#bittersweet ending incoming

[buttertheflame]

Rick, Pearl, and Donald: CRM’s Alliance of Three

1x01 Analysis of Donald Okafor

Secrecy is the main theme for the CRM. Major General Beale is its commander. Lieutenant Colonel Okafor is its prime visionary. We see it in his confession of bombing LA, Atlanta and a stadium in Philly. We see it in his quest to recruit Rick Grimes and Pearl Thorne, and in his quest to 'quietly' dissolve the military's As and Bs system of culling and control. Although Beale and Okafor disagree on something major, they signed off on the construction of Omaha and Portland, secretly destroyed the former and passed it off as an accident. Why would they do this? The CRM seems set to rule the Civic Republic forever, but that's not the case. This secret is the most important one, a card I think Okafor was holding onto until the best time to reveal it it to Rick. The purpose is not to implement a liberation of the people, but to implement a soft coup so the Civic Republic would not learn about the monstrous people they're ruled by or be able to do anything about it.

It begins with the main walking dead theme and its sudden flip. It begins with secrets and Okafor's vision: “Monsters that kill the monsters—that’ll be over soon.”

To start, let's remember our hero Rick Grimes. In The Ones Who Live, personal freedom is one of his themes. When Rick refused to back down, this is what Okafor did:

a) The CRM already revoked his freedom of movement, his freedom of association and they continued to pressure him into joining the military even after he took his own hand in his attempt to escape. b) The writers even had Rick acknowledge that, “People here can’t leave. They aren’t free.” c) When Rick said, “If I’m an A and I think for myself…” Okafor shrugged it off. d) When Rick held him at knife point, Okafor pulled out the ace card and threatened his wife and child to prevent him from leaving, once and for all.

Donald Okafor is a villain. He does not care about what Rick Grimes wants and what he believes. He cares that the man has inherent power, that he is a juggernaut. This is Palpatine seducing Anakin Skywalker to the dark side to get ultimate power. And like Anakin, Rick has to metaphorically die to 'survive' this fraught partnership. Pearl accepted it, and eventually Rick understood it.

Thankfully, our other hero Michonne interrupted Okafor's moment in the sun. But Rick still has to know what he wanted, because he and Pearl are poised to inherit his plan and will disagree on what to do with it.

So what does Okafor want? He wants the CRM to keep its sovereign power over the Civic Republic. World Beyond viewers know a timed shift of power was included the CRM's founding. This is their Death Star’s fatal flaw. But the CRM is not the kind of group to accept being scrutinized, interfered with, and audited. They are not the kind of group to accept the possibility of being dissolved due to the atrocities they committed. They are the kind of group to manufacture their value and necessity to the Civic Republic’s government through degrees of obfuscation. Any and all other threats to their absolute power (see Michonne's group) would also be vanquished. That's their average Monday.

This leaves us with two versions of one final question.

What if Okafor had survived? (Secrets, secrets, secrets.)

1) If Okafor had lived to execute his soft coup within the military, once Rick and Pearl were in place, he would “tell them one more secret” and reveal the Civic Republic’s threat via the oncoming oversight. He would explain that the CRM was founded as an emergency protocol. He would ask Rick and Pearl, what happens if the emergency continues? There would be no more As or Bs within the military. They would not need to do this to prevent the Civic Republic from learning what kind of monstrous people are out there in the waste. They would no longer need to hide the fact that the Civic Republic is being ruled by them. These layers of secrets would make it near impossible for Rick to approach the general population and Pearl's already drunk the koolaid; Okafor would strongarm Rick into fighting for this evil cause, and Rick would run the risk of dying to avoid engaging in it.

Since Okafor hasn't survived, what then? (Secrets, secrets, secrets.)

2) Since Michonne did interrupt Okafor’s moment in the sun, in the fallout, Rick has an even more compelling decision to make. He will want to run away with Michonne. He’ll try to get home. With Rick’s escape, obviously Jadis will try to save her own skin. And Beale will bring down the hammer. But I think Rick will find out about the secret threat to the CRM. I think he will see he almost got roped into a hard coup masquerading as a soft coup, and that he would have committed atrocities like the others the CRM had done before, or he’d have rather died. It’s kind of amazing. After choosing to live by dying metaphorically inside, he will realize how much worse CRM was all along. That and Michonne’s encouragement will be enough to convince Rick Grimes to be the leader of a liberation, whereas before Okafor’s death there would have been literally no one available to take on such a daunting task.

To finish with more poetry: Donald Okafor help set up Omaha and Portland, but between him, Rick and Pearl, he's the first to die. That would make him a foil, or opposition, to that community’s role in the story. I'd bet that Pearl is a foil to Portland and Rick is a foil to the Hidden City, hopefully indicating his survival. I’d like to see that, anyway.

There are only 6 episodes so let's see how far they get. I think this is a compelling run down of what's possible. One villain set it up, but he's dead now. The others will take us other places. We'll see.

#tv shows #twd #the ones who live #rick grimes #michonne #donald okafor #pearl thorne #* #even if i'm wrong this was fun to write up #there's more thoughts to come on pearl and rick from 1x01 #enjoy my brainrot #*looks into the future* #okafor wanted a soft coup but beale wants a hard coup #rick wants to go home but he's gonna get roped into a war anyway #michonne will want to stay fight and change things because she's sweet like that #bittersweet ending incoming

[jonsnoodlearms]

why are you feeling mixed about the magnus protocol thing?

hi there! mostly because tma was super special to me (still is!) and I'm worried that I'm gonna be disappointed by new content but it's just a personal thing and maybe I'll be proven wrong!

what's your opinion?

#the ending of tma was ambiguous and bittersweet in that way #but to me it felt complete #it was up to you as a listener how to interpret their (jon and martin's) ending #and I loved that about it #and I'm scared that they're gonna ruin that for me #part of me (an evil part) also feels like it's a cash grab...cause tma was so successful #(I mean they're artists and they need their income so I'd totally understand if they'd do it as a cash grab but STILL) #so yeah #also I just opened tumblr so I'm curious to see what other ppl think about it!!

[miharuhebinata]

NEVER TRUST TV TROPES BTW TV TROPES IS A LYING FUCK.

#the page for echo claimed that the best you could hope for for any of the endings would be bittersweet at best #but like i just finished carl's route (the good ending at least) and yeah sure [!!! SPOILERS INCOMING !!!] he & chase don't end up together #but my god they might as well have fucked sloppy style & gotten married for how much happier it was compared to tj's ending LMAOOOO #LIKE????? IFYKYK LOL #also only semi-related but after finishing tj's route i looked it up to see if there was a general agreed-upon recommendation for which #order to play all the routes in and only then discovered that most people think you should play tj second to last (followed by flynn) #which at the time i thought would kinda ruin the experience of playing through the rest of the game since tj's route #has some pretty major spoilers for the game as a whole. but luckily (& idk if maybe this is just because i liked carl so much) #it didn't make me any less interested in what was happening. in fact i think it helped put some things into perspective overall #even though they weren't very relevant at all this time around. #but well. anyway. suffice to say this was a much needed palette cleanser after tj's route 😭 #the only thing i can't decide is whether i should go for the bad endings for carl's route before moving on or not. i probably should... #..but i don't want to LOL. at least not yet #echo tag #echo spoilers #🎮 tag #send tweet

[auteurdelabre]

Something to Fight For (SERIES) Part 20

Something to Fight For Chapter 20 Word Count: 11.6k Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions) Tommy x Maria, Bill x Frank Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT. Loves of cheese. Extra cheese with a side of cheese. Love and more love. Happy ending. All the happy shit.

masterlist here

a/n: Ya'll this feels so strange. Even though the epilogue is on its way sometime soon, writing this chapter felt very final. Its a bittersweet feeling. After this story I won't have all of us together again. It's been a journey for us all, hasn't it? You've felt like real friends, caring for this story I invented. Sorta surreal, huh? And I TOLD YA'LL THE ANGST LED TO A HAPPY ENDING. I really hope that if you've never left a review, you decide to do so on this chapter. I also hope if you have left reviews before, you do so now. Detailed ones, ones where you tell me your favorite part cuz It was so beautiful to write, but it was also hard. I feel like I'm sayin' goodbye to a part of me. Also, SMUT WARNING. Sorry, I am not a smut writing professional. It's just sorta the icing there on Bill's cupcake. It doesn't come naturally to me, but these two deserved i t don't you think? I love ya'll. See you in the epilogue.

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Joel is finishing up watering the front lawn when he hears a car coasting down his street. He doesn't pay it any mind, turning off the spigot and heading towards his front door. 

He's thinking about you. How warm you felt curled against him this morning. How your puffy eyes and gentle smile makes his heart sing even now. He wipes his damp hands on the back of his jeans. 

You must be breaking things off with Paul, right? Joel saw the ring box. He saw your bare finger. 

And your eyes, your eyes said so much. Even as he was leaving he saw the dueling emotions there. The quiet anxiety from your mom's incoming call mingling with the open desire to have Joel stay. He felt it coming off of you in waves. 

He would have. He would do anything you wanted. 

He'd help you build that sanctuary with his own bare hands. He'd move you box by box into his home tomorrow if you gave the word. He'd hold you every night and make love to you every morning if that's what you said you needed.

He'd even figure out how to travel back and forth from home to Chicago and Austin for the next six months without it disrupting Sarah's life too much, if it's not a permanent move on your end. A combination of odd weekend visits and daily phone calls seems manageable. He'd even learn how to text properly. He doesn't want you back in Chicago, but he'd do it. He will continue to fight for you.

He needs to tell you this, he decides. He needs to spell it out. The word love was sputtered last night, without thought. But he needs to say it with clear eyes and your body against his. He needs you to know exactly what he's offering. He'll call to see if you’re free before the wedding to talk.

This can't wait. 

He pulls the front door open, his hand reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. He hopes you answer. 

"Joel!"

He spins in the door frame, his eyes widening. It's you. You're here, pulling yourself from the driver’s side of a car he doesn't recognize.

You're wearing some green dress that has far too many bows but Joel doesn't give a shit, all he can think is it's you it’s you and your here for him. You have a blazing look in your eyes, sharp and focused all on him as you march to his front door.

He feels a pull at his abdomen, a delicious sensation because there's no indecision in you anymore. It's there written in your face: you want Joel. You're here for him, to claim him. 

Because he's wanted. 

Joel feels a smile break over his face, his teeth a slab of white against the tan of his face that has you laughing and sobbing in equal measure. He steps away from the door because you're running to him the rest of the way, your face breaking into a smile as you launch yourself into Joel's arms. 

"Honey-"

He doesn't get another word out because you've launched yourself into his chest, circling your arms around his neck. He grunts as your body collides with his and grips you in surprise. He holds fast to you against him, staring down at your tear-streaked face.  

And then you're gripping his face, pulling it to meet yours. Kissing him with a ferocity that he's not expecting but is oh so responsive to. There on his doorstep you kiss him, your mouth hot and needy as Joel kisses you back, pulling you against him before panting as brings you inside the house, almost carrying you over the threshold. 

You're frantic, needing to touch and kiss and make up for lost time. To show him through your passion just how much you've missed him, how much he means to you. He's still got you in his strong arms, his hands skating down your back. Your hands are coming to his collar, desperate for him to press you against the wall as he did not so long ago at your place. 

Whoa slow down.

You need to talk. To get things right. You break apart from Joel slowly, your mouth reddened. Joel smiles so widely you're concerned he might pull a face muscle.

"Too much?"

You shake your head as he begins lowering your feet to the floor.

"Not enough."

Then the silence descends as he stares at you. Joel has this uncanny ability to remain so still he almost looks static. His fingers drag the strand of  hair caught on your damp lips, but his finger stays at your cheek, frozen. The moment feels heavy, thick with tension and you second guess everything.  

Maybe now is a bad time. This seems like one of those things a person does when they look and feel perfect. And you don't. You're sweaty and dressed ridiculously and you're pretty sure your hair still has grass in it. 

Joel seems to sense your indecision and responds by reaching out his broad hand and taking yours. You immediately relax, the warmth of his grip guiding you to the kitchen. 

You look up his arm, your eyes sliding to his strong profile and his full mouth as he leads you. He feels your eyes on him and he turns, smiling sweetly. 

I love this man.

His hand presses you gently into the seat at the kitchen table, urging you to relax into it. You look up at him and hold in a sigh when he traces a forefinger along your cheek again. 

"I'll be back in a sec."

He leaves the room and for a moment you sit there in the kitchen of so many memories you feel so incandescently happy that it brings tears to your lash line. Coloring with Sarah. Decorating cupcakes. Joel's dinner, the dropped salad. Laughter, tears, so much is just in this single room of the house. 

Joel reappears seconds after you wipe the tears away. He sits across from you, his broad shoulders flexing as he places something on the table. 

He clears his throat, finally dragging his eyes to meet yours and now suddenly he looks nervous. This makes your anxiety flood your senses, starting to creep up your spine.  

Then you realize the time. How Joel is dressed. How you’re dressed for fucks sake. The wedding is only a few hours away and Sarah is probably still getting ready. Why did you think now was the best time? This is something you should have done when you could take your time, not rush. You’d just been so excited to see him, to tell him.

"Shit I'm sorry. You're probably still getting Sarah ready," you say wincing and preparing to stand. "We can talk about this later, tomorrow or -"

Joel raises his hand in your direction, just his palm between you, stilling your ascent. His eyes are troubled by your reaction. 

"Stop. Honey, just sit there a moment, please." 

Honey.

How is it that words or nicknames that sound so trite coming from other people sound so perfect coming from Joel? You nod, planting yourself back into the chair and taking a deep breath.

"Tommy took Sarah about an hour ago. Maria wanted her to get her hair done with the bridesmaids, a little something special for being the flower girl."

You smile. That sounds like Maria. 

"I was just getting ready here, but I got time." Joel's eyes tell you he's sincere, that he always has time for you. And then suddenly he's so earnest. "I'm real glad you're here."

"Me too."

"Be lyin' if I said I haven't been thinking about you since I left."

"Same here."

"Yeah?"

You nod and Joel's face is like the sun breaking through clouds. But in life rain always does fall, and as if just remembering this, Joel's face tenses. That familiar tic in his jaw is back at he gazes at you. 

"Paul?"

"Gone. Done. Over."

You spare him the details. You have a feeling if Joel knew even a hint of what went on today he would personally drive over to Paul's house and finish what Bill started. And you don't want that. Right now you just want this happy, hopeful joyful warmth. 

Joel swallows and you can see he needs the clarity. To know that he's not imagining this. "This a permanent thing or-"

“I called off the engagement," you explain plainly. "I couldn't marry him. I couldn't be with him. Ever. Not when I feel how I do about you."

Joel tries to hide the smile, but it blooms all over his face all the same. His mouth curls, his eyes squint and you have to physically restrain yourself from leaping across the table and kissing him senseless. 

You think he's going to ask you to explain in more detail. To tell him exactly what you mean about how you feel about him. But his eyes are on the pink paper at his elbow. Joel taps it with a forefinger before sliding it towards you, his eyes on your face. As it approaches you see it's an envelope. 

"Open it up," Joel tells you softly, even though you can see that this envelope has been opened and closed a multitude of times, creased and folded.

You open it with shaking hands, unsure of what to expect inside. He wrote you a letter? When? Large crooked letters greet you. 

"Joel I wunt u to bee my Vallentane. I love Sarah. I love you. I wint to be yr wife. LOVE - "

You read your name aloud, your eyes flicking to his. "What is this?"

"You don't recognize it?" Joel taps the card with a forefinger. A familiar Snoopy sticker greets you and suddenly your face breaks into a confused smile. 

The Valentine that Sarah had made all those months ago, the one she'd insisted you personally give to her father. 

“Sarah…”

"When I asked her about it the next morning she said that you had written it." 

You laugh out loud in disbelief at the shrewdness of Sarah. Joel chuckles along with you. 

"She loves you. She thinks you hang the moon," Joel drawls. 

"The feeling is mutual," you say with a soft smile.

"You're wanted in this house, in this family," Joel says motioning to the letter. "You make us better."

You weren't expecting this. You actually can't speak. 

Joel is thinking, clearly displayed in the lines between his brows, the way his dark eyes scan in front of him as if he's trying to recall something very specific. After a moment you sober, closing the card because you need to say it before you lose your nerve. You need to tell him everything.

"Joel -"

"I'm in love with you," Joel tells you bluntly, beating you to it. "Have been for a while. Thought it was kinda obvious but I'm realizing you're a woman that may need things said out loud a couple times before she believes them. So just to be sure there's no misunderstanding, I'm tellin' you plainly as I can: I love you. I don't want anyone else. I just want you."

The sound of Joel telling you he loves you may just be the most beautiful thing you've ever heard. Better than any song. Even the one he sang to you. He reaches across the table to take your hands in his.

It makes your eyes water and a smile to break out over your features. It also creates a knot in your throat, making it impossible to speak. But that might be for the best because Joel is still going. 

"And I don't just love you because of how you love my daughter, though I'd be lying if I said that didn't have some part in it," Joel admits. "I just don't remember the last time I wanted someone to share my day with or wake up next to as much as I do with you. I go to sleep thinkin' about you. I drive by a shitty Italian restaurant and I think about you. I see a fucking dog at job site I'm working and I think about you. Something happens to me and it's you I wanna talk to about it."

You want to believe these words, you want to believe them so badly but then just as your heart starts to glow, something holds you back. Something that always seems to grip those threads of joy only to slice through them. An ugly, twisting thing that makes you wince and curl into yourself when you remember what Paul said. When you think about your phone call with your father earlier. How can you be so happy when you’ve just been so cruel?

Selfish.

Joel's eyes scan your face, immediately picking up on your agitation. He drops your hands and your eyes slide closed because suddenly you feel so weak. Your head drops forward and all the good feeling, the sweet burst of joy is gone, leaving you drained.

"Honey."

His voice is so tender, so gentle. He's there at your side within seconds, kneeling beside your chair. He's gripping you loosely by the waist, the other hand cupping your face. 

"I can tell right now that you're having trouble hearing this because somewhere along the way you were taught you didn't deserve to be loved," Joel says, his eyes searching your face. "And you're wantin’ to tell me you're a horrible, selfish person. And that I should just forget about you."

He knows. He knows my worst self. He knows everything.

You feel so vulnerable but his eyes are blazing so brightly right now you can't look away. 

"But I'm never gonna do that," Joel says, his thumb grazing along your cheekbone. "'Cuz I think you're the best thing to happen to me since Sarah was born. And if I have to spend my whole life convincing you of that, I will. I will fight every fucking day because what we have is worth fighting for. You are worth fighting for."

If falling in love had a specific moment it would be this one. Joel Miller, all muscles and wet eyes staring up at you as he kneels at your side promising you a love and life you could only dream of. 

"So that's all I wanted to say," Joel finishes with eyes so luminous you could cry. "I love you. Be with me. Just... just let me fucking love you."

His last sentence makes your heart seize. You're so overcome you can't speak right away. Instead you slide off the chair to join him on the floor, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and embracing him, head balanced on his shoulder. 

Joel reciprocates immediately, pulling you against him tightly. There you sit with arms around each other as Joel rocks you. This moment, this deep serenity works its way through your tight muscles and increment by increment you go boneless against him. 

I love him.

With a tremble you pull back. It's still too overwhelming to look at him directly so you just balance your forehead against his, the two of you breathing deeply. You breathe slowly, you matching Joel’s steady tempo.

I love him so much.

And then finally you tilt back from him, needing to see the warmth of his dark brown eyes. He's there, present, his eyes fixed on yours. 

"I want a cat."

Joel nods without thinking before his face contorts into surprise and then confusion.

"Wait, what?"

"A kitten, actually," you decide. "An orange one. Sarah was saying she wants a kitten anyway. "

A grin has broken over Joel's face. It makes him look younger, his entire disposition vibrant. It matches yours. His hands are coming to cup each of your cheeks. 

"Anything you want," Joel breathes. "Anything."

You smile, no, you beam up at him. You can tell him. You can. You can trust Joel to hold your secrets and not hate you. You can trust Joel with your love because it doesn’t come with receipts or price tags or debts to be owed. Your love for him will be cherished, not a ransom so you can be plucked apart piece by piece.

"I came here because I needed to tell you in person that I'm not going to Chicago," you say with a tensing inhale. "I spoke to my dad today."

Joel's thumb is stroking your cheek and for the first time since you've entered into his home, he looks scared. His dark eyes are suddenly pensive and you can see the way the wheels are turning. You’re confused by this reaction.  

"Don't do this for me," he murmurs. "I can't be the reason. Even if I want it more than anything. You'd resent me if you did."

"I didn't," you promise him. "I did it for me. I did it because I want to be happy. I don’t want that life back in Chicago. And I did it because I can't go another day without you, Joel."

Hope blooms there in the dark brown earth of his eyes. It grows beautiful and brilliant but under glass. It's too good to be true; he's so eager, so desperate but past experience has humbled him. 

"Waking up in your arms this morning was one of the best feelings in the entire world," you explain with open honesty. "I want that every morning. I want to have coffee with you and go to the park with Sarah. I want to read her to bed every night and then crawl in next to you. I wanna make pancakes on Sundays and go to trivia nights with you and Maria and Tommy. I want a life with you."

Joel's heart is rapid and staccato the more you spill forth because what you're saying sounds dangerously close to what Joel desires. Is it possible? 

"I'm absolutely crazy about you, Miller," you confess without hesitation now, wanting to take the tentative insecurity from his gaze. "I'm done pretending I don't want you. I'm tired of not holding you. I'm tired of being away from you and Sarah. I want a family with you, I want a future. I want it all but I only want it with you. I-I love you Joel."

The smile is broad on his handsome face, bringing out the dimple that makes your heart hiccup. 

"Really?"

"Yeah." 

He's got a forefinger tilting your chin so you face up to him. 

"No runnin'?"

"Only to you." 

That does something to Joel. Like a snap to his spine. Only to him. Because he's yours and when your lips press against his it's like every wall that exists comes tumbling down, shattering spectacularly. 

You’re his.

It's here, its happening. He's so grateful, so overcome he can't hold it in. 

It's only when you feel damp warmth against your cheek that your eyes fly open. You see another tear slip down Joel's cheek, his eyes still closed as he kisses you tenderly and you feel something within you burst. 

You didn't expect to be crying but here you are, sniffling with hot tears slipping your face. Joel is all glassy eyed trying to wipe your tears from your cheeks as you do the same for him, both your thumbs gliding over each other's cheekbones.

"What a pair," Joel says with a sniffle. 

You both give big watery laughs at this, giggling like you had only a day ago as you walked down the aisle. His thumb is lingering along your lower lip when the laughter slowly ebbs.  

Then his face is tilting towards you and you don't have to turn away. Because there is no Paul, no Tess. Because Joel is taking something for himself and so are you. 

Mine.

Your lips join once more, your eyes falling shut as he brings you back into his arms, sighing against you. He rocks you slowly in his arms, moving his mouth to your temple and murmuring sweet nothings, promises, loving verse. 

Slowly you tilt your head back, your heavy lidded gaze on his. Your eyes trail over his mouth, then back to see him watching you intently. His dark eyes flicker in understanding. His mouth is on yours once more for a scorching kiss and then Joel is standing, holding a wide hand to you. 

You take it without hesitation, rising to your feet and walking hand in hand to the bedroom. You smile softly at each other as he gently pushes the door open and as he does all you can think is that you're finally here with him in his bedroom properly. 

He looks nervously around, as if he’s expecting everything to fall to pieces.

“What are you thinking about?”

“That I wish I’d cleaned the fucking room.”

You see the bedroom through his eyes now and hold in a chuckle. The scattered clothes on the ground, the belts slung over the treadmill in the far left of the room, the bed haphazardly made. The empty water glasses on the nightstand, the CD’s scattered atop the dresser.  

“I can work with this,” you assure him, giggling nervously as he leads you to the bed. He assures you with relief that the sheets are clean before you both sit at the edge of his bed. His hand is on your knee, thumb tracing small circles on the soft inner, leading to your thigh.

You watch this hypnotized, breathing unsteadily when his hand begins to drift upwards, under your skirt. He says your name once, seeing the uncertainty in your features. When you don’t reply he says it again, and now you glance up at him. His brows raise, a silent question. What’s wrong?

"I'm scared," you whisper, your mind suddenly going over everything that could go wrong with this relationship. 

What if you break up? What if Joel turns? What if you run again? It feels too good, too perfect already and time has taught you not to trust the calm times. Time has taught you that calm times come before tidal waves. That calm times are a harbinger of greater carnage.

"Me too." Joel kisses the corner of your mouth. “But I got you, baby.”

You nod, still pensive, even though the pull below your navel is debilitating at this point. Joel urges your gaze to his, seeing the lowering of your lids and the gentle shuddering of you. You can see him there, thick and waiting in his jeans.

“We could wait until tonight,” Joel offers, grazing your arm with his knuckles. “Or tomorrow.  Hell, I’ll wait as long as you need. I just want you here is al-”

No. You don’t want to wait. You need Joel in a way you’ve never needed anyone.

“I can’t wait,” you inform him before the sentence leaves his mouth. You’re on your knees on the bed, your body pressed against his as your mouth tilts towards him.

“Well alright then,” Joel chuckles, his hands going to either side of your neck, his thumbs resting on the architecture of your jaw. You melt into his kiss, your hands gripping his shirt by the front.

Joel shifts back against the headboard, bringing you along with him to straddle his thighs. He kisses you languidly, slowing your frenetic motions. He can feel your movements, quick and sharp like a hummingbirds as you kiss him, tongue sliding between the seam of his soft lips. He pulls back gently, amused.

“We got time, baby,” he breaths against your trembling mouth. “Don’t have to rush anything.”

For some reason that hits you directly below the navel. The knowledge that Joel wants to take his time with you. No rushing, just the lazy pursuit of mutual pleasure. It’s so opposite to what you know of sex.

He's tender, his movements slow, his touches light. But that's not what you want right now. You want to feel it, more heavy tactile reality that this is happening, your body with his. You're straddling him, licking into his mouth as he holds your thighs, his mouth moving over yours as he groans. 

I want to take care of him.

Joel has spent so much of your time together taking care of you – doctor’s appointments, kennels, that night of the Christmas party . . . Joel is always looking out for others and you want to take care of him for once.  It’s not expected or forced upon you, it’s got you slick between the thighs just thinking about it.

“Take my dress off,” you whisper. Joel’s hands come to the hem of your dress with zero hesitation and he peels the unflattering dress from you, lifting it up over your arms stretched high over your head. It’s tossed gently to the other side of the room, making a soft flutter as it descends. You sit astride Joel’s lap in nothing but your lacy green underwear that you’d bought specifically for the wedding.

No bra, you’d decided. The dress fit better without it. Seeing Joel’s eyes darken you’re so fucking glad you decided on that.

“Jesus,” Joel breathes, mouth coming to circle your left nipple without pause. You moan into his mouth, feeling as his hands span your middle back, pushing you into his greedy mouth. You feel him grinding against your core, his jeans rasping against the gusset of your panties.

“Clothes off, Miller.”

He grins up at you, shimmying out of his jeans, kicking them down his legs as you bracket above him. You take your time pulling the shirt over his head, marvelling at how he looks as he disrobes. His skin is gold, his body a mixture of strength of softness. His hair tousled his mouth full and parted. He looks delicious.

You see his eyes snap back to your bare chest, getting ready to claim another straining nub between his teeth when you pull back, smiling. He tilts his head curiously as you begin backing up, sliding your body down his.

He’s breathing shallowly, quickly as your cheek brushes past his boxers, grazing his length there. He gives a sharp grunt, watching as you pull down his boxers, releasing his cock with a spring. You tug them off completely, tossing the boxers over your shoulder with a flourish before nestling yourself between his legs and admiring the rosy head of his cock.

Like you said. Joel Miller looks delicious.

You trail a finger along his length, fascinated by the rigid yet silken texture. It twitches at the contact. You smirk up at him from between his legs, your pupils blown wide at the view. 

Joel is so fucking sexy. Laid back, legs tilted to give you space to lay between them, his cock is there waiting for your mouth and this time it’s happening. No distractions, no delays. You have been aching to get your mouth on him. You dip your head forward, eyes closed as your mouth brushes the head. You hear Joel give a low gasp, thighs twitching.

"You don't have to do this," Joel moans, even as you give kitten licks along the tip.  You smile as his fingers brush your cheek, sweet and affectionate.  

Your mouth moves over the head, flicking with your tongue and then taking it into the wet warmth of your mouth. You begin to suck, delicately at first, just enough to hear the first shuddering groan from Joel.

Joel Miller is a giver. Joel Miller doesn't know what it is to take from the people he loves, to have something for himself, a secret treasure of only his. But you'll show him and starting now because you have so much you want to give to him. If you could carve out your heart and carry on living you would do it, present it to him to safeguard.

"You don't have-"

You pull your mouth off of him slowly, watching him quiver. His eyes are open and he's looking down the length of his body to see you. 

"Joel, I love you but please shut the fuck up and let me do this," you say fake crossly, wet lower lip grazing his tip. "Just let me make you feel as good as you've made me feel."

Joel's eyes are glossy. "Say it again," 

"Shut the fuck up?"

His head jerks so slightly you're not sure you caught it. "No. The other thing."

You smile slyly before your flattened tongue slides from base to tip, your eyes on him the entire time. "Let me make you feel good?"

"The- the other-"Joel makes a strangled groaning noise and you move over the head again, kissing gently as it twitches before taking in his thickness deep into your warm mouth once more. 

As you lay there between his legs in the bed you're struck by the realization that you feel so relaxed. The bed is warm and Joel is warm and when you hear his groans you feel so impossibly good. 

You shut your eyes and just feel and taste and enjoy Joel. You've never wanted to do this for a man so much. Never wanted to take your time and explore them like this. With Joel every piece of him feels sacred, every part of him worthy of your intimate attention and every time he lets out a little moan or grunt you feel yourself grow giddy. You love making him feel good. 

Joel is squirming, his grunts hitting you right at your core. He can't think now, his entire body poised. Your mouth feels so fucking good, he needs more of it. 

Joel never thought that a blowjob could feel loving, but this does. He lays there watching you; your eyes shut so softly, mouth moving achingly slow around him. It feels tender, it's you wanting to take care of him, sweet and soft and oh fuck ... Joel feels his breath come out in a shudder. You feel so fucking good around him. Too good. 

Your hands are palm flat on his thighs, bracing there as you take more of him into your mouth, sighing happily and hollowing your cheeks. Before long you can hear the sound of him whimpering. Soft, gravely whimpers that make you feel heady because you're making Joel fucking Miller whimper. 

"Don't wanna finish in your mouth, baby," he rumbles, pressing your cheek gently. "Not tonight."

You understand, pulling gently off of him. Without pausing you crawl the length of him, coming to rest in his arms beside him. He pulls you flush against his chest, your hips meeting. He’s breathing in soft pants and you can feel him hard against your thigh your own lower half aching with need for him. 

He stares at you for a long time, a curiously long time considering what you'd just been in the middle of doing. His eyes are warm and open as he takes in how your face looks flushed and needy. Yet it's you who says it. 

"You're beautiful."

Joel immediately feels himself flush at your compliment. A guy being beautiful? He's never been called beautiful, and it makes him feel shy. You notice the shy way he looks away, tips of his ears pinking. 

"No," you insist, gripping his face in your hands. "Don't. I love looking at your face. Your beautiful, perfect face."

He smiles, all teeth and dimple which sets your heart racing. He props his head up with one hand, the other going to the back of your neck. He holds you there, one thumb stroking the side of your neck as he stares at you.

As you lay there, face tilted into Joel’s pillow you smile, inhaling gently. The scent of his shampoo and just him. It makes you feel calm, but it also makes you pull a face, cringing as you recall something from months ago. Joel can see it immediately in your face, his own features turning concerned.

"What?"

“Nothing.”

You feel Joel’s eyes on you even with yours closed.  You give an embarrassed smile. "Promise not to laugh?"

"No."

You bark out a surprised laugh, drawing an amused chuckle from Joel. You love making him smile like that, in that unguarded, playful way.  

"Never mind then," you say with a smug smirk, rolling away from him.

"C'mon," he needles you, nose brushing against your neck to tickle, drawing you back to face him again. "Don't be like that. No secrets."

He says it smiling, but you hear that underline in the last sentence. No secrets. No, you don't want any between you either. 

“It’s just a bit embarrassing.”

“I don’t mind,” Joel insists. “I’ll trade you an embarrassing story for yours.”

“You go first.”

“Once when I was eight I got caught stealing baseball cards from one of my friends at school. My mom got called down to the school and I had to apologize in front of everyone.” Joel looks so sheepish recalling this memory you want to laugh.

“Joel that’s barely embarrassing,” you say rolling your eyes.

“Ah ah, deals a deal,” Joel insists, gently tilting your chin so you face him. You sigh.

"Fine. It’s stupid. It's just. . . Back before, when you and I weren't together. . ." You trail off, this story not feeling funny anymore. If anything it makes you sad. 

"What?" Joel looks nervous. "Tell me."

"I snuck in here one time when I was babysitting,” you say in a rush, eyes closed. “And I uh, touched myself on your bed."

Joel looks like he's been electrocuted. He physically jerks. "What?"

You feel yourself going beet red all the way to your roots. Why did this seen like a good story too share? It's humiliating. You pull the sheets over your head, your voice coming out muffled. 

"I told you it was embarrassing!" 

"Jesus Christ," Joel growls. "You were touching yourself in my bed?"

You're silent under the sheets, your breathing unsteady. You'd expected him to laugh at you or even pity you. Neither is happening. His voice drops an octave. 

"Did you come?"

Your toes curl at the husky tinge in his voice. You're powerless when you feel him dragging the sheets down your face, exposing your face to him. His eyes are like furnaces, desire licking the edges. 

"Did you?" 

"Mhmm," you manage. 

"Show me," he rasps and it's like you're back in the kitchen, hands down your pants as Joel begs you to touch yourself for him. You feel him peeling off your panties under the sheets, rolling your hips so that he can remove them entirely.

"Please baby," Joel whispers, kissing your shoulder. Then he pauses to kiss you gently, so gently, reverently on the mouth, eyes searching yours. 

"But only if you want." 

Joel doesn't want what you won't give him freely. He has no desire to take and take like Paul and James. And because of this you want to give him everything. 

And so you nod, flushing when Joel removes the blankets from your body leaving your naked body tingling and exposed to the cool air.

He makes a  low sound in the back of his throat. He takes your hand gently in his, raising it to his mouth. You think he means to kiss you knuckles when his pillowy lips circle your fore and middle finger. Not breaking eye contact he sucks them into his wet, warm mouth, trailing his tongue over your digits, coating them in his spit. 

Satisfied, Joel drags them from his mouth, urging the damp digits along the seam of your throbbing pussy and gently pushing inside. You whimper at the contact, your eyes stuck on his as you begin to work your fingers on either side of your clit. You don't look away from Joel as you do. You simply flush under his heated gaze, your toes curling as you moan at the sensation of not only touching yourself, but by being watched by Joel as you do. He's thick and aching as he watches you but he makes no attempt to touch himself.

He rests his palm over yours loosely. He's not guiding, not moving, he wants to feel you touching yourself, wants to learn what turns you on. 

"I can't believe you're real," he whispers as you begin to rock against your hand. "So fucking perfect."

You're not perfect. Your body has flaws, many that you could point out to him. But when Joel looks at you, dark eyes melting along your curves you know he believes what he says. 

He removes his hand from over top yours, wanting to just watch you. He memorizes the way your lower lip quivers, the way your brows saddle as you stroke yourself. He’s never been so turned on in his life.

"What were you thinking about when you did it?" Joel asks you huskily. 

"You," you murmur, eyes lazily closed as your fingers work between your thighs. You can feel his eyes on you, raking over every part of your body.

"Yeah?" You can hear the smile in his voice. You both already knew the answer, but his ego likes hearing it out loud. 

"Fucking you," you groan, fingers working hurriedly over the pearl of your clit. "Your mouth, fuck your mouth is so sexy Joel."

Joel's (very sexy) mouth moves over your nipple, kissing there. His eyes are on you as he does. 

"And your tongue," you whisper, arching further into his mouth. 

His tongue laves at your straining nub, his teeth coming to graze and then gently nibble. That sends electric currents running through your entire body, your legs jerking out without thought or control.

Then he pulls back, his eyes roaming your flushed and naked body. Your eyes crack open to see him; mouth parted and fixed on your face as you squirm. You whimper his name, the taste of it sweet. He drops his head forward to kiss you, a tender thing. 

"C'mon baby," Joel urges against your temple. "Show me how you made yourself come on my sheets."

You cannot form words. When Joel talks like that, filthy and low and growled it hits directly between your legs. You can offer only a symphony of grunts and mewls and whimpers and you feel your entire body tighten and then blissfully release.

"Oh that's it," Joel murmurs lazily as he watches you come. "Oh fuck. ... Yeah baby... Just like that... All for me."

Always for you, you want to tell him. But you're too far gone, the bliss overwhelming you. And finally you come, coating your fingers as your head is thrown back into the pillow. 

Before you can say anything, Joel is between your legs, gently prying them apart. You make a surprised noise as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders, opening you to him. You watch as his fingers part you.

"Fuck if I'd known," Joel murmurs, licking a stripe up your pussy. He doesn't finish the thought, simply begins to kiss your cunt with wild, open mouthed kisses that have you arching back into the bed.

"Joel I -"

"C'mon baby," he groans, sucking on your clit languidly. "My mouth and my tongue remember? Be good and come on 'em now."

Jesus Christ. You’re already there. Already so close when he sucks your clit into his mouth, humming in delight as your thighs tremble around his head. And its only seconds when you feel yourself cresting. He feels it too, making encouraging humming noises as his hands come to hold you in place, spanning over your lower abdomen.

And then you feel your entire body release against his tongue, punching out groans as he laps between your legs, murmuring how good you taste, how much he’s missed your pussy, how he can’t believe how lucky he is.

You murmur his name, arms outstretched in his direction. He crawls to you, up the length of your naked body pressing glossy o’s on your exposed flesh as he ascends. Then his face gets near and you can see his eyes are unfocused. You sigh softly as his mouth finds yours. 

He kisses you long and slow, his tongue dancing with yours. It's not long before you feel his free hand sliding down from your neck, over your straining nipple, along your lower belly and then coming to cup your sex softly. 

You let out a small choked noise when his fingers slide down the seam, parting you. Brushing against your aching core. 

"Want you inside me," you urge, impatiently, his mouth still moving over yours. Joel chuckles, a warm, loving sound that feels like a cracking fireplace. 

"You nice and wet for me?" he asks even though as his fingers slowly curl around your swollen bud, he can tell you're absolutely soaked. He sinks the first finger in, finding absolutely no resistance. You're so ready, so open and you take him to the knuckle without hesitation, moaning. 

He watches the emotions flicker across your face as he adds a second finger, slowly working them in and then out. Sees the shuttering of your eyes as you lean into his hand whimpering. Your exquisite, your here, your his. 

"All mine," he rumbles against your jaw. 

It feels so good. His wide fingers hit those perfect spots that you're fingers can never seem to reach. You crack your eyes open to see Joel staring at you, his eyes so dominated by his pupil they look black. He moans softly when you're eyes meet his. He's taking his time, so fucking slowly. 

"Please Joel," you whisper breathlessly. Your eyes are heavy with need, matching his. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

He nods and the bed creaks as he rolls gently over top of you. Another deep kiss is pressed to your mouth as his hips find yours. He notches himself at your entrance and instinctively your thighs go to bracket his hips. 

I love him. I love him. I love him.

Your entire body is trembling, and this is only soothed when you realize that Joel's is as well. His entire body has broken into small, shudders of aching need. Your eyes drift open and his heart swells as you grin up at him.

You need him. No more waiting. You lean forward, kissing him gently. He responds in kind, one hand against your lower back pulling you tighter to him. You think that you could spend your entire life kissing Joel and it wouldn't be nearly enough. 

He's braced on his forearms above you, one wide hand coming to brush the hair from your face. 

"Wanted this for so long," he tells you in a murmur and you know he doesn't just mean the sex. Your eyes are glassy as you nod up at him. 

"Me too." 

He moves slowly into you, your shifting hips leading him into your waiting core. You hiss slightly at the intrusion. He's bigger than Paul or James. 

"Easy," Joel whispers against your temple. "Don't have to rush it."

You nod as his mouth comes to meet yours, his body moving languidly against yours. His left hand finds yours gripping the sheets. He slips his palm over yours, lacing your fingers in his and holding you there. You feel your entire body melt into his. 

"Fuck, honey ... So good," Joel groans as he continues to sheaths himself in you, his head falling forward against your shoulder on the pillow. You whimper, needy and desperate for more. He feels so good. So right. "Those sounds."

He licks into your mouth, groaning as your hands come to rest under his arms, gripping his broad back as you urge him deeper and deeper.

“You’re so deep,” you groan, body jerking against his. The bed creaks gently, rhythmically as he fucks you. No, not fucking – he makes love to you. As if he thinks your body is as sacred as you think his is.

"Say the other thing," Joel whispers against your neck. "Please."

You feel his hips surge forward, filling both your body and heart. You smile, tilting your cheek so he looks at you. You won't say this next part until your gazes are locked. 

"I love you," you say, rolling your hips up against him, your body in communion with his. You see his eyebrows saddle, his eyes watery. 

"Again, please," he groans, his eyes never moving from your face. He didn't even need to ask because the words are already there, offered to him as they will always be offered to him. 

"I love you, Joel."

His mouth is on yours, and his hips plunge deeper into you and now he's rambling between deep kisses, speaking against your mouth. 

"I love you... so long... F-fuck, feel so… Wanna make you feel good, fucking l-love you so much."

His hips are snapping, his resolve unravelling as you cry out. He feels so good, so perfect between your thighs. You wonder if it is always supposed to feel this good, this easy. Desire licks at your belly, your hand coming to cup his cheek so he's looking at you. Something about his eyes, seeing them vacillate between dreamy and sharp makes you lose control. 

"You gonna come again baby?" Joel murmurs to himself, his body coiled. Joel is, as he was not so long ago that time when you rode his thigh, amazed at how quickly you do. How perfectly in synch your bodies are.

His voice is tinged with lust obviously, but also a deep affection that borders on awe. It makes your pulse spike and your body begins to spasm because you’re so fucking close, the pleasure building to an almost uncomfortable level. 

"J-joel-"

"S'okay," Joel tells you with a kiss. "I've got you. I've got you, baby, just let go."

These words, these gentle urging words are what send you cresting and you come with a sharp moan. Your body moves in time with his and you don't realize that you're crying until Joel's hips slow and he's peering into your face. 

"Do you want to stop? Are you okay?"

"What?! Don't stop!" You gasp, urging his hips with a small tap of your hand. It feels so good, you’re already on the precipice again.

He seems to understand because his movements restart in earnest and his mouth is kissing your tears away. You’re hiccup-crying but only because it feels so perfect, the bliss so intense and you're just so thankful for him. For existing. For loving you in a way you'd never thought possible. And you’re crying because you get to be the one to love Joel.

And soon you do come again; your cries are loud, jagged and needy as he thrusts against you over and over. You chant his name, kissing his mouth, arms around his shoulder for purchase as he seeks to bury himself further inside you.   

"I love you," you cry, your hips rolling against his, wanting to make him feel as good as you do. "Love you so fucking much, Joel."

He spills into you, his groans sharp in your ear as he groans out your name, long and low. It seems to go on forever, filling you so deeply. His body is still wrapped around you as his hips finally stutter to a stop. 

You stay like that, tangled against one another until Joel presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth and gently eases himself from between your slick thighs. You both sigh as he rolls to your side, pulling you into his arms as if he’s terrified to let you go.

You want to go to sleep, snuggled like this in the warmth of his arms but you’re far too aware of the time.

"We should shower," you say with a pant. 

"Together?" Joel murmurs, raising a brow over the eye peering in your direction from the pillow. 

"Christ, Miller," you say with a breathy laugh. "If we do that we're never making it to the wedding."

And while there isn't time for a communal shower there is time for a soft "I love you". It’s whispered against one anothers' lips, like a flower pressed between the pages of a book, before you leave hand in hand for the wedding a short while later. 

There will always be time for that.

///

Sarah has always been a grateful child. She's always been quick with her thank you's, never found it difficult to share her toys and loves seeing those she cares for happy.  

So when her fifth birthday wish of a mama had come true so perfectly in the form of you, she thought it only fair to use her sixth birthday wish for something more philanthropic. 

That day with her father at her side, whispering to make a wish she had done so with thought of Joel and he alone. 

I wish my daddy had a wife.

And now as she stands looking up from her basket of real flower petals to see you and her daddy walking hand in hand towards her, gazing at each other and then her. 

The two of you are trying so hard not to be too obvious and failing spectacularly. Daddy is smiling so widely Sarah actually smiles just looking at him. He's staring at you as the two of you walk, making your way to the ranch. 

You're all blushing, laughing at something Daddy said. You both look so beautiful with you in your dress and him in his suit. 

The two of you both look over and see Sarah at the same time and it's hard to say who looks more excited, you or daddy. 

"Hey bug!" "Hi babygirl!"

The two of you laugh at your mingled pet names as you reach her. You're the first to drop to your knees and Sarah doesn't miss the way her father stares at the back of your head with a sweet little smile. 

Sarah feels her tiny heart hammering as you look to her with arms outstretched and she runs into them, her tiny arms wrapping so tightly around your neck you give a grunt.

Sarah looks over your shoulder at her Daddy. She's confused when she sees his eyes are wet. But his smile is right, so she doesn't think much of it. She pulls back and is confused that your eyes are wet too. 

But maybe it's just allergies? Sarah heard one of the other bridesmaids talking about how an outdoor wedding was hell on hers at the salon earlier today. 

"Daddy can we have pancakes tomorrow morning?"

"'Course, babygirl."

"And you'll be there right?" Sarah says, looking to you imploring. You seem momentarily taken aback, glancing up at Joel suddenly anxious. 

"Yeah, she'll be there," Joel assures you both with a smile. "She's actually gonna be over a lot more often."

Sarah looks at your face breaking into a smile again. Sarah grins, wanting to scatter all the flower petals in the world right now. But then you sober, taking both of her little hands in yours. 

"If that's okay with you, Sarah," you say seriously, your eyes searching her face. "I don't want you feeling uncomfortable."

Sarah can tell there's no guile there. If Sarah told you no, you'd respect it. She can feel that. 

"S'okay with me," Sarah says. "I like you there."

"Thanks bug," you say and press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. Like a mom would. Sarah feels warmth blooming through her body. 

"Maybe you could have a sleepover at our house." Sarah looks over at her Daddy. "Daddy can she sleep over?" 

You give Daddy a funny look when he barks out a laugh.  

"Yep," Daddy says trying not to grin too wide. "She can sleepover whenever she wants."

You stand, taking his hand again, smirking and Sarah wants to say more but then the mean wedding lady is there. 

But Sarah doesn't care, because she's looking at Daddy kissing your head and all she can think is that she's so happy that her birthday wish came true. 

///

"You're late," Abby snaps as she approaches the three of you. "And are those grass stains?"

She looks over your dress with distaste, holding your bouquet and Sarah's flower girl basket. 

"Probably," you say giving her a level gaze. "Had to kick the shit out of someone before I got here."

You wince only when you realize Sarah might have heard that. But she looks distracted by the basket. 

Joel gives you a surprised look that matches Abby's. Abby thrusts the bouquet into your arms and murmurs an order of going to the barn as she hands Sarah the basket. 

You hold the bouquet at waist level, turning to Joel with an expectant look. He offers his arm and you take it. Sarah goes dashing excitedly ahead and you follow as Joel gives you a curious look. 

"Do I wanna know?"

"I'll tell you about it sometime," you with a wink. "Maybe."

You never will though, because if Joel knew half of what Paul did there would be a fine dusting of Paul scattered all over his new apartment in Leander. Your eyes scan for Maria and Tommy. 

"Did I tell you how gorgeous you look?" Joel murmurs, distracting you.

"Bullshit," you bite back with a smile. "I look like a sad piece of lettuce."

"Well, I always liked eatin' my vegetables," Joel whispers back. 

"Joel!"

You clap a hand over your mouth, holding in the bubble of laughter. You refuse to walk down this aisle collapsing into laughter again. You turn your head into his shoulder as you walk, hiding your laughter as Joel chuckles. 

He feels his heart swelling as he looks down at you tucked up against him, face pink. 

"I love you so fucking much," Joel whispers against the crown of your head. You look up, smiling bright. 

"Ditto, Miller."

///

When the two of you walk down the aisle, you try not to be too obvious. This is Maria and Tommy's day. You make sure you don't look at each other; you don't graze hips as you walk, you don’t smirk. You simply link arms, walking at the right pace for the band.

Tommy is at the end of the aisle with a new haircut looking at you and Joel with an inscrutable look. 

You've done well, you think. But then Joel gives everything away when you drop linked arms. Because instead of just walking in separate directions you feel his wide hand skate down your back, hitting your lower back, fingers curling before pulling slowly away, as if he can't stand not touching you. 

Just that contact is enough to have goosebumps rising all over your body. You duck your head, unable to meet Tommy's gaze as you walk past him. 

You stand across from one another on either side of the aisle, forcing yourself not to stare at one another. 

But you feel Joel's eyes on you, and you relent, dragging your gaze from the sea of faces and over to him. From here you can see just how good Joel looks. Dark navy suit, tailored, crisp white shirt underneath. He looks so sexy you actually have to force yourself to look away. 

You feel eyes on you and you glance over to see Frank smiling up at you in the crowd. You feel your face pink as he shoots you a waggle of his eyebrows. Bill isn't watching you, his eyes are on Joel. 

Maybe Frank isn't the only one to think your boyfriend is cute.

Your boyfriend. Joel is your boyfriend.

It seems like everything and yet not enough.

Then the sound of the band starts up again and you both quickly look up to see Sarah with a serious look on her face. With amusement you watch as she delicately takes one petal from the basket, crouches and places it on the aisle runner atop the grass. She does this with the next petal. . . And the next one. . . Moving an inch at a time.

You see Joel giving a smirk accompanied by a wince as the crowd titters. At this rate you're all going to be here for hours. Inspired you call out to her over the music. 

"Make it colorful, bug."

She seems to understand, her face breaking into a wide smile. She nods, thrusting her hand into the basket and tossing handfuls of colorful petals into the air, moving quickly down the aisle.  

The crowd cheers as you and Joel laugh, watching her dance down the aisle tossing the flower remnants in every direction. Finally she reaches the end of the aisle, looking up to you expectantly.

"Was I good?"

"The best.”

Maria enters on her father's arm. You can see Sheila crying in the front row, blowing her nose as you hold in a giggle at this.

Maria is ethereal. The dress made for her. Ethereal isn't even enough to describe how angelic she looks in the off-white dress that clings to her hips and dances down over her knees. The sun is setting, casting everyone in the golden hue of the day. It feels magical. 

She double winks at you as she nears the end of the aisle and you return it. A code from your club days.

Two winks: you good?

Two winks back: I'm good.

She smiles and nods, handing you her large brides bouquet before turning to face Tommy who is staring at her in quite the same way Joel stares at you. 

The Minister waits for the band to conclude the last strains of the song before he begins. 

"Dearly beloved..."

///

You and Joel have done very well at keeping your hands to yourselves for the duration of the wedding. It was a bit difficult during wedding photos, but there were so many orders of where to stand and how to pose that you were both distracted.

It's easy during dinner because you're seated on either side of the couple at the head table. You're squished between Maria and an annoying cousin of hers that won't stop talking about her manicure. 

Joel is next to Tommy with Sarah next to him, her tiny feet kicking the air as she eats her pasta. 

The speeches are lovely with lots of laughter, lots of wine and lots of good food. The music is amazing as well, upbeat and fun and it gets the crowd dancing. When you look at the band you feel a little thrill go through you when you remember Joel singing to you. 

You watch him now, Sarah's hands in his as they dance together. She's giggling and saying something that makes Joel laugh. In a motion as old as dance itself, Sarah's tiny feet are atop her father's and he shuffles them around the dance floor. 

Bill and Frank are dancing, well, Bill is shuffling while Frank goes full out, arms in the air as he sings along with the vocalist.

Maria and Tommy are very good dancers, shockingly so. You love seeing the affection they have for one another, even when they're laughing and doing silly dances. 

It's the slow dance that brings a halt to your plans of restraint. You sit at your table, falling more in love with Joel every second.

You watch him stride to your table, popping Sarah into her chair with the coloring book and crayons Maria made sure were there for the kids attending the wedding (she thinks of everything!) she happily goes back to the Disney princess she was coloring. 

Then he's come to your chair and holds his large hand out to you.

"May I have this dance?"

As if you could refuse.

You beam up at him, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor. You admire the breath of his shoulders, the tapering of his waist. And he's all yours. Because you are never letting Joel Miller go. 

Ever. 

The song is slow and sweet. You glance over to see Maria and Tommy kissing gently before her head nestles in the crook of his neck. 

You long to do the same with Joel, but you don't want to draw the extra attention. 

Instead you try and remain stoic as Joel's hand spans your lower back. One of your hands goes to curl over Joel's shoulder, your free hands in clasped in one anothers. 

You dance like this a while, trying so hard not to make it obvious that you're desperately in love with the man that holds you to him, swaying you gently to the music. You hear him gently humming the tune of the song under his breath. 

Joel is trying his hardest not to stare at you, but it's impossible. He's wished for you so long that it still seems surreal that your here in his arms and your staying.* it makes his stomach twist pleasantly. 

He looks down at you, mouth hitched in a boyish grin. 

"So, you still like me?"

"Nah," you reply, your eyes dancing. "Pretty sure I'm in love with you." 

"That's a relief," Joel murmurs, aching to kiss you. "Because I was thinking I'd like to marry you sometime pretty soon."

You feel your heart jump at this. Your entire body breaking out into a delicious shiver as Joel stares down at you.

"That's convenient," you reply just as smoothly. "Because I was thinking I'd really like to be your wife someday soon."

Joel grins widely, so handsome and so sexy that you feel overcome. The song ends and with reluctance you pull back. You can't go several more hours without feeling him against you. You tilt forward, dropping your voice.

"Outside. Five minutes." 

Joel nods, pretending to part from you. You walk back from the dance floor on your way to grab a drink when you spot Bill making his way back from the drink station. You call him over.

"Thank you for earlier," you tell him, heart swelling. "Both you and Frank. I don't know what I would have done."

"Was nothing," Bill says shyly. 

"It was everything," you correct gently. "But I think you know that." 

Bill's shrugging. "Saw you arrived with the contractor."

Now it's your turn to give a shy shrug. "Yeah."

"You told him," Bill observes. There's no emotion in his voice, good or bad. You suppose because then he'd feel responsible one way or the other. But his eyes give everything away.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"I'm really glad I did." 

The corner of Bill's mouth curls ever so slightly under his beard. 

"Good."

You feel so much affection for Bill in this moment. Watching him stride over your lawn to protect you this morning. The advice he's given you. Baking cupcakes for Sarah. The way he's just there when you need him. Glowering or sullen yes, but he's there. 

"Bill.... I just... My dad was never... I just wanna," you're stumbling over the words, trying to find them. To thank him for being the father you always wanted without even realizing. To thank him for his steady, calming presence even when it didn't come naturally to him.

And in a move you'll swear was a dream, Bill pulls you with one arm into his barrel chest. He holds you there tightly only a moment and releases you.

"You know we're always here if you need."

And then he's gone before you can say more, striding away from you and back to Frank who is deep in conversation with Sarah. 

You're in a daze when you feel a hand glide over the small of your back. You watch as Joel moves past you and out into the warm night. 

He glances back just before ducking around the corner, just long enough to give you a sultry wink that hits you so hard you actually stumble walking.  Jesus, your entire body is thrumming. You need to get Joel back into bed as soon as possible. Maybe you won't ever leave it. There are worst fates.

You wait a few moments, trying to be discreet before you slip out from the loud party and outside. The cicadas reach you, the warm breeze dancing along your face as you step out the barn doors. 

"Hey pretty lady," a deep voice sounds from your left. "You single by any chance?"

You turn, giggling when you see Joel leaning against the outer wall of the barn. His jacket is off, his white button down sleeves rolled to the elbows. He looks delicious. 

"Nah I've got this big, strong boyfriend," you tease as you slink towards him. "And you better be careful ‘cuz he's got a real bad temper. He punched a guy in a McDonald's once."

Joel holds in a sharp laugh, reaching for you. "Yeah but he had it coming."

"Couldn't agree more," you nod, allowing Joel to pull you into his arms. 

You go boneless against him as he kisses you, his hands on either side of your face. He pauses only when he feels you tense up, his large eyes scanning your face.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm scared at how good this feels," you confess to him without hesitation. "I've lived a whole life of waiting for the other shoe to drop. This feels too good. I'm too happy."

"You don't have anything to worry about," Joel promises you. "No shoe droppin' with the Millers. We take care of each other."

"I'm not a Miller."

"Just a formality," Joel assures you between kisses. 

You grin through a watercolor blur and wrap your arms around his neck. 

"I love you," you say against his jaw, just because you can say it. You get to say this to Joel anytime you want. 

"Ditto."

Joel wedges a finger under your chin and tilts your face to him. He presses his mouth over yours once more. You sigh, arms wrapping around his neck. He's so wonderful.

His mouth finds yours again and again and your hips find his and before long he has you pressed against the barn with one of your thighs wrapped around his waist. His tongue is slipping slowly against yours as you whimper. 

You can't help it; kissing Joel is like a drug and you always want more. Your hands are at his collar, his hands at your lower back pressing you into him. 

"You gonna sleepover tonight?" Joel laughs, kissing you down your neck. The sleepover comment from earlier still amusing him.

"If you'll have me."

"Anytime," Joel promises, his body flush with yours against the side of the barn. "Need you in my bed as much as possible. Wanna take you there right now." 

If Joel has it his way you'll never leave his bed again. 

His kisses grow more insistent and he feels your body shuddering against his. Could you make it to his truck? Just for fifteen minutes? 

"Save it for after the cake cutting, would ya?"

The two of you break apart sheepishly at the sound of Tommy's voice. You glance behind you to see Tommy and Maria smirking at you as they come through the back of the barn. 

Joel feels Tommy's eyes on him, twinkling and merry. Joel's mouth twists into an embarrassed smirk. 

"Shut the fuck up."

Tommy moves over to his brother, somehow seeming to know that you and Maria need a quick chat. 

Maria's eyes are wet, and she's trying so hard not to grin too wide, for fear of creasing her very heavy wedding makeup. 

You think back to all the times she tried to warn you off Paul, all the times she tried to push you to Joel and you feel your face crumple. You wrap your oldest friend in your arms.

"Maria, I'm so-"

"Don't you dare apologize," Maria tells you firmly, pulling you back so she can peer into your face, wiping the tears that have escaped down your cheek. "Not for this. Never."

"Okay," you nod, knowing that this is what your friendship is. No recriminations, no long-standing grudges. Just two friends who want to see the best for one another. 

"I just wanted you to be happy," she says, eyes welling. "That's all I ever want for you."

"I am," you whisper, voice breaking. "I'm so fucking happy."

Sarah dashes over to you, wanting to show you and her aunt all the flowers from the tables she's collected into her flower girl basket. You hoist her onto your hip so you can all marvel at the colorful arrangements inside. 

"Next time listen to me when I tell you something," Maria says with faux irritation over the basket. "I'm never wrong."

"Except when you tried to tell me I looked good in leather pants," you reason. 

"I'll give you that one," Maria relents and you both dissolve into laughter. Despite having no idea what's so funny, Sarah joins in, one arm around your neck as she giggles. 

At the sound the Miller men glance over at you with stars in their eyes. Tommy places a hand on his older brother's shoulder, shaking his head as if you're the silliest bunch he's ever laid eyes on.  

"Well, that's our future, Joel."

"Yeah," Joel says, grinning at you as you catch his eye beaming.

"Yeah it is."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #dad joel miller #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #happily ever after #happy ending #slice of life #joel miller fic #happy Joel Miller #wedding #Sarah Miller #joel the last of us

[chefkids]

So what comes next?

In case you have not heard. Season 3 might be the last. This was the same source that first announced that the bear will have additional episodes and they would begin filming in February so I would say they are pretty reliable. It was also Chris' intention to just do 3 seasons, and based on the major themes I do think it makes sense.

The timeline to pay back Jimmy was 18 months. We're already 3 months in. I doubt Season 3 will cover an entire year and 3 months. So why end it at Season 3 when there is still so much that could happen and they could explore?

The Bear will shut down.

It's not unheard of for Michelin star restaurants to shut down. I could see them giving it their all and even getting a star or two, but in the end it still not being enough. Operating costs is extremely high. Gentrification was touched lightly in season 1 with the landscape of the neighborhood changing. Many Michelin restaurants are part of restaurant groups and have large financially backing plus generate income through other products like books or packaged goods.

The show has been setting up everyone to be ready to be on their own if or when the time comes.

Marcus becoming a legit pastry chef.

Tina leveling up in the kitchen as a sous.

Richie becoming a high end host and expediter.

Natalie becoming a manager and also a mom.

They have all gained skills that could get them a job anywhere else. Carmy and Sydney are the ones still stuck.

Sydney is terrified of having to start over once again, because she's scared of time running out for her. She's not even 30, most people don't get to have their own restaurants until much later in life. She wants what Carmy got and she wants to share it with him.

Carmy doesn't know what he's doing on his own. Mikey was his motivation but now that he's accepted he's gone, the only thing that seems to get him motivated is his fear of disappointing Sydney. He started cooking out of spite and has seemingly ignored all his other interests like fashion and drawing.

They need want each other. I think it will end with knowing that they will have each other even if it's not about the restaurant anymore, because really this show was never really about the restaurant but the people in it.

Syd will stop stressing about time, Carmy will find his own purpose. And maybe 10 years down the line they'll give it another try and build something completely new and he'll actually be there for her in the process. I think it will be bittersweet, but still hopeful.

Honestly this is the only way that I can see it having a concrete ending, without leaving a ton of questions in the air, while still having a optimistic door open for the future. In the end the restaurant might have not succeeded financially, but it brought everyone together and made them better.

#the bear #the bear meta #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #the bear fx #chefs kiss #the bear season 3

[levilaughlove]

☁️► Heads up : M x m romance, cheating/disloyalty, mentions of emotional abuse, manipulation & gaslighting. Reader is taller than Levi by 3 in. Mentions of mental breakdowns & indecent language & ofc, smut.🗞 > Chapter 1 .

""Is this really how low you think of me?", Is what she asked me, Levi, am I the issue?" Your broken voice explains the situation to your longtime best friend, Levi Ackerman.

"I know I shouldn't have came to her like that..I should've been softer." You continued, only lower this time. "You did what you felt was right." Levi finally says. "How much kinder can you be to that self-absorbed bitch? She's drained all of your energy." He adds, hyperfocusing on your sleep-deprived eyes.

"If I showed you photos of what you looked like before you met her, you'd be astonished." He snarls.

"I know you're upset with her but, she is my wife." You defend. "Your wife or your disease?" You chuckle at his snappy remark.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence until your phone begins to vibrate. The device lights up revealing an incoming call. Levi sighs at the name on screen.

"How fucking convenient..." Levi murmurs. You gaze at him pleadingly & he whisps his hand through the air as a sign to answer it. You pick up the phone & accept the call.

"Hello?" You ask.

A muffled female voice could be heard from the other line. She doesn't sound too happy.

Levi's gray eyes glare at the phone ,then, rolls his eyes and falls back onto the bed. "A-alright, (f/n), I'll be home soon. Bye-bye." You quickly end the call.

"What did it say?" Levi asks unenthusiastically. "It? Levi, I know you don't like her but, please..." "I don't care, that's how she treats you, what makes her any better?" He quickly adds. You couldn't argue that.

Levi stares at you with an unexplainable expression in his eyes. "Before you think about going off anywhere, at least eat. She can wait 30 minutes." He says, arising from the bed & leaving the room. You follow quickly behind.

"I've got lots of options, mozzy sticks, mac & cheese, I can make you an egg & bacon sandwich.." He continues. "Egg & bacon sounds nice..." You accept shyly. Levi hums & begins to get the items.

While you waited, you began to think. You were so grateful that Levi still takes care of you, even after all these years. You reminisce on your favorite memory of him. It was bittersweet ,but the love & care you had for one another was evident. You were 4, Levi was 7 & he was moving far from your shared hometown. You were his closest friend & he was yours. On the bridge could be seen young you clinging onto Levi tightly with tears in your innocent eyes. Levi tried to keep a stone face even then but couldn't help how his heart felt.

" I'll be back, this isn't forever...pea. Stop crying.." Levi's voice shakes and he hold yours small body, hesitant to let go. "Why...please stay, I need you here.." Your tears kept flowing down your full cheeks, eyes loosely closed. A woman's voice called for Levi to hurry up. "I gotta go now, kay'?" Levi quickly wipes his tears, giving another attempt at a stone face. "Bye." "Goodbye, pea."

Just the thought of it makes you choked up but it doesn't just have a sad tinge anymore, but an innocent, admirable one. You wonder if Levi remembers that.

"Earth to M/n." Levi says loudly. "Hm? Yeah..." You look down to see Levi had finished making the food. Levi looks concerned for a second before returning back to his ordinary expression. You ended up staying much longer than anticipated. You knew your wife would raise hell once you were home.

"Fuck, it's been 2 hours..." You exclaimed worriedly. "If anything goes down, you could always come to me." Levi says trying to relax you.

You give him a thankful gaze before heading to the front door. Looking back once, you wave to Levi, which he nods to.

.

.

You cautiously open the front door to your house.

Your wife is sat on the couch, already meeting eyes with you. She looks furious. "I called you at 2:00 & you're only just getting home at 4!?" She screams then bolts over to you, trying to force intimidation. "Who are you fucking, huh?" She screams again.

"I was at a friend's...(f/n)." You slightly dismiss her and wander off to your shared bedroom, undressing yourself as she follows closely behind.

"So why the fuck couldn't you say so? You need to respect me more! Do you know that at any moment I could fuck you over!? WHO DO YOU THINK THEY'LL BELIEVE?! Me!" She lashes out snatching your phone from your hand, shattering it onto the wooden floor below.

You went into a state of shock, your eyes hyperfocused on her enraged person, everything that wasn't here seemed to look like static. You began to get dizzy. You held your head as you almost lost your footing. Levi, you need Levi. You can't breathe.

You shove past her, she falls to the ground forcefully. You just want to go. You need comfort, why is she like this? This wasn't who she was when you first met her! The rain is heavy outside as you push past the front door and onto the sidewalk, cars rush past you, adding to your anxiety. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier. It's hard to see due to the rain, you're uncomfortable & soaked. The rain wasn't the only thing dampening your face, but your heavy, warm tears.

Finally, the familiar door number 255 came into sight. You banged as hard as you could on the door. Crashes of lightning roar through the sky.

Levi opens the door & your soaked body immediately crashes onto his. He understood without words. You hyperventalate & try to explain but he hushes you, he already knows. Your eyes red & teary holding onto Levi tight, & likewise him to you.

Everything began to fade to nothing.

#levi ackerman smut #gay #lemon #angst #bottom male reader #levi x male reader #levi aot #levi ackerman x male reader

[earthnashes]

Melon slows his gallop to a halt once he reached the break through the trees, and feels a strange sense of Déjà vu; he stood on this particular cliff edge of the island in what feels like ages, but familiarity settles in all the same. He looks out over the horizon into the vast open expanse, down at his map. Up, down, then up again.

As marked, the little human village is merely a day's trip away. Unlike the first time he searched for it on his favorite cliff-- with the jungles and valleys and caves and foes as obstacles-- the only thing between them and the end of their long journey is nothing but the calm sea.

Melon takes in a deep breath. This is it. All of the danger and hardship, finally coming to a close. He feels a sense of relief in it, but as he gives a playful trot in place--and hears the familiar squeal of laughter from Mario as the boy hugs his neck, just like the day they started this adventure-- Melon suddenly feels a sense of sadness.

Despite everything, something in the yoshi doesn't want it to end. Not if it means being separated from Mario forever.

He's come to care for the human cub as if he were his own, and the thought of parting ways with him hurts the yoshi in a way he didn't expect. He needed his new family; he needed to be around his own kind. But Melon knows he's gonna miss him terribly.

The yoshi's breath releases in a heavy, bittersweet sigh, and he allows himself to get lost in the memories of their journey, staring blankly ahead. So preoccupied with reminiscing, Melon fails to notice Mario's laughter suddenly stop. He doesn't notice the patting against his shoulder, growing more insistent the longer he remains still.

He doesn't notice how the light of the sinking sun is suddenly blotted out by incoming silhouettes. Not until it's too late.

-------------------

Part 9 of Melon's Adventure, donezo! Only one more part left before this ark of the story comes to a close!

I'm pretty sure I mentioned this a while ago, but this is where the story ultimately takes a turn to deviate from the canon plot of the game. This is specifically because Kamek and Bowser are not responsible for Mario and Luigi's kidnapping in this version. It's someone else! Can you guess who? The lil critters in the last two parts are hints. ;)

At any rate, giving ya'll this update early! Last part will take a little while because I got ambitious, so there’s likely no update for this lil story next Monday. I’ll instead post something else! Until then, thank ya’ll for taking a peek! ^.^

#Super Mario #yoshi's island #nintento #nintendo headcanon #au #headcanon #my art #my stuff #yoshi #melon #mario

[kiyosamu]

Then & Now. ♡

——— ♡ ———

Pairing: Osamu Miya x Reader

Genre: Fluff! Angst if you squint? Maybe? High school sweethearts who reunite as adults. ♡

——— ♡ ———

Growing up, the idea of a first love was embedded into your mind with theatric-like imagery. A dramatic, beautiful first kiss. Loud, screaming arguments over unwarranted jealousy. Passionate, intense declarations of love for the entire world to hear. A love that felt so real it physically hurt. A love that, when it came to it’s inevitable demise, would stick to you for the rest of your life, leaving you wondering “what if…?”.

That’s what you thought, anyway, until you’d experienced it first-hand.

Your relationship with Osamu was nothing like that. In fact, it was almost too easy. A fast forming friendship in your first year blossoming into a romantic relationship as high school seniors. You two just… clicked.

When the two of you made things official, it wasn’t the grand proposal you’d hoped for. Instead, it was Osamu waking up next to you with a sleepy smile and incoming hangover asking you the classic “what are we?”. You simply smiled back, knowing damn well the night before that the liquid courage had run through both of you to the point of confessing your true feelings and realizing they were mutual.

Osamu was comfortable. He was carefree, but not recklessly. He paid attention in school and had priorities, but didn’t let small things bother him. “Don’t worry about it” he’d say, pulling you against him with an arm around your waist. “I’ll take care of it.” “It’s no big deal.” “It’s fine.” “Just leave it to me.”

Dependable, reliable Osamu who always seemed to fix any major or minor inconvenience in your life with a simple solution and saving you from yourself for the zillionth time.

Despite the positives of your relationship, even you couldn’t dodge the cliché “we’re going to different colleges, so let’s break up” trope. You talked it over, mutually deciding it’d be too stressful to continue your relationship when you were going to school 6 hours away. You spent your last few days together as if everything was normal, and then you just… left.

“Too bad.” His gaze dropped to the floor, a bittersweet smile crossing his lips. “We coulda had a real nice life together.”

You nodded and laced your fingers in his.

“It was nice while it lasted, though.” Osamu sighed, looking down at you. Your eyes met his, only for a moment, before you fully embraced him and soaked in every ounce of him. Muffled, barely audible words came from your lips as you pushed your face into his chest.

“It was nice while it lasted.”

But it didn’t hurt like you’d expected it to. You didn’t want it to. Your relationship with Osamu was wonderful. He was perfect for you, and the two of you shared so many incredible memories. You smiled when you thought back to one of your silly inside jokes. Felt warm when you saw anything that reminded you of him.

While you started casually dating other people in your second year of college, Osamu didn’t do the same. He was busy opening a restaurant and supporting his brother, information that you’d collected from his few and far between Facebook updates. Other than that, you hadn’t really spoken since the day you’d left.

The years flew by, and just like you’d promised your family, you moved back home the day after your college graduation.

Various relatives cooed over you, commenting on how different you looked, how proud they were of you, hurling questions at you the moment you stepped inside that you instantly regretted returning after such an eventful week.

“Where are you going? You just got home!” You mom called as she watched you lace up your shoes from the other room.

“Out. I’ll be back soon.”

That stressful evening is how you’d ended up at a dodgy, dimly lit bar two streets down that had always piqued your interest as a teenager. You and Osamu had promised to go there together when you were younger, both of you making up silly theories about what lied beyond the doors.

You chuckled into your drink as you remembered the conversations and compared them to reality.

“I wonder if it’s some kinky strip club.” Osamu smirked, “Ya know, like with ropes and handcuffs and stuff?”

“Do those exist? Strip clubs just for stuff like that?” You squeezed his hand and jumped up on to the sidewalk.

“I dunno. Anything’s possible. Better than your theory.” He teased. “An illegal animal sanctuary? Where’d ya even come up with that one?”

“Hear me out! I bet there’s some old man who has like, 17 tigers, an alligator, and a polar bear. Nowhere to keep them.” You stopped at the crosswalk, grabbing his cheeks so he looked straight at you. His eyes were wide with amusement and a massive grin was plastered across his face. “Picture it, ‘Samu. Really think. Can you see it? He probably lives there and just takes care of his exotic animals in secret.”

“Right.” He snorted, “And how do you explain the customers?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever actually seen anyone enter or leave that building?”

“Well, I-“ He stopped, pausing to think for a moment. “Ya know what? No. I haven’t.”

You tugged him into the crosswalk when the light changed and marched away proudly. “Exactly. Point proven. It’s a front.”

The two of you spent the rest of your walk home from school that day laughing and debating what kinds of animals the theoretical old man was hiding in the fake bar.

Osamu’s laugh was something you’d heard many times, but never gotten tired of. His laugh was infectious; deep and loud and right from his chest. A laugh that would cause anyone to smile just from being around it.

A laugh that you recognized the moment you heard it.

You spun around on the bar stool, drink still in hand, in complete disbelief as the man who you were just thinking about was practically summoned in front of you. What a coincidence - you made a mental note to call your old roommate and tell her that her manifestation theories might not be bogus after all.

“Ain’t that somethin’,” Osamu whistled, taking off his hat to reveal his natural hair colour and giving you a playful nudge. “Didn’t know I’d run into ya here.”

“You didn’t?” You smiled.

“Had no clue.”

You pulled out your phone, showing him your most recent social media post. It was a photo of your drink, the location tagged with a passive caption about returning home.

“You didn’t see this?” You snorted when he shook his head no.

“Osamu Miya liked your post. Explain that.” You pointed directly at your most recent notification, showing that Osamu had definitely seen it 20 minutes prior.

“Hackers. Gotta be.” You felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you as you indulged in his sarcastic banter. “‘Cuz it’s clearly a coincidence that I just happened to show up to the same shitty bar on a certain Tuesday night.”

“You’re such a fuck.” You laughed, “Be serious.”

“Obviously I knew.” He rolled his eyes playfully and waved down a waitress. “Just wasn’t sure if you were gonna talk to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I talk to you?” You took a sip of your drink and watched him as he ordered his own. The way he carried himself was different. Subtle, but different. Confident and unapologetically himself.

He shrugged. “Just didn’t think you wanted to. I never heard from ya after you left.”

You blinked at him. “I kinda thought that’s what you wanted. That’s why I never reached out.”

“Why would I want that?” He thanked the waitress and took a sip of his drink the moment she handed it to him.

“I dunno. I just assumed since you didn’t say anything to me after I left.”

“So you’re tellin’ me we didn’t talk because we both thought the other didn’t want to?” Osamu’s question wasn’t really even directed to you, if anything, he was talking out loud to himself.

You were the first to crack up. “I guess so.”

“Hah.” He chuckled, “How stupid is that?”

“…Pretty stupid.”

He shook his head, smiling and silently cursing himself for allowing a little breakup and a few hours distance ruin the best relationship with someone he’d ever had, dating or not.

“Well, whatever. We’re here now. Wanna hang out?”

You almost choked on your drink. You weren’t expecting to see Osamu at all, let alone expecting to be hanging out with him on your first day back after four years of radio silence.

But you didn’t even think twice.

“Of course I do.”

The two of you picked up where you left off and it was as if you’d never even gone away. The connection was instant.

“You dyed your hair brown.” You smiled, reaching up and ruffling it in between your fingers. “It looks good.”

“I’d be worried if it didn’t.” He smiled wide but got lost in your gaze for a few seconds, studying your expression carefully. He took a careful look at you while sipping his drink. “You look good. Every bit of ya.”

“Thanks, ‘Samu.” You felt your cheeks get warm and turned away. A feeling you hadn’t experienced since high school.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

Before you could answer, Osamu set some cash on the bar and grabbed your hand. Again, it was familiar, but felt different. Stronger. Bigger. His hand completely engulfed yours and you wondered if he knew how tight he was holding you.

The two of you walked down the road for a few minutes, silently, soaking in the past two hours spent catching up with each other.

He stopped in front of a building a few blocks down, nodding up at it so you’d take a look. You knew instantly where you were.

“I still can’t believe you actually did it.” You looked back and forth from his proud stance to the large sign above the door reading “Onigiri Miya”.

“Let me show ya inside.”

He took you around the back, unlocking the door and flicking on the lights as he came in. The light was warm and the restaurant was inviting. Warm, inviting, comfortable… everything Osamu had always been.

“It’s so cozy in here.” You ran your hand across the clean countertop. As you paced through the kitchen, you walked around the barrier separating the staff area from the main dining room. “Reminds me of your Mom’s house in here.”

“In a good way, right?” He followed closely behind, not wanting to interrupt your first impression too much.

“Of course.” You turned around, beaming a smile at him. “I always loved coming over. You know that.”

He nodded. “Guess I’ll have to have ya over again sometime. I’m sure Ma would love to see you.”

“I’d love to see her, too.” You picked up and put down all of the little trinkets and decorations Osamu had laid out in his restaurant. A small MSBY mascot bobble head, various culinary contest awards, cute little stickers with the restaurant logo, and a stuffed alligator eating a mini onigiri.

“Hm.” You hummed, picking up the alligator. “Now all you’re missing is 17 tigers and a polar bear.”

Osamu blinked at you.

“Sorry.” You laughed awkwardly, “You must not remember. It’s nothing-“

“That’s the exact reason I have that.” He smiled, walking over and taking the alligator from you. “I had it handmade. Even named it after ya.”

“Shut up.”

“M’serious.” Osamu’s confident demeanour almost disappeared as he appeared bashful for just a moment. A small moment, but you still saw it.

Osamu ended up pouring you a drink while you continued to talk. He leaned over the counter as you sat at the bar opposite of him, your faces only a few inches apart.

“I still can’t believe you remembered that.” You said quietly before taking a sip.

“Of course I remembered it. I couldn’t forget the silly shit you say even if I wanted to.” He teased, “Plus, I had to walk by that place every day after you left. Made me think of ya every time.”

“Silly shit, huh?” You raised an eyebrow, “You’re the one who thought it was a strip club.”

Osamu blinked at you. “That’s much more believable than being an old man’s exotic animal sanctuary.”

“Okay, okay, fine!” You didn’t realize how stupid the conversation was until he said it like that. The two of you broke into a fit of laughter just like you used to.

You looked at Osamu, the top of his cheeks squishing just under his eyes, loud, deep laughs filling the room and suddenly you’d never felt such an overwhelming feeling of… home.

Osamu looked back at you. His ash-coloured eyes studied your expression.

“Hey, do ya need a job?”

You hadn’t been home long, so you’d barely even thought of that. You had planned to take things a day at a time and try to find a career with your education, but your degree was hard to find employment with right away. Opportunities and internships were there, but there was no way you’d be getting an actual, paying job right away.

“…Yes?”

“Wanna work here?” He leaned in closer, “I don’t go around offerin’ just anyone a job at my high class establishment, ya know.”

“Something with the way you said that makes me feel like this is a joke.” You smirked.

“I’m just foolin’ around. I do need someone though. Wanna try it, at least? Tomorrow for dinner? I’ll show ya what it’s all about.”

You agreed. If anything, you wanted to see how Osamu ran his restaurant.

——— ♡ ———

The next evening, you entered through the back door just like he’d told you to.

“Osamu?” You called, immediately met with a response to come in the kitchen.

“Sorry, darlin’, couldn’t meet ya at the door. Doing prep for tonight.” He gestured down to the cutting board in front of him, “Wanna try?”

You quickly put down your things and washed your hands. When you took the knife from Osamu’s hand, he hesitated for a moment before giving it to you.

“It’s sharp.”

“I know.”

“You gotta be careful. It’s a real chef’s knife.”

“I know.”

“Go for it, then.”

You held your breath before getting to work, chopping up the onions quickly and stopping when you felt a hand on top of yours. Osamu was directly behind you, towering over you and pressing his chest into your back.

“‘Samu-“

“You’re gonna slice your hand off if ya keep cutting like that.” He muttered. You could feel the vibration of his low voice and were suddenly hyper-aware of the current situation.

“What’s wrong with my technique?” You huffed.

“You don’t have any technique.” Osamu snorted, “Don’t ya remember when I taught ya like… a million years ago?”

“I do remember you teaching me.” You leaned back into him, “I also remember you never letting me prepare or cook any food ever again after that day. So I could never practice my new skill.”

Osamu hummed in amusement. “Not even in college?”

You spun around, Osamu set the knife down safely on the table but caged you in with his arms. He looked down at you with a smirk. “Hm?”

“I’ll have you know, I didn’t cook a single time in college.” You declared. “You’d know that if you’d talked to me.”

Osamu sighed, hanging his head down on your shoulder. “We’ve already gone over this.”

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing you.”

He lifted his head back up, only a few inches from your face. You felt like the breath was taken directly out of your lungs when all you could think about was kissing him. You wanted to reach out and touch his muscular arms just for him to get greedy and grab you wherever he wanted.

“Miya-san?”

You froze, both of you wide eyed in surprise at the sound of a much younger voice. A young man, most likely freshly graduated from high school, stood beside the two of you as you remained in the compromising position.

Osamu pulled back, and both of you stood up straight.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt-“

“It’s okay, ya didn’t interrupt.”

He did, you thought, but you were silently thankful for that. Every ounce of self control that remained was about to fly out the window had you stayed like that for even a few seconds more.

His small group of employees started to file in and prepare the restaurant further for dinner. You retreated to Osamu’s office and laid down on the couch.

Osamu would have a couch in his office.

You listened as Osamu instructed his team. Taught the younger staff how to tune their skills, taking the time to show them with nothing but patience and positivity. The same comforting presence he always had.

You missed that.

You missed him.

“Hey.” Osamu walked into his office and shut the door behind him. “Finished prep, sorry it got a bit crazy. Didn’t realize we were so close to workin’ hours, thought we would’ve had more time before everyone else got in.”

“It’s fine.” You shook your head, “No need to apologize. It’s really cool seeing you in your element.”

“Ya think?” He couldn’t hide his grin. He stood in front of you, leaning back slightly with his hands on his desk behind him. “I like workin’ here.”

“Well, that’s good. I’d hope so.”

Osamu agreed with a chuckle and sat down next to you.

“Can I tell ya somethin’?”

He sat with his arm around back of the couch, which was technically around you, now. You looked up at him and nodded silently.

“I, uh-“ He shook his head, it was clear he was trying to say something but it was difficult. “I really missed ya.”

“I missed you too-“

“No, like…” He sighed, “I really… really missed ya. I tried goin’ on dates with other women. Didn’t get along with any of ‘em. I always compared ‘em to you. I waited for you to finish school, to see if you’d come back home, and you did. It felt like a sign or somethin’. So when I saw you at the bar last night,” He paused, “Totally, completely coincidentally, I may add.”

His serious tone turned lighter as you smiled at his words.

“I just had to talk to ya. And now that I did, it feels like when we were kids, ya know? Just the way that I always wanted you around. Wanted to spend time with ya, hell, you have no idea how badly I just wanted to kiss ya when we were in the kitchen earlier-“

“‘Samu.”

“I don’t even know why I let our breakup happen in the first place. Usually I would’ve just said we could work through it. But I guess I wanted ya to grow on your own, too. To not have me encourage ya every step of the way. Not that I don’t like to do that, but I wanted to show ya that you don’t need me either. That you’re incredible and strong all on your own.”

“Osamu.”

“But then I realized I didn’t have to do that. We didn’t have to break up for us to grow into who we are on our own. By then it was too late, though. But you just looked so happy. I never wanted to mess with that. So I didn’t bother ya, and now that I’m lookin’ at ya as an adult I’m just so fuckin’ proud of ya, of all of your accomplishments and the way you carry yourself. You’re just-“

“Osamu.”

“Yeah?”

You reached up and wiped a single tear drop falling down his cheek.

“You’re crying.”

“Oh, shit.” He turned away, wiping his eyes quickly and looking back at you. “I’m sorry. Man, I just started pourin’ my heart out to ya and couldn’t stop.”

“It’s okay.” You leaned in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You felt him let out a heavy exhale as he pulled you on top of his lap and right against him.

“I missed ya.” He sighed, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “So much. Fuck.”

You tried to respond but you were choked up. You hadn’t realized you were crying, either.

He lifted his head up and looked directly at you. Osamu’s smile was kind, his expression vulnerable and it warmed your heart just looking at him.

“I missed you, too.” You said quietly.

“Really?”

“Yes, really!” You pulled back, planting the palms of your hands on his chest. “You have no idea how much I missed you, ‘Samu. Every day I waited for you to call me. But I thought you didn’t want to. So I finally accepted it and tried to move on. But like you said, I couldn’t actually do that. Nobody compares to you.”

Osamu hummed in agreement, resting his hands comfortably on your hips.

“It’s nice to hear ya say that.”

“Speaking of that,” You smirked, “Did I hear you say you wanted to kiss me in the kitchen?”

“Oh, yeah, you did.” He blinked up at you, absolutely no hesitation in his response. “I wanted to real bad.”

Your last strand of self control snapped the moment you heard those words. You leaned down, pressing your lips to his and instinctively tangling your fingers in his hair.

His voice rumbled low in his throat as he wrapped an arm around your lower back, pulling you against him as tight as possible while he stood up.

“Osamu!” You giggled, wrapping your legs around him. “Don’t-“

“I won’t drop ya, baby.” He assured you, pressing his lips back to yours. The sweet name of endearment made your heart melt and all you could think about in that moment was him. “Not now, not ever. Never again. You’re stuck with me.”

———

AN: Thanks so much for reading! I didn’t proofread this more than once, so please excuse any mistakes. I wrote this two years ago and forgot how much I loved it. God, timeskip Osamu is such a husband. ♡

#haikyuu x reader #miya osamu fluff #osamu miya angst #osamu scenarios #osamu #miya #miya osamu x you #osamu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #miya osamu x reader #timeskip osamu #haikyuu time skip #onigiri miya #osamu fluff

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Your true colors - (4/7) Green"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a message for you from the color green, the fourth of the 7 rainbow's colors. in this serie of readings about the rainbow's colors, I will try to channel about your true colors, so to help you look inside and see your most beautiful self, appreciate yourself more and hopefully provide some type of guidance if necessary. as cindy lauper would say: "your true colors are beautiful like a rainbow", so let's look at them and hear what they have to say to you and how they (you) can help you look at things in a more positive way.

green is the color of healing, balance, peace, abundance, hope, money, growth, love, connection, surrender, trust (heart chakra)... in this reading, I'll try to analyze this side of your character.

you can find the other colors' readings in the pacs list in my pinned post

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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pile 1

It feels like you've been waiting for something for a lot of time now. It could be love or connections, it could be a good stable career (and income), it could be also "feeling healed". About this last point let me add this reminder that healing is about finding a way to react in an healthier way to your possible triggers (yes, there may still be some here and there, but it doesn't mean you're not succeeding at what you do: pay attention to how differently you are reacting compared with the past. Maybe you are not spiralling so easily as before or maybe you're recognizing what's behind your trigger: that's a sign you're doing your healing right. I know it feels like it's never ending, but the moment you'll find a balance and not let yourself get discouraged by each fallback you may encounter, that's the moment you'll understand for real what I -well, many psychologists- mean. Take it slow). I feel you may even get envious of others having (apparently/easily) what you are trying so hard to obtain but seem to not be able to. You may be comparing yourself with others too (please, don't... you're your own type of special, don't lose sight of this truth). I think your heart is also suggesting you to calm down and wait, to not be too impatient. You are a very loving, kind, gentle soul, and ofc you (even unconsciously) feel like you deserve something back (you indeed do!!) but... it seems you're getting the absence of positive immediate signs (or even supposedly slightly negative signs -which may be just tests or corrections in your journey) as a huge NO from Universe. Tbh the more you keep asking for a sign, for something tangible, the more you are giving space for uncertainty and self doubts and ruining your manifestations (not saying it's not human at all, we all go there and it's okay. But try to stay as much as you can connected with your positivity, without avoiding paying attention to the negative side of your life: nobody wants toxic positivity ofc). I think you are asked to give yourself time and space. To enjoy the show, somehow (even if yes, it may sound bittersweet at first but it's more like... "let things flow/go", trust).

You may also not be giving your heart the right time and space to heal something. Or you're not paying real attention to something: maybe you feel you have healed your problem and got over it but it's not entirely so: you may even get dreams or other impulses from your mind about this. Our minds tend to recall what our hearts haven't healed fully, so if you think/dream about someone or something and it makes you overwhelmed or nervous/scared, chances are you need to still work on that a little more to get over it and leave space for new and better things to come. You are someone who rarely gives up but ofc, as every human does, sometimes you may feel disheartened. We all have dark periods when things get harder: when these happens try to reconnect with your heart (and take care of it, maybe putting your hands over your heart chakra and sending it love could help you too). You are such an hopeful and positive (maybe with others more than yourself... try to include yourself too) and also an abundant person, you just need to remind this yourself and put this type of energy into the Universe, so that the magic can happen and you can get more. Keep believing in your abilities and in yourself. And that you deserve so much more. I think the Universe is giving you some kind of feeling in this sense, like your intuition may be telling you to not give up to the dark but to just be patient a bit more (despite those darker days) cause bigger things are being prepared just for you, so yeah trust it. Trust yourself and your heart. You're not asking for too much anyway, but big things and changes (like going the opposite way from what you're used, like even changing your mental pattern) require a bigger amount of time. I think for many of you it's about love (even self love tbh or any other type of connection you have experienced: romantic, friendship, family...), maybe you need to heal/grieve and get over a past connection (situation/feeling) to get a new and possibly better one. I just read this by chance and its fitting so I guess it's for you: "Give yourself the permission to heal the same thing more than once". Allow yourself the same kindness and time respect you allow others.

song: hypnotized | purple disco machine, sophie and the giants (highly recommend reading the lyrics)

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pile 2

Your pile is giving me a hard time (luv ya). It feels like you don't want to let me in... maybe you tend to close off to others in general. I think you may have been through something big in the past (abandonment wounds more likely, someone left you out of the blue or you couldn't really trust people being there for you to help you when you needed them) and now you simply fear letting people in (it'd mean let them hurt you once again ofc). Some bits of you though may be starting to occasionally pour out of you, some even without control (your inner child wants more attention prolly)... maybe you are unconsciously trying to still be in touch with others, to connect more (we're humans, we need connections). I bet you feel alone these days, and I am sorry. Probably your heart still wants you to let down your walls or build some window, so to see if it's worthy to let someone in... maybe. I guess in love (any type) we have to take the risk of trusting others, of being vulnerable and letting them in. I think love (again any type) is our conscious choice to give someone else the power to hurt us... but still it's up on us to stop that hurt when we start to feel it. And talk about it before it gets too much, do not pretend things are always fine and you can take it all. There's such an overflow of emotions from you... You are abundant of love (or miss it so bad, no in between), you cannot keep it inside anymore and you're searching for something or someone to be able to take it all in and free you from that abundance (and give you back as much too and stop that lack, despite many of you mostly need to give). But maybe you fear being rejected and accused of being too much or hard to handle. Beware that yes, not everyone may be ready to be overwhelmed by your love or requests (as you may ofc not be ready to give it to someone since day 1), so just take things slow and talk. Remember also that some people may not be able to handle their own emotions to start with, so when you pour yours onto them, they may get overwhelmed and project onto you their fears and accuse you of being what you're not: "too much". We're all different, but it doesn't mean it cannot work (at least not always: it depends on the specific people involved). What I feel like telling you is... trust your intuition: it will guide you to the right people and places. You don't have to do it all alone, you don't have to stay alone... just take time to get used again with sharing and slowly letting down your walls. Not everyone is here to hurt you, and you can trust yourself in being able to recognize such people anyway and close them off, while letting others who deserve in. You're really full of love anyway... I don't have any other way to explain this. Your energy is so lovely. Maybe get a plant or a puppy, start pouring your love onto them, they will ofc receive it all happily and give back in their own way (a plant growing healthily and giving you flowers or even fruits, if applies, or having pretty shining green leaves is its way to tell you "thank you, ily").

This said, I do think you need to meditate and take some time to talk with your heart, decide what you can compromise on and what not (at least in the beginning, when starting reconnecting with others) and things like that. To meet the type of people you want to meet and deserve to meet, and get what you want, you need to be more open and even start going to search for them also in places you may not be considering atm (be the first one starting a convo if you want; don't always wait for others: maybe you both are waiting for the other so... try. If they "reject" you, it doesn't have to be you the cause of this rejection. It could be their "problem" too or that we're simply not made for everyone as not everyone is made for us). We can find different people in different places, even where we would never go (sometimes we are convinced we don't like something/someone but if we gave ourself the chance to try, we may even change our mind). Trust your guts for this, let yourself be called even by things you probably would have never considered joining or doing before (to get a different result, we need to do something different and it works for people too: not just in the way we act but also in the places we go to, a change can be needed and bring success). Idk why I am suddenly thinking about work with you. Maybe you want to change job or are moving somewhere else? That's good: changing, meeting different people and/or cultures may totally help you get a different approach in your life too and realize better your needs and that not everyone is the same ever in the world (you don't have to go the distance to see this btw). Totally give it a shot (confirmation, if you need: a change -probably even just in behaviour/routine or anything- may bring you wealth too not just in connections but money as well). My nose is itching so bad with you, probably you'll get some important download about what you'll have to do soon to get what you want, maybe even a dream or sign or something. You may be feeling lost so... yeah, this download will help you in your journey. Just let yourself get out more, even physically out of your home not just out of your own cage you have buildt inside around your heart. Let yourself be seen and found. You can survive anything, you have yourself, be sure of that. And anyway, you won't be alone forever. You can change this, your people are waiting for you (I literally had to check the time like yeah... it's time, come on!). Ofc keep trying to heal the reasons behind whatever is that is blocking you or caused you to cage yourself. Maybe for some of you healing will happen or improve when you'll meet other people, so it's fine if for now you don't feel like going too deep. It will happen at the right time, trust your own guidance.

song: basic instinct | the acid; running mate | lemolo (got called by both, so yeah.. you're lucky pile 2 ;) )

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pile 3

You are someone not scared of putting in hard work in order to get something you want. And I think you also have a very good mind that supports you in taking the right decisions or at least not giving up at the first obstacles or difficulties. I think you know it's okay to be a learner at first (and anyway, everyone is, and your heart knows this well) because you know you can see your results whenever you put effort into what you do. Things come easily to you, especially when you create this magic connection and balance between your light, heart/love and soul. When you connect really with your core center, and realize you are working for something you really deeply want and desire, you know you can do anything and go through anything. You change, adapt, grow, and always get to see abundance/success or attract it in your life. Or get to its side. Somehow though, and that's normal, at times you may get tired of always having to put in so much effort in all you do. At times you may be wondering if you're doing it all right and for something, or if you're actually being seen. I do think you are not being seen and appreciated that often to be honest, and this can cause you some self worth doubts. Maybe the people around you do not really give you feedback as much as you'd like... maybe you had to grow up and always had to work hard and get many positive results in order to get praised by your caregivers or others (contrary to others around you: you felt you had to put in a double effort to get the same kind of appreciation -it wasn't you the "wrong" one anyway, js), and this habit stayed with you. It helped you feel included and appreciated. You probably wear/wore masks sometimes or with someone and you kinda lost yourself in the process (or cause you focused mostly on your material life for long). But your heart knows that's not what is all about. You don't have to do anything in particular to be loved and appreciated, you only need to be you. I also think you need to work only on what you really want for yourself (mentioned above), not for others: you're caring and nice but, you're here for you and if you have to overwork to be seen... that's not good. Ofc to do this, you need to start a journey of getting back to yourself and knowing yourself again. You may have people pleasing tendencies and need to do what others require you to do, but that's not always what you want to do too. Try choosing with your heart and set up some boundaries. Protect your purity and energy from anything evil that may try to get your best and use your abilities and talents only to your own personal advantage. I think your career/grades will get better the moment you start doing this too (ofc, for those who can resonate).

Your heart is probably tired of not being acknowledged for who you really are, of being taken for granted... I feel like you may be thinking of giving up sometimes. Maybe you also had to be the responsible one since a young age, to almost parent your caregivers and they often came to you for support or you had to take decisions you didn't want to take. I perceive sadness around you and I'm very sorry. A heavy heart. Don't give up, please. Not yet. Ofc, take a break but don't give up entirely, especially if there's something you really want to do. Know you can always ask for support to others, even professional figures and you can take back what's yours and who you are. You can start again and start from yourself and who you really are. And you can even get away from whatever is hurting you if you need that. I do think you need peace most and foremost... You have worked too hard for too long, you felt in charge so many times and you did so much you didn't want to do. Now it's time to take a vacation (real or mental and emotional, at least) and relax your mind and heart. Heal your heart and then start your own personal journey. You have learned so much through these experiences, you know your worth and you know you can always make it and survive, so you know you're invincible. I don't have to be the one telling you for sure. ;) Just don't give up now even if your heart feels so tired. Better connections, people that will see you for who you are for real and appreciate you, will come in your life. Find yourself again. I do think there's a real lot in front of you to still be uncovered, and maybe also inside of you. A huge new (balanced) world you'll love and that will bring you so much more. You're still under construction, so keep building yourself up. I am seeing a cocoon/embryo, so yeah, it pairs with the green lemon in your photo too.

song: you are enough | sleeping at last

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card tarot #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card #pac reading #divination #clairs readings #psychic readings #free tarot reading #tarot readings #pac tarot #tarotblr #intuitive readings #intuition #tarot reading

[memoriapraeteritorumbonorum]

Honey, I love your hc! OK I need another set of the Noticing You've Picked Up Their Mannerisms but with Tyelko and also Glorfindel! Please and also thank you in advance! 💚💚💚

Noticing you’ve picked up their mannerisms - Celegorm and Glorfindel

Author’s note: A bit late but here it is! Enjoy queen💅🏽

-

Celegorm

Ever since he was little, Tyelkormo has had the habit of persuading others with a specific move whenever he was about to do something he wasn’t supposed to be doing

He told you about it once, and you had burst out laughing because you simply couldn’t imagine him acting this way, since he was usually the one receiving the compliments — why would he need to turn it around?

It had all started as a joke, when he had asked his mother permission to follow his older brothers into the woods past sunset to go bird watching

Nerdanel, however, had denied her then youngest child and that was when little Tyelko had found out that his silver tongue could get him anywhere

You didn’t believe him when he had told you about this sneaky tactic of his, but then remembered how many times he had persuaded you to do certain things or turn a blind eye on what he was doing

Usually, he would have no problem with you doing your thing but today, you really wanted to practice sparring with the Ambarussar who were insisting you brought their brother’s precious longsword

You knew he wouldn’t allow it, since that weapon meant a lot to him it’s basically an extension of his ego but you decided to give it a try

So when you enter his room, ask nicely and end up getting rejected, you gently hug him from behind and tell him how much you would appreciate it, how he had such a generous heart and how his sword would be the only worthy weapon yadayadayada

Basically you’re sucking up to him like a champ, touch his biceps while you’re at it

Someone with an ego like that simply can’t resist a beautiful person complimenting him right?

“I suppose I could- hey!” He frees himself from your sensual grip and stares at you with wide eyes, a surprised, playful grin spreading across his face seconds later “I don’t believe it, using my own evil ways against me,” he muses in disbelief, feline eyes twinkling mischievously

You feign shock, mockingly placing your hand on your heart “Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

A for effort queen

Nevertheless, Tyelko is impressed. You almost tricked him! That deserves a reward

But now he’s staring at you through the window, hawk eyes watching his precious sword in your nervous hands — performance anxiety incoming

And be prepared to be charmed when you return

Glorfindel

This one is bittersweet

When he first returned from the Halls of Mandos, Glorfindel wore his hair in a single braid, never once letting it down like he used to ages ago

You know it was because of his last battle, and you also know that it had taken him a long time to overcome the habit of putting his golden tresses into a braid whenever he was about to leave his chambers

It just made him feel safer

You’ve seen him do it countless times. You’d wake up to him sitting on the edge of the bed, hands quickly working to weave a specific pattern into the braid

You hardly put your hair up, the sole reason being you preferred it down

But today was rather windy and you’ve been running around with hair blowing all over the place, blocking your view, tangling itself in your jewellery and tickling your face and neck constantly

Glorfindel is at your side, helping you pick some seasonal herbs for you to dry and press later this evening when a lock of your hair blows in his face, making him scrunch his nose

You laugh, gently pulling it back and begin to complain about the windy weather while your hands simultaneously start gathering the hair and braiding it in his unique style

He’s stunned and just watches you without really listening to you talk — that braid looks awfully familiar

The way your hands subconsciously move just like his astounds him

“Wait, Y/N, let me see,” he softly turns your head to the side to admire the intricate pattern worked into your braid, you literally copied each and every one of his techniques flawlessly

For some reason he feels emotional, knowing that this braid emerged from a deep wound within, and now his beloved is wearing it with a smile on their face

In a way, he feels proud to have had such an impact on you — a person who never really braids their hair in the first place

“What is it?” you ask before connecting the dots “I didn’t realize!” Your hand flies up to touch the back only to be met with his already caressing your hair in awe

“It looks beautiful on you,” he sighs, gently laying the braid across your shoulder

In that moment, Glorfindel feels closer to you than ever

He sees your love in that braid, his story coming into contact with yours and creating something wonderful

You make a mental note to wear your hair like this more often just to see the wistful expression on his face

He doesn’t talk about his last battle very often, but you feel like you got a bit closer to him today

And he feels it too, he’s already contemplating how to share more of his past with you, step by step :)

#celegorm #celegorm imagine #celegorm headcanon #celegorm x reader #tyelkormo #glorfindel #glorfindel imagine #glorfindel headcanon #glorfindel x reader #request

[peachyjinx]

Watching the finale again and his expression at the end...

Spoilers->

This is not the face of someone who's devastated. He looks self assured and even has that little smirk! Honestly, when I first watched the ending I was way more sad for Mobius than Loki 😂.

I know a lot of people are devastated about him being alone. But- what if this is like one of those things in life, where the thing you fight most against is what you truly need? He gets to feel all of those universes and watch people love and be happy, and he can protect those he loves.

I know it's bittersweet, but he looks content to me, and that makes me happy 💚

Preparing for the incoming anons yelling at me 😅

@glitchquake @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @holdmytesseract @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @ozymdias @gruftiela @muddyorbsblr @muddyorbs @thedistractedagglomeration @mischief2sarawr @wheredafandomat @mochie85 @liminalpebble @goblingirlsarah @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @superficialdomina @november-rayne @liminalpebble @kikster606 ++

#loki spoilers #loki finale #loki season 2 #loki

[sin-djarin]

hold harder

Pairing: Tim Rockford x f!reader

Rating: Explicit. MDNI. This blog and its contents are 18+.

Word Count: 4.8k (jfc)

Summary: Tim hates his Christmas party. He also forgets his Secret Santa gift. The holsters stay on despite it all.

Warnings: Established relationship, unprotected PinV (wrap it up, please!), oral sex (m! receiving), creampie, mention of food, Tim Rockford's gunholsters, reader wears a dress but no other physical descriptors, no use of y/n, possible weird phone formatting issues and typos.

A/N: I don't know anymore. The Rockpool is deceptively deep.

More Tim:

hold tight ¦ steep is the mountain

You didn’t need to look at the calendar to tell you what day it was. Tim wore it on his face. The deep seated reluctance to stay late after work and attend the station’s annual Christmas party began to eat away at him from the second he rolled over and slammed his fist on the alarm clock to stop its blaring.

During breakfast, he aggressively tore his bagel from his teeth, scattering the seeds and crumbs in all directions across the island. The knot in his striped tie seemed to cause him extra annoyance as he struggled to get it to sit correctly. The furrow in his brow grew deeper as it resisted every tug and pull of his fingers.

As the morning passed, you thought that the only reason the dread didn't gnaw him to the bone was he when sat, slumped on the edge of your bed, lost in observing you getting ready to start your day. The other 364 days of the year, your skincare routine was an enigma but this morning, it captivated him. He was so engrossed in watching you apply a thin layer of moisturizer, he forgot to check his watch. The one that stopped telling him the time and had started to count down the moments to his own annual nightmare for the first time since he woke up.

Tim's eyes followed you around the room, watching as you got dressed in front of the mirror. He studied every item of clothing you put on, taking note of the order in which you put on each garment. You smiled at his reflection, his head tilting as your body moved and swayed to finish getting ready, carefully absorbing every detail as if like this might be the Christmas party he never came back from. It was only when you asked for help to zip up your dress that he appeared to come hurtling back to Earth. With a heavy sigh, he pulled it up with a huff before resting his head on your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your skin.

Normally, he’s turning the handle to his office while you’re turning over in bed to chase any of his lingering body heat that he might have left between the sheets. But today, he hung around long enough that you practically had to drag him out of the house and hand him his raincoat like a kid on their first day of school.

“It'll be fine,” you told him, your voice filled with conviction. “Stay for an hour and then you can come home.” You assured him with a hand on his chest in the driveway.

Tim rolled his eyes before pressing a bittersweet kiss to your lips that lasted longer than it normally does and ended with a huff from him before you both took separate cars and left for work.

Meanwhile, your own day was far from idyllic. Back to back meetings with the broken promise of lunch after each one and the pressures of end of year reports mounted, leaving hardly any time for a decent break. All of it made you begn to think that maybe Tim had the right idea, that the two of you should have just stayed home and he could have curled himself around you like a city wall under the blankets. Regardless, you carried on, and you were never happier to see a clock read 5.30.

-

Sitting in the evening traffic, your stomach rumbles with hunger and you can almost hear last night’s leftover chili calling your name from the top shelf of the refrigerator. But an incoming call from Tim soon drowns that out.

“Hey! Having fun yet?”

“Getting there. Listen, I think I left my Secret Santa gift in your car.” his voice echoes through the car speakers just as you come to a stop at a red light.

“Tim-”

“I know, I know. Could you bring it down here? Please?” he pleads, a rising sense of urgency runs off his words.

You close your eyes and sigh before answering.

“Alright. Hold tight.” you agree, looking over at the shiny metallic gift bag sitting in the door well on the passenger side.

“Thank you.”

After a quick U-turn, the journey to the station is short. The parking lot is packed compared to Thanksgiving. It’s only when you turn off the engine that the weight of the words that tumbled from your lips land on you all at once.

Suddenly you’re transported back to his office. You can almost feel the texture of the leather holsters against your palms again, the imprint of his lips on your neck and the scratch of his mustache against your exposed skin. The same warmth he left simmering in your belly on Thanksgiving returns in full force.

Your thumb taps a rhythm on the steering wheel while you stare at Tim’s forgotten gift. Whether he truly forgot it is up for debate. He’s normally the one to remind you about everything - anniversaries, deadlines, holidays, all of them, meticulously mapped out ahead of time. But he didn't pencil thanksgiving into his diary and the idea that you’ve left him reeling from it only stokes the flames of the fire inside you.

A grin creeps across your lips and without a second thought, you’re lifting your dress and hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear and slipping them down your legs.

Exiting the car, the cool night air hits your warm core as you put on your jacket, shoving Patricia’s secret santa gift from Tim in one pocket and your underwear in another.

A uniformed officer at reception points you in the direction of the cafeteria. The corridors that lead there are lined with decades worth of official photographs of various units. Jaded pieces of tinsel now hang above each frame.

The chorus of carol music gets louder as you reach the end of the hallway and when you step into the kitchen, it’s teeming. Your nostrils are filled with the pungent smell of cinnamon and lacklustre coffee. The tables have been pushed towards the walls and tupperware containers and trays of homemade baked goods and casseroles are laid out in abundance. Tim’s colleague’s are gathered in small crowds, from fresh-faced rookies to plain clothed veterans sporting reindeer antlers, all of them eating from decorative paper plates and making conversations with their mouths full.

Then your jaw drops. You expect to see the holsters strapped around his shoulders but what you don’t expect to see is the Santa hat slightly askew atop his head. When he peers up from the coffee cup that’s probably nothing more than a prop to occupy his fidgeting hands, he gives you a wave and you bite your lip to stop a smirk spreading across your face at the surreal sight. He continues to nod at the person that’s speaking to him but you know that preoccupied expression; he’s not remotely interested in the words coming from the man’s mouth.

Once you’ve navigated through the small sea of people to Tim’s side, you discreetly take the bag from your pocket and place it with the rest of the wrapped boxes under the small bauble covered Christmas tree behind him. Tim's palm comes to rest on your lower back, his fingers hovering over the spot where your underwear were until moments ago.

“Pardon us, Nick.” Tim says to Nick and ushers you over to the spread of food, guiding you through the crowd. “Help yourself. Just don’t eat the potato salad.” he advises, taking a plate from the large stack and passing it to you.

You mull over your options between sweet and savory but ultimately you let your sweet tooth win and scoop up a piece of golden apple pie. It’s a far cry for the dinner you had in mind but it’s still something.

“Thanks for doing this. You saved my ass.” he tells you, watching closely as your lips close around the plastic fork.

“Fuck. This is good.” you exclaim, still chewing on a mouthful of decadent apple pie.

“Yeah, that’s…” he trails off, gazing at your tongue licking the sugary filling from your lips. He clears his throat before continuing, “Suzie’s. She makes it every-”

He’s cut off by the hand of a taller man landing on his holsters. He mumbles something into Tim’s ear and his brows knit together in response.

“I’ll be back in five minutes. Will you be okay here?” he asks you with a look of concern on his face.

You nod, satisfied with the delicious dessert filling your stomach and you watch him leave.

Although you’re surrounded by strangers, you don’t feel out of place amongst the seasonal cheer and laughter. The lights that are strung on the walls flicker in everyone's eyes and there’s a friendly atmosphere, almost homely. It's not the most exciting affair you've been to but can’t understand what exactly it is that Tim has against it. Maybe it's not the Christmas party after all and you've read this entire situation wrong.

Waiting for him to return, you wander the room. People smile as you pass with your plate in hand. You stop at the notice board. There are thank you cards and photos of retirement parties pinned amongst a slew of colorful posters for events in the community and sunbleached health and safety reminders.

After falling into a polite conversation with a stranger about your plans for Christmas and not how someone managed to talk Tim into wearing a Santa hat, she excuses herself to change the festive CD that’s skipping in a dated stereo in the corner. A look at the clock tells you he's been gone for twenty minutes. Your rising sense of curiosity and concern become too impossible to ignore and in her absence, you go in search of him.

Down the corridor, there’s light coming from behind the closed blind in his office. Your heartbeat drums a little faster in your chest at the familiarity of it, almost instinctively preparing you for whatever is on the other side of the wall. You knock on the door but no one answers. Taking your chances, you turn the doorknob.

To your surprise, Tim is not at his desk. Nor is he accompanied by any fellow detectives. Instead, he sits comfortably on a plush suede couch, alone, one that you swear wasn’t here during your last flying visit. Or perhaps it was, but your vision was too clouded by lust to notice it. He’s immersed in a file, absentmindedly chewing on the arm of his glasses. He barely looks up from the paper as you close the door behind you.

“Investigating Santa? Trying to get inside his head?” you taunt, unable to bite your tongue any longer.

“Funny.” he replies flatly, snatching the fluffy red and white hat from his head.

Compared to the cafeteria, his office is nearly silent. The only noises to be heard are your voices and the rustling of loose paper as he closes the file. You wander around his space, taking the time to appreciate the little details you missed the last time; a trashcan full of crumpled paper on the floor, a plaque with his name on the wall. Then you catch a glimpse of his desk and the not so distant debauched memory of it sends another lick of heat down your spine.

Behind the scene of your last seasonal liaison, a calendar is taped to a corkboard. Birthdays, dinners, meetings; they’re all written in red pen and organized. And he’s just proven you to be correct; he didn’t just forget.

“So,” you start, taking your jacket off and throwing it over his chair. “You redecorated.” you point to the couch, the tone of your voice light when it breaks the silence.

“Yeah. I finally got it moved down after Jody’s retirement.”

Despite his earlier reservations about staying late, he looks comfortable. His broad frame is nestled into the middle of the sand coloured cushions, legs spread wide and inviting. His eyes are locked on you, raking over your body from head to toe, the same way they did this morning as you stride towards him and he bends forward expectantly.

Standing in between his strong legs, you run your knuckles under his stubbled jawline, tilting his head upwards. Tim reaches out to roll the satin soft fabric of your dress between his thumb and index finger, and the small beam of light from the lamp beside him highlights the glint in his eyes.

“Now that I'm here,” you say, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you push him back to straddle his lap. “I'm working on a case of my own. Perhaps you could help me with my line of questioning? Detective.”

Tim's eyes narrow in confusion but relax again as his attention is drawn to your fingers that have begun to loosen the tail of his tie. With a gentle tug, the knot surrenders its hold and you pull it from under his collar, letting it fall free to his side before beginning your line of enquiry.

“I told you last night that your Secret Santa gift was in my car. Right?”

He watches, hardly blinking, as your fingers start to push the buttons of his white shirt through their holes. “You did.”

“But you didn't get it when you went to the garage?” You continue, revealing the ribbed tank top underneath, button by button.

“I didn't.”

“And you called me and asked me to bring it to you this evening?”

“I did.” Tim answers, his breathing becoming more ragged as he hangs on your words and the spaces in between them while you try to keep your composure at the fact his cock is throbbing beneath your thigh.

“Am I right to assume that you might have left it there on purpose? And that if you left me alone long enough that I'd try to come and find you? And maybe. Just maybe, you might want to relive certain events from thanksgiving?”

Tim pauses, considering his answer carefully. All of his features are relaxed but his pursed lips betray him and twitch as they try to hide that renegade grin you love.

Guilty.

After a sharp intake of breath he finally speaks. “I plead the fifth.”

But his answer doesn't serve him and when you open the last button of the shirt, your hands come to a stop on his belt buckle, right above where his cock is straining hard against his zip.

Shamelessly, Tim’s warm hands begin their exploration under your dress, gliding over the smooth skin of your thighs and moving upward towards your waist. Your pulse quickens knowing that when his fingertips seek out the underwear he witnessed you put on this morning, he won't find a fiber of evidence that they were ever there.

When his thumb finally brushes over your hips and they’re bare, his brown eyes darken and his lips part at the realization that he left you to mingle with his colleagues like this.

"Words come easy when you tell the truth, Tim. It’s a real shame, too. I was hoping you would cooperate with me." you sigh, feigning disappointment, as you attempt to distance yourself from him, pushing on his holster clad shoulders.

Tim cocks his head and a wry chuckle escapes him that etches the dimple deeper into his cheek.

"Ah. Don’t." he calmly warns, firmly pulling your hips downwards until you’re flush against his pelvis, allowing you to feel how undeniably hard he is under his black slacks. "It seems to me that I may have had an accomplice in this," he suggests. The deep resonance of his voice sets your nerve endings ablaze. "Because you, out there? Like this?” he leans forward, his full lips grazing against yours before continuing, “That’s criminal.”

Another rush of excitement courses through your veins that almost hinders your poised reply, “Well, I guess we’re both guilty.” you whisper against his wet mouth, draping one of your arms around his shoulders while the fingers of your free hand twist into the textured curls at the nape of his neck.

One of Tim’s hands drift downwards, brushing over your lower stomach and between your legs to part your folds, coating his fingers in your arousal that’s been pooling ever since you turned the ignition off. His eyebrow arches upwards, delighted at how soaked you are.

“Partners in crime.” he purrs in a lower pitch, biting down gently on your bottom lip.

The husky timbre of his voice and the heat of his breath washing over your skin make you shift your weight and grind down on his clothed cock. The tip of his tongue teases your upper lip as you rock your hips, drawing a low groan from him when your fingers tug on the small strands of hair they’re entangled in.

He dips his head lower, incisors nipping at your chin as he writhes into your wetness - as desperate as you for friction. Slowly, he works his way down the column of your throat, his lips pressing open mouth kisses into the delicate skin, turning your attempts at breathing into tiny gasps for air.

“Did you lock the door?” he asks, tracing the arch of your neck with his wet lips as your head tips back.

“What…no.” you tell him truthfully. The thought of doing so never crossed your mind.

Tim leans back and your hands fall back to his belt buckle, the cool metal of it a stark contrast to your scorching skin. At the same time you pull the leather free from the first loop, a pair of voices pass by on the other side of the wall and a look of trepidation flashes on his face. He twists the whiskers below his swollen lip as their voices gradually fade away. This is risky. But it was risky at Thanksgiving.

And he’s still achingly hard under the now damp polyester.

As he weighs up his options, you raise up off him to settle between his legs once more and his eyes widen when you lower to your knees.

You place your finger over your lips, prompting him to be quiet and he shoots you another coy smirk as you undo the clasp and zip of his pants. He’s eager, raising his hips when you hook your fingers inside the waistband of his slacks and boxer briefs to peel them down his legs.

Your fingertips brush upwards along the tender skin of his inner thighs as you lower your head and a layer of goosebumps form in their wake. You meet his gaze under the glow of the lamp and there's a spark in his eye - he's like tinder ready to ignite. His only concern now is the image of you on your knees and the skill of your mouth.

Tim holds his breath as your hands travel over his pelvis, further towards where he’s wanted them since early morning. His fingers clutch to the upholstery beneath him, digging deeper at the first whisper of the heat of your breath meeting his cock.

Finally, you take him in your hand, and he breathes a shaky sigh of relief at the contact. Your thumb runs a slow circle over the thick head that glistens from he's been leaking and the muscles beneath the tanned skin of his thighs contract under your touch.

Your eyes flit upwards towards him again, and when your tongue runs a slow, long line up the underside of his length, his spine involuntarily arches off the couch.

"Fuck." he exhales deeply through puffed out cheeks but it falters in to a needy whine. "Mmm. Keep going. Please." he pleads, nostrils flaring to fill his lungs.

You repeat the movement, from the base to the tip until your lips envelop the crown. He heaves another satisfied sigh as the flat of your tongue runs back and forth over the sensitive slit.

Slowly, you take more of him, watching how his body responds - from the tiny flexes across the swell of his belly when you press your tongue against the base to how his Adams apple dances under the tanned skin of his throat when your lips seal around the tip as he melts into the pillows that support him. A gruff groan that sounds like it's risen up from the depths of his stomach escapes him as he hits the back of your throat.

Tim’s hand reaches for yours that rests at the apex of his hip. He interlocks his fingers with yours, marvelling at your lips masterfully moving around the girth of him in an even rhythm, hollowing out your cheeks to accommodate him.

The temperature radiating from his body seems to climb with every bob of your head, blanketing you both in a sweltering bubble of heat. Your tongue and lips work in unison that make his whimpers and groans hang in the air. Each one of their low bassy tones makes you grow more thankful that he forgot his gift but it also makes you ache for him further.

“Need to feel you.” he pants from above you, as if he read your own mind.

Pulling away from him, you take a second to feast your eyes on him. Sweat has begun to collect between his clavicles making the white cotton of his tank top and shirt stick to him like a second skin. The plains of his broad chest rise and fall rapidly, desperate to ease his breathing.

He takes your hand in his once more, coaxing you closer to crawl over him, positioning you back across his lap. That same devilish look plays on his face again, the same one you recall from thanksgiving when he realized that you were hungry for him. Any earlier apprehension he harbored has been abandoned. You search his eyes for the slightest hint of worry but it’s gone, replaced by unbridled lust. You think an entire unit could file into his office right this second and he’d still fuck you.

“Quiet.” he nods fervently and chases your mouth.

The kiss is feverish. His tongue swipes against yours, tasting himself on you, as he hurriedly hitches your dress higher around your waist.

He rubs the velvet head back and forth across your clit, still slick from your mouth and you manage to hold back a moan of your own. His hand moves to cradle your neck, drawing you closer to rest your forehead against his. Not once does he break eye contact as you slowly sink down around him, inch by inch. Once he bottoms out, his head falls back against the couch, swallowing hard as you begin to tentatively roll your hips.

Tim’s keen hands find your waist, guiding your hips to set a steady pace. The delicious stretch of him makes you reach out to grip the cushions, anything behind him to anchor yourself, but he takes your hands in his and gently moves them to his holsters.

“Tight. Remember?” he instructs, and it’s followed by that same roguish grin.

He keeps his hands wrapped around yours for a moment, until he’s confident that you do remember, before they move back to your thighs, clammy fingertips digging into the flesh of them.

The air becomes dense around you as you both find a tempo. The ever rising temperature of both your bodies, the urgency and the risk of it all is an intoxicating mix that makes it increasingly difficult for both of you to stay silent. Tim’s mouth is latching on to whatever exposed part of you it can find, licking and sucking anywhere to try and muffle his own sounds.

Regardless of the danger, you’re still Tim’s number one priority. His palms are quick to pick up on any trembling in your legs and the hitching of your breath when he hits that sweet spot so he can repeat it. He’s precise and it feels good, it always does but there’s something about this being so wrong that heightens everything.

Tim's hands leave your hips to wrap themselves around yours at his chest and they squeeze yours gently.

“Harder. Hold on a little bit harder for me.” he rasps.

He runs his thumb across his tongue before moving it down between your bodies to skillfully rub circles on your clit. Before you can make a sound, his mouth claims yours, devouring any sinful sound that threatens to escape from your lips. The ones he knows you’d make if you were at home - the same ones that you can’t thrill him with here.

The grip you have around the leather tightens further, hauling him closer as the pleasure intensifies inside you, shooting electricity through your veins. He shifts his hips, angling himself perfectly so that his length grazes your clit with every roll of his hips.

Both of you drown in each other's senses; the sight of Tim underneath you, pupils dilated and dazed, the supple leather flexing in your grasp and taste of your skin on his lips - all of it continues to build.

And that recognizable feeling starts to bloom in your belly. You arch your back into him, desperate to find the angle to drag his cock over the most sensitive spot just one more time. The beginnings of it send little shivers up your spine until it unfurls and it takes whatever remaining energy is left in your body to not release a cry that you’ve kept in your throat.

“There you go.” he encourages, his breath searing against your ear as he feels your walls pulse around him.

Large fingers splay across your back, cradling you as you as he relishes in watching you ride the ebb and flow of your orgasm with a heavy liddled gaze.

It’s enough to make his hips start to stutter beneath you and with a few more thrusts of his own, his large frame is shuddering between your legs, throbbing and spilling hot inside you with an unrestrained growl through gritted teeth. Each wave of it pulls the veins in his neck further towards the surface, swelling with the rush of oxytocin and dopamine.

Your grip loosens from his holster but he continues holding you in place for a moment. Other than your shared, heavy breaths, the office is still as quiet as when you walked in. You ease yourself up from him, where you lay your head against his chest while his knuckles strum back and forth across your arm.

"Detective." He laughs.

"You can laugh, but I say we just committed the perfect crime. Again. Things didn't turn out so bad after all, huh?" Your shared joke is interrupted by the clinking of metal on glass followed by a commotion coming from the cafeteria. "Sounds like you should get back out there." you tell him.

“Almost perfect.” he corrects you as you unwind yourself from around him for a second time.

Tim stands with a groan and pulls his slacks up to cross the office to his desk. He grabs a box of tissues from his desk drawer, wiping it around the back of his neck and over his chest before tossing it in the trash can. His long fingers fumble to redo the buttons of his shirt that now clings to his torso.

"You might want to, um..." you smile and point to his crotch and then over to his raincoat hanging on the back of the door.

Glancing down, he clicks his tongue at the sight and reluctantly shucks on his coat, buttoning it at his middle before tossing you the box of tissues.

Just as he turns on his heel to leave, you stretch over and grab the Santa hat. “Here. Don’t forget this.” you say, throwing it in his direction and he catches, rolling his eyes.

You take a moment to clean yourself up and smooth out your dress before grabbing your own jacket to put it back on. As you search through your pockets for your car keys, you pull out your underwear instead - the catalyst for the evening. Before leaving, you decide to leave a little reminder of your own and place them in the top drawer of Tim’s desk.

Walking back down the hallway towards the cafeteria, everyone is still as lively as when you left. There’s no funny glares from anyone. No one has batted an eyelid at his decision to put on more layers. They’re too busy discussing their Secret Santa gifts. Tim stands alone by the little Christmas tree. His cheeks are still flushed but the Santa hat has done its job at hiding his just fucked hair. He holds some crumpled gift wrap in one hand and a pocket sized black leather planner in the other.

“Wow. You got lucky.” you tease before pressing a kiss to his cheek. He quickly scans the room, making sure none of his colleagues overheard. “Don't forget to schedule me in for next year.” you say with a wink, tapping the hardcover of the planner with your finger. “I’ll see you at home.”

- - -

#tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford fanfiction #Spotify

[jesncin]

ohhhohoho someone else who also understands the untapped potential of survivor twin Constantine (I thought the potential left untapped was so fascinating I ended up making it the base of one of my fave OCs)

Anyways this is a request for the twin less twin John Constantine essay if you actually want to write it. You have a captive audience. Love your guys' art love everything about this idea

ohohoho an essay request?!?!!! Be still my heart, I am so touched that people want to hear more of Johnstantine Survivor Twin stories! I LOVE that the untapped potential became the basis for an OC for you, that is my favorite kind of creativity. Shortish essay incoming??

THE POTENTIAL OF SURVIVOR TWIN CONSTANTINE

I'm still reading through Hellblazer, but I can't help but feel the themes that crop up about how Constantine keeps losing friends and loved ones, how he struggles with commitment, how he keeps them at a distance feels like twinless twin angst to me! It's chasing an unattainable intimacy that can't ever be replicated, and the eternal grief some Survivor Twins go through- that fits Constantine a little too perfectly. John's themes are guilt? Well great, he's essentially assigned Survivor's Guilt at birth as a twin! He's haunted by the ghosts of people he's wronged or caused to die? Well, some twinless twins go through that too! Famously Elvis Presley was haunted by his lost womb twin, and perhaps talked to him when he was alone. Constantine's early bombastic punk lifestyle and eventual desire to live despite the odds (like in his cancer arc) reminds me of the pianist Liberance saying the death of his womb twin fueled his flamboyant lifestyle and "desire to live for two".

There's a lot of potential angst in contrasting Constantine's will to live and him never getting to reunite with his twin because he keeps cheating death. Maybe he wants his twin's ghost soul to move on from guilt, but Goldie doesn't want to ascend because John is all that he's ever known. Maybe Goldie's the only ghost that doesn't blame John for their death (no one should ever blame a surviving twin for the lost twin's death in my opinion, cough!!), and that in itself makes Constantine feel a unique kind of grief. Surviving identical twins talk about how even looking at the mirror brings them pain- because it's a reminder that your sibling didn't get to grow up the way you did. That bittersweet "you survived but at what cost" feels quintessential to Constantine stories.

Constantine Should Be Sincere Survivor Twin Representation Instead Of Another Tiresome Evil Demon Twin Narrative Blink If You Agree

#askjesncin #hellblazer #jesncin dc meta #cw stillbirth #sometimes I get embarrassed that I'm projecting onto these characters but like! if people connect and see sincerity #what's there to be embarrassed about! be cringe and free truly #ty for tossing this bone to me!! #media criticism

[defiantdreemurrs]

wow tumblr really wants to show me the absolute most bullshit terezi pyrope takes today doesnt it

terezi is fat and if you cant accept this then suffer in your misery

terezi did not want to stab vriska and doing so made her so fucking miserable and completely ruined her fucking life why do none of you understand the fucking text

the moment where pre-retcon terezi meets (vriska) is not a happy ending its a bittersweet reunion, a consolation prize so they can both face their incoming ghost death with a smile knowing that post-retcon terezi and vriska will save the world with all their friends

learn to read

#homestuck #terezi pyrope #vriska serket #vrisrezi #terezi #vriska #vriska homestuck #terezi homestuck

[plutonianeris]

𓆩♱𓆪 ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴀ ᴄᴀʀᴅ: your past life soulmate

this is a general reading & for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Interpret & choose based on your inner guidance and gut feeling.

𝕻𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖔𝖓𝖊

pile one, your lover from your past life had to fight for you. They had to not only prove themselves to you in a way (bc of your fear of opening up) but they had to prove themselves to society that they could be with you. You could have had significant differences in regards to income or even been from different racial, ethnic, religious or cultural backgrounds. You could also find yourself interested in those from different backgrounds now as well. Your past life lover taught you so much about your beliefs. They had an enthusiastic and energetic nature.They made you more hopeful about love because of their caregiving nature.

They were actually pretty tall and on the thinner side. They had a lean body and without a doubt, you definitely liked to stare and blushed under their knowing smirk when they caught you staring. You had many playful moments, especially when you go and sneak off together, whispering lovely things in each other’s ears. But there was a lot of heartbreak in this relationship because of external forces and the people around you. You cried a lot and ur lover would remind you about the importance of not holding grudges, of accepting people for who they are for your own peace. Again, this sense of disapproval whether from family or society.

This is a very bittersweet love. But it completely changed the way you saw and valued yourself for the better. However, It kind of makes me sad because it seems like you don’t end up together. Like your time together was cut short, not necessarily by a traumatic incident but the general circumstances made it that way and you both went your separate ways as you moved through this world. It gives me “the one that got away” type of energy. I asked if they are going to be your soulmate again in this lifetime and it’s yes. Your story is not over yet. Hmm, so watch out for a special someone who has Sagittarius placements, Jupiter-sun placements, Jupiter-mars placements, Jupiter or mars in the first house. And look out for north node and juno synastry. This time you’re going to be determined to put a ring on it.

𝕻𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖜𝖔

this pile is giving major enemies to lovers energy. In fact, everyone around you (especially your family) thought you two would be an amazing match. You both were very attractive and so your family thought you would make the most incredible family and also boost the income/status of the family as well. Arranged marriage just popped up. But whenever they came around you would just roll your eyes at them, you didn’t take them seriously even thought in the back of your mind you thought they were very beautiful. They had beautiful thick hair and light eyes. Their skin was clear as well. They just had a very refreshing and natural beauty. It seems like you two do end up in a union of some sort (whether it’s just being pushed to date or get married) but you slowly start falling for them over time.

They had an intensity that was magnetic and you could see it in the way other peoples eyes slightly widened a bit when your lover would walk in a room. They were respected. It’s giving me a lot of masculine energy. He could’ve been a business man or something like that. If this doesn’t Feel like it resonates that’s okay. There’s just this atmosphere of commanding energy that envelops them once they pull their sleeves back and get down to business. I got “oh, you thought I was just another pretty face?”

they definitely pleased you in the bedroom. Even after when you held together in the room tinted a midnight blue from the moonlight, your face would still be red thinking about the dirty things that had spilled out of your mouth in the heat of the moment, the way you moaned in their ear. Okay sorry (not sorry) I’m done now. This is just a hot couple. Very… I don’t wanna say superficial looking. But it’s like you two were an it couple but in a “wow don’t they look together. So cute” as others smiled at you guys. But in private it’s like, “I would die for you. I would go through hell and back just to hear you whisper my name” energy. It’s nice though. I love that you kept this intensity so private because that’s how much you wished to nurture it. “How lovely the silence of growing things”

Will you meet them again? It seems like you will. Many things will stay the same. Like the way you underestimate the potential of the relationship at first. But this time you’re going to allow yourself to have more faith in your romantic connection. Like even if you’re like idek if this is going to work you go ahead and do it anyway. You could even be a little reckless in the ways you dive in. Is that you from your past life refusing to ever hold back? Not daring to waste any breathe. Not daring to take for granted any brush of the lips or brushing of the hands as you walk side by side or shared joy at an inside joke as your laughter breaks through in the air. It feels like your lover promised you they would find you again in this life. Watch out for someone special that had placements of the sign in your 7th house, Taurus placements, 2nd house placements, Scorpio placements. And watch out for north node synastry, Ceres synastry and 8th house synastry.

𝕻𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊

I know this is suppose to be about them but this pile talked more about how they treated you instead. they WORSHIPPED YOU. They believed in you like you were some kind of god/goddess. Your name lingered in their prayers. and it wasn’t in a cringey way or overwhelming. There seemed to be a genuine reverence for you. Your lover in the past life spoke to you so gently. Even in the smallest shift in your body language, there eyes would meet yours as they silently communicated with their piercing gaze, are you okay? Again for for this pile I get that your past life soulmate had some kind of reputation/responsibility in the public eye. But it wasn’t like the business man energy of pile two. It’s more like a burden in a sense. They remind me of Anthony Bridgerton. Like the oldest sibling caring for his family or having to be the perfect role model.

And then they see you and they think that you are so beautiful.. so gentle and ethereal. They’re kind of even afraid to get close to you because they’re scared that it’s a trick in their mind. That someone as great as you can’t be crossing their path considering all the shitty cards they have been dealt. From the start your past life lover couldn’t help but daydream about you. About having a family together. About doing mundane things together that with you would have made their heart ache with joy. This was the love of eye contact across the room, standing way too close when talking to each other, feeling comfortable in each other’s space. It was cuddling together and giggling before falling asleep in each other’s arms. Understanding. Peace.

And honestly what I find most beautiful is that even when they first met you, they longed for you but not once did they feel entitled to you, like you owed anyone anything. It’s like a slow burn romance. And maybe for that they were rewarded because when I asked if you were going to meet them again in this life the answer was yes. Watch out for a special someone with significant Saturn aspects (or Capricorn/aqua placements), 9th house placements or even Pisces placements. In synastry look out for moon synastry, any exact conjuctions you might have with personal planets and 10th house synastry.

𝕻𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗

your past life soul mate definitely just did… whatever they wanted. They just had an insatiable urge to explore the world. To explore everything. Religion. Philosophy. Different nations. Foreign cultures. They were a humanitarian and could have been part of an organization you were in as well. Maybe that’s how you met. Pile 4, you definitely started off as friends first. It’s kind of giving me crazy scientist energy. But you were fascinated alongside other people as well. You loved to watch the way they talked about something they just learned or got excited. There’s a lot of masculine energy in this pile as well. When your past life soulmate looked at someone it made them feel so special, like they were on top of the world. They just had that quality about them. That you felt worthy when you talked to them. Like people just wanted to prove themselves.

Also it didn’t (it did) help that they were very attractive. They had a BIG smile. Like beautiful lips and teeth. intense eyes. strong jawline. And their complexion, they were either much lighter or darker than you. Your favorite thing to do was run your hand through their hair when you laid together at night, talking about all your big plans. Being with them made you feel like you could do anything in the world. They could have been older than you but not by much maybe 2-5 years.

And you could have spent time apart as well as they traveled and you focused on your big plans/goals. During that time you both picked up some lovers here and there but you always seemed to come back together. It could be a year later and they would show up on your doorstep with some item they discovered that reminded them of you. eyes gleaming and lighting up when they saw your face as the door opened. “Still looking lovely as always” This is an unconventional kind of love but I really like it a lot.

Do you meet again in this life? Yes you do. But this time around it seems like you’re going to take more precaution. Maybe in this lifetime you just want something more “stable” or consistent. There was in imbalance before, like a tug of war in a way. And this time you’ll be more in control. Be on the lookout for a special someone with Sagittarius placements, Leo placements (possibly a Leo sun), and significant aqua placements (like 3 or more). In synastry watch out for 9th house and 11th house synastry.

© plutonianeris 🕷

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[albatross-the-pen-chewer]

Had a dream where I was watching a movie titled "Low Power", which was about a young artist who was just, incredibly talented. He would make interactive exhibits, and short films, and stunning murals that people loved, but he didn't really make any money off of it. He made this art because he loved it, but the cost of living was far too high for his lifestyle to be sustainable.

He ended up changing career paths (though it was hard to call his art a career) so that he could support himself. But it was soul crushing, and he slowly stopped making art altogether. He didn't lose any artistic inspiration, or run out of ideas, it was just that by the time he got home from work, he wouldn't have any energy to spare to make art again. Certainly not the extravagant pieces that made him well-known in his late teens and early twenties.

Everyone who knew him thought it was a tragedy that he wasn't making anything anymore, mourned his potential, but didn't quite make the connection that regardless of how good his artwork was, he simply could not survive without the income of a "real job".

Eventually, decades later, he loses his job. The work was slowly killing him, all the art he desperately wanted to make but couldn't was haunting him, and the stress of it all led to him becoming very sick, and despite his loyalty to the company he worked for for years, they let him go for taking too much sick leave (although that's not what was said on paper).

The movie ended with him abandoning his career to make art again, but it was bittersweet, because it carried the feeling that when this man's savings finally drained, this cycle would either continue, or he would die. The choice he would've made was left ambiguous.

And I remember feeling upset that people didn't get it, that they misinterpreted the ending as a happy one because he was making art again, and I was saying "Don't you see?? Nothing's changed! He's not making money, he's not being taken care of to support his creative endeavors, he's going to die!!"

I felt like I was going crazy.

#dreams #nap brain strikes again