to see how awful and pretentious he was!! a bastard man!!! a whore!!!! he’s a bitch and we like him SO MUCH. it’s just amazing, i usually watch it a couple times before i even move on to the rest of the movie haha.

2. Belle & Maurice Goodbye

🥺🥺🥺🥺!!!!!!!!!! i just love them so much. i go off about them here too but aaaaaAAAHHHH they’re so important to me. there’s just so much in this scene!! you can see all the history of their bond, how important they are to each other, all in this one conversation. it’s just beautiful <3

3. Course… By… COURSE!

i know this is like a very tiny moment but the absolute burst of serotonin that it gives me is unparalleled. UNMATCHED. PURE HAPPINESS.

4. The Paris Flashback

there is NO gifset of this ENTIRE flashback. at least none i’ve seen! and i think i’ve seen just about every batb 2017 gifset! it breaks my heart! if any gifmakers are out there and wanna give me a christmas present… haha….. but anyway. i linked the clip of it on youtube, and that’s where the screenshot is from too 🥺 but yeah what can i say!!! i love maurice sooo much. i know adam and belle are clearly my favorite characters but gosh, maurice sure is a close third. he’s so important to me and this scene just KILLS ME. ugh. the everything about it. i talk about it more here too.

5. Maurice and Chip Meeting

ajdksjd this scene just makes me laugh every time lmao. like in this gif in particular his acting is so flawless like his mannerisms, his facial expressions, the way he can’t even get his words out at first SHDKSJ he’s just so startled it’s SO good. it just makes me laugh and i often replay it a couple times lmaooo

+ special bonus shoutout to my boys!!!

Lumiere’s Prank

i got you there ;D sjdksj

SHUSH

“well, there is one—,” HEHEHE. an iconic comedic duo your honor. i love them 💛🧡

[gunsatthaphan]

i love your gifs and wanted to make some of my own too but they always end up very low in quality :( if its alright, can you share where and how you make high quality gifs? thanks in advance!

hi anon!

thank you very much I feel honored that you're coming to me for advice 🥺💕

though I’m not a pro or anything lol I just kind of go along with what looks good and I’m happy when it turns out okay jksdfh but hopefully I can still help you  with your request :) 

I use photoshop as my only software - after I import the footage I crop the image to the size I want and crop potential logos, watermarks or unwanted subs etc. in the process.

After that I kind of play around with the colors until it looks nice lol sorry I don’t have a more elaborate explanation but that’s literally what I do lol 🙈

Next is sharpening - the methods I use depend on the quality of the video but I mostly end up using a combination of smart sharpening (filters -> sharpening -> smart sharpening) and gaussian blur (filters -> blur -> gaussian blur). After I apply the smart sharpening I often duplicate the layer and add the gaussian blur to the second layer and set the layer-opacity to about 10-20%. That way the image looks a bit more smooth as opposed to just using the smart sharpening which can make the image look a bit hard and edged? If that makes sense lol. I know a lot of ppl work with the Topaz plugin as well but it keeps crashing for me which is why I don’t use it. 

But yeah that’s basically it. I hope my explanation makes sense- Additionally I’m gonna link you to some excellent tutorials which have helped me a lot (and still do; they’re all from the bts fandom bc these ppl are literal giffing gods i tell ya): 

x - x - x - x - x - x

additionally, there’s this blog dedicated to giffing tutorials which is also very helpful! AAANNDDD last but not least - here is another very good masterpost from another giffing blog :) 

hope this helped you a bit anon - there are so many super talented giffers out there that I basically just lurk around and pick up as much as I can skjdfh 🙈

xxx