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romanarose · 3 days

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About a Girl: Chapter 1

Beautiful header by my beloved @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Joel Miller x Trans!Fem!Reader (Nickname, Blue)

Series Masterlist : The Last of Us Masterlist : Full Masterlist

Summary: Joel is a simple man. He goes to work, he takes care of his kindergarten age daughter, he tries to make sure Tommy doesn't die and occasionally Tess comes over. He works on Frank and Bill's farm with Tommy, Tess, and another coworker, Max. For his birthday, Tommy drags Joel out to a local grunge band's show, music he knows Joel hates. Joel is surprised to find Tess's girlfriends best friend, a girl they all call Blue because of the blue in her hair, has caught his attention.

What he doesn't know is she is trans. When he finds out, he's very confused, not because he judges her, but because he's not sure what it means for him. Does it make him gay? What does trans even mean? He's very confused. Still, despite all the confusion Joel has an open mind and he just knows that he has a lot of feelings for you and he wants to try. Joel goes on a journey of learning, not only what your trans identity means but also how to take care of himself, how to set boundaries, and learning he doesn't need carry the whole world on his shoulders.

Joel loves country, is as yeehaw as they come. Blue loves grunge, and looking as edgy as she can get by as a school teacher. Can you and Joel make it all work with the one thing that bonds them both together; flannel?

Warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter: 18+ ONLY!! I cannot warn against everything, but these are major themes. Joel is a lil ignorant but not out of hate. He just doesn't know. He's trying his best. There will be smut. Penetrative sex, all of the anal play, oral. There will be transphobia from other people. Addiction and alcoholism. QUICK child neglect not by Joel but I promise, Sarah is fine and is having a great time in life. Fetishization of women attracted to women by a shitty guy. Will update as needed. Again, this is adult content. Expect adult content.

Immersivity: Reader is transgender, AMAB female, reader has had gotten bottom surgery, not top, and is on hormones. reader has visible hair and a blue streak in hair, but not described. Could be braids, could be natural hair, whatever. Header is for aesthetics only. Reader is about Joel and Tommy's height. Let me know if i miss anything!

A/N: I am not a trans woman, but I am trans. I am doing my best research! If I got something wrong or accidentally say something offensive, please tell me! Same with Sarah's hair. I learned a LOT about black hair care from living with my black roommate for 2 years, and watching a lot of youtube. Again, if im incorrect or offensive, let me know and ill correct! I just want Joel to care about his daughters hair <3

TRANS LIVES MATTER! TRANS YOUTH MATTER! TRANS ELDERLY MATTER! TRANS WOMEN MATTER! TRANS MEN MATTER! NON BINARY TRANS MATTER!

It all started with Tommy, as most adventures do. Joel was certain Tommy would make sure to mention that fact during his best man speech.

“You have got to get out more. You’re making me stir crazy just watching you sit at home.”

Joel rolled his eyes, packing Sarah’s lunch. He was happy to throw in some plums, Sarah’s favorite fruit, that he got from the food pantry. Since Sarah started kindergarten and he didn’t have to pay for nearly as much childcare, things had gotten less horrifically tight financially but now he was playing catch up. Catching pneumonia last winter had drained his little savings with an ER visit. Joel desperately wanted to not rely on charity, but he also didn’t want Sarah to go without.

“How would you know, you’re never even home.” Since getting out of the army, Tommy has not adjusted well. Joel was happy to let him live in the house he built for his ex-fiance on his parents land they gifted when Sarah was born. Tommy was a help with Sarah and was good company when he wasn’t out partying.

“Hey.” Tommy looked a little offended. “I’m here plenty. Just ask Sarah.” Sarah adored her uncle.

Joel sighed. “You’re right.” He wasn’t. “But I ain’t going. I can’t afford that, and I’d like to spend my days off with Sarah.”

Tommy tossed a cosmic brownie from the box he bought into Sarah’s lunchbox. “Come oooooon. Sarah loves the babysitter, and one night out won’t traumatize her forever. I’ll pay for the sitter, I already got tickets and I’ll even cover your drinks.”

Joel would rather the money go towards Sarah’s next dental appointment, but he couldn’t tell Tommy where to spend his money, and he knew there was no saying no to his brother when he gets like this. “How many bands are playing? I ain’t sitting through three openers, Tom.”

“Just one! You’re coming!” Tommy ran out of the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time before Joel could protest. “Sarah! Guess who gets to hang out with Jessica tonight!” Joel could hear the sound of springs bouncing as Sarah cheered and called out if the bed breaks, Tommy’s fixing it.

After getting Sarah dressed, he sat her down on a chair in the kitchen and looked at the clock. “Only got time for a ponytail, baby girl.” Joel had figured out some simple hair care for thick hair he wasn’t quite equipped to work with. Before Sarah was born, he didn’t know how to do a single braid. Joel had practiced a little before Tommy had to chop off his hippie curls for the army but he still was lost in a lot of ways. 2 years ago, Joel must’ve looked particularly lost in the ethnic hair aisle with Sarah in the cart and a kind woman guided him to some hair gel, argan oil, and an edge brush, scribbling a few instructions on some scratch paper. That’s what's gotten him through this far. Joel kept thinking he needed to reach out somewhere or maybe find a book… but with what time?

Kayla, Sarah’s mom, wasn’t much help either. Kayla was mixed and absolutely inherited the polish side as far as hair, where Sarah got her late grandma’s genes. Kayla wanted to chemically straighten Sarah’s beautiful curls last year when she had her over Easter, but Joel put his foot down. When she was older, if she wanted to do whatever she wanted with her hair, braids, relaxed, wigs, she could but there was no way he was letting all those chemicals into a 4 year olds head just to make it “easier.” Joel could handle it.

She looked cute with her little puffball on the top of her head, anyway.

“TOMMY! LETS GO!” Why was Tommy harder to get out the door than Sarah was?

Little hands tugged at his shirt. “Daddy I want coffee.”

“No baby”

“Why?”

“It’s not good for little kids.”

“Uncle Tommy lets me have coffee.”

Joel sighed loudly. “Of course he did. Well, Sarah, that’s an uncle thing, I don’t know what to tell you. TOMMYYY!”

Tommy’s heavy footsteps clomped down the steps, dashing out the door. “Come one Jojo, whatcha wait’n for?”

How did little kids have so much energy in the morning? Tommy included. Sarah was chatty as ever on her way, talking excitedly about the eggs in the classroom's incubator. He tried to pay attention, he really did, but he was busy trying to figure out what bills he still owes. It was only September, one month into not having to pay out the ass for Sarah’s daycare. Was he even gonna be able to catch up at all before the summer comes? Her mom said she wanted to take her for the summer, but she was single right now and slightly more involved. When she finds a new man, she suddenly becomes much less interested in her child. Joel didn’t want Sarah around strange men all the time either.

“Daddy? Daddy? Daddy? Daddy?”

Tommy nudged Joel, calling him name for Sarah’s attention.

“What?” Joel said, not unkindly but perhaps a little too harsh than he wanted to speak around his daughter.

“Happy birthday daddy.”

Joel closed his eyes briefly, wincing at his prior tone. “Thank you baby. I’ll bring home a cake, how about that.” He felt like he could cry, snapping at his sweet girl for trying to wish him happy birthday. He was so bad at this.

Both children in the car cheered.

Joel dropped Sarah off with several kisses on her forehead, then ran off to the truck. He might just be on time if he speeds a bit. He didn’t speed with Sarah in the truck, he was less careful with Tommy.

“Just in time!” Tess’s voice greeted them in the farm house. “You guys eat?”

She knew the answer. Sarah’s kindergarten had a free breakfast program, leaving Joel and Tommy on their own and god knows they didn’t take proper care of themselves. Luckily, they had great bosses.

Joel, Tommy, and Tess all worked for Bill and Frank on their farm. Joel had stumbled on this job shortly after Kayla left and God, what a blessing. Bill and Frank had trouble finding help being the only gay farmers on the planet to felt like, but Joel wasn’t really in a position to deny a good paying job, not in this economy, not with a baby who barely had a mom around anymore. This was before Tommy came back from the army, and Joel’s parents dead a few years prior. He was alone.

That’s where he met Tess. She was something else. A woman working as a farm hand alone was surprising enough, but she was the first openly bisexual person Joel had met. Hell, she was the only the third gay person he knew of and the first woman. He’d lived a sheltered life. Still, Joel didn’t really see an issue with none of it. Wasn’t his business what two grown adults did, that was his thought on the matter. Not that he really had enough time to have thoughts on much of anything other than keeping Sarah and Tommy alive. When Tommy came back, he started working on the farm too.

Tess slid the men some pancakes, stating she knew it and went ahead and made extra.

Frank entered the room with something in his hand. “Wait!” He placed the item, which Joel saw was a candle on the the pancake.

“Oh, no, you guys don’t gotta-”

“Shut the hell up, Miller.” Bill entered the room with a pack of cigarettes in one hand and a lighter in the other. He lit the candle, and then a cigarette.

Frank took it out of his hand, putting it out under the sink. “If you absolutely must smoke, you’re not smoking inside our home.” He then turned back to Joel. “Happy birthday, Joel.” The forth employee, Max, enters the farmhouse and then embarrassingly, Franks leads everyone (except Bill) in a very shitty rendition of happy birthday.

“Hey,” Tess nudged Joel as she attempted to fix the clutch without calling Bill up. “You coming tonight?”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Tommy convinced me. He also told Sarah it’s my birthday so now I gotta bring home cake and do a bit of the birthday thing with her. I was hoping to avoid it another year.”

She laughed at that. “Ah come on! It can’t be that bad.”

“She’s not, it’s my birthday that is.”

“I know.” Tess patted his back.

Joel and her worked in silence for a moment, but he figured this was as good a time as any. “Hey uh… so. You and Tommy.”

Tess smirked, but didn’t look at him. “What about my dear friend?”

“Well uh, that’s just it…” Joel cleared his troat, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just, you guys been spending a lot of time together, and I’m just… well you know he’s at tough spot right now…-”

“When isn’t he?”

“Right. Well. I’m just wondering… Well.”

With a chuckle, she put down the wrench and turned to look at Joel with a smile. “You’re wondering if Tommy and I are an item.”

Cringing hard enough his eyes were closed, Joel nods.

“Don’t worry about your baby brother, he can handle himself.”

“Can he?”

“Joel. Look at me.”

Joel forced his eyes open.

“Tommy and I fuck sometimes to blow off steam, don’t act you’re much different.”

“It was one time!”

“It was 4 times, glad to know that I’m that forgettable.” Tess continued with her teasing before Joel could protest. “Listen, I know you’re worried about him, but Tommy and I aren’t interested in dating each other. It’s just for fun sometimes. Tommy puts up a tough front but I’d eat that boy alive.”

Finally, Joel laughed. Yes, she would.

Tess went back to work. “Besides, you’re meeting my new girlfriend tonight, birthday boy.”

Joel was exhausted, washing his hands and forearms and face before leaving to get Sarah. He tried to stay as clean as possible for Sarah. She didn’t need to know how hard he worked for her.

“Hey Joel, I get to watch Sarah this fall don’t I?” Frank asked as he sauntered into the kitchen.

Joel tried to protest, as he did every year, but it was merely a formality to be polite. He couldn’t afford childcare in the late hours it took to get harvest done. Hopefully it wouldn’t be so bad now that Max was hired on, he didn’t see Sarah hardly at all harvest. Joel would come back to the farmhouse to find Sarah asleep on the couch with Frank, who was no help with farming. He handled the finances and paperwork, and functioned as a babysitter in pinches. Joel was forever indebted to the couple, inclduding Bill despite his facade of toughness.

“Nonsense Joel. I look forward to seeing her every time.” Sarah fucking loved Frank. He was teaching her painting and how to have a proper tea party, real tea and all. But with a lot of sugar.

Speaking earnestly, Joel tried to express his appreciation. “Thanks, Frank. I appreciate it. I couldn’t do this without you.”

Frank clapped Joel on the shoulders, sliding him a card. “Thank you for everything you do. We really value you. I know Bill doesn’t say it much, or at all, but we appreciate you here.” He walked off, knowing Joel would protest the $500 cash inside the card.

“Daddy! Daddy! I made a friend!” Sarah exclaimed excitedly, running up to her father still covered in her paint smock that quickly transferred the red and blue onto Joel’s jeans.

“Is that so? Who is it?”

Sarah pointed to a little brunette girl sitting in time out. “That’s Ellie! She’s in trouble because she pretended a block was a gun.”

“Oh.”

At home, Joel went through the evening routine with Sarah, Tommy having gone with Tess to pre-game. He fed her as much of the macaroni she’d eat, bathed her and made sure to make things as easy for the sitter as possible. When Jessica came over, a nice local teenager that was great with Sarah, he briefed her as he tried to clean up the kitchen.

“Daddy? Where’s the cake.”

Goddammit of course he forgot something. He just can’t do anything right, can he? He was a shitty dad, a shitty brother, a shitty boyfriend, a needy employee-

“Where's the birthday boy!” Tommy burst in, followed by a group of people, some he knew, some he didn’t. With him was Tess carrying a cake.

“TESS!!!!!!” Sarah shouted, but went more for the cake she carried.

“Hiya, love bug!” She patted her ponytail. “Ready to sing happy birthday at the top of your lungs?”

Hadn’t she had enough happy birthdays? She must’ve known he’d forget the cake. They hadn’t been pregaming at all, they were making him a cake.

Tess hands the cake to Tommy, then gestures to the women next to her. Dark skinned, tall, her hair in… locks? Were those called locks? He was cooked. He needs to learn hair. “This is Talia, my girlfriend.”

Talia smiled brightly, extended a hand which Joel shook. “So nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. Tess talks a lot about you Tommy and Max, it’s nice to put faces to the names.”

“Please, Joel is fine. I may ache like an old man, but I’m not one yet.” Joel joked with a soft but tired smile. He turned to tess. “Max coming?”

“Yup.” She shot him a look to be nice. Joel wasn’t fond of max. Good worker, shit head of a person. Joel knew he couldn’t really blame all Tommy’s shit on bad influences, but Max didn’t help. “And this,” She gestured over to another woman who he had just been too flustered to notice until now. “Is Talia’s best friend.”

You were absolutely fucking stunning, unlike anyting he’d ever seen in his life. Tight white tank top, tight leather pants and a leather jacket. In your hair was a streak of vibrant blue. Your eyes connected with his and for a moment, he forgot about all the other people in the room.

“Oh, um, hello,” Joel shook your hand when he snapped out of it, repeating your name.

You smile at him. “Actually, most people just call me Blue.”

A small voice from Joel’s hip. “Is that because of your hair? Why is it blue? Are you sick?”

“Sarah! Don’t be rude.”

Chuckling brightly, you promise it’s okay and crouch down to Sarah’s eye level. “I’m not sick. I actually dye it like that.”

“But why?”

Internally, Joel groaned, thinking you’d take offense at the line of questions Sarah’s certainly had ready, but you just answered. “Well, I think it makes me look pretty, just you’re cute hair style makes you look pretty.”

Sarah lit up at that. “My daddy did it!!!”

“He did? That’s so awesome! You have such a nice daddy.”

Sarah nodded in avid agreement. “He’s the BEST!”

Joel couldn’t help smiling at that. He always felt like he was failing her, but she loved him regardless. “I can’t do a lot, but I’m trying to learn. I can do a mean ponytail.” Joel caught Tommy smirking at him.

Once the babysitter took Sarah to wash up for cake, Talia quietly spoke to Joel, still attached to Tess's arm. “Tess told me her mom isn’t really involved. I’d love to help you learn how to care for black hair.”

Joel felt his heart drop. “Oh shit, does it look terrible? I really tried but I don’t even know where to go and-”

Talia cut him off with a laugh and a hand up. “No, not at all! It looks very healthy. I just mean if you’d like to learn how to do more, especially as it gets longer.”

Always embarrassed to ask for help, he always swallowed his pride for Sarah. “Yeah, yeah actually I’d really like that… I’ll play yuh, don’t worry I wouldn’t make you do it for free-”

She attempted to say he didn’t need to pay, but Tess told her it was useless to try and fight. Joel figured the bonus from Bill and Frank could pay for Sarah’s dentist cleaning and the rest he could pay Talia.

After a terrible happy birthday and saying goodbye to Sarah longer than really necessary, Joel was dragged out of the house to go to some shitty local grunge bands show for his birthday.

Joel fucking hated his birthday.

Thank you thank you thank you!!!!! I can't beleive people actually wanted to read this!!! We need more trans rep in this fandom <3

First chapter setting things up, then one chapter per week for 6 weeks for my Oscar/Pedro pride event!!! each chapter 2-7 will follow themes of the week until the happy end <3

MEET THE OC'S

Talia Monroe

Tess's girlfriend, Blue's bestfriend. Talia is joyfriend and high energy. She offers to help Joel learn black hair to properly care for Sarah.

Max Waltz

Works on the farm with Joel, Tommy, and Tess. Tommy likes him, Joel hates him, Tess ears towards liking him but tries to keep him in check. Max is a generally barzen man, hates his wife, is loud and annoying to Joel.

Kayla Carter

*no face claim right now*

Joel's high school sweetheart and ex-fiance, Sarah's mom. Kayla is in an out of sarah's life, lives out of town and is only around when its convinient, leaving Joel with alone.

I don't do tag lists for one shots but I do still for series so

How to keep up with the series:

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I really enjoy writing this series so I hope you like it too <3

KISSES

Please remeber to reblog or comment or engage in some way <3 community keeps us all writing and drawing

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @ashleyfilm @bumblepony @snnyc @casa-boiardi @del-ightfulling @joelsoftie

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adachimoe · 2 days

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Adachi's fixation on Mayumi

In a previous post, I talked about how the game is vague about why Adachi is at the Amagi ryokan, and how I believe it's implying he was stalking Mayumi, and that he hadn't actually been assigned to guard her. I still believe that, but, what exactly about her was Adachi so fixated on that he felt compelled to do this in the first place?

Normally, one would probably just go, "Adachi is an incel" and that's supposed to serve as an explanation for both why he liked her and why he killed her. But painting over everything about him as "Adachi is an incel" feels really reductionist.

When Adachi calls out to Mayumi at the ryokan, he asks her to come to the lobby and begins by asking her about the affair. This scene actually has some significance in how Katsura Hashino re-interpreted the mythology of Izanagi and Izanami for Persona 4: In his mind, Izanagi going to Yomi to verify if Izanami was dead or not represented a desire to seek out the truth; death is when you "quit thinking". Adachi mirrors this, going to the Amagi's (his Yomi), and verifying information about Mayumi (his Izanami).

And when Adachi asks her, he presents it in a way that says, he is on her side. His phrasing here is notable: The affair - it's not true, right? And it shows what he wants to believe too, because he doesn't want to believe that she was in an affair with a married man.

After all, he probably saw her on the Midnight Channel before and has it in his brain that she's his "soulmate". Heck, even when you find him in the TV World, he's ranting about her not being single:

It's parasocial and it's creepy. God I wish he'd talk about me that way.

But, I think it's in how he presented himself as "taking her side" that we can figure out why he was so fixated on her. If Adachi comes in assuming that Mayumi was not really having an affair with Namatame, then that means that her losing her job at the station, her being forced to hole herself up in the ryokan, the media circus surrounding her, etc... Then that would make her a victim in all of this: Someone who has been thrown under the bus and is being treated unfairly. And by her former media contemporaries, nonetheless.

Funny enough, as it would happen, there is a character in the story who feels they are a victim who has been treated unfairly and fell from grace at their workplace, and sees their current situation as punishment from their coworkers...

...aaand it's Adachi.

It feels quite probable to me that part of why Adachi fixated so hard on Mayumi is because he basically looked at her situation and thought, "Oh, she's just like me, frfr". Dude really headcanoned that her affair wasn't even real.

We aren't really shown what happens with Adachi and the Midnight Channel after he comes into town. We know that he had seen it before he talked to Mayumi, as he was aware he could touch the TV, just unaware that a whole body could go in. And with Mayumi's scandal being in the news and media, and her being on people's minds, we know she appeared on it during Namatame's flashbacks.

I think Adachi got it in his mind that even though she was this otherwise out of of reach person for him, being a celebrity and all, she too was a victim of sorts, and what he saw as a common point between them (we don't actually know why he got transferred lol) could have led to a blossoming relationship. Like they were meant to be together, as he probably saw her as his soulmate on the Midnight Channel. Oh, what a coincidence for her to go through this big media scandal when around the same time that he transfers into Inaba. Clearly it was fate.

Really, he's fucking delusional. It's great.

Although, I do wonder if this also says something about him. While he talks big in his Golden Social Link about only going after insanely beautiful women, he isn't actually portrayed in the narrative as trying to hit on women or ask them out regularly. While he has his preferences, perhaps he only tries to seriously pursue women who are broken or downtrodden in someway--like it's less chance of getting rejected.

#persona 4 #tohru adachi #mayumi yamano #adachi brainrot

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lady-phasma · 1 day

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AUNTIE! Seeing that me coming across your wonderful pieces written regarding Daemon‘s and Aemond‘s pubes *delicious*:

What do you think, how would they prefer their women to be down there? 👀 Or is it because it’s a medieval setting it’s all hairy and that’s it? 🤭

I love this ask so much! Thank you! I am cackling. These are literally the best kind of asks.

The other asks mentioned are here: Daemon's and Aemond's pubic hair, in a good bit of detail. Most of my followers and moots know that I appreciate fun in a fandom so here we go... Our Targ men and my thoughts on their thoughts about grooming...

Starting with Aemond, he's very open minded about such things. He might be very fastidious about his own grooming, but he's not shy around a bush. He appreciates the natural and unkempt beauty of all women and respects how they feel most comfortable. If she takes the time to trim or to shave (some or all of it), he gets excited, his eye lights up, and he grins at first sight of her attention to detail.

He's no stranger to having his nose tickled by thick hair nor to the slight pink "burn" on his chin and cheeks from a close crop. He is so enthusiastic about pleasing his woman that he barely notices once he dives in. When it's not up close and in his face, he doesn't think about it again. He might watch while plowing away but he won't notice her hair at all. Aemond only has an eye for how well she takes his cock and the way she enjoys herself.

Daemon is a different story, however. He's more experienced than Aemond and knows exactly what he prefers. He is no longer impressed by the shaved pussies at brothels, he's seen enough of those to last a lifetime. On the other hand, carelessness with her appearance and grooming is an indication for him that his lady doesn't care about what he thinks. He likes to think about himself, a lot, and needs others to take his desires into consideration, often more than their own. He won't demand it, but he expects a neat and tidy bush. She made the effort to please him and it shows. That drives him wild. He has no medium setting: he's either turned off or feral. Laziness where he is concerned might mean no second helpings. But caring about his preferences would lead to a third and fourth.

Daemon will enthusiastically bury his face in her curls and ignore any potential discomfort - the visual is enough for him. Speaking of visuals, watching his cock disappear into that trimmed and tidy bush is something he can't get enough of! He is incredibly pleased with himself (and his cock), but that extra sign of care and attention to his wants will have him entranced.

#unhinged headcanon #love my moots #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #daemon targaryen #asked and answered

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gloomwitchwrites · 3 days

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Flower Crown

Aragorn x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, light angst, kissing, non-descriptive intimacy

Word Count: 2k

During a spring festival, the man you love returns unexpectedly.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // spring 2024 masterlist

The sky is a cloudless, endless ocean above your head.

You breathe deep, savoring the scents in the air. Newly bloomed flowers, freshly baked bread, and roasting chicken all infiltrate your nostrils, reminding of you the celebration that’s about to begin. Anticipation buzzes under your skin like a swarm of startled bees. You’ve been waiting for this all winter. Spring is finally here, knocking, ready to be greeted. The flowers are in full bloom, and the trees have awakened from their solemn slumber.

Every year the small village in which you’ve lived your whole life celebrates the changing of the seasons. A community-wide festival is held. Each person is involved in their own way, and the duties are often assigned at the beginning of winter to allow everyone to prepare. Sometimes, these responsibilities shift, but a few remain the same.

Last year, you attended the baker in their duties to provide baked goods. This year, you were tasked with sewing new dresses for all the unmarried young women. The base fabric, an off-white cotton, remains the same. It’s like a blank page awaiting colorful paint or black ink, each dress ready to be designed with every young woman in mind. You, and several of the married women, take great care in personalizing each dress to the young ladies’ personalities.

It is not by chance that this happens. It is more than tradition. Rebirth and renewal are the themes of the festival, and with that comes an influx of weddings. The dresses are for that very reason, as a form of matchmaking, along with the presented flower crowns and the festival itself. You’ve always thought it silly but never truly commented on the matter. Fortunately, with you on sewing duties, you were able to work on your own dress.

With the dresses come flower crowns. They are given to the young women by unmarried men of the village. It is always the married women and village elders who quietly determine which man will gift what crown to who. They’re intuition is almost always correct. It is rare for a pair to not eventually marry. Sometimes it is quick, and sometimes it is years later before either realizes they belong together.

And the flower crowns are the true beauty. Another group handmakes each one. But because you know how intricate they are, you did nothing for your dress. It is simple. Plain. Just because you’re forced to be part of this tradition doesn’t mean you want to try and find a husband. You’re perfectly fine alone, because the man you do want is far away.

He isn’t avoiding you. Not on purpose. Aragorn is a ranger. He thrives in the wilds, seeking out the darkness to rid it from the world. But you do miss your wanderer. He tries to travel through your area as often as he can just to see you.

Over the years, the friendliness has grown, becoming heat and tension.

None of the other men in the village make you feel the way he does, and they likely never will.

In the shade of a tree, you smooth out the front of your dress. The tips of your fingers itch and you need to move them just to calm yourself. That alone is silly. What do you have to be nervous for? The process is always the same, always consistent, so why do you feel like this?

The young, unmarried women begin to congregate near the arch of flowers. Breathing deep, you march forward, finding your spot where it always is. You can taste the eagerness in the air. The women around you are just as nervous, nearly bouncing on their toes. They whisper to each other, giggling, but none of them glance your way or address you.

All day, and not even one has thanked you for your work.

But you won’t let it eat away at your resolve. Today is a good day. You’ll drink berry wine and gorge yourself on delicious food while listening to the married women gossip about their husbands.

As the village elders arrive, all talking ceases. That is the cue, and just like the women in line, you curtesy. You’re not allowed to look up, to glance into the face of the man who will place a crown upon your head. You keep your head bent and gaze on the ground.

There is shuffling, the rustling of hands lifting crowns. You focus on the green grass beneath your feet. You’re the only one up here not wearing shoes. You breathe in, and out, watching as so many pairs of polished boots pass by.

When someone does stop before you, the boots are not clean. They are muddy and have seen travel. You almost want to laugh but really, you’re curious. Who is this? Who would be so bold to come to the crowning with filthy boots?

In the next moment, the crown is placed upon your head. You don’t move. Don’t breathe. The stranger’s fingers brush the underside of your chin, pressing gently. You respond. You can’t resist. It is natural to do so.

Your gaze takes in this stranger as your head lifts. And when you see his face, you realize that this is no stranger at all.

“Aragorn,” you whisper, and his response is a smile.

There is applause, and good-natured cheering all around, and yet you respond to none of it. It is only him, this man you’ve been missing, standing before you.

“What are you doing here?” you ask just as the music starts up. It’s too early. Aragorn often arrives in the fall when the leaves start to change.

Others are already wandering off together or going their separate ways. You’re left staring, happy to see him but not understanding why.

“To see you,” he replies.

To see you. To see you. Whatever nervousness you felt before is gone, replaced with a giddiness that sends heat right to your cheeks.

When you don’t reply immediately, Aragorn frowns. “Have I upset you?”

“No!” You reach for him, grabbing his upper arm, taking a step forward. “Not at all. I’m just…surprised.”

His gaze softens, and you could fall into his depths. “Didn’t think I’d come?”

“You always visit when the weather begins to cool.”

“I do,” he agrees. “Couldn’t stay away.” Aragorn says this almost absently as his fingers toy with a white ribbon on your dress.

A young woman shrieks with delight, and you and Aragorn both turn as she’s hoisted in the air.

“Would you like to dance?” he asks.

The answer is immediate. “Yes.”

He presents his hand, and you take it. His palm is warm. Strong. Aragorn leads, and then you’re moving, matching the correct steps. It’s not an intense dance but it isn’t slow either.

“Did you just arrive?”

He smiles. “As they were distributing the flowers.”

“Is that why you’re so dirty?” Aragorn laughs as you lean in and sniff, making an exaggerated expression. “And smelly?”

“I thought you liked the way I smelled after a ride.” Aragorn wraps his arm around your waist, turning as he does so.

“A ride,” you correct. “Not a journey.”

The music swells, dips, and then increases in pace. You’re left focusing on your feet, going through the motions. But Aragorn knows what he’s doing, and he leads you through it effortlessly. It’s difficult to speak, but his hands do enough talking. Aragorn’s touch lingers. He might squeeze slightly or allow his hand to wander. It stirs something hot in your belly that travels lower until you’re blazing everywhere.

When the music comes to an end, and the two of you are out of breath, Aragorn places his hand on your lower waist and guides you away.

“Something to drink?”

“Please.”

Berry wine is had before Aragorn takes your hand again, the two of you strolling off into the nearby orchard. Between the trees, there is privacy, the two of you walking in gentle silence. It’s just your hand in his and the warm breeze that stirs up your dress.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you say, stopping next to an apple tree. There are leaves on its branches but no blooms.

Aragorn comes to a stop beside you, his chest nearly brushing your shoulder. “Glad? That is all you feel?” With a soft touch, Aragorn turns your head in his direction. His head is angled downward, and there is no escaping what you see in his eyes.

There are times when the two of you have found a bit of quiet, some peace only with the need to explore the other. As you gaze upon his face, you are entirely aware of what he wants, but Aragorn is an honorable man. He will not push or insist on more unless you’re the one who seeks it out.

The berry wine is warm in your blood. Aragorn’s nearness is just as intoxicating. His fingers play with that same ribbon, and you lean into his touch until your noses brush lightly against each other.

“There is plenty I feel,” you reply, your voice a whisper amongst the birdsong and breeze.

“Is your heart willing to share?” Aragorn tugs lightly on the ribbon, loosening a portion of the bodice.

“Is yours willing to hear the truth?” you counter, knowing that you’d give him anything in this moment.

Aragorn tugs on the ribbon again, loosening the bodice further. Air rushes into your lungs as your chest receives a bit of freedom. “Tell me now. Under the trees. Let the sky listen.”

“You’re far too sweet to be a warrior,” you laugh, and Aragorn grins, closing the distance. The kiss is chaste and lovely, sending heat down to your toes and up to the crown of your head.

Your fingers find the front of his tunic. They curl inward, pulling of their own accord, seeking his closeness. Aragorn indulges, deepening the kiss until your bodies are pressed together. His hand rises, clutching the back of your neck. There is only you and him and your repeated meetings.

When you finally break apart, your lips are raw, and you hunger for more. You ache for deeper things, and long to tell him so.

“Is this all right?” he asks, fingers brushing against your exposed collarbone.

“Yes,” you murmur in reply, shivering under his touch.

Aragorn returns to your mouth, and you open for him. Your own fingers explore as much as his, but it is Aragorn’s fingers that venture beneath fabric.

You inhale sharply, and his hand retreats. “Apologies.”

“Don’t stop,” you say, grasping his wrist to guide his hand back to your skin.

Under the shade of the apple tree, Aragorn follows your lead, the two of you finding a dance. Although time has not been kind, keeping the two of you parted, there is no need to rush. You are happy simply existing with him, taking time to explore and savor what you’ve missed over the last few months.

Every caress is a song, and each kiss not only satiates but fuels the hunger that sits low in your belly. Fingers press and dig into skin. Clothing opens or falls away. There is no one else around, and Aragorn’s warmth is all you seek.

“Will you stay?” you ask between kisses.

Aragorn pauses, drawing back slightly. “For a few days.”

A few days. A few days with him and then separation. With Aragorn arriving now, will he return in the fall? Or will this be your new normal?

Even as these doubts swirl in your mind, you know the truth.

You don’t care.

As long as he comes, as long as he returns to you when he can, that is enough.

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