#this case is so special to me like. can you imagine what they went through

[heathersdesk]

My grandfather was killed in a hit and run accident in 1978.

His mother and sister struggled with life after that. They decided to go on a trip across the United States together to get away from things for a while.

I discovered this trip when I was going through photo albums and suddenly saw a place I recognized.

The Salt Lake Temple.

They went to many places during that trip. But there was something truly special to me that, in one of the worst seasons of their lives, they ended up at the temple.

I served part of my mission at Temple Square. I was waiting for a visa to Brazil that I began to think was never coming. I had a truly horrendous time in the MTC babysitting a district of Elders who spent weeks on end bullying me and tearing down my self-esteem. I was told directly by someone, I forget who now, that I was being sent there to recover. And when I realized that the mission had no young Elders in it at all, that it was only Sisters and senior couples, I came to appreciate what that meant.

I had so many wild interactions there with so many people. Some of them were strange, like the guy who viewed the Book of Mormon as proof of alien interactions with humans. There were moments of heartbreak, like the woman who was in tears at the Christus statue who attacked us when we checked in on her. There were moments of pure delight, like when an LDS family with two young daughters came to that same Christus statue. The oldest girl, no older than 4 or 5, squealed "JESUS" and ran to the Savior's feet, little sister in tow. Whenever I hear someone mention the teaching to become as a little child, she is exactly who I think of.

There were also moments that were meant solely for me, like when I met the first Sister to ever be called to the Boston mission I had hoped to go to to wait for my visa. Boston has a large Brazilian population, many of whom are members of the Church. I had begged in prayer to be sent there and was told by other people it wouldn't happen because "Sisters don't go there." I had an entire conversation with the woman who was going to be that change. It seemed cruel to me at the time, dangling the carrot of something I wanted right in front of my face. In time, I've realized it was so I would remember that God does miracles and is aware of the desires of my heart, even if it means I don't get what I want. Someone needed to exercise enough faith to push that door open for women. I put my full weight behind it, and I can be just as proud that it opened for someone else.

But some of my favorite people I met there were people who just made me laugh. I met a Jewish convert from New York who told us his conversion story, how what drew him in was the Plan of Salvation. He summarized it in a New York accent in a voice I can still hear in my mind: "So you're a god, eventually. But can you pay RENT?!"

One of my favorite people I met was a Scottish convert named Agnes who was doing the Mormon trail across the US, beginning in New England and ending in Utah. She was a much older woman and told us all about her pilgrimage, and how she had cuddled with the oxen at the baptismal font in the Manhattan New York Temple. (I've been there. You enter into the baptistry on face level with them, or did the last time I was there.) She shared her testimony with us, and I'll never forget what she said.

She explained that the story of Joseph Smith was really hard to get her mind around. It truly is an insane set of asks: angels, gold plates, polygamy, and all the rest. She talked about how she came to accept it—not through any kind of empirical evidence or proof, but through faith and what that looked like.

For her, it was the recognition that being LDS was the best way she had ever encountered to live an excellent life. She said that the worst case scenario she could imagine is one where God would say to her, "You know that whole business with Joseph Smith was a load of crock, right? But you lived such a good life, I have to let you in anyway."

That has always stayed with me. Agnes was one of many people who came to the Square looking for something. I saw people come there looking for faith, or a fight, and truly everything in between. And it's only now that I'm older and wiser that I see something clearly now that I couldn't see then.

Agnes didn't need to come to Temple Square to find faith. She already had a tremendous amount of faith. She, and many others, were looking for conviction. I was at Temple Square long enough to learn you don't get that from a place. While a place like Temple Square can illuminate the possibilities for conviction through the lens of history, it doesn't bestow that conviction through contact or proximity alone. Conviction is made from the materials of your own life and your own choices. Your will, how firmly you place yourself into an immovable and unyielding position, is the measure of your convictions. It comes from within.

Faith is the decision to believe in what you cannot see, and what cannot be proven objectively. That never goes away. Nothing we experience in life, no place we ever visit, will create a shortcut under, over, or around that decision to believe, to trust in God. Faith, at its core, is a decision. The ability to continue making that decision over and over again, under all species of hardship and opposition, is conviction.

Where Jesus walked is nowhere near as important as how Jesus walked, and with whom. The same is true for all of us. Our walk with God might never take us anywhere near a temple because of where God has called us to go. But we are the holiest dwelling places of God on earth—not any of the buildings we've made.

Be a holy place of living faith wherever you are, whatever your circumstances may be. Worship God, no matter what places you can or cannot enter. There is more than one way to access a temple. One way is to enter a place that people invite God to dwell. The other is to become that place. There can be no separation from God where communion never ceases. It is the refuge that is unassailable by others for as long as the person wills it so. The torch within will not go out.

The temple is not special because it has some holy essence that springs forth out of nothing, to passively be absorbed by others. The temple is special because it directs people to Jesus Christ, who is the giver of healing and peace. The temple is just a building. It's Jesus Christ that is the true power behind it all, whose objective is to make you, me, and every person you know the holiest creature you've ever beheld. You are the end goal.

#mormon #lds #mormonism #tumblrstake #the church of jesus christ of latter day saints #religion #faith #queerstake #christianity #lds temple #temple square #Alma 32

[doydoune]

the worst day of their lives so far, but the night is quiet

#dounart #this case is so special to me like. can you imagine what they went through #it's phoenix's first trial on his own and hus second ever. he just lost his beloved mentor. she's been brutally murdered #and now somehow he has to defend her little sister in trial and going up against the only reason he became a lawyer #he wanted to see him again but this is the worst timing and he has to hold on for everybody #and maya just lost her remaining close family and discovered her body covered in blood #and now she's in a strange place where she doesn't know anybody and she could be executed for murdering the person she loved the most #and her only hope is this strange 24-years old rookie attorney who has no idea what he's doing #yeah... #aadoodles23 #ace attorney #aa #ace attorney fanart #phoenix wright #mia fey #maia fey #doodle #art

[goldengleams]

🫧 Can you write #15 with Quinn Hughes? Thank you!! :)

the proposal - q. hughes

A/N: Once again, college has been so busy that I haven’t had any time to post 😭 Hope you enjoy this, it’s more of a real imagine than a blurb to make up for the long wait! Love you guys :))

You woke up to the summer breeze rustling through your curtains. Your afternoon nap had replenished your energy from your morning out on the boat with Quinn. You had arrived at Quinn and Jack’s lake house just a few days earlier, and Jack had arrived last night. Now, you were waiting on Luke to get in this evening to round out your little group.

You stretched out to find the bed empty, but your hand brushed a piece of paper on Quinn’s side of the bed. To Y/N, it said. You blearily picked it up and read the message inside.

Pick you up for dinner at 6. Dress fancy :)

Love,

Quinn

You giggled at the note, at how adorable it was. You and Quinn were literally staying at the same house but his little plan made you smile. This summer would mark the fourth year that you and Quinn had been together and the first since you two had moved in together. You couldn’t imagine doing life without him anymore.

You picked out a light green slip dress from your closet, one of Quinn’s favorites on you. With the two hours you had left, you put on some makeup and did your hair. You loved that Quinn always made spending time with you a priority in your relationship, even when you had gone on just about every date imaginable.

You walked downstairs at 5:45, not sure what to expect. Jack was sitting at the kitchen counter, scrolling on his phone. He looked up immediately when he heard your heels clicking on the floor, grinning at you like a five year old with a secret.

“Why are you smiling at me like that, Jack?” You chuckled, a little suspicious.

“No reason!” Jack said quickly. “But Quinn will be here soon, he just texted me.”

You nodded and pulled out your phone to check. Quinn had also sent you a message that you had missed.

From: quinn❤️

On my way, see you in a few

You said goodbye to Jack and went to wait outside for Quinn. Before you left for Michigan, you had gotten your nails done and made sure to pack some of your favorite outfits just in case a special night like tonight happened. You raised your left hand and your various rings shone in the light, but your ring finger still remained bare. You let out a sigh, trying not to get your hopes up in case tonight wasn’t the night. After four years together, you knew Quinn was the one, you just had to wait for the big moment now.

Quinn pulling up drew you from your thoughts a few moments later. He honked the horn of the beautiful cream colored vintage convertible he had rented for the night. He hopped out and came to walk you to the car, giving you a quick kiss.

“There’s my gorgeous date for the night,” he said proudly. His comment made your cheeks heat up and you marveled at the way he could still make you blush, even after knowing him for years.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, especially in this fancy car,” you said as he opened your car door for you. Quinn had always been a gentleman to you, it was one of the things you loved most about him. He never failed to make you feel special.

“So, where does this mystery date take place, Captain Hughes?”

Quinn just shook his head as he drove. His hair was blowing softly in the breeze and the summer sun highlighted his features beautifully. You were so gone for this man.

“Can’t spoil the surprise just yet, babe.”

Twenty minutes later, Quinn pulled up to a small restaurant right on the lake. He led you inside and the hostess quickly brought you to a table in a small gazebo, right near the water.

Quinn quickly pulled out your chair for you to sit in and you giggled at his actions. He had always been chivalrous, opening doors for you, pulling out your seat. It was something you had never experienced from guys before Quinn and now you hoped you’d never have to live without it.

You reached for his hand across the table once he sat down, yearning for his touch. His hand found yours and he smiled.

“Hi babe,” he said quietly. It was only the two of you for a good twenty feet, so you couldn’t hear anyone else’s conversations, and you doubt they could hear yours, but leave it to your Quinn to still be soft spoken and sweet.

“Hi Quinny,” you said shyly. “Can’t believe you got a spot here for dinner.”

Quinn knew this restaurant was one of your favorites. It was the place three years ago where he asked you to be his girlfriend. You had an inkling that he had an important question for you tonight.

“Yeah, just wanted to bring you back to where it all started,” he said. “Remember when I asked you do be my girlfriend? I was so nervous that day.”

You could tell he was nervous again and almost started to tease him about, but a waiter came up before you could ask. The meal got underway and you didn’t get to bring it up again. The two of you talked about anything and everything, just like you always did.

Quinn had checked his phone a few times during dinner, typing away on his screen before returning to the conversation.

“Something important on there, babe?” You asked.

“Uh, just some texts about hockey stuff,” he smiled back nervously. You knew he was always busy with captain duties, but you had a feeling that he wasn’t actually texting anyone about hockey. Regardless, you nodded and finished your dinner, which was absolutely delicious as always.

The sun had started to paint the sky hues of pink and purple and you smiled at the beautiful view of the sunset over the lake. This could be the night that you become Quinn’s fiancée. The thoughts swarmed your mind and sent tears to your eyes. You loved Quinn so much, you just didn’t want to wait any longer.

“Y/N?” Quinn drew you from your thoughts.

“Hmm?” You tried not to act like you were totally distracted, but it wasn’t easy. Quinn titled his head like a confused puppy.

“You alright? You looked sad,” he said.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about us,” you said, smiling at him. “I’m the luckiest girl ever.”

“Well, I’m the luckiest guy ever.”

You could tell Quinn got a little startled at your words and how close you were to tears. He thought you had figured him out. He ate the last few bites on his plate as you did the same, and asked if you wanted to go down by the restaurant’s dock with him.

“Sure, but can I run to the bathroom first?” You asked, and he stood up quickly to pull your chair out for you so you could go inside.

“Uh, sure! I mean, yeah, of course, I will just wait here,” he said, tripping over his words.

He watched as you started to walk away from the gazebo and towards the main building and he hastily pulled out his phone. Clicking Jack’s number, he prayed his younger brother would answer in time.

“Yo,” Jack answered.

“Get back in the car or hide or something! She’s coming into the restaurant right now!”

Quinn heard a few curses and some bottles clinking as he assumed Jack and Luke were trying to get up from the bar or a table and get out of the restaurant.

“She’s going in the door near the ramp, so don’t go that way or she’ll see you.”

“We’re not, we’re outside on the patio,” Jack snapped. “You’re bossy when you’re nervous.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. He could make out two tall figures over on the patio deck who were waving at him. Jack had gone to pick Luke up from the airport and they both made their way to the restaurant, along with a photographer, to see their brother propose.

“I’m not nervous, I’m just,” but Quinn didn’t have an answer. Truthfully, he was nervous. He knew he had waited quite a while to propose, not ever doubting your relationship, but just waiting for the right moment. Quinn knew there were plenty of moments in Vancouver where he could’ve pulled out the ring he had picked out for you last year, but none of them seemed right. He wanted to propose to you at the spot where you became his girlfriend, with the beautiful lake and sunset in the background.

“Yeah, exactly,” Jack and Luke chuckled. “We’ve got the photographer waiting, she’s also excited. You got this, okay? She’s gonna say yes, she loves you, Quinn.”

Jack’s words calmed him down a little, and before he knew it, you were walking out of the restaurant. He quickly dropped the call and watched your dress shine in the evening sun. He couldn’t believe you would be his fiancée tonight.

Quinn stood to greet you, reaching for your hand, which you accepted.

“Look at how sweet they are, Quinn,” You passed by a few tables with some older couples, and your heart swelled in your chest. You hoped that would be you and Quinn someday.

Quinn just squeezed your hand, not able to say anything due to the lump in his throat.

“I hope that will be us someday, coming to the lake house and spending summers together.”

Quinn nodded and led you up the ramp, letting you go first so he could locate the photographer who gave him a small wave and thumbs up to indicate she was ready.

“Oh my god, Quinn, look at the sunset!” You walked to the edge of the dock, gazing out into the sky. You were so enamored that you didn’t realize that there were fairy lights adorning the wooden posts on the dock, which weren’t usually there. They twinkled in the waning light, and Quinn wished he was able to see how they lit up your face.

He kept a little distance between the two of you, standing to the side, just like him and the photographer had practiced the day before. Quinn reached into his pocket to grab the little velvet box. He quietly knelt down to your left side as you turned to the right and waited for his moment.

“Oh shoot, I think I left my phone at the table so I can’t take a-,” you said, turning to your left where you had felt Quinn’s presence. Unsurprisingly, he was there, since you could always tell where he was, but shockingly, he was down on one knee, staring at you.

“Quinn,” you said breathlessly, your hand coming to cover your gaping mouth.

“Y/N, I knew from the moment I met you that it was love at first sight. I knew that you were special, and that I would be lucky enough just to be your friend and have you in my life,” he said shakily. “I never thought a girl as beautiful and intelligent and perfect as you would ever walk into my life, but I’ve been so lucky to call you mine ever since.”

You couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes at this point. You had hoped for this moment for years, and there was no stopping the emotions now.

“I’m so grateful that you support me in my dreams and my job and I’m the proudest guy on the ice every time I know you’re up in the stands cheering me on. I could’ve never made it to where I am without you in my life, and I hope you know how much you mean to me,” Quinn said, getting choked up. “You complete my family, my life, and myself in a way that I didn’t think was possible, and I don’t ever want to do life without you.”

“I know I waited a long time to ask you this question, but I hope you know I just wanted everything to be perfect. And I thought asking you here, where it all began, was as perfect as it gets,” he said, opening the small box in his hands.

“Y/N L/N, will you marry me?” Quinn could barely get the words out of his mouth before you were nodding enthusiastically, your whole body shaking.

“Yes, Quinn, yes,” you said urgently. He chuckled nervously and placed the beautiful ring on your left ring finger. You had never put on a piece of jewelry that felt more right.

You pulled Quinn up to kiss him, and finally registered the clicks of the camera and the cheers coming from the restaurant, led by a pair of brothers you knew all too well.

“I knew you were planning something,” you giggled against his lips. “I love you so much Quinn.”

“I love you too, Y/N. Can’t wait to call you Mrs. Hughes someday.”

——————————

A/N: After seeing Jack and his gf this weekend, we all need some Quinn and Luke to heal😭😭😭 Hope you enjoyed this!!

#nhl hockey #nhl #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes being the cutie that he is #quinn hughes again #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #umich hockey

[chlorinecake]

HELLO HELLO, CAN I REQUEST!??!?!

Asking enha legal line to "unwrap" you under the Christmas tree??? HEHEHE

❝ 𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉’𝓈 𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 ❞ ┈ legal!line imagines

⍋ contains nudity, kissing, language, sexual themes, oral (f. receiving), rough sex (in heeseung’s), more suggestive than anything, 200-300 words per member

⍋ These get progressively less smutty as you continue reading, so the drabbles are arranged from oldest to youngest !!

⍋ a/n I switched up the plot for some of the members just so it wouldn’t get redundant [hope you don’t mind 🫶]

이희승 :*: Lee Heeseung - Going to the living room in search for you, your boyfriend eventually found you sitting in front of the Christmas tree, glaring at him seductively in your wrapping paper costume. “Merry Christmas, baby,” you smiled as he drew closer to you, giving you a soft peck on the lips that immediately escalated into a tongue-against-tongue make out sesh. “Merry Christmas to you too, baby,” Heeseung grinned before you broke from the kiss, giving him a snarky look. “This wrapping paper isn’t very comfy, y’know?,” you said, only for things to escalate from there, this little surprise of yours turning him on way more than expected.

“Such a kinky little slut , aren’t you? Wanting me to fuck you under the Christmas tree first thing in the morning?” He said in a low growl, tearing through the wrapping paper. “Heeseun-“

“How about you be a good toy for me and let me have my way with you, yeah?” He interrupted your thoughts with a slam into your needy cunt, the tree lights glistening off your tears as he fucked you nice and hard for all the neighbors to hear. You tried pushing his hips away from you but he only pulled you closer, gripping your waist as he went crazy inside you. “That’s it baby, taking my cock so well. Tell me how good it feels. Tell me how good I’m fucking you,” he groaned hoarsely, your body sliding against the torn wrapping paper beneath you as you clung to his shoulders, sweet little cries falling from your swollen lips. “Feels so good, Hee... ‘love it when you use me like this.”

박종성 :*: Park Jongseong, who got up a little earlier than you, headed straight to the kitchen to make you a special Christmas breakfast. Meanwhile, you busied yourself in the bathroom, wrapping paper and tape in hand to surprise Jay with something a little different this holiday season. “Guess who?” You chirped in a playful yet seductive voice, covering his eyes as he stood before the stovetop in his apron. He fanned your hands from his vision, turning to see your costume.

"Oh. I didn’t know we were doing presents first,” he smirked, turning off the fire and lifting you to the cabinet. “With the look on your face, I can’t say you seem too against it,” you teased, right before he parted your legs, tearing the cheap wrapping paper as your back met the cold countertop. You were putting up a front to rile him up, when deep down, you were the one craving to be touched more than anything. “Hmm,” he hummed through hazy eyes, taking in the view of your amazing figure as his hands ran all over you. “Well in that case, I suppose breakfast can wait a little longer,” he said, spitting in his hand before palming your bare pussy, his initially playful demeanor becoming much more dominant as things continued.

심재윤 :*: Sim Jaeyun - You made yourself a makeshift mini skirt and bra out of wrapping paper and gift bows that morning. Why? Because you wanted to cheer up Jake with a silly surprise after he wasn't able to visit his parents for the holidays. He had just came back into the living room with a blindfold over his eyes as you instructed him to wear, clear tape sealing the imperfections in your costume. "What is this all about anyway,” he asked, slightly confused.

“Nothing, just keep walking,” you giggled playfully.

“I know that voice, angel… you're up to something, I just know it."

"Well why don't you take off the blindfold and find out then?”

He didn’t hesitate to remove the covering from his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips at the sight of you beside the Christmas tree, wrapped like a present. It made your heart flutter seeing that his smile returned, but it made something else flutter when he met you in the ground, removing the wrapping paper from your body with his teeth as you stared back at him with lust ridden eyes. It was only a matter of time before his mouth met your throbbing core, sucking on your clit as his fingers worked wonders in you, all in preparation for you to take him.

박성훈 :*: Park Sunghoon - You woke up Sunghoon by calling his name in a sing-song voice. it took you a while to get past admiring his sleeping form before you brushed his hand with a tender kiss, waking him from his slumber. It was Christmas morning, and you figured what better way to start the day after being touch deprived thanks to your busy work schedules than with a little teasing? "Morning, baby," you smiled, leaning in to leave another peck to the mole on his nose, eliciting a groan from him coupled with a few lazy flutters of his eyes.

The cutest smirk creeped on his face as he felt you on top of him, slightly circling your hips. "What's all this," he groaned in a husk voice, noticing the gift wrap you wore around you. "A gift... for you... but only if you promise to let me stay on top," you cooed in a seductive tone. "On top, hmm?" He asked, grabbing hold of your hips as he rolled you to the other side of the bed, caging you beneath his broad figure, "like this?" His hand gripped the bed frame, the sight of his flexed arm muscles distracting you as you heard a tear in the wrapping paper, followed by cold air hitting your nakedness. "This’ll work for now, but only because I’m too horny to say otherwise.”

김선우 :*: Kim Sunoo - “Tell me what you want for Christmas. Anything! And I’ll make it happen for you,” your cheerful boyfriend smiled, holding your hands tightly in his as you sat in the living room.

“What if I asked you for something silly?” You asked, shyly losing contact with his eyes as you crossed your legs. “Anything means anything, my love. It’s worth it for you, now tell me what you want!!” he giggled, tickling your stomach as you swatted his fingers. “YAHH, fine, okay, lemme think first," you sighed, eating one of the gingerbread cookies from the plate before it finally hit you. "Wait- Just give me oneeee second, I'll be back!" Sunoo had no idea what you were thinking, so you can imagine the shocked look on his face once you returned, wrapped up like a Christmas present.

"My question was supposed to answer what you want, not me," he smiled softly, pulling your arm as he leaned in for a gentle peck to your lips. "I knowww… and I'm getting to that part right now," you smiled, sitting beside the Christmas tree. "I want you to unwrap me… and underneath, there'll be a surprise for you, too." He didn't hesitate to start ripping at the paper, mirroring the excitement of a kitten until his eyes widened at the sight of the white lingerie set you wore beneath, dainty bows and silk fabrics captivating him. "____," he stuttered over your name as you pushed him on his back, straddling his nervous frame. There was still one more thing you wanted from Sunoo this Christmas, and judging from the look on his face, your minds were both in the same place now.

양정원 :*: Yang Jungwon - He was busy getting extra covers for your movie night from your shared bedroom when he heard a terrorizing shriek from the other room. "Wonieeeee~" you cried out, making the most of your acting abilities. Obviously, you were perfectly fine, but you couldn't think of any other way to show off the wrapping paper two piece outfit you'd made than by making a big scene. "Baby, baby! Where are you?" He called out, sliding around the floor with his socks in a frantic search for you. That's when he heard you giggling in the living room, sighing slightly as everything started to sink in: you were messing with him.

"I should've known," he smirked in satisfaction and slight dumbfoundedness, taking in the view of your festive paper costume and complimentary Santa hat accessory. "Should've known what?" you asked teasingly, inching closer before pulling him into you by his lower back. He found it amusing, really… the way you tried to assert dominance over him, giving him a proud look that he knew would only take one of his kisses to wipe away.

"You're naughty, I get it..." he whispered, tossing the hat from your head before leaving a kiss to your temple. And another to your lips, then to your neck. "This now, movies later," he said in a deep voice, the wrapping paper costume you wore already long gone as his hands explored the red lingerie you wore beneath, his lips never leaving yours as your cold bodies grew more and more needier for each other.

౨ৎ Tysm for reading! Not gonna lie, this was pretty shitty but maybe you guys will like it more than I do :)) Feel free to check out my enhypen bookshelf for more fun reads, and happy holidays ~

౨ৎ [Permanent] Taglist: @squoxle @ashgonedash @nikisdubblchococake @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33

#enhypen #enha imagines #enhypen headcanons #enhypen ff #enha scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #heeseung smut #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #sunoo smut #jungwon smut #enhypen boyfriend #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enha smut #heeseung #requested #enhypen scenarios #18+ content #yang jungwon #lee heeseung #park sunghoon #park jongseong #enhypen suggestive

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: To Make me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: To Make Me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: You bought a life-size puppet in terrible condition and restored it. But now it doesn't want to let you go.

For Horrorfest request:

Might be cheesy, but Scaramouche haunted puppet for horrorfest? Maybe reader inherits an uncannily lifelike doll, or finds him as an antique?

Word count: 1156

notes: yandere, puppet shenanigans

“He’s creepy,” your friend says. Her nose crinkles and she puts a hand up as if she can ward away whatever haunting abominations she imagines must be inside the doll, waiting to slither through her nostrils. “And weird,” she continues. “And broken.” 

The doll has colorful blue hair and most of his strings are missing; one of his eyes is missing its pupil and an arm is cracked, a jagged wound that goes all the way to the fingers. If the doll were to be lifted, the damaged pinky on that arm would probably come right off--maybe the forefinger, too. He’s dirty and wearing only some cast-off shirt, itself probably too damaged to be sold by the secondhand store. 

Your friend moves on, eager to head to the second floor where all the nice, expensive secondhand goods are kept, often behind glass cases so they don’t get damaged by looky-loos.

But you stay where you are.

Because the moment you took one look at the damaged life-size puppet propped up at the back of the store, in the same pricetag-less limbo as piles of tupperware with no lid, ripped books and ugly dolls missing arms, and your heart swelled. 

“He’s perfect.” 

--

The pinky on the damaged arm did come off before you even left the store, but you were able to salvage the original forefinger. The pinky, sadly, couldn’t be repaired--but you made a new one using the original as a mold and unless you’re staring quite intensely (which to be fair, you often do, when working on the puppet) you wouldn't be able to tell that it’s not original to the hand. 

“I’d like to keep all your original parts as much as I can,” you murmur in the direction of the puppet, currently propped up on a chair you’d dragged into your workroom for the sole purpose of letting him have somewhere to sit while you worked. “You really are exquisite, you know? I can’t believe someone let you get into such rough shape.” 

You sigh, lamenting the treatment of such  a unique piece of craftsmanship, and place the finishing touches on the puppet’s repaired eye. The pupil needed to be filled in with new material but you went ahead and refreshed the iris of both eyes to make them look newer. 

“Good as new, see?” You hold up both repaired eyes to the puppet, but realize your mistake when you’re greeted with a prim looking puppet with two black holes where his eyes should be. 

“Oops.” You carefully slide the eyes back into the socket, fiddling with your finger until they slot right into place. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking. There!” You grab the magnifying mirror from your desk and hold it up in front of the puppet. “Now, see? Much better.”

It took a few months of work, but the puppet was just about restored, in your view. You’d even bought a new outfit for him, a simple white blouse with ruffles and plain trousers. It wasn’t exactly what you imagined he might have worn originally, but that was fine. 

“I’m glad I found you,” you say, to the puppet--and to yourself. “I’ve had a really nice time working on you!” You hum to yourself and start tidying up your work bench. “Now all that’s left is attaching your new strings, and I can have you picked up.” You smile, to yourself, to the puppet, to no one in particular. “I can’t believe that antique shop gave you away for free--they had no idea they were sitting on such a rare item!” 

But you, who repaired dolls and the like for a living, immediately knew what the puppet was worth; and who to contact as soon as you were able to get it home, as you knew a friend with an antique shop that took special requests, and he had a particularly wealthy customer who was dying for one of these rare life-sized pieces. 

The puppet with freshly painted eyes stares back at you and says nothing.

--

Something is sitting on your chest. Something heavy and cool to the touch. 

Sleep paralysis?  It wouldn’t be the first time. You did sleep on your back, after all, and your nights were sometimes restless. 

But you open your eyes without trouble, and the sensation does not go away. It takes a few moments, blinking in the dark, to realize who (no--what) is sitting on you.

It’s the puppet. 

Freshly painted eyes stare down at you, a face framed by the carefully sewn-in hair. In the dark, you can’t see the wood grains of his skin or the repair marks that you’d buffed until smooth. All you can see is his human shape, the gleam of glass eyes. 

“What--” you say, before a wooden finger presses to your lips.

“You were going to sell me.” It’s the puppet--the puppet is speaking.

You nod, terrified, every nerve in your body inflamed.

This can’t be happening, and yet it is. 

“Why?”

Your lips are dry and you stutter out an answer, hoping to wake up from this dream at any moment. But the more time goes on, the more you realize that you’re living in reality. An awful one, but reality all the same.

“I-I needed the money, you… you’re worth a lot.”

There’s a sound that comes from the puppet’s wooden throat, but you can’t quite place it. 

“You can’t sell me,” he says, simply. If you weren’t sure that you’d lost your mind, you might say that he sounds upset. Not just angry, but--hurt. 

“I-I won’t.” You swallow. “Just um. Get off me and I can…”

“No.” The glass eyes bore down on you, and you wish your eyes weren’t becoming accustomed to the dark. It was better not to see the cool stillness in them, unmoving, unblinking.

It’s then that you notice the strings.

Not on the puppet--but on you. 

The strings are wrapped around your wrists, tight, pinching into the skin. When you look up you see he’s attached them not to a marionette control bar, but to his own fingers. To himself. 

He raises his repaired pinky and your wrist goes along with it--too fast and harsh, nearly flopping over your face.

”Ah.” He regards your flopped appendage with curiosity, before simply lifting it himself and placing it back on your chest. “Well. I’ll have plenty of time to figure that out.” 

He leans forward, pressing his weight down on you, until his face was close enough that you could spot your own work; spot the little fine details in the paint, the grooves of his wooden flesh, the way his hair fell in a certain manner thanks to the placement of your carefully created knots. 

Oh, you thought, as his face came closer to yours, as he kissed you with puppet eyes wide open and wooden lips stiff. 

The paint on his lips needed to be touched up. 

#yandere scaramouche #yandere genshin impact #yandere #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest #scaramouche with abandonment issues but in puppet form! dun dun dun

[babygorewhore]

Enter Sandman

Rafe Cameron x fem alternative reader!

After being hired by Rafe Cameron to be Wheezies music teacher, he asks you to give him his own lesson.

Hi so this is kinda short and I lowkey wanna burn it. And is it self inserted? Yes. But that’s fine. Anyway. Warnings! Oral! Male receiving! Daddy kink! Unprotected sex and praise requested by @gri959 I hope you like it baby!!! Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx and barely proofread please be nice to me I’m sensitive.

Getting the email that Rafe Cameron hired you to be Wheezies music instructor truly was the last thing you expected Monday morning after opening your computer. You scoffed and had half a mind to reject the offer. You’d known each other through high school and he was an asshole to you. Made fun of your pogue status, style and your role in the band you were in. You’d even slapped him across the face one morning when he’d really pissed you off.

But you were both adults now. And the pay wasn’t something you could afford to say no to. Wheezie was requesting singing and guitar lessons. You worked for a company that sent you to Kooks homes for hour sessions. Sometimes two if they doubled the offer. You were scheduled today at four to go to his house.

It gave a list of her experience in the email and it wasn’t much. She’d briefly been in choir before her fathers death completely changed her schooling. You honestly felt sorry for her. First the loss of her father and now she was apparently living with Rafe.

You sighed and went to your music room where you kept special instruments and books for students. You selected a small electric acoustic guitar, one with a smaller body and thinner neck to accommodate her size. It was smooth to the touch as you gently picked up the case as you slung the bag filled with beginner books across your body and made your way out of the door of your apartment.

The house was even larger than you’d imagined when you arrived and parked in the driveway. You swallowed to give your dry mouth moisture as your boots crunched the pavement as you walked the path to the front porch.

You square your shoulders and ring the door bell.

Wheezie answered and gave you a grin. Her eyes brightened as she swept them over your instrument and she ushered you inside. “You’re right on time!”

“Yeah! I try to be.” You smiled at her as she walked you to the living room, the large space immaculately clean. You felt nervous to sit down in fear you’d mess up a pillow or something.

The first twenty minutes you established goals, genre, her vocal type and finally a lesson plan. She was a willing student and picked up on the first round of exercises rather quickly. A spark of excitement went through you as you adjusted her fingers on the neck of the guitar, she wasn’t quite strong enough to make a lot of noise on the strings but it wasn’t bad.

“You can stop watching us, weirdo.” She says and breaks your concentration as you tune your guitar again and your head snaps to the right.

Rafe was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his expression intrigued as he studied your hands holding the neck and body as you absentmindedly strummed. “Oh, hey.” You forced a polite smile and he nodded.

You stand and gently place the instrument on the stand. You walk over to him, listening as Wheezie hums her exercise and attempts a power chord. “Thank you for hiring me. I was surprised to see the email.”

He shrugs with a little eye roll. “Yeah, well you’re good. I remember you playing back in high school.” You snort and cross your arms.

“Yeah? I remember you being an asshole to me.” You remark and he gives you a half smirk.

“How can I make it up to you? Wanna teach me a couple things? You can show me how to play Enter Sandman. Isn’t that what your band played at the competition?”

“And won.” You smiled and he chuckled. “You serious about me teaching you something?”

“Sure. I mean I’m going to have to hear it for months aren’t I? Might as well fuck around a little.” You bristle at the flippant wave of his hand before nodding. “We can go in here.” He gestures with his head before walking to the other room.

“Hang tight, okay?” You tell Wheezie who gives you a half hearted mhm.

You follow him after grabbing your guitar, trailing after his tall body as he meanders to the kitchen and sits down at the table. “What? You don’t want Wheezie to hear you?” You raise your eyebrows.

“She’s fine. Are you afraid to be alone with me or something?” Rafe challenges and goosebumps rise on your arms.

“No. Of course not. I just don’t know why you’d want to hide your poor attempt at playing a secret.” You snort and he scoffs.

“You think I’ll be terrible? My own teacher, doubting me? I’m hurt, baby.” He places a hand on his heart and your own flutters at the nickname before you clear your throat.

“Well, let’s get started.”

He takes the guitar and places it across his lap. Rafe runs his fingers along the strings, testing them as his rings squeak against them. You move to settle in the seat next to him before he bends his hand awkwardly, his wrist shifting and you quickly stop him.

“No, no, see if you do that, it’s going to hurt overtime. What you want to do is relax your wrist,” you step behind him and lean down, adjusting his hold. Your mouth inches away from his ear. “Okay…that’s better. Good job,” You mutter and you notice a patch of his skin heating.

Rafe moves in his chair, his legs spreading wider and you place your fingers on top of his. “Perfect. That’s great. Just keep the pressure there. Don’t strain your arm.”

“Mmm, sounds like you enjoy telling me what to do, huh?” He quips and you pause. You go to move around him but he catches your arm. “No, keep going. I like hearing you boss me around.” He winks.

You roll your eyes before settling behind him again, your chin rests on the back of the chair as you strum with him. Rafe’s hand strength allowed him to make more noise with the strings but you noticed his lap. The way his body shifted. He was fucking hard. And that’s when you had an idea.

“You know…I think we should make sure you’re really paying attention.” He half turns at your words.

“Yeah? How’s that?”

You shrug and trail a finger along his shoulder and arm before you sink to the floor in front of him with a smile.

“Play exactly what I showed you. And try not to mess up.” You tell him as your hands find his belt, you undo it and tug his pants down. You palm him in the middle of his boxers, feeling his cock against your hand and he inhaled sharply, hitting the wrong note.

“Rafe. Try again.” You pull down his underwear to his mid thigh, his heavy dick slapping against his thigh and you moan at the sight of precum leaking from the tip. “If you don’t fuck up, I’ll let you cum.” You order him and swipe your tongue along the vein before dragging it out. You spit on your hand and find his balls, massaging them as you kitten lick his tip.

You take him between your lips, his soft skin against yours as you dig your nails into his thighs and he huffs out a breath but he plays the correct chord. You take more of him down your throat, your tongue working the underside of his cock as you start to move your head around and he hits an incorrect one. You start to pull back a little but he quickly corrects it. “Mmmm,” you moan as he hits the back of your throat.

“Not-fucking-fair.” He hisses as he continues to shakily strum as you gag around him before sloppily pulling off him, arousal pooling out of your mouth and your core tightening from his dark gaze on your face.

“Who said I play fair?” You challenged with a smirk and he growls before setting the guitar down on the floor, reaching forward to haul you on his lip.

“You wanna fucking play a game? Fine. But don’t forget who’s in charge here, baby girl.” Rafe slaps your ass and lowers you down on his cock, your covered cunt soaked as you grind down on him, your hips moving in a slow rocking motion. His hand moves to cup your neck.

“Dirty girl. Wanting to ride my dick with someone in the other room? Making yourself my own little fuck toy.” He squeezes your throat a little tighter as your hands settle on his shoulders, gripping tight as he slides your panties to the side and sinks you down on his cock.

His shaft fills you to the brim as you settle onto him, throwing your head back as you jerk your pelvis and take him more, your lips finding the crook of his neck and you suck his skin, making sure to leave a little bite mark.

“Fuck-“ he exhales and his fingers find your hair, pulling tightly. “Gonna make you spill with my cum. You gonna take it like a good girl? Take daddy’s cum in that sweet pussy?”

You whimper against him as he guides you while you bounce, his grip sliding to your tits and he gives them a gentle squeeze, testing the waters before your climax approaches while he pinches your nipples. Your cum gives him extra slick as he jolts harder, his own release spilling into you and ropes of cum fill your insides.

It drips out of your cunt and onto his lap. You both tremble as he holds you close, brushing a few stray hairs out of your face. “So. How did I do for our first lesson, baby girl?” He smirks with a half laugh.

You shake your head and climb off, adjusting your fumbled clothes. “Not bad.” You look him in the eye and cast a glance over your shoulder. “But I need to get back to your sister.”

“Yeah. You will. And then you’ll come back to me. I really wanna test how good of a teacher you are. I already forgot all the shit you showed me. I think I need a reminder.”

As you walk away, you realize something. Your panties are gone and you half turn to see him pocketing them with a wicked grin.

@xxbimbobunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @drewstarkeyslut @redhead1180 @emsgoodthinkin @take-everything-you-can @drudyslut @slvt4jamesmarch @valeskafics @rafescurtainbangz

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x smut #drew starkey #Drew Starkey smut #drew starkey fanfiction #outerbanks #outer banks #outer banks smut #obx #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron imagine #rafe fic

[prettylittlels]

my picture (tom blyth x reader)

summary: just fluff

a/n: i love this concept! i had been thinking about it for a while. but please send request cause i don't have any more ideas 😭

🍂💫🥨🌇🪐🧵

tom visiting your family would be the most heartwarming thing you'll ever see. imagine him, being so excited to meet the people who raised his wonderful s/o, bringing them gifts and food showing his appreciation. if you had foreign/ immigrant parents, he'd start studiyng their language weeks before meeting them, so they don't think he's disrespectful. and your family? oh, they would love him. since you didn't bring that many boys around home, they noticed you had something special. your dad would tell him embarrasing stories, and your mum would show him childhood pictures. there was one where you were covered in mud, dirty after playing with your cousins, where you looked like the happiest kid in the world. tom gasped at the sight and asked if he could keep the small frame. tom still has the little picture, hidden in his leather wallet.

-tom, love- you ask your partner sweetly -can i borrow 10 pounds?-

-yeah, of course- answers the taller man -just grab some money from my wallet-

you search through your purse for the brownish bag. tom had developed an annoying habit over the years: if he needed to bring something, instead of putting it in his pocket or using a backpack, he left his stuff inside your purse, stuffing it full.

-here it is!- you said triumphantly

opening the wallet, you search for the cash. one 5 pound bill, another 5 pound- wait. what's that photo of you doing in here? you take out the small print out of its tight storage space to inspect it better.

-tom?-

-yes, baby?- he responds, his charm evident in his speech

-where did you get this?- you wave the picture in the air.

tom blushes furiously. his most prized possesion has been discovered!

-your mum gave it to me the last time we went to your parents' house - he admits shyly -i asked her if i could keep it and she said yes-

you start to smile but hold it back as you take something else out of the bag: your phone. you give it to tom and wait for him to do something.

-what do you want me to do?- he laughs at you

-open the case-

tom carefully takes it off your phone to find another little picture, but this time its his. six-year-old tom clad in a blue and yellow bathing suit, only his skin was redder than the red roses that appeared in the background.

-where did you get this?- he confronts you, slowly inching closer to you

-your dad-

- our parents sure love to embarrass us- laughs your boyfriend

-not like i love this picture of you- you say, grabbing him by the waist and bringing him closer

-i think yours is better, love - and he wraps his arms around your middle

-i hope our kids have pictures like that or worse so we could gift them to their future boyfriends or girlfriends-

he leans in slowly and places s soft put passionate kiss on your lips. you tighten your grip on his waist and his hands travel. one goes to cup your cheek, and the other cups your ass.

you start to deepen the kiss even more when he squeezes your butt twice and pulls out of the embrance.

-i'd love that- he adds, while looking down fondly at you.

#book recommendations #bookworm #tom blyth x you #tom blyth x reader #domestic fluff #tom blyth

[multifandomslxt]

NCT 127 and their sugar daddy ratings PT.1

part two coming soon as well as a svt and skz version

Johnny Suh

9.5/10 ( less .5 because he refuses to use the title of sugar daddy, instead he prefers "sponsor".)

He's a CEO. No questions about it.

The man is Fucking RICH

You met through a mutual friend

talked a bit and you ended up telling him that

you were currently taking a year off because of a financial bind

Lies to you and tells you he sponsors college students sometimes

and that he would like to sponsor you

Of course you immediately accept the offer

so begins the sugar daddy antics

Would spoil you,

And I do mean

SPOIL YOU!

The song 'Sexy' by JoeVille

"you can do anything you want when you sexy"

Is something he literally lives by

you can do no fucking wrong in his eyes

you're his princess

went on a business trip once and came back to tell you

he bought you a whole penthouse apartment

just in case you wanted to "Study abroad"

buys you EVERYTHING you could ever want

demands you call him "Mr. Suh"

in your eyes its because he wants respect

in his eyes its the closest thing to 'daddy'.

Forbids you from getting a part-time job because

"I can take care of you. Let me take care of you I'm your sponsor after all."

Buys you an expensive necklace for your graduation present.

Then finally reveals that the whole sponsor thing was just him spending his personal money on you.

and so begins the sugar baby-to-girlfriend pipeline.

treats you the same except

now yall are having sex 6/7 days of the week.

Jung Jaehyun

10/10 (bitch he's perfecttttttt)

Another CEO

He ain't rich like Johnny though

This bitch right here?

he is ✨ WEALTHY✨

LOVESSSSSSS TO SPEND HIS MONEY

You met while you were at work

Everybody knew him

and you were the waitress in charge of his table

First thing you realized about this man

he doesn't speak to many people

Someone literally ordered for him

anyways

imagine your shock when you're about to clock out and your

co-worker tells you "Y/n, Mr. Jung would like to have a word with you. He says to bring your stuff with you"

His security leads you to his car and you step in

Jaehyun is literally staring at you the minute you sit in the car

"I'll be straight to the point, I have a meeting to get to in the next 10 minutes. I want you."

Cue the shocked look and silence

However, y'all start to date.

yes, he's your boyfriend and your sugar daddy

as I said, he enjoys spending his money

but only on very specific people.

takes you all over the fucking world you hear me???

Paris has seen your face more than your local chick-fil-a

the type to buy you anything you look at

even if it was for a mili second

this explains how your closet is now overflowing with designer dresses

also, you're a curvy queen

listen closely

HE WILL BE BUYING YOU EVERY DESIGNER BODY CON DRESS TO EVER EXIST!

this is his fav so simple yet so effective (he's convinced you're trying to k!ll him)

that dress got you a fucking range rover babeee

and it also got you a few days of sick leave from the "unnecessary job" as Jaehyun likes to call it.

completely reaaranged your guts lmaoo

And the lingerie??

its tradition he buys you 10-15 sets every Friday

"Y'know daddy'll give you the world right?"

Lee Taeyong

9/10 (he was awkward at first lmaoo)

First off you don't know what he does

but the bitch got MONEYYYYYYYYYY

You met on a sugar baby app

you were just trynna make ends meet

he was just trynna get rid of the extra money he got

his first text to you seemed so damn auto mated lmaooo

"hello, I'm Taeyong! Would you like to continue this conversation?"

you were like "???"

but yk eventually yall kicked it off

gave you his card pin after your third date

"Anything you want Daddy will buy it for you okay?"

omfg

the type to set up an account for you just for your hair and nails

fucckkkkkkk

he even sends you what he wants you to get.

Just so yk

Them Fulani braids

will send him in a coma

he loves frenchies too

so expect alooottt of special requests

he expects to see your personal purchases on his bank statements

don't play with him.

got his bank statement once and dint see your daily coffee purchase

fucked you into oblivion just for that.

he pays your rent

and is also planning on buying you 2 cars for your birthday

one for everyday use

and the other for special occasions lmaoooo

"Just let Daddy take care of you okay?"

Nakamoto Yuta

11/10 (Bitch...it's literally Yuta)

You also don't know what he does

but as usual, he got money

somehow WEALTHIER than Jaehyun

Yall met through a sugar baby app

he was experimenting

and you were new to this

has a specific amount of money he must depend on you at the end of every month

over 200k

I said what I said

yes you are his sugar baby but he was very clear

when he told you that he is also the MAN in your life

ain't nobody supposed to have access to that pu$$y except him and you

got that??

s3x with him is surprisingly rare btw

he's wayyy too busy to be around you 24/7

hence the over the top 200k budget

always has eyes on you even when he isn't there

you went grocery shopping n the wrong side of town once

and he called you the minute you got home

"What did I tell you about putting yourself in danger princess? do you want me to come home early and teach you a lesson?"

probably the most possessive out of all of them

#nct imagines #nct yuta #nct fanfic #nct taeyong #nct dream #nct doyoung #nct fluff #nct 127 #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct mark #nct taeil #nct jaehyun #nct jungwoo #nct johnny #nct haechan #multifandomslxt

[camaro-and-smokes]

✨ This is my contribution to the Harringrove Relay Race! ✨ @harringrove-relay-race

Screwdriver

S: I'm not looking to fuck right now, but my bathroom sink is currently flooding the bathroom

S: I know it's kind of random, but can I borrow a flathead screwdriver by any chance?

S: I don't really know my neighbours and you're the closest person to me on Grindr

S: 😅

Billy stared at the four messages he'd received, not quite knowing what to think about them. They were from Steve, the guy he'd been messaging on Grindr for a while here and there.

It had been a kind of a mistake for Billy to even see Steve's profile. Steve had said he had been meaning to delete the whole profile since all he'd gotten through it was heartache and pain, but then had decided against it. Billy had the same kind of experience, so he'd suggested that they could just talk. And Steve had agreed.

They really didn’t know that much about each other, they talked about just casual stuff; work, TV shows and such. But Billy didn’t have anything special to do that evening, so why not. Steve seemed like a decent guy and Billy had an extensive selection of tools at home because of the Camaro he’d kept as a second car since it always needed something to be fixed.

B: Yeah why not.

B: Send me your address and I’ll bring it. BTW you should turn off the main water in case you haven’t yet.

Billy put his phone into his back pocket and went to the garage to rummage through his tools. Soon the phone blipped with a message.

S: Thanks, the water’s turned off. I’m panicking, didn’t even think of that. The address is 357 Oak Street, 3rd floor.

Billy snorted.

B: No problem. I'll be there in fifteen.

Steve didn’t actually live that far from Billy, which was surprising. Billy was sure he had never seen Steve around. Brown-haired, doe-eyed and tall men were his kryptonite. He was pretty sure he’d remember a guy looking like Steve.

He parked his truck and Steve buzzed him in.

Billy stepped out of the elevator in Steve’s floor. It wasn’t hard to know which one was Steve’s door: it was the one ajar through which he heard cursing. He walked to the door and knocked on it before opening the door wider.

“Hey, it’s Billy,” he said after he opened the door and couldn't see anyone in the corridor.

“Yeah, come in, I’m a bit busy right now,” came from somewhere behind the open door. “Shut the door.”

Billy closed the door and turned to look at the corridor opening behind the door – and almost inhaled the gum he’d been chewing, followed by a coughing fit.

Steve was on his knees on the bathroom floor, leaning under the sink into the sink cabinet – his ass high up in the air, clad in nothing but wet, green basketball shorts that were glued to his ass and his hairy legs – jesus christ how can someone be that hairy – and not leaving any other assets to imagination either.

He backed out from the cabinet, turned around and sat on the floor. “Oh good, thank fucking lord,” he let out, looking tired but clearly relieved. When he saw Billy all red from coughing, his expression turned worried. “You okay?”

Billy nodded, still trying to catch his breath, and lifted the toolbox in his hand.

Steve got up and walked to the bathroom door, looking flustered and rubbing his hands to his thighs.

For fuck's sake would you stop doing that Harrington.

Billy was half hard already from seeing that wet ass, no further sights needed.

“I wish we could’ve met under other circumstances,” Steve said, smiling awkwardly, not knowing where to place his hands, on his hips, his arms crossed, again finding their place on his hips. He pointed at the toolbox. “Uh… I needed only one...”

Think about the tools. THE TOOLS.

“There are more than one size,” Billy croaked before coughing a few last times to his sleeve. “You didn’t tell me which, so I brought all I have.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Billy asked, his brows raising.

This is turning into a porn film cliché.

Steve turned red and grimaced, trying to turn it into an awkward smile. “Like I said in the message, I panicked.”

If he curls his hair around his finger and bats his eyelashes a few times I swer I won't be able to hold it.

Billy looked Steve in the eyes for a moment, trying to concentrate to all possible horrors of mismanaging a burst water pipe or a broken tap could cause. Then his eyes fell to Steve’s chest and the dark hair, a lot of it, that was clearly visible under the wet white t-shirt and he felt himself blushing.

Act normal, act normal, act normal....

To keep his thoughts on the task, Billy set the toolbox on the floor and took off his jacket and set it on the chair that was in the corridor. “Okay, let me take a look. Is the floor wet?”

Steve shook his head as he stepped aside to let Billy into the bathroom. “Not anymore. I mopped the floor, but I just didn’t see a point in changing clothes. Didn’t want to get the rest of my wardrobe wet.”

The bathroom was small, so they brushed against each other just a little as they passed, enough for Billy to get a whif of Steve's scent. He smelt of cedar wood, hairspray and a little sweat – a winning combo, apparently, since Billy's had to hold back a whimper and lock his eyes to the sink cabinet. “You didn’t think to call a plumber?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even, as he squatted in front of the sink and looked into the cabinet to check what kind of screws he had to open.

“I did. The one I reached said that if the drain isn’t clogged and the tap isn't leaking there’s no point in me paying for the nighttime extra and that he comes to fix it first thing in the morning. But he said that I should get rid of anything that’s under the sink so that he can get to work when he arrives. So I was doing that when I realized that I didn’t even have a coin I could try to pry open the screws.”

Billy took a deep breath. “Okay, well, that’s good. Based on your messages I was afraid that you were trying to fix the pipes with the screwdriver.”

Steve snorted, amused. “Well, I might not be a handyman but even I’m not that dumb.”

Billy looked up at Steve with a smirk. “You need to take this cabinet out for the plumber?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, it’s good then that I brought my whole toolbox then because not all of these won’t open with a flathead, they need a Phillips.”

“They need a what now?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrows.

Clueless pretty thing, definitely checks the box.

Billy got up and chuckled. “I’ll take the cabinet apart for you, now that I’m here. But could I get a glass of water first? The coughing…”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Steve said and left the bathroom to fetch it.

Billy was setting up the electric screwdriver when Steve returned with the glass.

Steve was still wearing the same wet clothes, because of course he was.

I want to claw those off and bury my face into that chest hair.

Steve looking down at himself all of a sudden made Billy realize that he had probably stared a bit too intensively and blushing. He downed his water quickly before handing the empty glass back to Steve.

“Uh… I’ll leave you to it,” Steve said, smirking. “I'll go change.”

Yeah, you had to point that out. What, you want me to follow instead of taking this shit apart and fuck your brains off?

Well, okay, maybe Billy wanted to do that, but that was not what they'd agreed upon. Better if he stayed on his lane, for now.

This isn't a porn film, not a porn film...

“Yeah, this shouldn’t take long,” Billy replied, not daring to look back at Steve again, and got to work.

Once he had taken the cabinet apart he put away his tools and looked into the living room where the bathroom opened to. Steve was sitting on the couch, staring intently at his laptop and tapping away. He was wearing eyeglasses, something Billy hadn’t seen in any of the photos Steve had shared online. They fit him, framing his face nicely. Billy's eyes wandered lower and he realized that Steve was wearing only sweatpants, his glorious chest hair all on display. There was a lot of it indeed.

I want to press my nose into that, snuggle into it, run my fingers through it, tug it when I come. He cleared his throat. “Uh, I took the cabinet apart.”

Steve looked up, smiling and put the laptop away. “Hey, that’s awesome. Thanks, man! How can I repay you?” he asked as he walked to Billy.

Do not think about it, do not think about it, DO NOT…

“Uh...” Billy managed to get out, rubbing his neck with his hand. This wasn't a fucking porn film, he reminded himself, even if a handyman came to fix something at the house and oops, only the good looking little missus is at home, wearing skimpy clothes and instead of fixing anything they end up fucking against the kitchen counter like horny bunnies. Okaaayyy, well, Steve had been wearing wet skimpy clothes that left nothing to imagination and now he was wearing even less, he was maybe also a bit clueless and…

Billy tried to keep his head in check and glued his eyes on Steve's face. “Can I take you to dinner?”

Steve raised his eyebrow and measured Billy from head to toes with a lazy gaze.

Billy felt naked.

Steve smiled. “Uh… Should I be the one doing that, though?” He was quiet for a moment and smirked. “What if I'm all out of money and you have to get your pay, are there other ways I could do that?”

Billy swallowed and turned beet red. He let out a laugh and licked his lower lip.

Steve hooked his right thumb on the waistband of his sweats, pulling it down a bit and revealing the beginning of a very hairy happy trail.

The fucker.

Billy started to unbutton his shirt. “Well... Maybe we could come to a mutual agreement about that.”

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Please look forward to the lovely, wonderful and amazing work from the next contributor @hg-deranged-edition

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The ficlet is based on this meme:

#harringrove relay race #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #harringrove fic #steve x billy #billy x steve #suometar writes #stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington

[raayllum]

ALRIGHT, time to talk about the poster in lovely HD.

First things first, I want to talk about these two ladies (?). The upper one closer to the moon looks more like an elf, and is gazing down at the second, closer woman. I've seen people speculate Ziard due to the hair, but none of this usual clothing appendages are there, so I lean towards a new character, and possibly being the human Aaravos had a special connection to. We see what looks like the arches of the Moon Nexus framed behind them, which was the case both when Rayla went through the portal in TTM and when Lujanne used historia viventum to show Callum the way things looked before. Souls of hate and love, maybe?

We see other Moon symbols throughout the posture sure as archangel lunarises, which seek out Moon magic (1x01) and can be used in illusion spells (2x03, 3x09). We also see the enchanted lotuses from 3x03, though for what purpose is unclear (more on that later).

Moving down, we have a fully celestial, quite happy Aaravos. He's in full flourish and clearly using Moon magic for someone, as begetting the moon behind him, though whether he's constructing lotuses or channeling energy into his Key (perhaps making it able to sense Moon magic) is unknown. While the lotuses in 3x03 were occasionally different colours, the deep purple here makes me think of dark magic. If he is channeling his cube, perhaps he's taking moon energy from the lotuses (or moths) surrounding him to put inside.

I don't think I need to scream much further than I already have about the Moon rune glowing on his Key and having it displayed with his usual star symbol (rune cube foreshadowing symbolism my beloved). This bodes well for theories in which 1) Callum goes too far and does something knowingly risky to free the Moon fam for Rayla's sake or 2) does something risky to help Aaravos to protect Rayla's life, each subsequently to being possessed and/or playing into Aaravos' hands. Thank you goodnight.

Then we have the book, which is deeply fascinating. It seems like a very Moon book, the fragments framing it similar to the ones we see on the lotuses and possibly evoking one of the archangel lunaris' flying around. It wouldn't surprise me if the book contains a variant of Deep moon magic of some kind, whatever that would look like. The crescent curved moon is also similar to the symbol we see on Aaravos' poem page for the Midnight Star in show (2x08). I do wonder why each side of the book looks so different though, with no actual visible moon in sight besides the tiny gemstones and the crescent moon, the other side being entirely dark (which, to be fair, is pretty moon-y).

We also sort of but don't quite see Aaravos' famous chest piece, though it is a-glowing. Whether it glowed all the time pre-Fall we just don't know, as the only time we've seen it glow/be filled in is 2x09 when he's channeling magic through Viren, but who knows. It does mean that the cube is even older than his banishment and that if it does hold his chest piece, it was placed after (if it's tangible at all, which has always been one of the biggest questions).

This is perhaps the weirdest thing that I am the most interested in, as alongside his crown and bangles, this is the biggest design difference between Aaravos in-show and out. In show, both in his mirror and even 'pre-Fall' (aka the timeline for the 1x01 shot is probably a lie anyway), Aaravos' hip thingy is a lot more simplistic.

However, Aaravos does have all his flowery (and I mean that literally, it looks like petals) adornment in his concept art.

The fact they have a lotus flower flair to them always felt interesting but ultimately like a coincidence, but perhaps not. Either way as pictured below, it seems like he's either constructing or dismantling the lotuses, which is Eyes Emoji either way.

The most... surely metaphorical / abstract portion of the poster, though, is I'd imagine the very bottom. I hesitate to read into things too literally (one of the S5 posters had Finnegrin's ship being blasted with lightning and Domina watching the waves, and while she featured in the season and played a role in Finnegrin's aims, the scene itself as portrayed did not come fully to fruition) so I'm gonna go with a more symbolic read, just as as disclaimer.

Lastly we have these two figures. I'm assuming the one in white is an elf and betting on young Aaravos or Leola, though it could be someone else connected to the Moon arcanum (the elven daughter who vouched for exiling rather than eliminating humanity?). The red and black shadow figure feels far more sinister (blood and stardust, anyone) but if you lighten the shadows, you get something even more... interesting, shall we say.

Rather than standing up straight, this figure almost seems to swoop down with a draconic like claw and a face that reminds me the most of Sir Sparklepuff's features, honestly, perhaps boasting a similar kind of blood (Viren's) and star (Aaravos) and dark magic (the staff?). It is also clearly moving toward the more humanoid figure on the bottom right, which gives a "corruption is reaching / coming for / offering things to you" sort of vibe.

#tdp meta #tdp #the dragon prince #tdp spoilers #s6 spoilers #promo art #official art #tdp aaravos #aaravos #s6 speculation #s6 #arc 2 #predictions #analysis series #analysis

[elliesstrapon]

-------✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯-------

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡“ Birthday Sex „ ♪°

.・゜-: ✿ :-

✧ Pairings: Ellie Williams x Reader

✧Summary: Ellie wants nothing more than for you to have an amazing birthday; she shows you the time of your life 🤭

✧Warnings: nsfw, smut, (r! receiving/ fingering), Ellie is a sucker for teasing, oral, alcohol, swearing, dom Ellie, flirty reader, I will TRY not to use Y/n please hear me out. Also not very good at writing this stuff so you know.. Anyways enjoy :))

___________________________________

Ever since you'd turned 17, your birthday hadn't really meant much to you, the presents were cool, the cards were alright, it just wasn't anything new to you, it was the same thing time after time again.

And of course today was no different, you were 20 years old. And reasonably so; you weren't doing anything, at all.

Or.. so you thought. Since you'd moved to Jackson (two years prior), your friends insisted on making every day special. Something about "making every day count," and, "You never know what could happen" is typically what Dina and Jesse would say. You'd told them repeatedly you couldn't care less even though you appreciated it, and up until now Ellie never cared what you did for your birthday, she just followed, stayed quiet, sometimes you thought she didn't even like you at all. You guys didn't have anything special and you only hung out because of Jesse, you never talked, nor walked together or went out, when you thought about it really hard, you didn't even know if you really had an opinion on Ellie; she was just there.

Clearly, you were much more than you thought.

"Jesse, has Ellie told you anything?" You asked him, you guys were walking through Jackson, getting fresh air. "Uh.. Depends, like what?" He averted his gaze to the mountains in the distance. "She asked to see me.. like later.. at her place." You let out in disbelief. "I mean, I don't even think she LIKES me, Jesse, she never even spares a single glance at me unless absolutely necessary."

"Okay, well now, I don't think that's true" Jesse chuckled, rolling his eyes and paused in his tracks, bringing you to an abrupt stop as well. "She stares at you all the time, what the hell are you talking about?!" He laughs. "Jesse, no offense, but you're the LAST person I trust with this.. not even going to lie." You sighed. "Remember at the dance, you thought Dina'd dance with you, and just like that it was ELLIE she grabbed? Can you imagine the second hand embarrassment I felt? I had to leave." You joked. "Okay stop, I'm serious." He furrowed his brows. "In any case, she doesn't not like you, trust me, I see her looking at you all the time. You could ask any other person in Jackson and they'd tell you." He assured you.

"Whatever... Thanks." You smiled. "Anything for you" He winked jokingly. "When did she want you over? What'd she even say?" He suddenly brought up.

"Uh, I don't know, it was something like; 'Come over later, wear something nice, don't be late', type shit, it felt kinda rushed if I'm honest." You huffed.

"Weird, I haven't heard any special events round' town for tonight." He thought, watching the horizon absent mindidly. "Yeah.. Whatever she just said I had to be there at like, what? Maybe 7:30?" You tried to recall. "Well you might wanna get ready then, it's 6:00" he checked his watch. "Oh! Shit!" You gasped. "Ugh I had no idea.." You groaned. "Thanks Jesse, I'll update you tomorrow?" You tapped his shoulder, not giving him a chance to respond. "K, bye!"

You raced home, not too far from where you and Jesse had been and decided to get ready, you still weren't sure what the deal was, why suddenly your birthday mattered to her, or why you had to look nice; you just went along with it.

In the depths of your closet you found a black off the shoulder dress. You weren't aware why, or how long you had it. But regardless you slipped it on, it was slim, and fell just beneath your thighs, it assentuated your hips, it was soft, comfortable, you couldn't see yourself wearing anything else 'nicer' than that.

You slipped on your bracelets and a random silver chain necklace and tied your hair how you always did. And checked the time one more time.

‘ 7:00 ’, the clock read. You decided if you were going over, you might as well be a bit early. You left your home locking the doors and made your way to her place.

As you got closer, your heart began to pound. Anything was about to happen, good or bad, suddenly everything you thought about Ellie before had changed. You were repeating how you'd say hi to her, or how she'd react when you got there early, and suddenly that snow ball of thoughts stopped.

Ellies door. You didn't know whether you wanted to knock or just run back home. You breathed deapily, raising your hand to the door, you finally knocked a tune, like in those movies you'd watched with Dina and Jesse.. and Ellie.

Your heart began to race again, as you heard the door knob shake, you let out an equally as Shakey breath when the door opened to an oh so attractive Ellie Williams, standing— no towering over you, with her hooded green eyes and soft looking hair just barley covering her eye brow slit, you couldn't stop, just her muscular arms, and exposed collar bone, to her tattoo, that you had no backstory on what so ever, all you knew was just how she was so fucking hot right now.

"Hmmh.." she hummed. "you're early." Her voice was raspy. "Happy birthday, beautiful." She said taking a long sip from the moonshine bottle you hadn't even noticed she'd been holding the whole time.

Your face began to heat up, you suddenly felt very dizzy, "uh, thanks" you mumbled. She set the bottle of moonshine on what you assumed was a dresser next to the door. "Well? Are you coming inside or not?" She sarcastically said; as if she wasn't smack-dab in the center of the door way. She moved to the side allowing you to enter before closing the door quickly behind you.

It was a open concept type of thing, her bedroom was also her living room, her living room was her kitchen, on the contrary, it was still spacious, she had posters across the walls, her guitar by her couch, she had fairy lights hanging above her bed and a few video games by her TV at the foot of her bed on the right. "Sit where you'd like" she husked. "okay," you breathed, at this point you didn't know how to breathe at all and your words came out without any articulation.

You sat on the couch by the window, taking in the rest of her room, her decor, she sat beside you.

"So.." You started. "Uhm.. why'd you want me over..?" You trailed off and your eyes wandererd, too scared to look into her eyes in fear you'd freeze then and there. "I mean, I got all dressed up, and I don't see anything special" you joked, attempting to lift the awkwardness you casted upon yourself on your own. "Really?" She chuckled. "Yes, really" you rolled your eyes, "Who invites someone over telling them to dress up with no intention of putting in effort yourself?" You furrowed your brows at her "no cake, no decorations, what was the point?" You finally kept eye contact, counting the freckles across her cheeks like constellations, and taking in every hue in her eyes.

"What makes you think there was a point?" She grimaced before every so slightly shuffling towards you. Making your heart skip 2 beats in a second. "I don't know, you don't talk to me" your voice was low, "doesn't mean I don't wanna see you." She started. "With a pretty face like yours, who wouldn't wanna see you?" She whispered. The room began to feel warm. You couldn't think of or look at anything but Ellie, her lips, her neck, you couldn't unfocus yourself from her breath which smelled like alcohol, and yet you still wanted to kiss her more.

"You don't mean that" you lightly sighed out back, starting to feel the sweat form at your neck and forehead.

She shuffled closer to you, leaving you about 3 inches apart, her breath and body both warm. "I do" she smiled. Her arm had appeared at your side all of a sudden, you didn't even know how long it'd been there, and her words were starting to be engraved in your mind. "So what? What're you trying to say?" You raised your brow, trying to stay confident, but the space that was so quickly closing between you was making your heart beat faster and faster by each passing second. "I don't know, what do you think?" She whispered back to you, her smile never dropping; it was the prettiest, you found yourself longing for something to happen already, for her to kiss you? Maybe scootch closer to you? If that was even possible, you were an inch and a half apart, you needed her to lean in already, her strong moonshine scent coming from her small breaths, her body radiating so much heat was almost unreal. If you kept looking into her eyes any longer, you thought you'd get lost in them. "Ellie.." you huffed. You didn't know what to say, or do, you wanted to beg for her to finally do something.

She began to lean in closer, taking that as the green light and she only smiled brighter, you thought how could she be so hot and so cute at the same time? When did the tension become so high. " 'm gonna make you feel so good." She whispered before finally kissing you, so gently yet so roughly; like she'd been waiting for the moment she got to ruin you from inside and out, her lips were wet, and soft, her hands found there way up to your cheeks to cup them, every part of her was just so soft. You held onto her waist as you kissed back. Nothing filled the room but your desperate need for breath and your small whines, she bit on your bottom lip, causing you to spread them, taking the opportunity ever so quickly, she inserted her tongue, you began to moan into the kiss, her hands were roaming your body, feeling every single part of you, and all you could do was grip at her hips harder.

Your tongues danced around, sliding against eachother, if heaven were a person; you'd one the lottery, you were seeing stars, the gates of heaven themselves.

She'd started to pin you down, her knee centered between your legs causing the slightest ever contact, you felt so weak. "Shit.." you moaned, breaking the sloppy kiss. She left kisses around your lips, taking in every breath you took, her kisses started to be left from the corner of your lips to your neck, she nipped and sucked at it, every hickey she'd left was the vague image of almost a butterfly. "You're doing so good, princess" she grinned against your skin, the kisses tracing along your collar bone, "mmhn" you let out, her hands made there way up your dress, playing with your thigh and circling her thumb, out of all that'd been happening, it was the most comforting.

"Take it off" she demanded. "What?" You breathed. "Your dress, take it off" she commended again, you obeyed, you sat up slightly beginning to slide the dress off you put on not even more than an hour ago. "Fuck" she whispered. The last bit of ease you had was gone. You felt exposed.

Her kisses continued from your collar bone to your chest, "fuck you're so beautiful" she gasped against your sweaty hickey stained skin. Your hand played in her hair, roughly keeping her head in place as she left thousands more of wet kisses on your breasts. "Look who's talking" you winced at her hand cupping one of your boobs, her hand soft and gently playing with them. She smiled at your remark. She left another bruise against your skin once more, moving on to your stomach, she licked and traced kisses down your happy trail, "mmhn, god.." your whines and needy moans filled the room. "If you were any louder, Jackson'd here you" she teased, getting close to your clit, her hand was still rubbing circles up your inner thigh. Your pussy was throbbing in your own wetness, you hadn't even realized had stained your panties. "Wet already?" She smirked looking up at you, "who knew you were so turned on?" Her hooded eyes darkened. You swore you could see the amount of unresolved lust behind them now. "Who's not turned on by you?" You flirted back, spreading your legs more so she wouldn't have to ask. "You have no idea what you're doing" her voice was low, leaving kisses inside your thigh near your entrance. She was testing you.

Her kisses become long hard bites, leaving and sucking on the hickeys. "Ellie..." You whined. She looked up at you once more before grabbing the hem of your panties, sliding them off so slowly the throbbing only quickened, she had barley done anything to you and your climax wasn't far off. "I'm gonna ruin every last organ in your body" she seductively smiled.

She raised her hand towards your mouth, "suck" she said, her ring finger and middle finger near your mouth.

You agreed to her request, sucking on both, leaving a string of salvia around them. "Fuck" she groaned. Looking up at you still, "You're doing so good, babe." She whispered, she felt so weak, it almost made her angry. "Mm" you hummed still sucking down her fingers with your warm liquids. "Good" she smirked at you.

She lined her fingers up with your entrance. "You ready?" She looked to you with consent. "Mhm" you heaved.

She started rubbing your clit, her pace slow, "Ellie what the fuck, please—" you begged. "Desperate?" She smiled up at you, her pace increasing just the slightest bit, if she wasn't so slow you probably wouldn't have noticed the sudden quickness. "You listened" you said inbetween irregular breaths. "Maybe I shouldn't have" she teased again before rubbing her fingers faster.

She finally slid them in your entrance, swiftly, it caught you by surprise. "Shit!" You cried, the pleasure washing over the pain, you arched your back, trying to create more friction, somehow get her deeper inside you. "Shh, it's okay" she kissed your neck, your face, everywhere, calming you down so she could adjust her long slender fingers inside you. She kissed you one last time before moving her fingers in and out of you slowly. "You okay?" She asked concerningly, "yes, go— please" you begged, the tears pairing with the beads of sweat on your forehead. Her pace quickened, filling you to the max, "mmnh! God, Ellie, shit-" you cried again as she hit your g-spot so much it felt illegal how good she was at it. "You're doing so well" she kissed your shoulder as she pounded her fingers in and out of you much like how much your heart'd been pounding an hour ago. But much better, she scissored, and pumped her fingers in and out of you so fast, and hard, you could nearly see the end of the world. Every inch of you was trembling, your finishing near and her kisses sweet, it was so much better than a cake, or birthday presents.

"E-ellie, I'm close" you cried, your legs shaking and her fingers doing you so hard it was other worldly. "Don't" she said, suddenly pulling out. "What?" You gasped "Ellie please.." you pleaded. You needed it so bad. "Please just let me" you begged. "I'm not done, gorgeous. You think I'd let you finish without letting me eat you out?" She smirked.

"Shit" you whispered, "don't worry, I'll let you" she smiled "I just need you so bad" she started kissing you inner thigh once more, trailing up sloppy kisses until your clit again, giving the same treatment she'd did your bruised skin, she began to suck at your pussy, sucking it occasionally, her tongue circled, and ate at you, her saliva leaking from you. "God.. mmhn.." you whined as she licked and sucked faster, the circles she was leaving with her tongue turning just as lazy and needy as her wet kisses previously. "Fuck. You taste so good.." she whispered, eating you out like a full course buffay. "Ellie please" you trembled, you legs couldn't stay still, her tongue still licking your clit. "I'm so.." you trailed off catching your breath. "I'm so fucking close" you finished. You could feel it hitting your stomach so low. "Even better" she smirked, she began rubbing your pussy with her fingers as she ate you out, swirling her tongue over and over again, you were wet, and covered in sweat and hickeys.

"Ellie!—shit oh my— fuck of my god" you cried, cumming inside her mouth, "good girl" she said, swallowing every single last bit of it, "Ugh" you sighed. Catching the breath you'd missed the whole time.

"you did so good" she said, lifting her head from your pussy. "Ellie, shit." You breathed. "What'd you think I was trying to say?" She pinned her arms above you, looking down on you, she smiled at the mess she'd made. "Shut up" you sighed. "That's how you wanted to tell me?" You raised a brow, your hair completely undone. "Happy birthday" she joked. "Sorry" she apologized. "Did it work though?" She smirked. "Fuck yes" you smiled. "I'd do it all over again" you fluttered your lashes, grabbing her tatted arm, leaving a trail of kisses.

"Fuck"

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Round 2 but REVERSED. Sorry it was so rushed this is not my best and it was so difficult I'm never writing smut again (I definitely will) sorry it sucked though😕✋

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #reading #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #ellie smut #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #smut

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 3: Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together?

You and Joel come up with a plan. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 2, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Some mild diet talk, no explicit mention of reader's weight or size (beyond she is smaller than Joel but my Joels are all giant, OK? Joel is like 6'5" Joel is a big big man, big big man). Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Sir, I can’t just… Well, I understand that you say that but…” 

Amanda, the sophomore girl who worked the front desk of the English department offices, frowned, phone clutched against her head. 

“I understand that,” she said again. “But she’s a special case, Professor…” She flinched and glanced up to see you coming in, looking relieved. “Sir? Give me just one second and I can check…” She pressed the hold button and lowered the receiver. “Professor, I am so so sorry, I know we’re not supposed to send unexpected calls or emails through to you but do you know a Joel Miller? He’s insisting he’s a friend of yours and…” 

You raised your eyebrows before answering. 

“Yeah, I know Joel. Go ahead and transfer him back to my office. And if he ever gives you a hard time again, tell him to fuck off.” 

Amanda looked relieved and took Joel off hold as you went to the end of the hall and unlocked your door. You didn’t have to share an office like a few other people in your department. One of the perks, you imagined, of being a big name that got the university some attention. But you hadn’t done much with the space yet, the only thing on the wall a framed poster that the dean had waiting for you when you started there. 

Your phone rang just as you set down your bag and you picked it up, tucking it against your shoulder. 

“Yes, what do you want, I’m busy being very famous and important,” you said with a slight English accent. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize best selling authors were such a hot commodity,” Joel said. “Should I make an appointment?” 

“Probably,” you replied. He snorted. “What’s up?” 

“Did you know that you tried to put your number in my phone the other night?” Joel asked. “Note that I say ‘tried’ because what you actually did was put something in my notes that has four numbers and then seven symbols which, if you’re counting, ain’t even the right number of digits.” 

You scoffed. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t change your passcode or set an alarm for 4:30 in the morning,” you said. “Sounds like you got off easy.” 

“You’re a menace.” 

“I know,” you said, smiling a little to yourself. “So why were you looking for my number on a Monday morning?” 

“Because I was looking for your number on a Sunday morning and ended up shit outta luck,” he replied. “Figured I could catch you at work. They got you all locked down over there, huh?” 

“Trying to discourage random readers from contacting me here is all,” you said. “There was a problem with that at Brown right when the book first got popular. I don’t think it’d be as much of a problem now but still, administration thought it was smart. Speaking of which, don’t be a shit to my office aide.” 

“Makes sense, I guess,” he said, ignoring your last comment. “Think you can put me on the list of people who are allowed to talk to you? And on the list of people who are allowed to bring you food?” 

“Bring me food?” You frowned. 

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I was hoping I could do that. Like… today. In an hour or so. If you’re not shaping young minds or whatever.” 

“Don’t you have work?” You laughed. 

“New job starts tomorrow,” he said. “And I don’t exactly have a lot of time without Sarah where I’m not at work.” 

“And you want to see me?” 

“No, I figured I’d just call and annoy your secretary as a new hobby…” 

“Office aide.” 

“You free for lunch or not, Goldie?” He said, exasperated. You resisted the urge to laugh. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m free. I have a class gap from 11:30 to 2. I can meet you somewhere…” 

“I’ll just come to you,” he said. “Assuming that a fancy schmancy professor will still eat tamale lady tamales…” 

“OK you could have opened with tamale lady tamales,” you said. “Buried the lead there, Miller.” 

Joel laughed. 

“I’ll give you my number and you can text me where your office is,” he said. “Then I’ll have a way to contact you that isn’t fucking gibberish. See you in two hours.” 

You put his number into your phone and texted him. He responded with a screenshot of your note with the message literally none of those numbers are right which made you laugh. 

It was hard to focus as you taught your next class, checking your watch every few minutes to see just how much time had passed. You were keyed up, stomach tight, and you tried to talk yourself down as you walked half way across campus back to your office. 

It was Joel. Just Joel. Sure, before Friday, you hadn’t seen or talked to him in years but falling back into friendship with him had felt so easy so far. He was safe and comfortable. You’d spent every day with Joel once upon a time. 

But that felt so long ago now. You were different people then. Joel was a jock who pretty much just hung out with you and tried to speed run his way through every hot girl in school. You were a geek who spent her entire life either trailing along behind Joel or with her nose in a book. A lot had changed in the last decade and a half. Joel had a kid. You’d gotten married and divorced. Well, almost divorced. Nothing was finalized yet but you’d stopped wearing your wedding band when you moved to Texas even though it still sat on the ring stand on your bedside table. 

After Friday and Saturday, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to see Joel again. You hadn’t gotten his number and you remembered nothing of trying to put your number in his phone while you were drunk. You weren’t sure if it was going to be a fluke, just a blip on the radar of your lives that had gone on totally disconnected paths for more than a decade, or if this was something that would continue. 

You weren’t sure what you wanted. Losing him the first time had hurt. It might have been the worst thing that had ever happened to you, even worse than losing your mother, than watching your sister sister fall apart in slow motion over the last decade, than your father entirely. Was it something you could survive again? Was it something you’d need to dig back up and talk through with Joel now that you were speaking again? If that was what he needed, was that something you could handle doing? You weren’t sure about any of it. 

But you were already starting to think that you’d go along with anything Joel wanted as long as you got to keep him around this time, just like high school. He’d been the sun and you’d been caught in the gravity of him. You wondered if you’d ever escaped it at all. 

You straightened up your office a bit, not that you’d had much time for things to get too messy. Most things were submitted virtually now, though you insisted on poetry being printed to make sure formatting was maintained, and most of your personal notes were contained to planners and notebooks that were in orderly piles on your desk. You were absently checking your email when there was a knock on the frame of your door and you looked up to see Joel standing there, a foil covered plate in one hand, two glass bottles of Dr. Pepper in the other. 

“Oh my God, is that Dublin Dr. Pepper?” You gaped at him. 

“Technically no,” he said, coming in and setting a bottle down in front of you. “Stopped making it at the Dublin plant years ago but basically the same thing. Hi, by the way.” 

“Hi. And I’ll take basically the same thing,” you said, leaning forward to peer into the hall. “Do me a favor and close the door?” 

He nudged it shut with his foot and you took the bottle, popping it open on the edge of your desk. Joel sat in the chair on the other side of your desk before he followed suit, smirking as he did. 

“I didn’t want witnesses if I broke the desk I’ve had all of a month, OK?” You said. 

“Goldie, I don’t think you could break the desk if you tried,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. You did the same, humming a little in appreciation. You rolled the liquid on your tongue like you would a wine, the bubbles crackling and dancing there before you swallowed it. 

“God, that’s good,” you said. “I can’t remember the last time I had a soda that wasn’t diet…” 

“Christ you sound like a Yankee,” Joel laughed, sitting back in the chair. “That’s a Coke in your hand, darlin’, not a fuckin’ soda.” 

“Oh God,” you groaned and laughed, too. “That was such a hard habit to break! I’d ask my roommate if we had any Cokes, she said no, I’d go in the fridge later and see Diet Pepsi and have a what the fuck moment.” 

“Strange world out there,” Joel smiled slightly, turning the glass bottle that looked so small in his large hands. 

“Are these the tamales?” You asked, nodding at the plate. 

“Oh, shit, yeah,” he said, taking the foil off the plate. The corn husks glistened and you groaned a little. Joel pulled two sets of plastic wrapped silverware out of his pocket and handed you one. “How long’s it been since you had one of these?” 

“I don’t even want to own up to it,” you said, unwrapping the fork and knife. “I’ve basically been on a diet for the last decade of my life, these look incredible.” 

You wheeled your office chair around the desk and sat next to Joel before peeling back a husk and cutting the end off with your fork and taking a bite. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you slumped back in the chair with a satisfied moan. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“That good, huh?” Joel laughed.You just nodded, mouth full, and sat up to cut off another bite before you even swallowed the first one. “Diet for 10 years?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, covering your mouth with your hand until you could swallow. “There was the book tour, they wanted me to look a certain way. And… well, my husband has a type so…” 

“Fuck that guy,” Joel said, opening another tamale and taking a bite of it. You rolled your eyes a little. “Mean it, fuck that and fuck him.” 

“Oh, so you don’t have a type?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I seem to remember a very distinctive type in high school…” 

“Oh lord,” he rolled his eyes. 

“Pretty, for sure,” you said, teasing a little. “You definitely seemed to be a bit of a boobs man…” 

“If I were with someone I sure as shit wouldn’t make them fucking diet to be my type,” he cut you off. “He’s a fucking idiot, Goldie.” 

“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it really is,” you waved him off. 

“No, I’m really not,” he replied. “If we’d been talkin’ I’d have fuckin’ come to Rhode Island and kicked his sorry ass.” 

“Joel,” you rolled your eyes. 

“What?” He asked. “I would’ve. And he’d fuckin’ deserve it.” 

“Anyway,” you said, cutting off another chunk of tamale. “You’ve got a new job starting tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s one that I’m actually lookin’ forward to, too. Get to be a little more creative…” 

“You don’t normally get to be creative?” You frowned. 

He scoffed. 

“Not on any of the big shit,” he said. “Owners and managers get to do that. They toss me the smaller projects here and there to plan and run, this one is some owner’s suite remodel. Doin’ the bathroom, fancy fucking closet, that kind of shit. They’re letting me run it so I’ll shut up about never getting to do the fun stuff.” 

“How long have you been working there?” You asked. 

“Since I was 20,” he said. “So… fuck, 13 years? Jesus, I’m getting old…” 

“And they’re not letting you do the creative stuff?” You asked, brows raised. 

“I’m apparently ‘too valuable’ runnin’ the crew,” he used air quotes. “They throw a few of these little jobs to me every year but mostly I just make sure shit goes right on site for bigger jobs. Get it all done on time, all that.” 

“Do you like doing that?” You asked. 

“Not really.” 

“OK,” you frowned. “So why are you still there?” 

“Well, mostly because I tried paying my mortgage once with dreams and they told me to fuck off,” he said dryly and you glared at him. 

“You know what I mean,” you said, cutting off a chunk of his tamale. 

“Hey!” 

“Shove it,” you popped it in your mouth before he could take it back. He rolled his eyes. “You’ve been doing that work for a while is what I mean, I’m sure somewhere else would hire you and you could do the parts of it you liked.” 

“What I really want is to start my own company,” he said. “Well, what I really want is to play music but that ship’s sailed. Realistically, I’d like to start my own company. I think I could make some really cool shit if I had the chance.” 

“So do it,” you shrugged. 

“Oh yeah, easy for you to say,” he scoffed. “What, you just write your fuckin’ book?” 

“No,” you said. “It took a lot of work and editing and rewriting and I’m not sure I’ll ever do it again but I did it. You can do it.” 

“What do you mean you’re not sure you’ll ever do it again?” He frowned. “Thought I saw somethin’ about you writing another one.” 

You looked at him for a moment, frowning a little, fork frozen over the plate. You were contracted for another book but that wasn’t something that had made national news, just an item in some industry publications after the press release from the publisher. 

Why would Joel know that?

“What?” He asked. “Why are you starin’ at me?” 

“Oh,” you said. “Just got something on your face…” You dipped your fork into some of the drippings on the plate before smearing it on Joel’s cheek. “Just there, nothing crazy.” 

He pursed his lips and looked like he was struggling not to laugh. 

“You’re the worst person I know,” he said, wiping his face with a tissue from the box on your desk.

You smirked, sitting back in your chair and putting your legging-clad legs in his lap, the way you used to sit with him on the couch back when you were teenagers. 

“I know.” 

“I’m serious though,” he said, the hand not holding the fork going around your calf just like it always had. “What do you mean you might never do it again?” 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, peeling the husk off another tamale and cutting off a bite of it. “I don’t know that I have another story to tell. I’ve been trying to tell another one and I just… haven’t found one. I think I had one good story in me and I told it. That’s the end.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Joel said. 

“It’s really not,” you shrugged. “When I wrote the first one it just kind of flowed. At least the first draft did. I wrote it in about six months after my mom died and Gale…” 

“Brad.” 

You glared at him. 

“Gale,” you repeated. “Edited it and workshopped it with me.” 

“Oh I’m sure he was a fuckin’ natural at that,” Joel said, voice dripping in sarcasm. You glared at him. “What, you’re telling me I’m wrong? I don’t think I am…”

“He was well equipped for the job,” you allowed. “And yeah, it took a lot of edits and rewrites before it was ready to even start trying to show to agents, it was years of work… Who would I do that with now? I don’t know that I can do it by myself…” 

“Do it with your publisher and shit,” Joel said. “Come on, don’t tell me that jackass is what’s holding you back…” 

“It’s not just that. I really don’t know that I have anything else to say. And even if I did…” you took a deep breath. You’d never said this aloud, not even to your agent. “If I did, what if it’s not as good?” 

Joel waved you off. 

“Of course it’d be as good, the fuck are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about the fact that everyone freaked the fuck out about the fact that my ‘debut novel,’” you put the words in air quotes, “was so brilliant and shit, what if I never write anything better? What if everything I ever make after this is a let down? What if I never do anything good again? Everyone who took a risk on me, everyone who read my first book, everyone who ever thought I could do something will be let down by it. Jesus, one reviewer said it was the best debut novel since To Kill a Mockingbird, how the fuck am I supposed to live up to that? Starting to understand why Harper Lee didn’t publish anything else for decades…” 

 “Goldie,” Joel said gently. “I’m sure you’d write something great.”

You poked at your tamale, staring at it as you did. 

“What if the only great thing I ever made was great because of him?” You asked quietly, eyes darting to Joel for a second before looking back at the plate. “What if it was just fine when it came from me and it only became what it became because of him?” 

“Anything you’d write would be great, got nothing to do with fuckin’ Brad,” he said. “Not sure you can write something that’s not great.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Joel, you read the articles I wrote for the school paper,” you said. “I don’t think you’re a fair judge.” 

“And your lit mag stuff,” he said defensively. “Look, I’m not a genius or anything but I’m smart enough to know when something’s great and you’re great, alright?” 

“Yeah, well…” you nudged his leg with your knee. “So are you.” 

He just looked at you for a moment until you frowned. 

“What?” 

He leaned forward with his fork, smearing some tamale drippings on the tip of your nose.

“Got something right… there.” 

You laughed and he squeezed your calf and you cleaned your face before you went back to focusing on the food and life outside of your broader ambitions. Before what felt like too long there was a knock on your door and Alyssa poked her head in. 

“Sorry, didn’t realize you had company,” she smiled, her eyes drifting to where your legs were still in Joel’s lap. “I was just going to put a note on your desk, I figured you’d be at your next class already. Have you written your midterm yet?” 

“Not yet,” you said, looking at your watch and you realized it was far later than you realized and you had less than 10 minutes to walk to your next class. “Shit, I have to go!” 

Joel released your leg from his hold and you scrambled to collect your things as Joel cleaned up the remains of lunch. 

“If you wanted to write midterms together,” Alyssa said as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “Maybe next week?” 

“Sure,” you said, looking around at your desk and grabbing your gold notebook before standing next to Joel. “Email me?” 

“Yup,” she smiled, looking Joel up and down. “Absolutely will. Hi.” 

“Hi,” he said, smiling a little. You looked between them and fought the urge to groan. She was just Joel’s type. 

“Alright, some of us have to go teach,” you said. “Out of my office so I can lock up.” 

You ushered them both into the hall. 

“Have fun teaching,” Alyssa waved, giving Joel a last look before heading to her office a few doors down from yours. 

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you said, taking Joel’s hand and pulling him along behind you before he could start gawking at her and then you were really late for school. “See you later…” 

“What was that about?” Joel laughed as you spilled out into the hall that was tight with the press of students. 

“I know your type,” you said. “And I don’t have time to wait for you to be done doing your thing…” 

“My ‘thing?’ And you know my type?” He asked, brows raised. “Really? Well, in that case…” 

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes and he laughed. 

“I came by to see you, for the record,” he said. “And apparently feed you properly since you aren’t gonna do it yourself…” 

“Thank you,” you said, sincerely. “That was really good. And it was really nice, hanging out with you.” 

“It was good to hang out with you, too,” he said, smiling a little, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Should let you get to class though. Those minds aren’t gonna shape themselves. And I have your actual number now, not the fuckin’ hieroglyphics you tried to leave me Friday…” 

“And I have yours,” you smiled back. “But I do have to go…” 

“Right,” he said, leaning in and pulling you into a hug and holding you close for a second. He was warm and his chest was firm and there was something about the way his arms fit around you that was so all encompassing you were certain that you belonged there with him. That, somewhere in the universe, the root of you both had grown together and separated just to find each other again. He pulled back. “Don’t let those college kids give you too much trouble.” 

“I won’t,” you said. “Don’t let Sarah give you shit.” 

“Oh, I will,” he said. “Can’t help it. Bye, Goldie.” 

You smiled.

“Bye, Joel.” 

You were three minutes late to class. You didn’t care. 

When you got home, you went to one of the boxes you hadn’t unpacked yet, one that sat in the  extra bedroom that you hadn’t found a use for yet. You knew exactly which box, the one filled with things you only looked at when you were feeling especially strong or particularly weak. You sifted through old notebooks, past one of Joel’s faded band t-shirts that you’d swiped at his house when Tommy had knocked a cup of Kool-aid over when you were wearing a white shirt and Mrs. Miller and scrambled to get your top in the wash to get the stain out and then you’d never given it back, down to the shoebox of photos. You pulled it out and looked through them. Joel at 16, a confused look on his face as he lay on the wheeled contraption he used for sliding easily under his truck and you surprised him with camera, a splotch of grease on his cheek. You, 17, in Joel’s letterman that was big on him so it was massive on you, sleeves shoved up around your forearms as you stuck your tongue out at the camera. The two of you, 16, sitting on opposite sides of a restaurant booth, your legs stretched out on the benches, a basket of fries and a milkshake between you. You were flashing a peace sign at the camera and Joel was looking at you, a soft smile on his face. 

It was easy to remember what friendship with Joel had been. It would be so easy to fall back into it. It felt like you were always supposed to be this way, lives so intertwined they were built on the same foundation. It had seemed an impossible thing, to blow it all apart. You’d loved it then. You missed it now. But it had blown apart and you weren’t sure you could survive losing it again. 

You sighed, flipping to the back of the box to the photos from prom night. Your mom had sent them to you after you’d moved to Rhode Island and they’d languished at the photo lab for weeks. There was a simple note: “Thought you might want these,” a little heart drawn at the end. 

You found the picture of the two of you together, your hand on his chest, his arm around your waist. You were looking up into his eyes and he was looking into yours, a small smile on his face, just enough for the beginnings of his dimple to show. You looked at it for a while before you signed, packing everything else away and moving to your office, propping the photo against your computer as you sat down to write. 

***

Sarah had been in rare form that night. Very skeptical about why she needed to do homework at all and trying to logic her way out of needing to do it for as long as she possibly could. 

“Kiddo, if you just sat down and did it, you’d be done by now,” Joel had groaned at one point. 

“But if I just didn’t do it, I’d be done by now, too,” she replied. 

He took a deep breath. Sometimes, this girl… 

“Not on the table, Baby Girl,” he said. “You can either do your homework now and have time to watch TV before bed or you can not do your homework and fight me on it, not watch TV and get up early tomorrow to finish your homework. Up to you.” 

She groaned, picking up her pencil, bouncing her leg impatiently under the dinner table. Joel wasn’t sure who was happier when the damn worksheets were done, him or his daughter.

Once Joel was certain Sarah was asleep, he went to the back of his closet and found the box that he kept stashed away. He didn’t have to look far, the two copies of your book right on top. One was signed. He didn’t open that one, just looked at it now and then, held it when he wanted to touch something you’d touched once. 

The other had a worn spot on the spine, where the structure of the book had cracked and bent enough times because he’d tried to read it dozens of times but could never bring himself to go past the first page. 

He liked the cover of it, certain that you’d had a hand in picking it. It was simple, an orange sun with a gilded flower in front of it, the title, Halcyon, in bold letters below the abstract image. Joel flipped past the pages of praise, the title page, the table of contents, the forward written by fucking Brad. He turned until he got to the words that were yours. He knew they were yours, he recognized the voice of you, even on paper. No matter what you said, there wasn’t an ounce of Brad there. At least, not on that page.

“The sun in Texas was hot in summer,” you’d written, “melting ice cream and asphalt in equal measure. But it was the heat of his palm that made my cheeks burn…” 

He closed the book, looking at the back cover with your picture on it. Your arms were folded so that one was in front of you, the other vertical alongside your face. Your gaze was intense, a knowing smile on your lips, as though you were staring at him, teasing him, tempting him. “The answers are all here, Joel,” your picture said. “If you could just make yourself read it, you’d know.” 

He put the book down and got his phone out of his pocket, finding your number in his contacts. 

You answered on the second ring. 

“Oh my God, you’re so demanding,” you sighed in faux exasperation. 

Joel laughed. 

“I know, I’m so fucking needy, don’t know how you stand me.” 

You laughed back. 

“What’s up?” 

“Been thinking,” he began. 

“You?” You said. “Really?” 

“Shut up.”

You giggled. 

“Anyway,” he continued. “Feel free to tell me to kick rocks but… Sounds like neither of our lives have exactly gone the way we’ve wanted them to.” 

“You mean you didn’t plan on being a single dad and I didn’t plan on being divorced at 32?” You gasped. “Color me shocked!” 

“We were always good at holding each other accountable,” he said, ignoring you. “Hell, you’re the only reason I graduated high school…” 

“And you’re the only reason I started at the school paper,” you said. Joel smiled at that, the memory of standing outside the newspaper office while you talked to the teacher so you couldn’t back out. 

“Right,” he said. “Well… what if we did that now?” 

“Now?” He could hear you frowning through the phone. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” he said. “Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together? You make me better, always have…” 

“You, too,” you said quietly but you at least sounded serious now. 

“When are you supposed to have your next book done?” He asked. “Assuming there’s a contract with a deadline for that shit, right?” 

“End of next year,” you sighed. 

“Great,” Joel said. “Alright, let’s give ourselves to the end of next year to set ourselves straight. You finish your book, whatever else you want to get done…” 

“Finalize my divorce,” you said. 

“That’s a good one,” Joel said. “I’ll see about starting my own business…” 

“And having a stable relationship?” You asked. 

“Sounds like a good goal,” he answered, his stomach twisting a bit at that. “What do you say? We come up with a list of shit and go from there? You know we’re better when we’re on a team than when we’re not.” 

You were quiet for a moment. 

“Yeah,” you said eventually. “Yeah, let’s do it.” 

Joel smiled a little, looking down at the box, the cover of your book looking back at him. 

“It’s a deal,” he said. “We’ve got this, Goldie.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Hell yeah we do.”

Next Chapter

A/N: So sorry for the long wait on this! Should be weekly updates from here out for a while, promise <3

Thank you thank you thank you for reading! I'm so excited for what's coming up for these two, I just love how they love each other and yes. I can't wait to explore it all with you.

Thank you for being here! Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #halcyon

[tinygarbage]

Lovers Rock (A Halloween Special)

pairing: Joel Miller x College!f!reader

word count: 4k

summary: Joel's been your best friend since 6th grade. He graduated with you, but when you went to school, he joined his fathers contracting company. When your roommate invites you to a frat party for Halloween, hoping to set you up with her boyfriends friend, you drag Joel along.

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, underage drinking, college parties, Joel is 20, reader is 18 (Joel was held back for kindergarten), frat boys, kissing, reader is a virgin, mutual pining, oblivious reader, not edited 😵‍💫

a/n: ok y’all, I’m not very happy with how this turned out, but I really like the idea I had so yk fuck it and ball. I just needed some mutual pining yk? I’m hoping to make multiple installments of this story but I’m not promising anything! Anyways enjoy even though there only a few hours left of Halloween:)

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

When Nessa proposed she wanted to set you up with her boyfriends frat mate, you didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that she was desperate to help you loose your virginity.

So, after a couple days of convincing, you give in. But not before calling your best friend to drag him along. You call Joel immediately after Nessa tells you about the party. He had been your best friend since 6th grade. You met him in math class and after pestering him for a piece of gum. When he finally gave in, you continued to pester him until you completely weaseled your way into his life. And since then, you had been inseparable.

You and Joel had watched each other go through countless crushes and relationships, but nothing stuck for either of you. Joel was a little more proactive, and had done a lot more than you had ever done. Including losing his virginity. But, you promised each other to keep each other in the loop. So here you are, last minute on the Wednesday before the party, waiting for him to pick up as the phone rings.

    "Jo, hey." You say quickly after he picks up.

    "What's up, Buttercup?" He says, panting slightly.

    "You good?"

   "Yeah, sorry, I'm just at the job sight." He says, trying to catch his breath.

    "Still? It's 7?" You frown, looking at the alarm on your desk.

    "Yeah, Dad's got us cleaning and shit." He sighs, "so what's up?"

    "Oh, yeah. Right." You laugh, "What are your plans Friday night?"

    "Tommy's got a football game, but I can get out of it if you wanted to do something." He answers.

     "There's a party. A Halloween party." You say, flipping a page of your textbook and start writing.

     "Oh, y'know I'm not really into that kinda shit." He says. You can picture the little scowl he unintentionally does.

      "Please? For me?" You whine.

      "Why do you want me to go so bad, college?" He chuckled. You can imagine him standing at the job sight. Breathing heavy in his work pants and neon orange t-shirt. He'd be panting slightly, beads of sweat running down his forehead, curls messy and hands dirty from a tough day at work. His biceps bulging in the t-shirt and his thighs tight against the fabric of his pants.

      "Nessa is trying to set me up with one of the football guys, I need my bodyguard just in case things get rocky." You says, the eraser of your pencil pressing against your lip as you read and talk,

      "Nessa? Your roommate?" He asks. Joel and Nessa don't get along.

      "Please, Jo." You drag out his nickname.

      "I don't wear costumes." He says flatly.

      "What if i buy you one?" You propose.

      "You're not spending money on me." He argues.

     "Wear dark clothes. I'll just get a mask or something." You suggest, "you don't even have to wear it, just hold it."

      He sighs from the other line, "Fine. I'll wear dark clothes. And I'll be at your dorm at 7:30."

      "Really?" You ask, smiling brightly as you look down at your desk with a smitten face.

       "Really, Princess." That's what he called you whenever you got you way. It always made you feel like you had a little butterfly flying around your rib cage.

      "Thank you. I love you." You giggle, going back to writing notes.

       "Love you too, College." He says, you can hear the smirk in his voice. "Well, I gotta go. I'll see you then?"

     "See you then, Jo."

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

The crowd is immediately overwhelming to Joel. As the group approaches the frat house, there a guy throwing up an the sidewalk. He's dressed as Luigi. His mustache lays crumbled at his feet while he groans. Joel automatically thinks of 3,001 excuses to get the hell out of there. But each excuse is thrown away after he thinks about you. What if something happens to you? So he stays. Stuffing part of the werewolf mask you bought into his back pocket. Reluctantly grabbing a beer from the huge cooler once you're inside and cracking it open. He watches as you and Nessa take out your own alcohol and soda can to make a mixed drink.

Earlier that night, he arrived at your dorm to see you all dolled up. A winged liner and a cherry red lipstick being the most notable out of your makeup look. For him at least. You were wearing a white, pirate styled shirt with a worn brown vest. In a material that made Joel cringe slightly. Your skirt was fluffy, and short, exposing your thighs in the cold air. You wore converse, just like he had. You were dressed as Little Red Riding Hood. Shoving a cheap werewolf mask into his hands, thanking him for wearing exactly what you had told him. Which was a navy crewneck and dark denim. He was your big bad wolf.

He sighs, standing beside them, feeling wildly out of place. You had brought him to the same frat before. After a Longhorns game. An invitation reached out by Nessa and her boyfriend who was in the frat. But before then, he was drinking and it was easier to make conversation about football, and not his shitty costume. He swallows his pride and watches you giggle with your bad influence of a roommate. Or so he believed her to be.

You turn to see him staring, throwing a crooked smile in his direction before taking a long sip of your drink. Which had mostly alcohol and a drop of Dr Pepper. "Can you hold my soda, Joel?" You ask, with your usual puppy eyes and fake pout.

He grumbles and grabs it from you, double fisting a Busch lite and your Dr Pepper. While holding your soda and following you around, all Joel could think about were his little brothers words. 'You're the boyfriend with absolutely no benefits.' And Joel couldn't deny it any longer. He helped move you into your dorm, he picks you up when you drink too much with Nessa, he holds you when your shitty boyfriends screw you over, and he holds your drinks at parties so you can flirt with other guys. And he gets nothing but a 'thanks Joel! You're the best!'

    It took him way too long to realize that he's the friend zone king. He sits on its shitty throne next to the guy who says 'Where's my hug?' His stomach churns. His throat burning hot and his head is spinning.

"Nessa said Kayden and Theo are on the lawn." You shout over the music into Joel's ear, the proximity making his heart jump.

"The hell are they doin' out there?" He asks back.

"Keg-stand, fucking idiots." You grumble and Joel laughs, agreeing. Which earns him a glare from Nessa. To which he sticks his tongue out back.

Nessa grabs onto you, leading you out towards the lawn. You immediately grab onto Joel's forearm and drag him with you two. He sighs, downing half of his beer as he walks with you to the lawn. A sea of drunk college students dressed in silly or slutty costumes litter the lawn. Nessa's boyfriend, Theo, is in the middle of a keg stand, and Kayden is cheering from the side with a jug full of alcohol. God, Joel wanted to lose his shit and bang on his chest in pure anger. You were nervous about that fucker?

You look to Joel with an uneasy smile, he doesn't return it. "How do I even communicate with him?" You ask Joel.

"You run away as fast as you can," he gives you an unimpressed look as he says it. He's not joking.

You give him an exaggerated eye roll and shake your head. "You told me you'd be good for advice, Miller."

"That's my best advice, Princess," he says easily, crossing his arms over his chest. His beer can lazily hanging in his fingertips. Which are lightly gripping the top.

You swallow, watching as Kayden chugs an impressive amount of whatever alcohol was mixed in the jug of what used to be Arizona tea. "I guess I should probably introduce myself."

Joel's jaw clenches as he watches you go, wanting to grab you and shake sense into you. What could you possibly see in that guy? What could possibly be romantic about a arizona jug with a unexplained green liquid sloshing around inside it? What could possibly be attractive about the piss-water beer he was spilling all over himself. With one tight squeeze, he crashes the can, wandering away to find a recycle bin.

He heads back inside reluctantly, chewing the inside of his cheek while his mind churns out a million scenarios where you turn out hurt. Or someone else's. A huff escapes his lips as he tosses the can into the recycle bin and immediately heads into the kitchen for another. In the kitchen, there's a group of other Mario characters. Joel clocks them as Luigi's group. He wonders if they know poor Luigi is puking his guts out.

Laughing to himself, he cracks open a second beer and leans against the counter, observing as people come and go from the kitchen. He sips slowly, judging people's costumes, laughter, and their drunken speeches. He wonders how people got drunk so fast, or if him and your group really arrived as late as Nessa made it seem. He sets his beer down next to him, still holding onto your Dr Pepper. His hand covering the open top. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a princess peach approaching. Her dress short, and white knee high boots. Her blonde hair was curled and she had a tiny crown on her head. She looked good.

"You're bleeding." She says, pointing to his empty hand. Looking down, he realized he must've cut himself while crushing his can in his earlier frustration.

He looks back up with a slow blink, "thanks." He grumbles, not really sure what to say, "you know if they keep a first aid kit in this dump?"

Peach laughs with a nod, moving past him and looking under the sink. She grabs out a small, red first aid kit. Joel sets down your Dr Pepper. He moves to the sink, washing off the blood from the small, deep cut. He rips a paper towel from his freehand and dabs the cut. Once he's finished, Peach put a paw patrol bandaid on the left side of his palm, where the cut is.

"All fixed, soldier." She says with a giggle.

"Thanks," he says, inspecting the bandaid made for children, "oh, and if you're missing a Luigi, he's out on the lawn. Buddy seems like he's had a rough night.

Peach let's out a loud giggle, Joel flinches at the sound. "Oh, that's just Damon. He's been drinking since noon."

"Since noon?"

"Yeah, it's normal i promise." She says, her hand falling onto his bicep as she laughs. She squeezes it lightly and his eyes widen slightly.

Joel shifts, not really sure how to handle a unwanted touch from a stranger. Her hand dropped as soon as it came. He let out a huff in relief, shifting his converse against the kitchen tile. "He should probably stop drinkin' so much." He said awkwardly.

      Peach shrugs, "it's college."

       At the tail end of their conversation, you slip into the kitchen. You're red hood is down now, and your solo cup is completely empty. Having been downed after you listens to Kayden tell you about football through a slurred voice. After realizing there was no chance of social resuscitation, you head inside to find Joel. Hopefully getting the hell out of there. You walk through the sliding glass door and through the dining room. When you reach the kitchen you stop in you tracks at the sight of Joel.

       As you stand there, a realization creeps up on you. You've seen this film. You've seen it a thousand times. Every time you've entered a room, you've watched it play. A perfect play through every single time. Joel stands against the kitchen counter with another beer in his hands. He's grumbling something to a girl dressed as Princess Peach. As she laughs at what he said, her delicate hand slaps his bicep, grabbing onto it as she leans forward and lets out a flirtatious giggle. You watch him blink slowly, realizing whatever he said to the girl wasn't a joke. He wasn't trying to be funny.

     Continuing to watch, you stand in the entrance. He stands up from where he was leaning on the counter, no longer relying on it to hold him up. You watch as he slams his second beer, your Dr Pepper still in his right hand. His hand is covering the top. Another few blinks and his whiskey eyes are on you.

     Everything from there feels like a total cliche. He turns away from Princess Peach, eyes still on you. He mutters a farewell. You watch him closely as he stares you down. He's crossing the room, eyes fixated on your form. The white pirate-styled top, and the brown vest. His eyes fall to the short red skirt and the beat up converse on your feet. The noise around you cancels out into merely a whisper, your heartbeat gets faster as you realize what's happening to you. No, what's happened. What's always been there. What is becoming so painfully obvious that you physically can't keep up with the way your brain spins.

    He's there and everyone else is just an obstacle. Blocking you from running to him. You wonder if that's how it's been this whole time. If your own stupidity and oblivious nature has been your obstacle this whole time. If this moment was destined since you had plopped a boat made out of the gum wrapper from the gum he gave you on his desk in 6th grade. You wonder if had he asked you to homecoming instead of Charlie Winkler, would you have already realized it. Would you have already realized that there's absolutely no one in this world that makes you feel the way he does?

     As he gets closer, fire spreads through your body, and suddenly he's grabbing your wrist. He says something, but you're locked into a shock induced state. You completely zone out as his face leans closer. Your eyes take in his thick, furrowed brow and the slight scrunch on his forehead. His lips are downturned and you suddenly realize how long it's been since he's shaved. His stubble much longer than he had ever kept it before.

      "Hey, you good?" His smooth drawl snaps you back into reality, he's waving a large hand in front of your face, "Earth to College."

      You blink a few times, "Joel. Hi." You choke out awkwardly, staring at him.

     "You good? Where's Kyle?"

     "Kayden." You correct, throwing out your solo cup. Then grabbing the Dr Pepper from his hands and throwing that out too.

     "Same thing," he shrugs, "Where is he?"

     "I wasn't into him." You say quickly, "Wanna get some air? I'm feeling a little overwhelmed."

    He immediately looks concerned, his hand landing on the small of your back, "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

    You nod quickly, "I'm fine, i promise. C'mon, let's go upstairs."

     You grab his hand and lead him out to the living room and up the stairs of the frat. He follows behind, holding onto your hand tightly. He looks behind and around himself, not really knowing what to expect. Or what people would think about people heading into the bedroom of a frat member without said frat member being present.

    You reach a door with Theo's name on it. Carefully, you peak your head in. Once you know it's clear of horny and drunk college students, you open the door fully. Joel steps through, looking around at the slightly messy room.

    "You're sure we can be up here?" Joel says, awkwardly shifting his weight as you plop down on Theo's bed.

     "He said I could use it if i needed too." You smile, playing with the hem of your skirt.

    He just nods, converse dragging slightly on the rug under his feet and towards the bed. As he sits down slowly, you listen to the muffled music from the yard. A shitty, yet classic, Pitbull song plays and you hear drunken screams. You ignore it, not wanting to focus on anything else but the overbearing scent of Joel's teakwood cologne. The one you got him for his 20th birthday. How was he so perfect?

   "So, that kid didn't catch your interest?" Joel asks, his sweaty hands rubbing on the denim covering his thighs.

     "He smelled like wet pennies," you laugh, nudging his shoulder lightly.

    He laughs with you. It's thunderous sound, one you've always been incredibly fond of. You giggle slightly, a lovesick haze clouding your brain as he looks over to you. For a moment, it's quiet between you both. A complete contrast to the chaos outside. Both of your breathing the only sound left in the room. His eyes flicking from your eyes to your cherry red lips. He snaps out of his daze, looking forwards, "I think if someone told me I smelled like pennies, I'd cry." He says teasingly, nudging your knee.

    "You don't smell like pennies." You lean closer.

    "Promise?"

    "Promise." You nod, giggling as you lean your head on his shoulder.

      His arm wraps around you, rubbing your shoulder over your smooth red cape. The hood tangled in the back from ripping it off your head after Kayden accidentally spilled his unidentified alcohol beverage on it earlier. You nuzzle your head on his muscular shoulder, inhaling his strong scent. His navy crewneck is soft against your cheek as you look down at the dark denim on his strong thighs.

      You both sit in silence for a few moment, the tension in the air getting thicker as the seconds tick by. Eventually, you get restless. Your voice cuts through the quiet room as you lift your head up slightly to look up at him. "You want to stay with me in the dorms tonight?" You ask softly.

    "I would love that." he says softly, leaning forward and placing his forehead on yours. His hand reaches to grab your wrist as it sits on your lap. He rubs your wrist slowly, running across a prominent vein that meets your palm.

   Suddenly, his free hand wraps around the back of your head, gently and quickly pulling you in. Before you can process whats happening, his lips press against yours. You melt into the kiss without another thought. His hand slides down and holds your face, his other hand dropping your wrist and reaching up behind your head. His long fingers running through your hair as you kiss. Your hands lay on his chest, squeezing him slightly when he pressed deeper. The kiss turns to into a heavy make out as he starts getting a bit carried away at the taste of your cherry lipstick. The kiss gets sloppy, making you squeeze your thighs together from the sudden burn between your legs. He breaks the kiss, breathing heavy, his hands on your hips. He's looking down at you with rosy cheeks. "Was that okay?" His voice was soft.

     You pant softly, your lips swollen from his passionate kiss. "Mhm," you nod.

    He quickly steals another kiss from you, shifting to face you. You go right back to making out again. He has a tight hold on your waist with one hand. His left hand traveling up to your back. You hold yourself up on the bed with your hand spread behind you. Your arm is thrown over his shoulder and around the back of his neck. His tongue pushes against yours, pulling you in for a kiss. It lasts for a few seconds that seem to be last a lifetime. His hand grips tighter at your waist, breathing heavily after he eventually broke the kiss. "I want you.." He whispers. His eyes are heavy and he's gazing at you in a way you didn't believe was possible.

    "I'm yours." You whisper without another thought, smiling.

    He pulls himself even closer, slowly and gently lying you down before leaning on top of you. He places his hand flat on your spine, whilst his other hand goes to your thigh. He kisses your neck and collarbone, the taste of your skin driving him crazy. For a moment, he loses himself in the taste, before he begins to wonder if you're feeling alright. He pauses again, letting himself catch breath before checking on you. "Are you comfortable? Do you want to continue this?"

    You nod, your fingers playing with the curls on the back of his neck. His hand is on your thigh, rubbing it lightly. "Yeah, I'm comfortable." You nod softly.

     He beams, a slight huff of excited laughter hitting your face. "You'll let me know if it's too much?" He asks softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

     "Mhm." You hum, pushing his head down to continue the kiss. He happily accepts the invitation, squeezing your thigh gently as his other arm is still wrapping under you as you lay on Theo's bed.

You both make out for a few more minutes. The touches become more and more heated with each second. Your nails dig into his shoulders as his hand travels up your thigh to rest on your hip underneath your skirt. A small moan rumbles against his lips as your back arched slightly against the mattress. His finger loops under the band of underwear on your hip.

As he begins to tug slightly, the door flys open and you and Joel rip apart from each other. Joel hops off the bed, scratching the back of his neck as his other hand travels to his front pocket. A poor attempt to hide the bulge in his jeans. You sit up on the bed, fixing your skirt and hair as you both look at the door.

Theo and Nessa stand at the door, their jaws dropped open at the sight in front of them. “No way,” A drunken Nessa giggled, covering her mouth.

“Nessa! Hi!” You squeak, getting up from the bed as the two drunken vampires giggle.

Joel’s face is beet red as his hands are stuck into his front pockets. You look over to see red lipstick smudged on his lips, some even in his stubble. You got hit with embarrassment, using your thumb to wipe around your lips to wipe off any smudged lipstick. “We were just getting some air.”

“More like sharing some air,” Theo laughs.

“Go back to the dorms,” Nessa smirks. “I’ll be here tonight.”

Instead of arguing you nod, grabbing onto Joel’s arm and leading him out of the room. The door closes behind you and you both look at each other in awe and embarrassment.

“Dude.” You breath out, a slow smile creeping onto your lips.

“That…” he tries to find words in his flustered state, “that was awkward.”

You both laugh, leaning into each other in a post make out haze. He tugs you into his arms for a moment, pulling you close as he rubs your back slowly. He presses a firm kiss to the crown of your head before pulling apart again.

“Should we head to your dorm?” He asks softly, biting the inside of his lip.

You smirk, grabbing his wrist. “C’mon, cowboy.”

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

moot tags: @annasinterests @ilovepedro @mandoisapunk @party-hearses @nostalxgic @bastardmandennis

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #contractor!joel miller #college!reader #childhood best friends to lovers #joel miller x f!reader

[pearwaldorf]

I have been trying to write this on and off for a while. I figure the second anniversary of the show is as fine an occasion as any to shove it out into the world. It is not everything I want to say about it, but I think the important bits are there.

It is a human impulse to be seen. To be told, through art, you are not alone. It is universal, but of special importance to people who are not well-represented in media (i.e. everybody who isn’t cis, white, able-bodied, skinny, and conventionally attractive).   

This show speaks to me as a queer person who figured things out later than most of my peers. (Not quite as late as Ed and Stede but not terribly far off either.) It’s not super common to see queer media address this, and I didn’t realize how much I needed that reassurance until I got it. That it’s okay to find these things any time in your life. To be told “A queer is never late, they’re always fashionably on-time.” 

They’re not my first canon queer ship. But they are the first ones where I knew it was true from the get-go. Multiple people assured me this was the case. And yet, I still didn’t believe it until I saw it with my own two eyes. This experience is not unusual for fans around my age.  

After I finished up season one, I laid in bed and cried. It’s not something I thought would affect me so much, but it feels like a weight I’d carried so long I didn’t realize it wasn’t supposed to be part of me is gone.

One of the reasons people unfamiliar with the fandom seem to think it’s absolutely crazy (which some of it is, to be fair, but every fandom has that) is the way fans of the show get extremely super intense about it. It took me a few weeks to realize this is a trauma response. I’m not even sure “trauma” is the right word. It doesn’t interfere with my day to day function, but it lasted for years. Decades. So it was definitely something that fucked me up. And in the way you can only start to see something as you’re moving past it, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to get my head around this. (I don’t know if I have anything to say about it yet. Maybe I need more time to sit with it.)

I know this sounds contrary, but I’m really glad David Jenkins does not come from fandom. Sometimes it’s good to know where a line is, and others it’s better to not know there’s a line at all. And this is, sad to say, remarkable to somebody who has had to deal with this for so long. With so many writers and showrunners aware of the line, and getting right up next to it, but never crossing it.

Imagine doing a show with a queer romance and not understanding why this was received with such emotion and fervor, because it’s just two people in love right? What blissful ignorance that this needed to be explained to him! And then he listened to people’s experiences with queerbaiting, and went “Oh my god you thought I was going to do WHAT?” And then you go “Huh. That is really fucked up.” 

The problem with being told something enough, even though you know it’s wrong, is you start to believe it regardless. All the excuses and hedging. It’s so very difficult to do they tell us, when we hear from queer creators how they had fight tooth and nail to make it as gay as it already was. 

And then comes Jenks, just yeeting it out there: majority queer and (not and/or. and) POC cast, an openly non-binary person playing an openly non-binary character. The ability to not have to make one queer (and/or) POC character speak for everybody, so you can inject a tiny bit of nuance into the conversation. The way you can tell more kinds of stories, like the one where the smol angry internalized homophobe comes into his own with the support of a queer community, even though he was a giant fucking asshole to them before.

So many people were like “You can just DO that? It’s really that easy?” And wasn’t that a fucking Situation, to have that curtain pulled aside. What next? Majority POC casts with stories about POC written by POC? Absolute madness. (Please please watch The Brothers Sun on Netflix. It’s so fucking good.) 

And people will scoff and say “Of course a cishet(?) white man would be able to get this pushed through.” But do they usually? The thing I don’t think people understand about allies is they use their privilege to wedge the door open. You still have to do the work to get through, but at least you have a place to start. And it really fucking matters.

The press keeps trying to tell me The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin is the OFMD substitute we need while we float in the gravy basket. I’m sure it’s a perfectly fine show, but I don’t know who has watched OFMD and decided the itch we needed scratched was anachronistic historical comedy.

I want stories written by people that reflect their lived experiences, with actors and crew committed to bringing that to life. And I would like streamers and studios to commit to giving them a chance, and marketing them properly so people know they exist. 

You can keep people satisficed with scraps for only so long. At some point, somebody is going to give them a whole seven course dinner and people will wonder why they’ve been putting up with starving this entire time.

#our flag means death #ofmd #our flag turns 2 #pear watches ofmd #pear text

[louisupdates]

By Marcelo Fernández Bitar [translated from Spanish]

In just over 24 hours, Louis Tomlinson passed through Buenos Aires and caused a commotion, with hundreds of fans crowding at the door of his hotel singing and shouting his name, and also occupying almost the entire block where there is a FM radio station where he went to give an interview.

The fanaticism generated with his solo career by the former singer of One Direction in Argentina is so great that in fact he will give a recital in the same stadium where he was in 2014 with the mega-boy band. It will be on May 18 in Vélez Sarsfield.

Louis Tomlinson already has two solo albums and is touring the world presenting the most recent, Faith in the Future. It came out in November 2022 and surprised with his most rocky sound, close to the Brit-pop of his beloved Oasis, and less pop. It was number one in England and three singles came out, Bigger Than Me, Out of My System and Silver Tongues.

Hurricane Louis

The visit was really fleeting with the purpose of promoting his show next month, the old-fashioned way, when the artists toured the countries to advertise albums or tours, something they currently do on Zoom or with posts on their official accounts.

Louis arrived on Friday night and spent Saturday fulfilling an intense schedule of activities, to leave early the next day.

First he went to the Vélez football field for a television interview which will be televised later by TN, and then he went to the radio station Los 40 Principales, where his fans filled the entire Gorriti street, between Ravignani and Arévalo, to witness an interview where eight listeners joined to ask him a question each.

He finally arrived at 4 p.m. at the Four Seasons hotel, where hundreds of other fans were screaming for him. There he gave a series of reports and chatted with Clarín in a room equipped as a small television set, with lights and a set with his name and the cover of the disc.

"Never, not for a second, did I think I would be going through some of the same experiences," he said, "that I was lucky enough to live in the band. I thought that was something unique. So being able to come here and feel the level of love and the incredible reaction on today's radio station, means a lot to me. When I imagined what my solo career would be like, I really didn't know what to expect.

Re-filling stadiums

At 32-years-old, Louis Tomlinson has the experience of having been part of one of the greatest pop phenomena of the last 20 years, with sales records and sold-out shows in stadiums around the world. And now he is repeating the fury alone, just as it happened just a little earlier with his ex-bandmate Harry Styles.

In Louis’ case, he first sold out the closed Movistar Arena stadium in 2022 and now he goes through a huge soccer field like Vélez.

Q: Did you think that being a soloist you had to start from below and sing in smaller places?

Louis: Yes, exactly. But it turns out that I can still play in big places, so it's great.

Q: Can we really talk about a mania of a "louistomlinson-mania"? Does it happen everywhere or is it special in Latin America?

Louis: I think that in terms of the level of similar intensity, and seeing what happened a moment ago on the radio station, that certainly doesn't happen to me everywhere. Let me put it this way: it's incredible to be so far from home and feel that level of love. I'm very excited to think about what the show will be like here.

Q: It's incredible that almost exactly ten years have passed since the last time you filled Vélez. How do you feel when you return to the same stadium?

Louis: I feel very lucky to be able to play in those places again on my own. I also feel very, very proud of myself and my fans. I feel like we have created something that is quite special and we did it together. With them as listeners, but also as facilitators. That really helped my confidence and made me feel good on stage. It's a lovely relationship and I'm very proud of it.

Q: This tour started almost a year ago, how did it evolve with respect to the first shows?

Louis: I definitely feel in a good place right now with the show. Anyway, in advance I was excited about this tour because this album was designed for the live show. So I was excited to see how the songs would work. And the energy is great. I am very excited to show Faith in the Future to Latin America.

Q: How did the idea of making a live cover of Arctic Monkeys come about?

Louis: Arctic Monkeys grew up about 20 minutes from where I live. It was something very close, very fresh in the mind and obviously huge. I was growing up and I'm also a big fan. I usually do the song 505 because it's very pretty.

Often, with the versions, I probably think more about what I would like to sing than about what I imagine that everyone else would like to hear, which may be misjudged, but I'm enjoying it.

Q: When you were a teenager you sang Oasis songs and now you have a rock band that sounds very Brit-pop, almost closing a circle.

Louis: Thank you. I am very, very fortunate to have the band I have, but they also perform sonically and visually, everything that is really important to me. They sound absolutely incredible. I don't think I would be able to do this without my band.

Q: Live you also perform songs from One Direction. Did you feel that kind of shadow at the beginning of your solo career and now you are more comfortable looking back?

Louis: I think a bit about both things. I think that at the beginning of my career I would have been a little more worried about putting too many One Direction songs in the repertoire. What I wanted most was to spread my wings and show who I was. But I think that as time went by, the nostalgic moments are really charming. So it's like a beautiful mixture of nostalgia and it's very nice to do it.

Ping-pong

Q: This is the third time you have visited our country. If you had to describe your Argentine fans in three words, which one would you choose?

Louis: Passionate. Loyal. Affectionate. That’s okay, isn't it?

Q: The soccer player Kun Agüero said that there is a lot of talk to you through Instagram or Twitter. Have you ever met him in person?

Louis: Actually, we have never seen each other in person. Over the years we've talked a little here and there, but I never found time. I have a kind of crazy hope that he can come to the show.

Q: If you had to choose one of your songs, either from Walls or Faith in the Future, that reflects how you feel right now in your life, what would it be?

Louis: I would say that the name of the album (Faith in the future) represents where I am right now, but I think that in the future I would like to always be optimistic.

Q: And if all the One Direction discography was deleted and a song had to be saved. Which one would you save?

Louis: It's interesting... I would probably say Story Of My Life. That seemed like a real milestone. I would say it's a little more serious. And I also think it's a bit of a crazy song.

Q: You are a big soccer fan, do you have any preference for an Argentine club?

Louis: I'm very afraid to say something wrong... I'd better say that I love you all. (laughs)

Photos

Links

#louis press #louis tomlinson #fitfwt24: buenos aires #6.4.2024 #clarin

[cameronspecial]

Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 4)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Substance and Alcohol Use, Talk about Addiction, Swearing and Toxic Relationship Signs.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: Y/N takes the first steps to move on and she finds Rafe in a compromising position.

Masterlist

The Outer Banks isn’t famous for their food selection, so Y/N decides to take Cole to The Wreck. “This place doesn’t look like much, but a family friend owns the place so it’s good,” she promises to Cole, walking through the door he holds open for her. He nods and places his hand on the small of her back, “It’s okay. I like the mom-and-pop vibe of the place. It’s cute.” Kiara spots Y/N easily and squeals. “Y/N, I heard you are back! I’m a little offended that you didn’t come sooner,” Kie tackles her in a hug then spots Cole. “Oh, he’s cute. I approve. I’ll give you the back seat near the window. It’s the most romantic one.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. Y/N laughs at the girl’s comments. The couple is led toward the table and he lets her sit on the booth side facing the front door. “The hostess here is very friendly. I like her,” he jokes as he settles into his seat. Y/N roars with laughter, “Yeah, that’s Kiara. We’re friends. She can get a little excitable.’ Cole chuckles with her. “So what should I eat?”

Y/N smiles at him and points on the menu to her favourite meal. “I love the po’ boys. I normally go for the oyster one, but the shrimp one is good too. Fun fact, these were only supposed to be a special item for the summer menu, but I begged Kiara’s parents, who own this place, to keep it on the menu and I guess I am a very good negotiator.” Cole looks over the choices and nods, “Ohh, that does sound like it would taste good. And you are a very good negotiator, I heard the story about how you negotiated with the people at one of your Canadian venues to have a poutine bar at the signing.”

“Wow, you heard about that? I did do that because who wouldn’t want a poutine bar at their first Canadian signing? The poutine was good in case you were wondering. One of the best decisions I made on the tour. Right after giving out free devil horns and angel wings at each venue. It was so fun seeing everyone wearing them in person and on social media. So how’s work going?” 

“I’m slowly making my way to the top. I would do even better if I could get a certain OBX native to sign on with us.”

“Oh, so that’s the real reason why you wanted this date. I see how it is.”

“I’m joking. I’m joking. You know that. It really is going well, though. The fact that they trusted me to scope out this place is a good sign.”

“So if they do open up an office here, would you be the one to come here?”

“Uh, yeah. I would probably be the one to do that. Have you ever thought about moving back home?”

“Uh, I love this place, but I don’t think my forever home is here. My whole life I’ve dreamed of living in London. Ever since I went to London with my mom when I was younger to check on the publishing of one of her books. It was absolutely magical and plus, I’m already setting up shop there a little more permanently with my bookstore.”

“Right, I heard about your bookstore. I hope I’m going to be on the guest list for the grand opening.”

“Of course, you’ll be first on my list. I promise.”

The rest of the date is spent joking and talking about various things. She honestly had such a good time with him that she forgot that their first date so many years ago was not a great start. It made her forget that she once couldn’t get the idea of Rafe outside of her head. Maybe it really is time for her to move on. 

——

Why she keeps letting Mason drag her to different places is beyond her. She doesn’t want to be at Kelce’s party right now. She hasn’t had a chance to see him yet since she came back but this is not how she imagines their reunion. “Y/N, I was beginning to think you didn’t want to see me,” Kelce yells over the music, giving her a big hug. Y/N returns the hug, “It’s good to see you too, Kelce. Nice party.” “You don’t really mean that, but it means a lot that you are here. Even if I know Mace brought you here.” Y/N shakes her head and lets Kelce get back to greeting other people. She moves towards the kitchen to get some snacks and something to sip on. Mason ran off to talk to friends, so she makes small talk with people she knew, who passed through the kitchen. 

With all the sipping she does, nature starts to eventually call and she makes her way to the upstairs bathroom in Kelce’s room. She knows only his closest friends would dare to go up there. She enters the closed bathroom without knocking because she wasn’t expecting anyone to be in the bathroom. However, she is surprised to see Rafe in there already. She is outraged at the activities she finds him doing up here all by himself. Rafe is leaning over the counter with his nose dangerously close to a white powder substance. He quickly bolts upright and uses the back of his hand to wipe the powder residue around his nose. “What the fuck are you doing?” she yells with anger. The last time she had seen him, he had given up weed because he knew how she felt about drugs. She couldn’t believe he escalated to something stronger.

When she found out about Mason smoking weed, she wasn’t thrilled, but she did research to find out that there was a low risk of drying from a weed overdose. It gave her some peace of mind, but she made both Mason and Rafe, once she found out he picked up the habit too, promise her that they wouldn’t try anything else. They agreed because they knew how terrified she was of losing some after she went to a funeral for one of her mother’s friends, who had died of an overdose. Even though they broke up, she could not believe that Rafe would go against the promise he made fifteen-year-old her. “This is none of your business, Y/L/N,” he spits out, moving in front of the counter, subconsciously, to hide the drugs from her. 

“Rafe, you broke your promise. You and Mason both promised me that you wouldn’t do anything other than weed.”

“Don’t worry, Mace isn’t doing this shit too. He doesn’t know that I’m doing it either. I just needed something to make me forget.” 

“Right now, he is the last thing I’m worried about. What could you possibly need to forget about so much?” Her anger turns to concern as she can see the pain hidden in his eyes. She may not like that he is now doing the drug, but she is slowly piecing the puzzle together. The steps she takes forward are small, as though she is approaching a fawn, because she fears he is going to run from her. He lets her place her hand onto his bicep as he looks at her with blown pupils. “Like you need to ask that question,” he grumbles, moving out of her reach. “No, I guess you don’t. But you aren’t allowed to come back after all these years and pretend like you care.”

“Rafe, I’m not pretending. I really am concerned about you.”

“Don’t lie to me. You don’t care about my feelings. Because if you did, you never would’ve come back. You never would’ve stopped talking to me. And you never would’ve broken up with me.”

She begins to feel frustrated and attacked in this conversation, which causes tears to fall down her cheek. “Really? I broke up with you because I care about you. I sacrificed my future with you because I cared for YOU!” 

Rafe shakes his head and lets out a low chuckle. “No, you sacrificed our love so you can stop feeling guilty.” He doesn’t say another word as he pushes off the counter he was leaning on and storms out of the room. Y/N sits on the toilet and lets her tears stream down her face. 

—— 

She couldn’t stay at the party any longer, so she called Cole and asked him if he could pick her up. He was there about thirty minutes later in a rental car. She gets in without a hitch and he immediately notices her sadness. “Are you okay?” Y/N gives him a tight-lipped smile, “Can we go somewhere else first, please?” Cole nods and starts the car. He takes her to a McDonald’s parking lot. She feels a pain in her chest at the memory of the last time she went to an OBX McDonald’s with a boy. “Thought you might be hungry, so how about I get us something to eat and then you can pour your heart out to me after?” he promises, getting out of the car and into the establishment.

A few minutes later, he jogs out of the restaurant with a bag and tray in his hand. He puts the paper bag on the dashboard and hands over a McFlurry first. She gives him a questioning look, “Dessert first?” “As I like to say, it all ends up in the same place, so why does it matter what you eat first,” he says with a massive grin on his face. Y/N giggles and digs into the frozen treat. She eats some more of her ice cream before talking, “Rafe is doing cocaine.”

“Rafe… as in your ex, that Rafe?”

“Yeah, I saw him doing it at the party and we got into an argument. He knows how I feel about drugs. I can’t believe he would turn towards it.” 

“I can. I mean, I don’t condone it but I can understand why. When I was doing my A-levels, my brother died and I turned to alcohol. I know the pull he feels towards anything that could make him forget,” he begins to explain. “It isn’t healthy how we choose to forget about our problems, but I know how much he must have been hurting to decide to use the drug. You have to understand that he isn’t doing it to hurt you though, he’s doing it because a part of him is hurting.”

She can see the vulnerability in Cole’s eyes and reaches over the centre console to give him a hug, “Thank you. It made me feel better, but I just can’t help but feel guilty about being the one to cause him the pain.”

“I know, but I also know that you didn’t mean to hurt him. Whatever reason you have for breaking up with him, you thought you were doing the right thing. And this may come off as a little selfish, but if you didn’t break up with him, then we wouldn’t be in this car right now. So I am very grateful for that,” he whispers, bringing his face closer to her. She smiles at him and closes the gap between them. 

——

Rafe had made the poor choice of driving while he was high; all he was focused on was getting back home and away from her sad expression. His family was away for the weekend, so it was only Blythe waiting for him to get back. He enters the house with a loud bang coming from the front door. He stays at the front entrance and paces around the room. His hands run through his hair, tugging at the end of the strands. Blythe comes down the stairs wearing just his t-shirt, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?” she asks, walking over to him. He turns at her with angry eyes, “Everything is fine, Blythe.” She places her hand on his bicep and rubs it soothingly. “Really? You don’t seem to be.” 

Rafe harshly yanks his arm out of her touch, “I said that I’m fine, Blythe. Geez, why do you have to be so nosy all the time?” His words hold so much venom that she doesn’t miss it. She goes up the stairs and turns back towards him halfway up. “I can see you are hurting right now, but it is no excuse for you to take it out on me. Come find me when you are done being so angry.” With that, she continues back upstairs to their bedroom. Rafe lets out a scream and punches the door near the archway that leads to the family room. He stares at the hole his fist left and makes another one beside it. 

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