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ambrosiagoldfish · 1 day

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Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️

like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea

Benifit of the doubt Pt.4

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Request Box: Open

Word Count: 4617~

A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)

Reblogs are always appreciated!

Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)

Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.

To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.

A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.

Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.

How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.

You never returned to any of the follow up meetings

But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.

“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.

“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”

Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”

You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.

“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”

Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”

You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”

That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.

You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.

Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.

“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”

Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.

Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”

“What!” Both your voices raise in shock

“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”

“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly

“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”

“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”

“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”

“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”

With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.

The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.

On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.

The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.

“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”

“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth

“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.

“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.

“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.

“When should she be arriving, Lute?”

“Within the hour.”

Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.

But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.

“She can’t see us?”

“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”

The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.

“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”

You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.

You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.

Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.

She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.

The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.

“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”

Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”

“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.

Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.

So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.

“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.

You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”

Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”

“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”

Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”

“But-“

“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”

“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”

Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought

“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg

Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”

Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.

Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.

A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!

“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding

“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”

You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”

She shakes her head

“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”

Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”

“Thank you.”

You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.

A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.

“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.

“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.

“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”

Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”

You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”

Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”

“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”

He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.

Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.

Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.

“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“

You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”

He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-

You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”

He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”

With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’

You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.

The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.

You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.

“Hi! I’m-“

The door is slammed shut, Before opening again

“Be not afraid-“

It shuts again…

Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.

“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.

“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.

“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…

“Wait, you are-“

“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”

Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.

“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”

“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”

Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”

Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”

She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”

You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.

“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.

“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first

“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.

“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”

“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.

“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”

The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch

“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.

He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.

The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.

“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”

The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.

“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”

The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”

“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”

Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.

“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”

“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”

“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”

“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs

She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.

You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.

You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.

*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*

Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.

Dixkmaster69

Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left

You there??

Fucking answer

You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.

Sweetcheeks

Hey love

Everything’s fine, I’m ok.

Aside from not having you with me :’(

Dixkmaster69

Fucking finally

You know you don’t have to do this

If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow

Sweetcheeks

Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.

I promise I’m going to be fine

I’ll be back before you know it.

Dixkmaster69

I know

This shit just worries me

Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)

You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.

Sweetcheeks

I already miss yours too <3

Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?

Dixkmaster69

Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3

You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.

“Sup”

You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”

You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”

You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”

“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”

You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…

“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”

More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”

Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”

Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 16 hours

Text

The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k

Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀

A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.

P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘

P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

previous |

FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.

Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.

Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.

Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.

Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.

The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.

Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.

Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.

It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.

Then you remember.

You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.

This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.

You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.

Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.

But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.

You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.

You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.

There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.

You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.

He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.

Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.

Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.

No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.

“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?

“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.

Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.

You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.

You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.

“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”

You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.

“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.

Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?

His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-

“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.

“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.

“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”

You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.

“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.

“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?

And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”

“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”

“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.

You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.

You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn’t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.

It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”

Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.

His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.

“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.

“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”

“You mean about the therapy?”

“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.

He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”

“For what?”

“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.

“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.

“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.

You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.

You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”

“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.

How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.

“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”

“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”

“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.

He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”

“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.

“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”

His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.

“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”

You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”

You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.

Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”

Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.

“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.

“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.

“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.

“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.

“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”

His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.

It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.

“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.

But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?

“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”

“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.

“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”

“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.

“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”

You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”

“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?

“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.

“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?

Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.

“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,

he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.

“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.

Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.

“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.

“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.

“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.

“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.

You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”

Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.

“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”

Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.

Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”

“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”

Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.

“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.

Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”

“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”

Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”

Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”

“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.

“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”

You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.

“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.

Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.

And you certainly delivered.

He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.

“I can’t do this-”

“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.

“-tonight.”

“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?

But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.

Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.

The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.

You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?

You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-

Can we talk?

Yes.

Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.

That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.

When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.

“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.

“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.

You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?

You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.

“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.

“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.

“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.

“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”

“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.

“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.

“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”

“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.

“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.

“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.

“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”

Joel looks at you perplexed.

“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.

“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”

“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”

“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.

“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.

“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.

“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.

“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.

“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.

“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.

“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.

“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.

“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”

“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.

Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.

You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.

“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.

You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.

It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.

You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.

How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?

Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?

Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?

You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.

You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.

You let him, because you are a weak person.

You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.

You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.

You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.

You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.

And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.

“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”

There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.

You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.

“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”

“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.

You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.

Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.

“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.

“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.

“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.

His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.

“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.

“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.

“Why didn’t you insist?”

Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.

“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.

“I didn’t want you to.”

“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”

You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.

Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.

“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”

“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”

“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”

“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”

“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”

“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?

“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”

“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.

“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”

Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.

“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”

“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”

“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.

“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.

Him.

What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.

“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.

“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you. “Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.

“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”

“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.

“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”

“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”

You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.

“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”

His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.

Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.

“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”

Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”

“What?”

“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.

“Ridiculous..”

“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”

“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”

“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.

“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.

“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.

“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?

You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.

“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.

“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.

Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.

“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.

“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.

You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”

His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.

You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.

You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.

I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.

“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”

“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.

“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”

“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”

“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”

“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.

“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”

“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”

Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.

“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”

Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.

Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.

Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.

Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.

You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.

Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.

You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.

“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.

Oh.

“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

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kkami-writes · 2 days

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waiting for us — chapter fifty one. the wedding cw. smut!, semi-public sex (bathroom), piv, protected sex (shout out to condoms) wc. 1,965 + 4 ss a/n: THIS IS UNEDITED. I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED THIS MY GOD. I'm so sorry this took forever...that's my bad <3 hopefully the motivation keeps rolling and i'll finally finish this fic.

The ceremony had been perfect, something right out of the pages of a fairy tale. The venue had been small since they had kept it to close family and friends but it still had been breathtaking. Minghao had made you his best “man” and there was no place you’d rather be than next to your best friend on the most important day of his life. (and if you cried while they were reciting their vows, you’d never tell. Though Minghao had taken plenty of pictures of you ugly crying to store in his blackmail folder.)

It was probably inappropriate to daydream during a wedding, but Jeongin couldn’t help himself. You were standing up there, looking absolutely breathtaking, it was hardly his fault that his mind had wondered what you would look like, dressed in all white at their own wedding.

If he was honest, he never expected to get married. Well, he supposed that’s wrong. While he does in fact plan on getting married eventually to all his soulmates, before you had come into the picture that had agreed that a ceremony between eight people would be a little hectic. He didn’t need some grand ceremony to show his love but for now, he could dream of seeing you in a wedding dress for now.

The reception is just as gorgeous as the actual wedding, with lavish decorations and a crystal chandelier.

Currently you were being dragged from table to table, both Minghao and Jun introducing you to people like you were their child. (though Minghao would argue that him and Jun were indeed your dads).

From across the room you can feel a pair of eyes on you, practically burning a hole into your flesh from his heated gaze. Jeongin was sat at your assigned table, a drink forgotten in front of him while he stared you down. His gaze is enough to set you aflame, cheeks reddened from how intense his eyes felt against you, not so subtly running along your body. The boy was practically eye fucking you from across the room, not a shameful bone in his body. It was quite distracting as you tried to introduce yourself to Jun’s grandmother.

The two of you make eye contact and it’s impossible to look away, his deep chocolate eyes captivating you. Jeongin’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, your eyes following the movement and the cheeky fucker smirks, knowing he’s caught you in his web. With a subtle nod towards the bathrooms, he gets up, suddenly paying you no mind before striding in the direction he directed you to. It leaves you a little mystified, blinking and frozen in place. You clear your throat, turning to Jun with a small smile.

“Excuse me Junnie,” You mumble before escaping the male’s grasp, but he lets you go easily enough, too caught up in a different conversation.

As you make your way towards the bathrooms there’s a sense of heat that starts to fill your lower belly, a wave on anticipation for whatever Jeongin has up his sleeve. It fills you with excitement, hands practically shaking as you open the door.

The bathrooms are one of those fancy single ones, lights dim and fancy expensive soap. You don’t have time to admire the decore as Jeongin pins you back against the door, the tell tale click of the door being locked. He doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours, practically devouring you. It’s all teeth and tongue, groaning into your mouth desperately. The sound goes straight to your pussy.

Jeongin presses against you, already hard in his slacks, hips rutting up against you.

“Fuck. Do you even know how good you look?” His voice is raspy and deep, sounding already so gone. You can’t help but giggle, rather enjoying the effect you have on the boy.

“Mm, I have no idea,” You singsong. “Maybe you should tell me,” Your words illicit another groan from the boy before he’s picking you up and carrying you over to the counter and setting you down there. Perhaps the way he had lifted you up like it was nothing turned you on further, it would seem your baby bread has been accompaning his hyungs to the gym more often.

Jeongin runs his hands up until they’re splayed across your thighs, easy access thanks to the slit in your dress. His lips are on yours again, this time much softer, taking his time to savor your taste. Meanwhile his hands grope and squish at the soft flesh of your thighs, fingers running up until they hook under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles.

You let out a gasp as his long fingers make contact with your wet core and Jeongin takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your awaiting mouth. You’re completely at his mercy, deft fingers circling your clit and his tongue stealing your breath away.

“So wet,” His voice is deep, slightly gruff as he nips at your now swollen tiers. “Eager are we?” The cocky tone makes you want to roll your eyes at him, but they’re rolling to the back of your head anyway as he easily slides a digit into your core, a whine falling from your lips. “Look so good like this for me,”

You can vaguely hear the sound of the music that’s blasting in the venue, the walls of the bathroom muting it but even then, the sound of your slick echoes lewdly in your ear and it heats your body up.

Jeongin is so content like this, watching you fall apart on the counter, soft moans filtering from your lips as he’s lazily thrusts his fingers into you. As much as he would love to take his time with you, his cock is starting to ache, still trapped in the confines of his slacks.

“Can I fuck you baby?” He asks against your ear, pressing soft kisses to your earlobe and trailing them down your neck. You nod your head, probably a little too eagerly but there’s pretty much nothing on your mind besides Jeongin’s cock splitting you in half. But then you remember something important and it makes you whine.

“Innie…you don’t have a condom do you?”

The question makes him freeze and if he wasn’t literally two fingers deep in your cunt you would have laughed at his bewildered facial expression. But then suddenly he’s pulling out of you, a whimper leaving your lips at the loss of his fingers filling you up. Jeongin is frantically patting at his slacks, as if searching for something, leaving you slightly baffled at the sight. Finally he pulls his wallet out and from it, produces a singular condom.

“Seungminnie hyung said I should keep one in my wallet just in case…never really thought anything about it. I’m gonna kiss that man later,” His words make you snort, shaking your head at how silly he is. But if you were honest, you’d probably kiss Seungmin later for the same reason.

The two of you don’t waste anymore time, remembering you are in a public space, at your best friends wedding for goodness sake. In your defense, your brain is no longer working, especially when Jeongin is bending you over the (very nice) counter, moving the skirt of your dress aside and slipping your panties down your legs.

You arch your back just slightly, legs spreading to give the boy a peak at your glistening folds and Jeongin swears he could probably cum in his pants. He’s quick to slide the condom over his almost painful erection, coming close to press his chest to your back, trailing kisses along your shoulder. He ruts his cock against your soaked core before positioning in front of your entrance. With how aroused you are, it’s an easily glide in, just a slight stretch that feels all too good.

Jeongin lets out a borderline pornographic moan when he bottoms out, your wet warm heat squeezing his cock feels heavenly and he already knows he’s not gonna last very long. He shudders against your body as he holds you tightly, large hands splayed across your torso.

“Fuck- You feel so fucking good,” He groans, needing just a second to calm himself down before he blows his load already. You can barely register his words, not faring any better. The sensation of being so full, of having your soulmates cock buried inside your heat is a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to.

The two of you simply relish in the moment for a second and while maybe Jeongin might have jumped the gun on your first time together, he promises that the next time he’ll take his time to savor you. For now he just wants to feel you coming apart on his cock.

He moves his hips rather expertly, rocking into you with strong thrusts and you feel yourself further melting into the cool counter, the drag of Jeongin’s cock against your gummy walls feels too fucking good. Any and all thoughts are leaving your head, the only thing you care about is the heady pleasure that builds steadily in the pit of your stomach.

Jeongin is pressed flush against your back, sucking marks into your skin and whispering sweet dirty words into your ear and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak.

“Such a good girl, hm? Taking my cock so well. You feel so good baby…I’m not gonna last long,” He nips at the back of your ear and you nod your head in agreement.

“Innie! I-Innie…” You’re mumbling his name over and over like a chant, your walls clenching around his length sporatically. “I’m so close…gonna, gonna cum,” You gasp out, the rubber band threatening to snap each time the tip of his cock hits that spot deep inside of you. He brings a finger to your clit, rubbing the swollen button in circles.

“Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock,” He says with a grunt, thrusts somehow getting even harsher and the sound of skin slapping reverberates against the walls.

It doesn’t take much longer before you’re gushing around his cock, coming with a whimper. Jeongin does his best to fuck you through your orgasm but with the way your walls clench around him has him spilling into the condom not too far after you. Both of you need a moment to catch your breath, slowly coming down from the euphoria of such an act. Jeongin seems to collect himself before you, not even noticing him pulling out. You only finally come out of your haze when you feel something damp against your skin.

Jeongin is cleaning you up, even if he didn’t cum inside, you can still feel your own release against your thighs. Slowly, he also helps you pull your panties back up before picking you up to settle you on the counter. He fusses over you, smoothing your hair down and fixing your dress and your heart flutters in your chest at how attentive the younger boy is after having just dicked you down. You giggle before wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a sweet kiss, one that he happily melts into.

When you two pull away, he’s giving you that bright fox-like smile, dimples practically blinding you as he helps you off the counter.

“C’mon baby. Let’s go dance and hope that your friends didn’t notice your disappearance,” You snort.

“Even if they didn’t, I think the hickies speak for themselves,” Jeongin has the gall to blush, his tongue running along his teeth.

“Sorry, not sorry,”

“You are such a brat,”

“Guilty!”

You roll your eyes, spanking him before moving towards the door.

“Let’s go dance baby bread,”

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#stray kids #stray kids smau #skz smau #stray kids social media au #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #skz texts #skz fake texts #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz social media au #skz smut #stray kids smut

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dreamauri · 18 hours

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♪ — 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗞 - part six max verstappen x fem! driver! reader (fluff) “. . . this is what they call: puppy love.”

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direct messages: LANDO + Y/N

y.ln

liked by pierregasly maxverstappen1 and 35.6k others y.ln sup Malborne, it's een a while. i brought a friend this time!

user GURL WHERE ARE YA GOING??!

landonorris oh look, its me😊

user SHE BROUGHT THE PUPPY!! IT'S MY LUCKY DAY ⤷ user trust my instincts, i was correct to get us those tickets ⤷ user SHARE THOSE INSTINCS NEXT TIME!! I COULD'VE MET THE MAN HISELF

user that dog is living abetter life than me and my ancestors

ausgp MARSHMALLOW!! can i pet 😍 ⤷ y.ln maybe if you bring a ball for a game of catch 🤔

user SHE RODE WITH MAX!! ⤷ user and lando* ⤷ user lando third wheeling probably

scuderiaferrari hey there 👀👋 ⤷ y.ln its my week off, dont you dare ⤷ user y/nnnnnn 😭😭

carlossainz55 a get together without me?😔 ⤷ y.ln i had no choice, it was Malborne or certain death

user something about max and y/n traveling with marshmallow . . . ⤷ user i wanna see footage of max and marshmallow interacting, I NEED TO SEE ⤷ user the interaction would most likely contain pure chaos

y.ln posted on their story

direct messages: CARLOS + Y/N // CHARLES + Y/N

(translation at the very end)

twitter

carlos + y/n: I dont feel like driving with ferrari this weekend - i hate you - where are you? I have coffee The medbay on the circuit - you want trimasu? Yes and painkillers

charles + y/n: - hey charles y/n, hi -hi No, hi* -anyways :( - are you in the hospitality. I was told you were 30 min ago Yes, Do you need anything - can you check with one of the mechanics if they have my racing gear? We always have the reserve driver’s gear Why? Are you driving this weekend - hopefully not Why? You’re an amazing pilot You inspire a lot of people - i know i know, but its the aus gp - i'd rather just watch, i came here to have fun anyways - i dont want to deal with strategies and battling and just racing overall - no offense or anything I understand, you already do a lot in hypercar Which you’re doing great in, by the way If you need anything, come see me. I’d love to help - thank you charles :) Of course, I owe you. You did so much for me in f2 and f3 its only fair! I’ll get your kit and tell your team. Do you want some coffee? Two milk? - thank you charles X)

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eddies-house · 3 days

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TW: mentions of bad mental health

im imagining eddie being absolutley taken back when he finds out how people have previously treated you resulting in hesitation when being vulnerable with him.

and he's been through some shit, he's not exactly one to be voluntarily vulnerable either but with the tables turned it's like a moment of oh. like you're hiding from him, muddling your own emotions as a means to keep the peace.

he realizes that coming in strong, asking "what's wrong?" almost too oboxiously like he's previously done, only chases you further into your mind, it only insinuates that there are consquences if you were to answer so rather than being met with honesty, it's always "nothing" followed by forced smiles and sucked back tears that he's regrettably brushed off in those moments, trying to keep you comfortable. but while his intention to ease your chaotic mind by simply moving on had no ill intent, he soon recognizes the harm its caused and the pattern he's assisted in creating.

realizes he takes it far too personal when you shut down on those particularily bad days, thinks it's cause of him, only to contribute to the self destruction taking place in your mind when he continuously begs the questions "what's wrong?" "what do you want me to do?" "what can I do?" "come on, tell me what's wrong". he never understood that he was never the issue but he quickly made himself into one by nearly berating and prodding you with his questions. and then one day he sees it. sees the way your eyes go dull when he asks.

sees the front you put on, "everything's okay" while your lip wobbles. he doesn't take it personal this time, there's nothing distracting him from the obvious signs, the symptoms of broken hearted individual struggling to keep up despite the aches and pains that linger within. its a heartbreak he's so familiar with yet seems to be so blind to in others, thinking he's the only one to experience it, not selfishly but hopefully. so he straightens up and silently tells himself to quit all of his bitching because this is bigger than him, it's not because of him. you need him and he's been too insecure to think that maybe words aren't required, not by you anyway. there is no quick fix, no remedy to just stop the pain like popping an ibprofen or slapping on a bandaid, it just is. raw pain and vulnerability that should be allowed to be felt, not cured.

so this time, he recognizes the wall you put up, just like every other time though it was previously ignored. before he can even say anything, he knows you're anticipating his bombarding questions that have no answer. sees the way you tense up, the slight panic in the way your fingers tremble at the prospect of being figured out. except this time he speaks softly, a shake in his voice because he's terrifed to scare you off once again. says "i love you" then gently wraps you up in his arms, provides a barrier between you and the world you're at war with.

holds you on the kitchen floor, face pressed to his chest with a mixture of tears and snot.

runs his fingers down your spine delicately.

whispers "it's okay" when he knows it is in fact not, only hoping you're able to decipher that he means it's okay that you're not okay, it's okay that it's 1AM and while the world is asleep you're both tangled up on top of crumbs and possible neglected coffee stains

apologizes.

because for all those times you've coaxed him through an unwarranted episode, he's been neglecting you at your worst. not on purpose but it's neglect nontheless. and he knows all about it.

sings under his breath when the sobs have stopped wreaking havoc on your body. quiet hums of a familiar song, you are my sunshine.

tucks you into bed, makes you a late night snack cause he knows your appetite fails you in times like these, kisses your forehead and threads his fingers through your hair.

he's not perfect nor has he ever desired being held to such a high standard. but for you he wants to try.

#im not projecting :')#no way #is this therapy?#crying in the club y'all #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you

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concreteangel92 · 6 hours

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Be careful what you wish for

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: Cum play, mentions of spanking, dom/sub relationship, slight humiliation kink and degradation kink (not too heavy) male masturbation, just Noah being a typical brat tamer

So this is kinda filthy even for me ahaha but it’s not massively detailed as it’s a head canon styled piece but I am working on proper detailed works as we speak so hopefully I will get those out soon.

This actually started as an idea from the other fic I’m writing but it didn’t fit into that scene properly so I decided to make it a separate piece so the thought wasn’t wasted haha and fyi the story I’m currently writing has definitely been inspired by the new tour content, that’s absolutely feeding me right now 🥵

•You’ve been playing up all day and winding Noah up in front of people when he’s been working

•Just genuinely being a brat because you found it funny that day

•That’s fine but Noah would 100% punish you for it when you’re alone

•You’d be face down on the counter, underwear round your ankles while counting each spank he delivers

•But what’s one more dig?

•”That the best punishment you got? I’m getting bored of it now”

•Those spanks would instantly stop

•”Is that so?”

•Oh yeah, he’s pissed now

•You’d feel Noah’s grip on your hip tighten and hear the sounds of his trousers hitting the ground

•”Spread your legs”

•Noah would have a deeper growl in his voice, clearly not impressed with your attitude, but that’s ok, he’s happy to take it up a notch just teach you a lesson

•You’d feel his fingers scissor you open with a dark chuckle “bored are we? Do you want to tell that to your dripping cunt”

•That would most definitely pull a low moan from you, now Noah loves dirty talk, but to be that vulgar is very rare, even for him

•You could feel movement behind you and hear the sounds of him groaning and skin slapping on skin

•”So my punishments aren’t good enough eh?…” You could hear his words get caught in his throat, you knew he was touching himself behind you, his other hand now not leaving your hip

•”Well lucky for you…shit….I’ve got the perfect punishment for your cocky little attitude”

•You’d keep your head on the counter, pussy aching to be touched but you know that’s not going to happen any time soon

•“Did I forget to mention….that the guys will be here…any….any minute for the afternoon?”

•Noah hadn’t mentioned that they were all coming round for a gaming afternoon, you suddenly felt a sense of fear at what he had planned

•Noah’s groans became louder as he sped up his pace, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer

•”fuck..I’m gonna cum”

•You’d feel him release onto your heated core, Noah would quickly bring your underwear back up and press the material into your folds, making sure not to let any of his juices slip out down your thighs

•You’re eyes would go wide, a choked moan escaping your lips as you now knew what his punishment was, it felt so wrong and dirty but fuck me were you turned on

•You’d hear Noah fix his clothes and then he’d grab you by your throat, bringing your back onto his chest so he could talk into your ear

•”let’s see how cocky you are walking round with my cum in your pants, and don’t think you can run away and hide baby. You’re going to sit with us until I say otherwise, is that clear?”

•”I’m in a dress, what if it…slips out?”

•You’d receive a hard smack to your ass and then Noah turned you around so he could stare down at you

•”You should have thought about that before you decided to be a brat and telling me that my punishments are boring”

•Noah grips your chin and gives you a hard kiss

•”Be careful what you wish for baby”

•That’s the moment you’d both hear keys in the door and the guys walking in with pizza boxes, Noah pulling your dress back into place and stepping away from you

•You’d do your best to walk normally and act all innocent when everyone started chatting, trying to sit without anything ‘leaking’

•Your cheeks would have a permanent blush for the afternoon

•All the while, that cocky smirk never left Noah’s lips as he stalked your every move

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #noah sebastian davis #dom noah #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian imagine #noah bad omens

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ivantillz · 1 day

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kiss me;

ivantill, 8.7k read on ao3

For a second he just stood there dumbly, eyes wide open. He heard a gasp from the side then a whispered, “I thought they weren’t actually supposed to kiss here?” Till hadn’t prepared himself for this, but he knew he couldn’t risk ruining the scene even more. Eyelashes fluttering, he closed his eyes and cupped Ivan’s face, kissing him back with fervor.

Till couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Surely he had misheard, or maybe he hadn’t actually woken up this morning and he was still dreaming.

His manager looked as real as ever, though, staring at him with a hint of knowing amusement. He couldn’t stand her sometimes. (He loved her.)

“I thought you’d be excited,” she sighed dramatically, crossing her arms. “I guess maybe we should consider pulling out of the movie and – ”

His hand jerked out without his permission, fast as lightning, grabbing her arm. “Don’t even joke about that, Mizi.”

Her answering grin was all teeth. “They’ll want to do a chemistry read, first,” she put her hand over his. “Don’t get too excited. Nothing is guaranteed yet.”

For all they knew, he wouldn’t even get cast. Or if he did, maybe they’d kick Till off the project and replace him if their chemistry wasn’t promising enough. He really hoped it would be. But either way, he would be meeting him.

Till felt himself grinning before he could stop it, “I’m meeting Ivan.”

Till couldn’t recall the exact moment he discovered Ivan. To be fair, most people probably couldn’t. He was everywhere, it seemed – commercials, movies, television, even music videos.

What he could recall – as clear as if it’d happened yesterday – was the feeling he had felt. It was like a dam had opened and there was no stopping it. He realized he wanted more out of life.

He didn’t just want to continue being an extra on every set, the side-character who was killed off after one or two episodes.

Since then, he’d been able to build a decent name for himself. He wasn’t Ivan, by any means, but he was well-known enough to get the lead in an upcoming highly anticipated movie. And if the universe smiled upon him, just one last time, he would hopefully get to have Ivan as his love interest.

“I am running on exactly two hours of sleep, by the way.”

Mizi snorted, side-eyeing him. “I can tell,” she teased, and he knew it was just that: a joke but he still couldn’t help the sudden rush of insecurity.

As if sensing it by some form of magic, she slowed to a stop in the hallway and took his arm.

“You look great, Till. You haven’t even gotten makeup done yet and you still look amazing.” She squeezed his arm. “You’ve got this, you know that, right?”

He forced a smile. “Don’t you know confidence is my middle name?”

And usually it was true. If there was one thing he had over most of his competition in the industry, it was overflowing confidence.

Mizi smiled back, far more sincere. “Come on,” she said, tugging him along gently. “We don’t want to be late.”

Before the chemistry read, he went to get his makeup done as scheduled. Hyuna was no better than Mizi, grinning wildly as she gently applied a bit of concealer under his eyes.

“Let me guess,” she said, “didn’t sleep much?”

Till rolled his eyes, but made sure not to move. “I wonder if every actor has such a nosy makeup artist or is it just me?”

“Hmm, I would say you’re just lucky.” She winked and stepped back. “You look good enough to eat.”

He snorted. If he wasn’t so nervous underneath it all, he might’ve cracked a joke. Like how the only person he wanted to eat him was —

The door swung open, startling him. “Come on – ” he relaxed when he saw it was just Mizi. “We only have a few minutes.”

Quickly stumbling out of the chair, he rushed to her side and followed her into the hallway. As they walked toward the room set aside for their scheduled chemistry read, Mizi looked him up and down, not even trying to be discreet. Till made sure no one was around before quietly flipping her off.

Couldn’t tarnish his reputation and all that.

She giggled, light and airy. “I was just going to say,” she bumped their shoulders together, gentle, “you look good. Don’t let anything bring you down, okay?”

And he knew it wasn’t just empty words; Mizi had been there for him since the start of his career, long before he’d managed to actually make a name for himself. She’d been there with open arms (and an extra large pizza) every time he’d been turned down from a role, every time a casting director had scoffed like he was hilarious for even thinking he had a chance.

It had been hard, then, but motivating. He never wanted to be underestimated ever again. He thought he’d never feel so scared again, walking toward an audition room. It was a pointless fear. He had joked but surely they wouldn’t actually try to kick him out, even if the chemistry read wasn’t a success.

“Break a leg,” Mizi whispered just as they stopped in front of the door.

Till could hear voices through the wood. He concentrated and tried to see if he could pick out Ivan’s voice, in the sea of them, but he wasn’t sure if he could trust himself. He thought he heard him, a familiar drawl he had heard on television a million times, but he could’ve just been imagining it.

Mizi glanced at him, a silent question. He just nodded.

Without another word between them, she turned and opened the door.

Till didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath as his eyes scanned the room: it was all the usual people – the casting director sat at the table with two other staff members on each side, a few other stray staff members were scattered around the room.

In the middle of all of them was Ivan.

He was smiling politely as others talked to him, a small quirk of his mouth. Till must’ve stared for a second too long because suddenly Ivan was lifting his head and their eyes met.

Till had seen him a hundred times, at least, through a screen but he wasn’t sure anything could’ve prepared him for this moment.

For seeing him, here, like this, in real life. Ivan was even more stunning in person.

Ivan’s smile stretched just a little wider, barely noticeable. Till should’ve smiled back but he felt like he was frozen.

“Okay,” the casting director – Luka – stood up from the table. “From what I’ve been told, this is your first time meeting, correct?”

Till didn’t even realize he was addressing them until Mizi gave a gentle nudge at his side. He flushed, standing a little taller. He might’ve been meeting his idol, for lack of a better word, but he was still a professional.

“Yes,” he answered, cursing the slight shake to his voice.

Ivan nodded. “I’ve seen him plenty, of course, but never met, no.”

Till felt a shiver down his spine. Ivan. Ivan had seen him before, too, which shouldn’t have been surprising. He had been on a number of notable series by now, but for some reason he still hadn’t been prepared to hear it.

“Wonderful,” Luka said, “Everyone – ” He did a little twirl with his finger, making a point to address everyone in the room. “Out.”

Till knew the process by now. Luka’s process, at least. He could be a little unorthodox. Usually he didn’t mind it, but right now he was already starting to feel sweat pool at the small of his back.

Mizi let out a tiny huff of amusement as she helped to herd everyone out of the room. Last to go was Luka, who didn’t even say a word before closing the door.

If Ivan was confused, he didn’t voice it. For a moment, the room was silent with just the two of them.

“Sorry,” Till said eventually, clearing his throat. He dared a glance in Ivan’s direction; he was standing just a few feet away, a thoughtful quirk to his head. “Luka can be a bit, uh. Unorthodox in his methods. He always likes to give actors a few minutes by themselves before starting the read.”

He was proud of himself; his voice was steady and clear.

Ivan hummed, but still didn’t say anything. Till took advantage of the moment to really look Ivan over. He was beautiful; dark hair swept back with a few loose strands, eyes lined with black – not too much, just enough to somehow make his dark eyes look even darker, his lips shined with a thin layer of gloss, skin clear and perfect.

The way his mouth was twisted, Till could even see his fang. Not literal, of course, it was just his canine – especially sharp and pronounced – but it had always been one of his selling points that fans seemed to like.

He looked like he was conjured up in a lab somehow.

And Till, well. He wasn’t naive. He knew he was attractive – wouldn’t have gotten this far in the industry if he wasn’t – but he felt lacking compared to Ivan, more than he had in a long time.

Without thinking, he reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. But the wild look was part of his appeal, Hyuna had always said. Made him stand out.

“Are you going to keep staring at me or actually introduce yourself?”

Till startled, yanking his hand out of his hair hard enough he winced a little. He opened his mouth, ready to apologize, but then he saw Ivan was smiling. Barely, really, more like a smirk.

Clearing his throat, he wiped his hands off on his jeans in what he hoped was a discreet move (he was still sweating like crazy) and stepped forward. “Why should I introduce myself when you apparently already know my name?”

He froze as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He was so stupid.

This was Ivan – the Ivan – and here he was already messing everything up because he never quite knew when to shut his mouth. He waited, expecting the worst. He wouldn’t have even been surprised if he’d pushed him out of the way and stormed out of the room.

But instead Ivan did the complete opposite. He gave a little laugh, eyes crinkling just a little around the edges. Till felt something warm blossom in the pit of his stomach.

“I haven’t had someone talk to me like that in, well, ages.” His eyes were still sparkling when he finally stopped laughing. He extended a hand. Till moved quickly before he could think too hard and just make himself more nervous. Ivan’s hand was warm, smooth.

Till knew his own hands weren’t nearly as smooth, from playing guitar. It was just a hobby he had picked up on the side, nothing more, but his hands still suffered for it.

“You must play an instrument,” Ivan said, startling him. For a moment, he wondered if he’d accidentally spoken his thoughts but then Ivan tilted his head. “Guitar?”

Till swallowed around the lump in his throat; Ivan’s thumb gently moved over his knuckles, once, fleeting, before he was pulling away. Maybe he’d imagined it. “Yeah. Um. Just a hobby.”

“I would love to hear you play, if ever given the chance,” Ivan said. Normally, Till would’ve brushed it off as empty words but there was something oddly sincere about the way he said it.

He dropped his gaze, focusing on the collar of Ivan’s shirt. Anything to make sure he didn’t keep staring at his face. “Yeah. Sure.”

Before he – or Ivan – could say anything else, the door was opened without even a knock. Till spun around as Luka entered the room followed by the rest of the staff and finally Mizi alongside a woman he didn’t quite recognize. He wondered if she was part of staff and somehow he had just never noticed her until now.

That question was answered quickly when she went to Ivan’s side. “You’ve totally got this,” she said, hushed but just loud enough Till could hear.

He wondered if that was true. Didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Okay, since I’ve given you both more than enough time to get acquainted.” Luka nodded at the scripts on the table. “Go ahead.”

Till forced his hand to not shake as he reached out and grabbed his version of the script; the part they’d be rehearsing, today, had been highlighted. It wasn’t too long. He just had to get through the scene without any mistakes.

He skimmed through it quickly, saw Ivan doing the same, even though they had both already read the script. Ivan, possibly only one or twice, but Till had read it nearing a dozen times.

So how did he manage to forget what happened at the end?

They didn’t kiss, not in this scene, but they almost did and that was enough to have Till suddenly rethinking everything. You’re a professional, he reminded himself, and tried to believe it.

He had certainly kissed plenty of people on set by now but admittedly he had never found any of them quite as alluring as Ivan.

Still, this was a chance to prove himself. He wouldn’t let that get in the way of doing his job properly.

“We don’t have all day,” Luka said, as impatient as ever.

Till resisted the urge to glare at him and simply set the script aside; it wasn’t frowned upon to read from the script during chemistry reads, of course, but he had the entire thing memorized already.

Ivan probably hadn’t been able to memorize it in such a short time but Till was surprised to find he set his script aside as well. He was always called an acting prodigy by media, the best the industry had seen in ages, and it seemed like it went beyond just a good performance on screen.

They both stepped closer to each other, waited until Luka gave the final nod.

All jokes aside, Till really was a professional. He felt like he was a different person when he got into character. Immediately he felt his eyes start to sting, his bottom lip tremble a little.

“You lied to me,” he said, voice thick with emotion.

It was surprisingly easy to look Ivan in the eyes all of a sudden. Ivan stared back just as intensely, reached for his hands. He held them, loose and gentle. “You know I didn’t have a choice.”

Till jerked his hands away. “But you promised me.”

“I know, I know,” Ivan’s eyes were glossy too, brimming with so much emotion Till had to remind himself they were acting. He couldn’t remember ever having to do that before. “But I need you to trust me, okay?”

Till swallowed. “I – I don’t know if I can,” he whispered, just loud enough for Luka and the others to hear.

Ivan frowned, looking thoughtful for a moment. “How can I convince you to trust me?”

He opened his mouth, closed it, cursed himself because – he’d fucking forgotten the line. How could he have forgotten the line? He dared a quick glance at Luka, who was watching him with slightly narrowed eyes.

He was so screwed. Ivan was definitely getting the role, no doubt, but not before Till was probably kicked off the project.

And now he was so nervous he was shaking a little, hopefully not enough to be noticed by Luka and the others but there was no hiding it from Ivan, as close as he was.

So much for being a professional.

Maybe it would be better just to get it over with and admit his mistake, take whatever consequences would follow, even if that meant being kicked off the project. Even if it meant not getting to work with Ivan.

But as soon as he opened his mouth, Ivan surged forward and kissed him.

For a second he just stood there dumbly, eyes wide open. He heard a gasp from the side then a whispered, “I thought they weren’t actually supposed to kiss here?”

The only thing that followed was silence, but Till knew the answer; he might’ve forgotten his line but he still remembered how the scene ended – Ivan’s hand on his neck, thumb stroking his jaw as he begged him for one more chance.

Not a kiss, but something close. The actual kiss came far later in the script.

Till hadn’t prepared himself for this, but he knew he couldn’t risk ruining the scene even more. Eyelashes fluttering, he closed his eyes and cupped Ivan’s face, kissing him back with fervor.

It was like something out of his wildest dreams but also not at all.

After a few seconds, he dared to open his eyes, surprised to find Ivan already staring back at him.

Suddenly Ivan was pulling away, turning toward Luka. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away.”

Till licked his lips, flushed when he realized what he’d done and quickly pursed his lips into a thin line to ignore the urge to do it again.

“Well,” Luka looked torn between amusement and annoyance, “I supposed you were going to kiss him eventually one way or another.”

Till blinked as the words settled. “Wait, you mean – ”

“Don’t get too excited,” he interrupted, already standing, “but you should be optimistic.” Weirdly, he said it while staring at Till like he was the one auditioning for the spot, not Ivan. There was no way he knew, right? Or maybe he was letting him know he was going to be kind enough to ignore his obvious mistake. “We’ll call you once we’ve discussed it and made a final decision.”

Till watched as Luka left with the staff, not even giving them a glance back. For once, he was thankful to be ignored.

Once they were gone, Mizi rushed to his side. “Are you okay?” she asked, side-eyeing Ivan skeptically.

He appreciated her concern, as always, but he was fine. If kissing strangers was an issue for him, he probably would’ve picked a different career path, but even those kisses were usually planned for and this wasn’t, which was jarring, yes, but he wasn’t upset.

Ivan’s manager was at his side, too, looking at him with disapproval. Till wondered how often he did unexpected stuff like that.

Finally he brushed her off and stepped forward, closer to Till. Mizi pursed her lips but didn’t intervene; she really was the perfect manager for him.

“I apologize,” he said, giving a slight bow. “I shouldn’t have done that without warning, but…”

He trailed off, and Mizi finally spoke, “But?”

But Till already knew the answer. Ivan smiled, but it wasn’t mean. “You forgot your line,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Mizi startled, glancing at the script still laid out on the table. “An honest mistake. I didn’t want you getting chided for it, and I thought it’d work as a good enough distraction.”

It certainly had. Till could still feel the press of his lips – plush, but just a little dry.

“You did that for Till?” Mizi asked, sounding skeptical. Till couldn’t blame her; people in the industry rarely looked out for each other like that, nevertheless strangers.

Ivan nodded, his smile growing just a little wider. “I guess you could say I’m intrigued.” He extended a hand and Till took a second too long to move, realizing his intent. Ivan squeezed his hand. “I look forward to working together.”

Till envied his confidence. Technically, nothing was confirmed yet. But even he knew it wasn’t up in the air. Luka just liked making people sweat.

“Me too,” he said.

“Did you see Ivan’s manager?” Mizi asked the next day. Shooting wouldn’t start for a few weeks but she came over often just to hang out.

Till blinked. “The girl with the, uh, blue hair and piercing stare?”

He didn’t miss the way her mouth twitched, forming a smile for only a second. “Yeah.”

Till had recognized that smile, however brief. He looked back to the television. “You should go for it.”

“Wh – what?” she stammered, nearly spilling their bowl of popcorn. “I don’t – I mean – ”

He grinned, side-eyeing her. “I always knew you were into the stoic types.”

“She wasn’t – ” Mizi pursed her lips, looking down. “When you two were doing the read, you know how we all left? Well, we talked some.” Her cheeks were flushed, nearly the same shade of her regularly-dyed hair. “She was nicer than you’d think, looking at her.”

Till wasn’t sure how much he believed her. Everyone was nice to Mizi. She was just that kind of person. You would have to be pure evil to be mean to her. “I trust your judgment,” he said instead, reaching out and squeezing her arm.

She peered at him from under her eyelashes. “But what if it complicates things? Especially when you’ll be working with Ivan for the next few months. And I mean, I don’t even know if she’s, you know.”

“And you’ll never know if you don’t ask,” he replied, making sure to soften his voice. “And don’t worry about me, okay? I can take care of my own shit.”

Till was confident. It was something Mizi always said she admired about him; he knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to work for it.

But he was also well-aware of his own shortcomings. He could be testy and impatient, and didn’t always take being corrected or criticized well.

“What if I say something wrong?” he whined, standing in front of the oversized mirror in his living room.

Mizi glanced up from her phone. “Then you – and I know this is an abstract concept to you – but you apologize.”

Till glared at her through the mirror. “And what if he says something wrong?”

“You wait it out,” she replied just as easily. “I mean, he seemed nice enough at the chemistry read.” She set her phone aside, seemingly done with it for now. “He didn’t have to help you like that.”

Till felt his cheeks grow warm just remembering the kiss. In the moment, he had been able to control himself, too caught up in making sure he didn’t ruin the scene more or – worse – lose his role. But now, looking back, he couldn’t quite believe he had kissed Ivan.

It was always going to happen, Luka was right, if Ivan got the role but somehow that didn’t make it any easier to believe.

And he had gotten the role; Luka had called him this morning with the good news. After that, Till had thought about texting Ivan, congratulating him. They had exchanged numbers for a reason.

But he couldn’t quite work up the guts to do it.

He must’ve waited too long because eventually a text had popped up on his own phone from ‘Ivan’. (He had debated adding a heart before realizing that was asking for trouble.)

“Since we’ll officially be working together,” it had read, “I would like to get to know each other better.”

Till had mulled over how to respond for so long he had eventually texted Mizi instead for help. With her help, he had responded back with a simple, “How about brunch?”

He still wasn’t sure people actually used the word brunch in real life but he had trusted Mizi more than himself in the moment, and either way it worked out because Ivan said yes.

He said yes with a little :) to be precise and Till felt like his heart was going to burst. He was playing a dangerous game, he knew, letting himself feed into this when they were coworkers, nothing else, but he couldn’t help it.

And Mizi was enabling it.

After their conversation, Mizi had invited herself over to help him get ready. Fair enough, because without Hyuna he wasn’t really too sure how to do much more than throw on a shirt and jeans.

She had helped him with some basic makeup – a bit of eyeliner and gloss – then picked out his outfit for him, which he still wasn’t sure about.

It was brunch, after all, but she had picked out a long-sleeved silky blue shirt and black jeans. He felt a little overdressed but she had assured him it was perfect.

“I should get going,” she announced, tearing him out of his downward spiral. She jumped off the couch and walked over, peering in the mirror alongside him. “You look hot.”

Till snorted, shaking his head. “I used to dream of you hearing you say that.”

And it was true; when they had first met, when his career was still new and fresh, he had immediately developed a crush on her. Now, he was glad they were just friends. Now, they were so close it didn’t even feel weird joking about it.

Mizi winked playfully and patted him on the back. “Just be yourself.”

That was what he was afraid of.

Mizi left after that, which was expected – it was only an hour until Ivan was set to arrive – but being alone didn’t help his nerves at all.

Nearly exactly on the dot, Till’s doorbell rang. Old-fashioned, really, because most people just texted when they arrived.

Smoothing his shirt down in the mirror, and reminding himself this wasn’t a date, he walked over and opened the door.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been the only one to get dressed up. Ivan wore a long-sleeved black shirt, tucked neatly into dark blue slacks. His hair was swept back out of his face; if he wore makeup, it wasn’t obvious enough for Till to be able to tell but either way he was as stunning as ever.

Till realized – belatedly – that he had just been staring at him without saying anything for at least a minute. Flushing, he stepped out of the way, a silent invitation inside.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, Ivan was saying, “I almost feel bad for what I’m about to suggest,” he smiled, small, “considering how good you look.”

Till blinked once, twice. “Oh. Um. What?”

Stupid. He was so stupid.

“You obviously got dressed up intending to go out,” Ivan continued, still smiling with a hint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, “which I know we discussed, but…”

Till swallowed; why was his mouth so dry? “But?”

“But,” Ivan tilted his head a little. “I can’t speak for you, of course, but getting recognized in public is daunting.”

Till was suddenly reminded of their differences. He’d been recognized a few times, sure, but undoubtedly nothing compared to what Ivan went through. His face was plastered everywhere – billboards, magazines, commercials – so no wonder he was tired of getting recognized everywhere he went.

Even if you didn’t know Ivan, you’d at least seen his face. And most people can’t control themselves around a celebrity, regardless of personal interest.

“I understand,” he said finally, not sure what else to say.

Ivan smiled a bit wider. “So do you mind?” Till wasn’t quite sure what he was asking, but thankfully he continued before he could make a fool of himself. “I know it must also be daunting to have a stranger in your apartment.”

The dots connected quickly, suddenly. Till didn’t even have to think about the answer. “I don’t mind at all,” he said, but then, “I just – well.” Warm in the face, he gestured weakly at his kitchen. “I don’t have much.”

“No problem,” Ivan was already pulling out his phone. “We can just order something.”

That was how they ended up on his couch, shoes thrown off, eating a pizza. It was oddly comfortable, even though Till kept catching himself staring at Ivan’s mouth.

It was hard not to remember the kiss. It had just been part of the script, albeit a little early. Not to mention, Ivan had only done it to save him from making a complete fool of himself.

But it was still hard to forget, or brush off. After all, Till had admired him (and possibly had a crush on him) for so long. He never imagined just meeting him, nevertheless anything more.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Ivan’s seemingly innocent question was what finally drew him back to reality.

Till startled, nearly dropping his slice of pizza. It was starting to get cold anyway. “Um. No. I mean. Your face is fine.”

He winced at his own words, cursing himself internally.

Ivan smiled – no, that was a smirk. “I’m glad to hear you think my face is ‘fine’.”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t – your face is more than fine,” Till stammered, even as he cursed himself more with each word.

For a moment, there was silence and Till was sure he had finally properly screwed things up. But then Ivan threw his head back and started laughing hard enough he shook the couch a little.

Once he quieted down, he gazed at Till with a crooked smile. “You’re funny.”

Till flushed. “I’m sure you hear that kind of stuff all the time.”

“Mmm,” Ivan tilted his head back and forth. “Yeah, but people are usually a lot more suave about it.” When Till frowned, he nudged him with his foot. “That’s a good thing. I prefer when people don’t try so hard.”

Till couldn’t fight back a smile even if he tried. “Oh.”

“I was gonna suggest we do a readthrough of the script tonight but,” Ivan checked his phone. “It’s getting late.”

Till tried to hide his disappointment. He was surprised how much he’d enjoyed Ivan’s company. He had hoped he would, of course, but he was never sure how these things would go. Like mentioned, he didn’t always get along with people easily. And Ivan was, well, Ivan.

Famous, beautiful, rich. Till expected him to be a lot more conceited or snobby. Most of the famous people Till met were like that, after all, but not Ivan. He was sweet. A little odd, but wasn’t everyone?

“Are you free next Friday?” Ivan asked.

Till didn’t even have to think. If he had plans, he would just have to reschedule.

“Um, probably,” he said, aiming for casual and probably failing.

Ivan smiled again; he had one fang that Till was starting to think was unfairly adorable. “We can meet, then, go over the script.”

“Sounds good.” Amazing, actually, but he didn’t dare seem too eager, even though he was starting to think Ivan wouldn’t mind.

“Soooo,” Mizi slung herself over the couch ungracefully. “How did it go, hmm?”

Till snorted, pushing her out of the way to sit down. “I – ” His smile fell. Mizi was quick to adapt, sitting up properly. She had always been good at adapting to his moods. “I think I might be screwed.”

“What?” she leaned in closer. “Did he do something?”

Till appreciated her concern, as unfounded as it was. “No, he was… he was great, actually. We ate pizza and talked about a lot of nothing. He mentioned coming over next Friday so we can actually go over the script.”

“So… what’s wrong?” She was frowning, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He couldn’t blame her.

He sighed, peering down at his hands folded together in his lap. “I think I could really like him, Mizi. Like… a lot.”

The thing was, he had never really liked someone before. He had certainly never dated. Beyond his short-lived crush on Mizi, passionate as it was, he had never even gotten the urge to date, or even do what a lot of other actors did and sleep around casually.

And now he was worried if he spent too much time with Ivan, that might change. Turn into something more than a crush from afar.

For a long moment, they were both silent. Finally, Mizi reached for his hands, cradling them gently.

“You are a really good person, Till.”

He rolled his eyes, an automatic response. She squeezed his hands harder.

“You always undervalue yourself, Till,” she continued, and he couldn’t look away from her determined gaze. “You act overconfident to make up for it, but I know you too well for that. You don’t know think someone like Ivan could ever like you but you fail to realize he’d be lucky to have you.”

He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “I – ”

But she apparently wasn’t finished, “I met with Sua.” She paused for a moment, like she was realizing something. “Ivan’s manager,” she clarified. “We really hit it off. She cares for Ivan like I care for you, I think.”

He just nodded, unsure where this was going but happy for her either way.

“I probably shouldn’t say this, it isn’t my place but,” she smiled, small, “I will, because I think you need to hear it. Apparently Ivan can’t stop talking about you. Sua said he’s never been so interested in another person. She even asked me about you.” Her smile widened a bit. “I only said good things, of course. I knew she was just worried.”

Till couldn’t believe it. He had also never known Mizi to lie, especially about serious stuff.

“But I – I can’t,” he stammered, looking down at their hands. “Even if he was interested,” which was so hard to believe he almost felt like he was dreaming, “I can’t risk it.”

Mizi ducked her head, forcing her eyes to meet again. “Why not?”

“You know why,” he said, and he wasn’t even embarrassed that he sounded like a petulant child. “I would be risking the movie. If we had a fight or – or broke up, I don’t know if I could pretend like nothing happened.”

He was making a lot of assumptions anyway; assuming Ivan was interested in something more, when maybe he just wanted something casual or temporary. But still the details didn’t matter. Either way, Till knew he couldn’t go back to acting like only coworkers.

“Till, I know you care about this movie,” she smiled again but there was something sad about the curve of her mouth, pitying. “But sometimes life is about taking chances. You can’t just depend on your career for happiness forever.”

He wanted to argue because he couldn’t find the words. Mizi squeezed his hands even tighter. It was almost painful but also oddly comforting.

“What if you got a role a few years from now – your dream role – but then suddenly you were kicked off the cast.” Till waited, knowing she wasn’t finished. “You would be devastated, obviously, but you would be even more devastated if you had to go home to an empty apartment.”

Till licked his lips; when did they get so dry?

“Plenty of people are satisfied never having a partner. Dating.”

Mizi rolled her eyes. “I know that but I also know you’re not one of them, Till.”

She really did know him too well. “But we’re both famous, Mizi, and he’s – he’s a household name. If we dated, we couldn’t keep it from the public for too long. Someone would find out.”

“And that is something worth discussing,” she finally released his hands, choosing instead to squeeze his wrist. “With him.”

Till suddenly felt like crying. He didn’t, but his eyes burned. “What if we’re wrong? Even Sua?”

“Then you can come to me and cry it out.” She smiled, warm and sincere.

It was a decent enough backup plan. Without warning, he lunged forward and hugged her. “Have I said recently how you are the best manager in the world?”

“You don’t have to tell me, I already know.”

Till decided not to rush it, even if Mizi suggested texting Ivan and setting a closer date to see each other again.

When Friday finally rolled around, he felt like he was going to be sick.

He made a point to not dress up, just a pair of his usual jeans and a black t-shirt. If this was going to happen, he wanted to be sure it was because Ivan really liked him. Not because he thought he looked good enough to settle for.

A few minutes after 12, his doorbell rang.

Brushing by the mirror without looking, he opened the door. Ivan had apparently had the same thought; he looked as gorgeous as last time, obviously, but he was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans too with a thin jacket. His hair also wasn’t slicked back, hanging loosely around his face.

He also had a bag, probably to carry around the script and whatever else he might need.

Like last time, they ordered food and ended up on the couch. This time, however, they had the scripts. Till noticed a ton of highlighted parts in Ivan’s copy; maybe he shouldn’t have assumed he just had a natural gift for memorizing things. He had obviously worked just as hard.

For a while, they just rehearsed through the easy parts. Didn’t bother acting any of the parts out just yet.

Most of that stuff – gestures, movements – would be changed before they actually started filming anyway so Till didn’t usually worry about it, just focused on the actual dialogue.

But then they flipped the page and Till saw it: the scene where they kissed. The actual scene.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. When Till finally chanced a look up, he noticed Ivan was already looking at him.

“Do you usually practice these parts?” Ivan asked.

Till tried to decipher his voice, his expression, but it was all perfectly neutral.

“Sometimes,” he answered, because it was true. “Makes it less awkward later.” But other actors preferred keeping any kissing strictly in front of the camera. Till didn’t really have a preference.

Ivan hummed thoughtfully. “Well then, I’m up for it, if you are.”

He could almost hear Mizi in his head, telling him he shouldn’t do this. He should confess, first, otherwise it wasn’t fair. To him or Ivan. And he would confess tonight. He had already made that decision but…

Couldn’t he be just a little selfish first?

“Sure.” Understatement of the century.

Collecting their scripts, Till set them aside on the coffee table and was relieved when Ivan made the first move to scoot closer. He still couldn’t quite read his face, perfectly blank.

“Let me know if you want to stop,” Ivan said, a hand already reaching out and settling on Till’s neck, warm and heavy.

Till was pretty sure Ivan could’ve done anything to him in that moment and he still wouldn’t have asked him to stop, but he appreciated the sentiment.

Not trusting his voice, Till just gave a tiny nod and that seemed to be enough for Ivan. He leaned forward, slowly, like he was giving Till the chance to stop him if he wanted to.

He didn’t.

Finally their lips touched, just a gentle press. Ivan’s lips were even softer than he remembered, warmer too. The script didn’t detail the kiss; that would be decided later with help from the director but – Till supposed Ivan was preparing for everything as he tilted his head, pressing their lips together with a bit more fervor.

Hardly complaining, Till kissed back, scooting a little closer. That should’ve been it. Given the scene, it was doubtful the kiss was going to be anything more than this.

But Ivan didn’t pull away, and Till wasn’t going to be the first to end it.

Opening his eyes, he finally wasn’t surprised for once to find Ivan already staring back at him. What was difference, however, was the look in his eyes. Intense, but somehow warm.

Till felt a shiver down his spine and decided this was it. Words had never been his specialty. Moving quickly, he shifted up onto his knees and swung a leg over Ivan to settle on the other side, kissing him the entire time.

Only once he was settled, straddling him, did he finally pull back. “Is this okay?”

Ivan’s eyes were always dark, nearly black, but this was something else. “Depends,” he replied, low but steady. He lifted his hands, placing them on Till’s hips. “Is this okay?”

Instead of replying with words, Till just leaned in and kissed him again. This kiss was immediately different from the first, filthy and almost aggressive. Ivan bit at his bottom lip, just the edge of too hard, and Till let out a sound in the back of his throat that was outright embarrassing.

He only pulled back for air when he absolutely had to, panting a little to catch his breath. Ivan’s eyes were half-lidded; he somehow looked the best he ever had. Till swallowed. This was his chance.

“I have something to confess,” he forced the words out before he could reconsider.

Ivan blinked, once, almost immediately looking more alert. “What?” His hands shifted on his hips but didn’t pull away. “Do you want to stop?”

“Quite literally the opposite,” he replied, feeling nearly delirious. This was it. “I know this is – probably not what you want at all, and I’m probably reading too much into everything, and – and I know this could get in the way of the movie, I’m not an idiot, but I think I would really regret not saying it.”

Ivan squeezed his hips, then, and it was enough to make him feel a little more grounded. “You’re kind of scaring me here, Till.”

He stared at Ivan for a moment, appreciating every detail of his face, before he took a deep breath, “I think I could end up liking you.” He paused, letting the words settle properly in the silence between them. “A lot.”

Till wasn’t sure what he was expecting. The silence lingered so long he was starting to feel an ache in his chest.

Without a word, he went to move off Ivan’s lap but his hands tightened around his waist. “Stay,” he said, the softest Till had ever heard his voice.

“You don’t have to try and – and placate me,” Till stammered, but he didn’t try to move again. “I’m not gonna be mad at you for not feeling the same way.”

Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. Till watched his face flicker through about ten different emotions before suddenly he was kissing him again, hard and messy. Till gasped into his mouth, surprised – confused – but hardly disappointed.

He curled his fingers in Ivan’s hair, eyelashes fluttering. He could do this forever. He also knew he needed a real answer.

He deserved that.

Mustering all his courage, he pulled back. Ivan stared up at him with a newfound intensity. He forced himself to speak around the lump in his throat, “I’ve admired you for a long time. I know that might not be – appealing, in this context. But I don’t think that has anything to do with what I’ve felt since we met.”

Ivan continued to stare at him. Till gulped.

“You’re just not what I expected,” he paused. “In a really good way, and I’ve never done this before. Not just with another actor. Or, uh, coworker. I mean, like at all.”

The corner of Ivan’s mouth started to quirk up. “You’re cute.”

“Oh.” Till flushed. “Thank you?”

Ivan let out a soft laugh; gently, he moved Till off him. Under different circumstances, he might’ve overthought what that meant but Ivan was still smiling, warm and small.

“Are you asking me out, Till?” he asked, not even trying to hide the mirth in his eyes.

He supposed he was, in a way. “I mean, that’s – that’s assuming a lot. I just, I wanted to let you know. I didn’t – ” He hadn’t expected anything, he meant to say, but he suddenly stopped, finally connecting the dots. “Wait. Does that mean – ?”

Ivan leaned against the back of the couch, watching him with that same sparkle in his eyes. “I liked you the second I set my eyes on you,” the confession felt like igniting fire in Till’s very core. “I wasn’t sure why, at first. I’d never felt that way before, and we barely knew each other.”

Till didn’t dare speak; he didn’t trust his voice anyway.

“But you’re… different,” Ivan hummed. “I can’t quite put my finger on it.” He smiled, that fang poking out again. Till wanted to feel it against his lip again. “And frankly, I don’t really care to.”

He paused, reaching out. Till didn’t even think twice, moving as if commanded by something out of his control. Ivan held his hand gently, thumb pressing into his knuckles, not hard but comforting. Grounding, like he somehow knew Till felt a little untethered.

“But I’m assuming you know by now I can’t promise you this won’t get out. Even when you’re surrounded by people you think you can trust, it’s not quite true in our line of work, is it?”

Till had already went over this in his head. “I don’t mind. I think it’s worth the risk.”

“We should at least keep it between us,” Ivan said softly, and Till wasn’t sure yet what he was going to say next. If he wanted to keep this hidden because he was ashamed or embarrassed to be seen with him. But then – “Just until the movie is done shooting. I don’t want them to project or assume anything just because we’re together.”

Till nodded. “I agree,” he said, meaning it. It was the smart move. “And if anything happens, if this doesn’t work, I need us to be on the same page.”

“I hope we won’t have to worry about that,” Ivan replied, “but the fact you even want to discuss it...” He smiled again, almost approvingly. Till didn’t want to admit how much that did for his confidence. “I promise you won’t have anything to worry about from my end. I could even give you something to use against me, if it would give you peace of mind.”

Till let out a sudden laugh, surprised by the odd offer. But just as Ivan kept saying he was different, he was starting to think Ivan’s oddness was what had really captivated him. “I’ll just have to take your word for it,” he said, still smiling.

They never ended up having to worry about. Months later, when the movie was wrapping up, they all celebrated by having dinner at Ivan’s house. The place had always been beautiful, from the very first time Till had seen it, but now it felt more like a proper home.

Pictures lined the walls that used to be empty, mostly of the two of them, but some were just of Till. He complained about them, sometimes, embarrassed but secretly he liked it.

Some were of all of them – Ivan, arms wrapped around Till. Mizi and Sua, heads tilted together.

Till was pretty sure he had died and gone to heaven. Or maybe he just should’ve been more hopeful when he was younger because sometimes he still struggled to believe this was real.

Sitting at the table, Ivan on his left and Mizi on his right, he wondered what he had done to end up lucky enough to have met both of them.

Or maybe Ivan was right, as he always liked to say: “You deserve good things, Till.”

Till still remembered the first time he’d said it when they were laid out in his bed. He had kissed Till’s forehead and he had suddenly felt the urge to cry, eyes burning.

Maybe, just maybe, he was finally starting to believe it.

“Can you believe they still haven’t figured it out?” Mizi was saying, giggling around the rim of her wine glass. “’How is their chemistry so good?’” she said, repeating what the director had said earlier.

Till hadn’t really heard him. He’d been too busy kissing Ivan with as much fervor as he kissed him every night. He supposed there were benefits, actually, to dating your costar.

Sua smiled at her side. “You can’t blame him. I’m surprised they were actually able to keep it hidden until the end of filming.”

Till chanced a glance at Ivan, who was already staring back at him. He smiled. Ivan smiled back, giving a nod.

“About that, actually,” Till cleared his throat. “We are planning to disclose that we’re dating. Not how long, obviously, but… we thought it might make things easier, especially since Ivan can’t stop complaining about wanting to take me places and not being able to.”

Mizi smiled, shifting to take Sua’s hand where it was resting atop the table.

“We’re happy for you.” She glanced at Ivan. “Both of you.”

At the end of the night, Till was surprised to have Mizi pull him away from Ivan’s side. She walked them to the edge of the porch, grasping his hands tightly in her own.

“I know this is going to be cheesy and you’ll hate every second of it,” she said, “but I just really need to say it.”

Till tilted his head with a confused smile.

“I used to worry about you.” She squeezed his hands tighter. “You always acted like you were fine on your own but I just – I could tell you had so much love to give and for a while I almost felt guilty, turning you down.”

Till tensed, already opening his mouth, but she continued, “I know you never wanted me to, and you never did anything to make me feel that. I promise. It was just – normal concern for a friend, okay?”

She gently shook their hands, smiling now. “But now I see you with Ivan and… Till, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”

He couldn’t fight the smile off his own face, small and sincere. He stared down at their hands. “I – ” He paused, swallowed around the lump in his throat. He hadn’t even said this to Ivan, yet, but somehow it felt right. Saying it, now, to Mizi first. “I think I love him.”

For a long moment, there was silence. When he finally glanced up, Mizi wasn’t looking at him. She was staring over his shoulder, eyes a little wide, and –

He dropped her hands and spun around. Ivan stood there, frozen with his hand in the air like he had just been about to tap his shoulder. Mizi squeaked and scooted past them, rushing to join Sua at the other end of the porch.

“I was going to ask if you were cold,” Ivan said, dropping his hand. It was chilly out, middle of autumn now, and Ivan knew he ran cold. The simple but sweet gesture made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest.

Till just nodded, not trusting his voice. Ivan shucked off his jacket and moved to wrap it around his frame.

“I didn’t want you hear that,” Till said finally, clutching the jacket to keep it from falling. “I was going to tell you soon. Just needed the right moment. I know it’s probably too soon or I don’t know, I don’t really know how to gauge these things – ”

Ivan moved, smooth but fast, wrapping an arm around his waist and drawing him in close enough to tip their foreheads together. If he remembered they still had company present, he didn’t seem phased by it. “I don’t believe in there being a right time for anything,” he breathed softly. “I love you, Till.”

He smiled so big he knew his cheeks were going to hurt later. He didn’t care. Happiness was worth it. “Good,” he said before cupping both sides of Ivan’s face and kissing him.

It reminded him a lot of their first kiss but this time the roles were reversed. Ivan seemed surprised for just a second before he smiled against his lips, tugging him even closer.

When they separated, Till was breathless. He wasn’t complaining.

“I hate to say this,” he let out a shaky laugh, still catching his breath, “but I think we need to send a thank you card or something.”

Ivan raised an eyebrow, searching his face. “To who?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he replied before moving in to kiss him again. He heard Sua’s groan from across the porch. Ivan laughed against his mouth.

A week before they left for their first vacation, just a couple days after the news of them dating had hit the media, Till went to the store and picked out a card. It was the vaguest card he could find in the store, just a simple “thank you” with a smiley face on the front. He signed it just as simply – Ivan and Till – and left it like that. He trusted Luka to figure it out.

#alnst #ivantill #alien stage #alnst ivan #alnst till #ivantill fic #mywriting

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astroyongie · 17 hours

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What are you choosing ?

Note: hey everyone! This is little something that I have constructed in a way for you to see if you really know yourself but also as a way to heal and understand your inner desires and needs. This is a part of what we call shadow working, hopefully it will help. you are free to do this quietly, or if you want to share with me, feel free to do so <3

How it works?: please choose one option between the two and try to argument within yourself why you chose that

This or that ?

Question 1

an apology from your father

a hug from your mother

Question 2

being loved

being able to love

Question 3

your father choosing family over work

holding your childhood pet one last time

Question 4

a good night kiss

your hair getting brushed and braided

Question 5

the ability to forgive yourself

finally being heard and understood in your family

Question 6

“i am proud of you” from your mother

“i love you” from your father

Question 7

reading you favorite childhood book for the first time

a letter from that one friend you one day never heard from again

Question 8

crying in your mother’s arms

yelling at her all the things you were too afraid to speak out loud

Question 9

not feeling constantly lonely

not feeling constantly misunderstood

now please choose one number between 1-6. pick the one that you are currently feeling most attracted to. and read your message:

1- Yeshe Tsogyal: you will be able to overcome all of the obstacles you are currently facing. allow your spiritual guides to guide you through this and trust the process, the path that you are in. surround yourself with the people you know bring you only light into your life, allow yourself to trust them more and to trust yourself as well. by working on your spiritual side you will be able to overcome your shadow self.

2- Yogoni: Of course there’s a lot of changes happening in your life at the moment, but keep in mind that sometimes a door will close in order for another to be opened. trust your path and tell yourself if thighs aren't meant to be because life is trying to limit the pains in your life. stay faithful to yourself and your healing oath, as long as you stay authentic to yourself, you will be able to overcome things

3- Terra Mater: your mental and spiritual path does not unfold like most people, it is taking a different way but you need to trust the process, as your spiritual guides love you unconditionally and they will help you find peace of mind. follow the new ideas and accept the changement that is happening in your life. your manifestation is strong, use it wisely. you know that goal you have? grasp it. Even if people say that it's stupid and impossible for you to have it, don't let it go and fight for your desires.

4- Beatitude: don't be afraid to show the true you. The only way to heal your inner conflicts and the pain is by accepting and loving who you are. even when things seem so hard to reach, keep walking down the rightful path and trust life. all the difficulties are going to bring you to wisdom and the right path.

5- Biche: You are only a child that has been hurt. I am so sorry that you had to go through this hard thing. but your energy is able to overcome all of this negativity. you don't need to become something that you are not, your spiritual light is already warm and soft. keep yourself true to your inner core and things will become easier

6- Volva: your spiritual power can heal your dark self way better than what you think. It's time for you to travel through the spiritual world and engage yourself more. don't try to control what is happening and allow it to unfold before you. instead work on something tangible, on something that will help you healing from all the pain you have suffered

#this or that #psychology

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loveyazy · 2 days

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Hi! So I haven't read acotar (well a little bit but it didn't hook me) but I've been reading your posts about the upcoming book and I'm so curious, I don't know these characters but the second hand gossip is fun and I'm rooting for them lol when does the book come out? when will it be announced who the protagonists are?

JSHDKAKJSD I had written so much on my phone but then I closed all the apps and I lost it so hopefully I can remember most of it still.

The thing is it's OBVIOUS it's going to be Elain. She has even said in this interview x at 25:00. I don't know why people genuinely think GWYN is going to be the next book 🫠. Her purpose was to help Nesta. Outside of that, there is not much left to tell of her story. It's done. TBH, I completely forgot she even existed after I finished reading ACOSF. Like I kept seeing posts about her on my insta discover, and I was like who tf is Gwyn? 💀

Also just... ELAIN IS THE THIRD ARCHERON SISTER. How can it NOT be about her when Feyre had the first three and then Nesta had the fourth? Like it's so painfully obvious. Anyone who thinks otherwise is just delusional.

Even if it's not Elain and it happens to be Mor, it's NOT going to be Gwyn before Elain LMFAO.

But this is why I think it's going to be Elriel and not Elucien.

Firstly, Koschei the Deathless. The story follows Ivan marries his THREE SISTERS to THREE WIZARDS.

Ivan saw his three sisters wed to the first suitors who came across them—wizards in the form of birds.

Hmmm THREE SISTERS. BIRDS >>>> BATS. 👀

Eventually Ivan goes on to defeat Koschei with the help of his sisters and their husbands.

And then we have another Koschei retelling. The FOX and the FIREBIRD. Listen Sarah was not subtle with the names. Vasalisa >> Vassa. Lucien had a fox mask in ACOTAR, making him the obvious fox. You can read more on it here but I'm going to do a quick summary.

A king has a garden that produces one gold apple a day, but it was stolen every night. He promised half his kingdom to whichever son could catch the thief. He has three sons, and they all tried to catch it. The third son saw the firebird and shot at it, and hit the bird in the wing, but it escaped and left behind a golden feather. The king wants the fire bird and promises whoever brings the fire bird alive would get half the kingdom and be the heir. So they all go out to find the Fire Bird, and they all encounter a Red Fox.

The fox approaches each prince, and asks for something to eat, but the first two shoot at it. The third prince shares his food. So the Red Fox takes him to the palace where the fire bird is and tells him how to grab the fire bird by putting it in the wooden cage, not the golden. Well, the prince says how can a lovely bird be in a wooden cage and proceeds to put it back in the golden, but then basically sounds an alarm and he gets arrested. The King tells him to bring him back a golden man.

The fox says he'll help the prince, but of course the prince is a dumbass and goes I'm gonna choose the pretty one instead of the one the fox told me to choose and he gets arrested and this king says bring back Princess Goldilocks from the Golden Palace in the Black Sea.

Anyways it goes on and the third brother is betrayed by his other two, and the fox brings him back to life. In the end he gets the kingdom, the firebird, Goldilocks, etc. The fox is very instrumental in this story.

SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVEN'T READ ALL OF ACOTAR

We have hints that Lucien and Vassa are very close. They talk to each other. Plus they live together along with Jurian.

Plus if it was going to be Elucien there would be hints that Elain even had romantic feelings for him. Even a little attraction. She doesn't. She literally stares at a boiling tea kettle until he leaves because she doesn't want to spend any time with him.

She wants nothing to do with him. And yes sure she says she doesn't want a male, but remember that she is still dealing with the traumatic events of being forced into the cauldron and being changed.

This though, happens a year later with Azriel...

Imagine seeing this in the most recent book, and thinking they're like siblings. Sounds like the antis have some sort of incesty weird freaky ass sibling relationships. 😬

This also happens in the book, which I believe is during the same time? But Az's was a bonus chapter and this was available to everyone.

Elain is not herself around Lucien. I don't understand how anyone can see their relationship and think that's going to be endgame. This was the most recent book.

Even before ACOSF, Nesta and Cassian had this in the previous book that alluded to their romance.

But there is absolutely nothing to allude to any sort of Elucien romance. Elain wants NOTHING to do with Lucien. And honestly, I don't blame her. Who would? He was a part of the most traumatic thing that ever happened to her.

I'll never understand Elucien shippers. If you like Lucien, why would you ship him with someone who wants nothing to do with him? If you like Elain why would you ship her with someone she wants nothing to do with?

I'm 10000000% convinced the Elucien shippers are just Gwynriels who ship them so they can have their ship justified, but most of their evidence is just their headcanons, and them not being able to read between the lines and interpreting things very wrong.

#pro elriel #anti gwynriel #anti elucien #elriel #pro elain archeron #pro azriel #i tagged these as antis so if you come for me I'm going to ask why the fuck you're here?

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dangerpronebuddie · 1 day

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @tizniz thank you darling 🥰🩵

How many works do you have on ao3?

17! Soon to be 18 (hopefully).

What's your total ao3 word count?

78,569 words

What fandoms do you write for?

Currently 9-1-1 and previously one or two chapters on a Sherlock fic my sibling started YEARS ago.

Top 5 fics by kudos:

1. Lost Control And Rang Your Bell

2. To The Core (I Love You)

3. What Breathing Feels Like

4. Baby, I'm Never Gonna Leave You

5. Our Shoulders Touch, There's A Moment

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I try to get every single one 🥰

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Yet to be published 😉. Published though, probably Baby, I'm Never Gonna Leave You. It's not angsty per se, it's more ominous.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I try for happy endings always (it's the Jane Austen in me), but I'd say the fic with the happiest ending would be The Pain Is UnBEARable. Friends to fiances 😁!

Do you get hate on fics?

Once? I really don't know if it was hate or just frustration? I mean, it was an open ending so just... ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ sorry?

Do you write smut?

I'm trying! I posted my first one last week 😁: And Every New Boy That You Meet (He Doesn't Know The Real Surprise) (part 2 is in progress)

Craziest crossover?

Haven't written any.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

God, I hope not.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't think so?

Have you co-written a fic before?

Once. The Sherlock one my sibling wrote. They put me as co-author but the majority is theirs.

All time favorite ship?

Buddie! They have altered my brain chemistry.

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

There's a wip I keep going back to that I have a love/hate relationship with. The scenes and the lines and the descriptions are some of the best I think I've ever written. But the premise is iffy at best. We'll see. If I can get a solid enough plot and if Buck gives me an explanation for what the hell he does in that fic, I might finish it.

What are your writing strengths?

Hmmm... I've been told a lot of my fics feel like episodes and the characters' voices are pretty good. So I guess the pacing of my fics? (Which shocks me because I really suck at pacing my original works).

What are your writing weaknesses?

Description. I just don't do the long and beautiful descriptions or the super detailed whump scenes very well. It takes practice, but it seems to be a talent I just don't have.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I like it, but I don't do it very much. I don't want people to tell me I'm an idiot for getting something wrong.

First fandom you wrote in?

Sherlock.

Favorite fic you've written?

My beloved Hildy fic. I treasure it. It freaking flopped but it is my baby. I love the entire Danger Prone Diaz series so far, but They Say She's Gone To Far (This Time) was so much fun.

Tags: @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway @steadfastsaturnsrings @ronordmann @daffi-990 @wikiangela @thekristen999 @bidisasterevankinard @kitteneddiediaz @actuallyitsellie @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @exhuastedpigeon @spagheddiediaz @theotherbuckley @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie and anyone else who wants to! 🥰🩷 (if I missed you I'm sorry)

#writing game tag #fanfic #my writing

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ultramarine-spirit · 2 days

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Hi, I heard that the donghua Athy will have prophetic dreams instead of being a reincarnated person and that Lucas will probably remain in his adult form all the time( I hope this is not true I want to see baby Lucas but considering the first pv, i think it will probably be true, hopefully not). I fear that their dynamic will change and Lucas is gonna catch pe*o allegations now 😭 even though they were two adults pretending to be kids.

The first thing is pretty much confirmed, going by the donghua's summary, but the details are unclear. I don't know if the "LP timeline" was only a vision or something more, it's too early to tell. As for Lucas only staying in his adult form, I don't know what makes you/people think that?

Lucas was introduced in his adult form in the novel and manhwa, and he is wearing the same outfit in the PV, so it seems to me that that'll be his introduction scene. I guess we'll have to see if he keeps his younger form, but the donghua's summary confirms that they will fall in love, so I doubt the chinese team will suddenly make it weird? (Especially when chinese media is heavily censored, which is likely the reason the plot was adapted to be less violent). Let's also remember that Lucas used his adult form multiple times in the manhwa, so if people disliked that, um, it's nothing new?

I know you mean no harm, but part of me feels like I shouldn’t even address this possible "discourse" because it's way too dumb. Some people have called novel and manhwa lucathy problematic before, for multiple reasons, all of them idiotic, so I'm sure they'll find a reason to dislike the donghua version too. I don't care, and you shouldn’t either.

We should just cancel Claude for the 1000th time.

Almost all isekai/time travel manhwa have an odd aspect since more often than not the protagonist is (mentally) way older than her love interest. No matter what, that's an element the writer can't avoid, but I think lucathy is one of the few pairings where this doesn't happen, because of their circumstances (Lucas slept for centuries so his body's age and his mental age are very different, plus he is a magician. There's no reason to think this will be different in the donghua. And Athy has her whole reincarnation thing. We'll see how that plays out.). Despite all of this, you have no one calling athykiel or other manhwa ships (I could give plenty of examples but I'd rather not) problematic because Athy/the FL is (at least) a (mentally) 30+ yo woman thinking a teenager is attractive. That's because manhwas are not that serious. Unless we are talking about the Princess Mint one. That one was weird and I don't like it.

#that last part is a joke please don't start claude discourse #but lord i would rather take Jennette discourse than this #that was also a joke do not send me your Jennette hot takes #this is not @ you anon. i'm just talking to the void #i think i sound kinda harsh here but wmmap discourse is so 2020. we've been over this. there are opinions too dumb to even address #wmmap #wmmap donghua

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oifaaa · 4 months

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Fun new game I'm playing while watching the new Percy Jackson show called "Was this actually different in the books or is my memory just shit"

#percy jackson #pjo #just with small things like #wasnt it a thing in the books #that all the gods children had designated tables #and its one of the ways you could tell the hermes cabin was over crowded #bc there was hardly any space at the table #i could always just reread the book again to see #but im busy enough rn #so hopefully one of you lovely people will tell me #oifaaaposts

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somnimagus · 5 months

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My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

#legend of zelda #loz #twilight princess #loz tp #i'm still reeling that someone sent me an ask about this one.. that they took the time to find my tumblr and tell me they liked it #it really meant a lot; thank you to anyone that stops to leave comments like that. they make me happy #but yeah! here's the usual symbolism ramble:#i thought it'd be cool to have the 'spirits' flowing one way and the cats walking through them the other way #to kinda show the difference in life inhabiting the village in the past and present #link's face is covered because impaz was just waiting for 'the hero' so his clothes are what matters; not his face #and it (hopefully) gives a surreal and intangible sense to 'the hero' she could only hope would actually show up #you can feel free to interpret the glowy blue sheikah as ghosts or just as memories of the past! i couldn't decide either way #the one on the bottom left is oot impa since she's implied to be the village founder. so i guess she would be a ghost actually?#fan art #my art #project stuff #and ahhh the book-- everyone's stuff is so beautiful!!#especially the writing. some of the fics made me really tear up and some were so fun and clever. i really love them #a lot of them captured the sheer burden of the role of the sheikah; all of the time and grief and doubt #i know i always say this stuff about every project but. the people i get to work with in these are truly so skilled every time

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panharmonium · 5 months

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Hi! I love your Naruto thoughts and meta posts with all my heart and I want to ask your thoughts on something that has been on my mind literally since I was 13: what do you think about the relationship between Sasuke and Sakura? I went from being a hardcore shipper when I was a teenager, to being against any romantic relationship in Naruto after finishing the anime when I was in my early twenties. Nowadays I'm very into platonic love and depictions of friendship and I think the anime's obsession with forcing the "romantic interest" curse upon the main female character robbed us of... so much. There are a few wonderful moments in the anime where Sasuke and Sakura acknowledge each other, but because she's always "the girl with the crush", her actions are so often interpret as irrational or selfish by the fandom.

Hi @riemmetric! It's great to talk to you again! Sorry it's taken me so long to answer this; RL has been making demands of me lately and it took me way longer to finish writing this up than I wanted it to (then again, I knew from the minute I read your original ask that my reply was going to get long, so I suppose I should have predicted a delay XD)

It's funny, my sister once asked me to choose between Sasuke or Sakura for an “unpopular opinion” meme, and I ended up doing Sasuke solely because I think the negative fandom opinions about Sakura are so unhinged and divorced from the actual text that I wouldn’t even know where to start. People are entitled to dislike whatever characters they want, obviously, but there are some fandom takes that are, for me, so obviously rooted in bad faith viewings/readings that there’s no urge in me to discuss them. That said, since you asked, I’m happy to go into my own thoughts on this a bit, with the disclaimer for other potential readers that I only write about fandom things for my own personal enjoyment, not as a contribution to The Discourse. If you don’t like Sakura, great! I have no interest in changing your mind. Please consider this a sincere invitation to scroll on by and go enjoy whatever parts of the fandom appeal to you.

In general terms: I love Sasuke and Sakura’s relationship as much as I love all of the relationships in Team 7. If we’re talking about them specifically as a romantic couple, then I probably fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, because I do like them together in a post-canon (to be clear: non-Boruto) setting, after time has passed and they’ve continued to develop individually and reconnect with each other, but I also wouldn’t exactly call myself an intense “shipper,” in the sense that I have no interest in pulling things out from the text and incorrectly citing them as evidence that Sasuke has hidden romantic feelings for her during the canon period. He cares about her in the canon period, just like he cares about Naruto and Kakashi. That’s not up for interpretation; it’s the text. But Sasuke during the canon time period does not demonstrate specifically romantic interest in anyone.

[A note before people who might ship Sasuke with Someone Else emerge to rail against this statement - please just scroll past and continue enjoying fandom in whatever way is most fun for you. It is cool to ship whatever fanon thing you want; I think that’s great! But earnestly citing any loving or emotional thing Sasuke does re: various characters in this story (yes, Sakura included) as indicative of specifically romantic love isn’t supported by the text. I know there are always going to be enormous subsets of any fandom who insist that it is, and I'm certainly not going to barge into anyone else's space to complain about that (because other people having fun together is harmless and none of my business), but I'm not obligated to indulge it on my own blog, either.]

Anyway, that said - the reason why I love Sakura and Sasuke’s relationship (from here on out I’ll use “relationship” in a general, non-romantic sense) is precisely because Sakura isn’t just “the girl with the crush.” Sakura has an arc when it comes to Sasuke, and its trajectory moves in the exact opposite direction of “irrational” or “selfish.” She specifically goes from “the girl with the crush” to “the girl who steels herself and tries to put her personal feelings for Sasuke aside for the greater good” to “the girl who knows she can’t put her feelings aside, but who also knows full well that Sasuke doesn’t reciprocate them, and who still wants to save him regardless, because he matters to her as a person and a friend.”

[I'm putting the rest of this under a cut to save everyone's dash, and also to emphasize once again that this is a personal post on my personal blog which I wrote in response to a question from a personal acquaintance, the full content of which no one is obligated to read. I am not sending this post to random strangers and forcing them to look at it. I'm not even putting it in the character tags. I'm typing it up on my own blog and putting it under a cut. If you already know that you don't like Sakura, but you still click the link/read the post and then feel an urge to comment and complain, I am going to copy-paste this disclaimer and remind you that I specifically recommended that you scroll past and go have fun with fandom in your own way. Thanks in advance for responsibly curating your own fandom experience!]

So, from the top:

1. the girl with the crush

Sakura is, obviously, completely obsessed with Sasuke at the beginning of Part 1. She’s also deeply clueless about him and his history (bizarre though it is, the story seems to indicate that she initially doesn’t know what happened with his family, the same way young!Obito is initially clueless about Kakashi’s father). But what I like about Sakura and Sasuke’s Part 1 relationship is how this changes over time.

The critical scene that kicks this off happens right at the beginning of the manga, when she and Sasuke are talking by that bench - she complains about Naruto and blames his behavior on him being all alone/having no family to scold him; and even says she’s jealous that he doesn’t have parents to nag him all the time. This obviously triggers an outburst from Sasuke, who tells her she has no idea what loneliness means and that she “makes him sick”/she’s “annoying” (importantly, the exact same thing Sakura said to Naruto in anger earlier that day), which in turn prompts Sakura to reassess herself and wonder whether she’s been making Naruto feel this terrible all the time, too:

From that point on, it’s a process of her putting little pieces together. She still has a MAJOR crush, and she still acts like a twelve year-old, but as we approach the end of Part I, Sakura actually has a more accurate grasp on Sasuke’s current state of mind than Naruto does. Naruto is initially excited to fight Sasuke on top of the hospital, because he feels like Sasuke’s finally acknowledging him, whereas Sakura is the one who immediately recognizes that something is wrong about this situation. She is also the one who, after this fight, is concerned that Sasuke is really unwell and might do something drastic like run off in pursuit of the power Orochimaru promised him, but when she communicates this to Naruto, he assures her that this would NEVER happen:

(Sakura isn't convinced, though, because she goes to monitor the exit out of the village anyway.)

I’m not criticizing Naruto for his response here. I ADORE hearing him say that Sasuke is too strong to need Orochimaru, with such perfect confidence - I love seeing how much respect and admiration he has for Sasuke underneath all their fighting, because that’s the whole reason he’s always baiting Sasuke and yelling at him and claiming “you're not so great!” He looks up to Sasuke; he wants to be like Sasuke; he thinks Sasuke is awesome! (It’s that Obito @ Kakashi behavior, you know?) But the fact remains that he is clueless about what’s actually going on with Sasuke in Part 1, and he remains clueless(ly optimistic) for a long time.

(Eg, when he catches up to Sasuke during the retrieval arc and Sasuke climbs out of that cursed seal coffin, Naruto waves at him and calls "Come on, let's go!" as if Sasuke has been successfully rescued and is now going to come running home. Even in Part II, when Naruto hears that Sasuke killed Orochimaru, he beams and immediately says, “So he must be on his way back to the Leaf Village!” And everyone else in the room is like, “....,” because they know better. Naruto doesn’t yet fully understand [or doesn't want to accept] the extent to which Sasuke has willingly chosen this path, and it’s not until after Jiraiya’s death/the Pain attack/the Five Kage Summit that Naruto really starts to understand Sasuke more clearly, which is something he himself admits.)

Sakura, in Part 1, has access to more information about Sasuke - she’s there for his first dissociative monologue during the bells test, she’s there for the curse mark’s placement, she’s there for his first violent transformation in the Forest of Death - she is, in fact, the unwitting catalyst for it (“Sakura…who did this to you?”), and her compassion is the reason Sasuke is later able to overcome the curse mark’s influence - so she has a more accurate/complete picture of “how he’s doing,” for lack of a better phrase, whereas Naruto, who doesn’t know about the curse mark in the first place, is still in the dark. This means that Sakura is able to accurately discern that Sasuke is struggling more than Naruto realizes, and specifically to predict that he’s going to run away.

(This dynamic is then interestingly flipped in the back half of Part II, since at any point after the Five Kage Summit, Sakura doesn’t have access to extremely relevant [if currently questionable and unproven] details that would in any other circumstance inform her behavior).

Of course, just because she has more info in Part 1 doesn’t mean she has some kind of miraculous insight into Sasuke’s every thought and feeling. There are parts of her attempt to convince Sasuke to stay in the village that are as clueless as any of Naruto’s assumptions, and they showcase the kind of magical thinking common to childhood - like when she says that if he stayed with her, she could give him happiness, she’d do anything for him, even help him get his revenge - this idea that she herself can do something to make him feel better, that she can love him powerfully enough to defeat his pain - obviously none of that is rooted in realism.

Is this part of her approach irrational and immature and inadvertently self-centered? Of course it is! But it’s no more irrational and immature and inadvertently self-centered than Naruto’s stated plan to drag Sasuke back to the village even if he has to “break every bone in [his] body!”

Hating on Sakura for her Part 1 attempt to convince Sasuke to stay in the village while simultaneously lauding Naruto for his feels like a bad faith misread of what is, to me, pretty clear narrative intention. The story doesn’t at any point intend for us to see her begging him to stay as a selfish or conniving attempt to get something she wants. She’s begging him to stay for the same underlying reason that Naruto is: she cares about him. She thinks he’s making a mistake that will only cause him more pain in the end (she’s right) and she wants to make it so he feels less pain right now (she can’t. But she doesn’t understand that/isn’t able to admit that, and she’s willing to try ANYTHING that might help).

It’s critical that this farewell scene is set in front of that same bench from their first important confrontation - she references that day and how angry he got at her, and this time she tells him that she understands his reaction. She’s learned things and she recognizes how insensitive she was being back then (“I know what happened to your clan, Sasuke”), even though she still can’t fully grasp all the complexities of the situation. She tells him that him blowing up at her back then helped her understand what loneliness actually meant (as opposed to her previous shallow understanding of it), and she challenges him about his choice right now: "So that's it, you're choosing the lonely path?" And when she tells him that she'll be very lonely if he leaves, we're immediately shown a panel of Sasuke thinking of both his friends, with the very clear implication that if he goes through with this, he will be lonely without them, too - that he's still struggling with the idea of leaving them, no matter how hard he tries to pretend:

Sakura at this point knows that Sasuke isn’t interested in her the way she is in him, but she still wants to give him happiness, however fantastical and immature her ideas sound to us (and, I’m sure, to him). “I’ll do anything, even help you get your revenge/we'll have fun every day, and...and you'll be happy! I'll make sure of it!” - of course, it’s completely childish. It’s irrational. It’s ridiculous to think that any of this would ever be effective, but no more ridiculous than Naruto’s belief that he can simply break every bone in Sasuke’s body and keep him in the Leaf by force.

Both Naruto and Sakura are children who have a deeply oversimplified understanding of Sasuke’s situation. They both still think they can fix him themselves. They both think they can save him themselves. They both think they can convince (or force) him to do what they want, what they think is in his best interests. Both of them don’t yet understand that he has to want to come back, if it’s ever going to mean anything. Their attempts to keep him in the village are immature and unrealistic, yes. What they aren’t, however, is selfish, because neither Sakura nor Naruto are doing any of this with the intention of advancing their own interests. They’re only thinking about Sasuke - how to keep Sasuke safe, how to make Sasuke happy - even when neither of them are taking an approach that will actually work.

Naruto and Sakura are children. They’re afraid of losing somebody they care about. Their attempts to prevent that from happening are desperate and messy and ultimately ineffective, but they are also genuinely felt and rooted in a true desire to rescue Sasuke from his pain, which - and this is the single most important thing that should impact our viewing of Part 1 - is something that Sasuke RECOGNIZES. He doesn’t spend that agonizingly long moment bowed over Naruto’s defeated body so we can pretend he doesn’t understand that Naruto was just trying to help him. He doesn’t take the time to murmur, “Sakura…thank you,” before laying her out carefully on a bench, just so we can discount it and pretend that he doesn’t recognize and appreciate her genuine intention to make things better for him, however clumsy that attempt might have been.

2. the greater good

If Stage 1 Sakura is "the girl with the crush," then Stage 2 Sakura is a progression to “the girl who decides to put her feelings for Sasuke aside in order to protect innocent people, including (but certainly not limited to) Naruto.” She’s driven to this decision by interactions with Shikamaru, who all too recently had to grow up fast himself (“We're not kids anymore...we can't allow a war to break out between the Hidden Leaf and the Hidden Cloud because of Sasuke") and Sai, who risks his new friendship with Sakura and Team 7 in order to speak some hard truths and deliver one of my favorite lines in the whole story: “I don’t know what promise Naruto made to you, but it’s really no different than what was done to me. It’s like a curse mark.”

(INCREDIBLE. How can anybody be complaining about a season where Sai gets to say something that goes THIS HARD and Sakura LISTENS and takes DRAMATIC ACTION that actually propels the story forward in a meaningful way - )

[Okay, yeah, brief personal opinion interlude - it is just bonkers wild to me that there are people who complain about Sakura in the Five Kage Summit arc. That entire season is the greatest character arc she ever has. Literally she has never been more interesting and dynamic than in Season 10; it’s the first time she ever gets to be as deep and fascinating as the boys; what is everybody so worked up about? Oh, “she lied to Naruto that one time” - Sasuke joined infant-kidnapping baby-murdering human experimentation machine Orochimaru when he was twelve years old in order to (dare I say it????) selfishly pursue his personal goals and yet, somehow, we are still able to root for him. He abandoned his friends/allies to imprisonment and death (Suigetsu and Jūgo) or outright stabbed them in the chest himself (Karin) in order to (SELFISHLY) get what he wanted, and yet, somehow, we are still able to love him, understand him, and be on his side. Naruto is canonically not upset with Sakura about her lie after receiving context for the situation and I think we can probably take our cues from him without feeling the need to bring her up on war crimes; please calm down]

[Sorry, I just really love most of Season 10 and think it’s one of the best examples of how good this story can be when every single character gets to do something that matters (as opposed to things being all Naruto, all the time) so I get a little bit worked up over people complaining about some of the best writing Sakura ever gets. I don’t understand what certain elements of fandom want from her. People complain about her being “useless” and not doing anything that contributes to the story, but then they complain just as much when she does finally get to act decisively and have just as complex/dynamic an inner world as the boys. She’s “weak” for being unreasonably in love with Sasuke, but when she tries to be “strong” and put her love for him aside and eliminate him in order to protect Naruto and the rest of the world, she’s evil, because she should have been more understanding of his situation (despite the fact that she doesn’t KNOW anything about his situation). But then when she can’t go through with killing him after all because she cares about him too much despite the things he’s done, she’s not "compassionate" or "kind" or "a good friend," she’s “weak” again. Nothing Sakura does in S10 is more wrongheaded or rash than any of the batshit, buckwild things Naruto and Sasuke have done in the past (and will continue to do in the future), but when Naruto and Sasuke have big feelings or take bold action, it makes them interesting characters, whereas Sakura can’t breathe in anyone’s direction without being minutely scrutinized for moral impurities.]

Anyway. Back to a more measured response.

Every single piece of development Sakura has with regard to Sasuke in this season satisfies me so much. Her initial shock and disbelief at hearing that Sasuke had joined the Akatsuki? Good, appropriate. The fact that she starts to acknowledge the reality of what Sasuke’s done sooner than Naruto does? Also extremely appropriate, very in-character for both of them. Her taking Sai’s words to heart and deciding that the promise she asked Naruto to make when they were children is causing him to suffer and she has to relieve him of that burden? Juicy! AND thematically significant (promises!!!! the burden that a promise places on a person, especially when it can't be kept - we've seen that before in this story and we'll see it again). Her anguished pivot from wanting to protect Sasuke to realizing that she has a responsibility to protect the countless innocents who will die because of the war he’s trying to start? HELLO THIS IS INCREDIBLE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. Her knocking out the classmates who agreed to help her so they don’t have to share in her burden (and so the only person Naruto will hate when it’s over is her)? BRUH. Her being so committed and focused on her goal of saving innocents and protecting Naruto (not just from being harmed by Sasuke/the Akatsuki, but by the possibility that Naruto will someday have to hurt Sasuke himself) that she tries to take everything on by herself and walks into a confrontation that she absolutely cannot win?? INCREDIBLE. (Literally the first time I watched this, I said, “Finally!!! It’s Sakura’s turn to go off the rails!” I laughed with my sister about how Kakashi isn’t even mad, because Naruto and Sasuke have been pulling stunts like this for years and Sakura was way overdue for her own meltdown.) And then, after Kakashi intervenes in the fight - Sakura barreling back into the battle when she realizes he’s going to take on the burden of killing Sasuke himself in order to spare her and Naruto the horror - “I can’t let Kakashi-sensei bear this burden!” I love her for that.

And then, of course, in the end - her not being able to do hurt Sasuke after all. Despite committing herself to the act, despite forcing herself to put her feelings for him aside, despite resolving to stop him from starting a war and killing innocent people, she can’t harm him. She cares about him too much. This, too, is thematically significant - think about Itachi’s “you don’t have enough hatred” - she doesn’t have enough hatred to kill someone she cares about, even if it seems like he deserves it, even if would be the right thing to do to protect others. She can’t do it, and Sasuke almost kills her for her compassion.

I love the dynamic this sets up between her and Sasuke, for a few reasons:

1) Personally, I think Sasuke respects Sakura much more for trying to kill him than he would have if she’d just tried to talk him out of his behavior or beg him to come home (a la their original confrontation in Part 1). This is the first significant interaction he’s had with Sakura in years, and the fact that she does something SO contrary to his memory of her is an important demonstration of the fact that she’s not the same girl she used to be. Sasuke spends a lot of time after his defection declaring to his old team “I’ve changed; I’m not that person anymore,” but this is one of the moments where he’s forced to acknowledge that his teammates have changed, too. Time didn’t just stop for them when he left. While he was turning into someone new, so were they. They grew up without him, and his old memories of them can’t encompass the whole picture of who they are now.

(This is a little tangential, but in general, I love the spectrum of reactions that Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi have in this sequence, and the way that all of them are ultimately messages Sasuke needs to hear. Sasuke - who we know textually regrets what he did here, who apologizes to Sakura for it later - for “everything,” in fact - needs Naruto’s aggressively optimistic open-arms policy, yes, needs that potential, that unconditional possibility of return. He also needs Sakura’s refusal to let him hurt her friends and start a war that will kill thousands of people, needs her surprisingly ruthless attempt to take him down; needs just as much her failure to do so, because it shows him that she still loves him too much to kill him even as she condemns him. And he needs Kakashi’s grim line in the sand, needs someone who very possibly won't hesitate like Sakura (despite the horrifying personal cost), someone who will try to reach him but also won't let him escape and become the next generation’s Orochimaru, who won't let him cause untold suffering to untold numbers of people just because a teacher loved him too much to stop him when he had the chance.

(And then even Kakashi chooses not to deliver a killing blow when he has the opportunity -)

(I know that in fandom people are more likely to be all, “oh, Naruto Good, everybody else Bad,” but I don’t think the narrative frames Sakura or Kakashi as “worse” than Naruto in any way. The story goes out of its way to make it clear how desperately they don’t want to hurt Sasuke and how much they care about him. And [this is just my interpretation, so obviously I won’t claim it as fact], I personally think that Sasuke - Sasuke, who, looking back, can see how lost he was then and how tortured he would have been if he’d gone through with many of his plans - would be grateful to Sakura and Kakashi for making an attempt to stop him when he couldn’t stop himself.)

2) On the other side of this, the fact that Sakura wasn’t able to deliver the killing blow means a lot. Sasuke was incapacitated under that bridge; he was completely at her mercy - but she stopped with the kunai an inch from his back. She couldn’t kill him, even though she knew that he was completely willing to kill her (because he'd attempted to Chidori-assassinate her from behind just a few minutes ago). That’s huge! Sasuke is too out of his head right now to process this or understand it, but later, it's going to matter. She stayed her hand. She spared his life. She loved him too much to hurt him, even when he’d given her every reason to take him down. She hesitated, and he almost killed her for it, but her inability to strike him ultimately gave him yet another chance to come home, another chance to get better, another chance to have a life outside of his pain. Despite everything, some part of her still hadn’t really given up on him, and that knowledge will matter later, when he’s finally able to acknowledge it.

The point of all this is to say that I really have no complaints about Sakura and Sasuke’s dynamic in their S10 confrontation. This season is the point where Sakura fully grows past her “girl with a crush” stage and into her “shinobi must make very harsh decisions” adulthood, but it never means that she doesn’t care about the person she’s trying to take down. Her ultimate inability to deliver the killing blow remains a dangling lifeline for her relationship with Sasuke, an open door that Sasuke is able to walk through at the end of the story (literally, in fact, when Sakura opens that portal for him and saves him from Kaguya’s desert prison, and figuratively, too, when Sasuke apologizes to her).

3. she only wants to save you

The last stage in their relationship is what Sakura settles into during the war arc. She started off Part 1 being just a girl with a crush, then tried to harden her heart and put her feelings for Sasuke aside in service of the greater good, but she was unable to actually follow through and kill him, and because of that, what she’s come to accept by the war arc is actually two things: that 1) Sasuke truly is willing to let her die if it furthers his goals, and 2) she wants to save him anyway.

She has no intention of pursuing Sasuke romantically. She knows full well that Sasuke isn’t interested in her. She even knows that Sasuke isn’t really on their side (there’s a great scene where Sai questions Sakura about Sasuke’s return, and she reassures him that everything is fine, and Sai sadly thinks to himself “even I can tell your smile is fake”). She’s well-aware that Sasuke didn’t try to help her when Madara stabbed her. She’s well-aware that he left her to die in the lava pit. She’s also well-aware that none of this is enough to make her stop loving him. He doesn’t have to care about her - she still cares about him. She still wants to help him. She still wants to save him.

This is not hidden, hard-to-parse character development. It’s explicitly articulated on the page:

Sakura’s not trying or wanting to make you hers! She only wants to save you.

I’m not sure if people look at this last confrontation and unquestioningly take Sasuke at his word (as if we haven’t just read 71 volumes/watched 700 episodes showing us how how painfully distorted his thinking is), or if they stop reading/watching before the end of the scene, or if they don’t understand that Sasuke saying something doesn’t make that statement an accurate representation of reality. The entire point of this scene is to show us how deeply mistaken Sasuke is about Sakura (and, by extension, the rest of Team 7). He’s locked into a false pattern of thinking. His single-minded focus on revenge and destruction has blinded him to the unconditional love his friends feel for him; he’s become so accustomed to using others and being used that he can’t understand or accept that someone would care about him without needing a reason, without needing him to love them back, without needing to receive something from him in exchange.

Sakura’s not trying or wanting to make you hers! She only wants to save you.

Sasuke matters to Sakura as more than a love interest. He always has. She does love him romantically, yes, but she doesn’t only love him romantically, and her desire to help him is not and has never been contingent on him returning her feelings, romantically or otherwise. Sasuke isn’t able to acknowledge that in this scene, but that doesn’t mean we’re supposed to just sit back and agree with his warped perspective. Kakashi is the one who’s explicitly positioned as the voice of the narrative here. We, as the audience, are supposed to recognize that Kakashi is the one telling us the truth.

[tangential thing 1: You don’t have to love Sakura's last plea to Sasuke here. It’s not my favorite, either - the best part, other than Kakashi’s speech at the end, is the moment after Kakashi collapses when Sakura’s expression changes from pained uncertainty to pure rage, when she grits her teeth together - when I first saw that, I almost leapt out of my seat like “Oh my god. She’s finally going to let him have it. It’s finally happening - ” I wanted that so badly, and I still think it would have been a more effective writing choice for Sakura’s last words to lean more into her anger at the suffering Sasuke is causing all of them (himself included!) and less into yet another of Kishimoto’s “let me have Sakura articulate what a shame it is that she can’t do as much as Naruto despite the fact that I literally just went through a major reveal sequence in the war to show that she’s caught up to the boys; I can’t make up my mind about whether I want her to progress or not” - it’s extremely frustrating (and it's something he does at the very end of the S10 Team 7 reunion, too, which is the ONLY moment of S10 that falls flat for me). But at the same time, even if there are ways this sequence could be more satisfying, it doesn’t change the fact that her plea to him is not remotely motivated by a desire to be with him romantically and not anything to condemn her for.]

[tangential thing 2: I do like how she remembers that moment when Sasuke says “Thank you.” That panel precedes her saying “If there’s even a tiny corner of your heart that thinks about me…” (which I’m sure is one of the things that people like to criticize about this scene, aka “oh she’s sooooo self-centered” etc), but that particular line of dialogue is preceded by that particular flashback panel for a reason: Sakura knows that Sasuke DOES think about her. He thinks about all of them. Sakura remembers that “thank you,” and it reminds her that despite everything Sasuke has done and said since, despite all evidence to the contrary, she knows in her bones that his expression of gratitude back then was genuine. He cared about her once. He cared about all of them. She’s trying to reach the part of him that still does, if it exists.]

[tangential thing 3: The fact that Kakashi says “she suffers from loving you,” and it triggers Sasuke to remember his own family - thinking about how much he suffered (and still suffers) from loving them - “Perhaps…those are the ties to a failed past” - the idea that it’s not worth it to have bonds if it means you suffer this much…that it’s too difficult, it’s too painful, and if Sakura and the rest of Team 7 were smarter they would just give it up (all Sasuke knows how to do now is sever potential bonds before they can hurt him; so why aren’t Sakura and the rest of his teammates doing that, why can’t they let it go, why are they making this so hard - ) << yeah, he clearly doesn't care about her/them at all.]

4. the shadow of my family

This has all been a really long way to answer the original question, but the short response to “What do you think about the relationship between Sasuke and Sakura?” is “I really care about it,” just like I really care about the relationship between Sasuke and Naruto, just like I really care about the relationship between Sasuke and Kakashi. And I don’t think the story ever asks me to choose between them.

I’m not sure whether it’s the impact of Boruto-era “canon” that gets in the way of other people approaching things this way (I don’t consider sequel material when I evaluate the original story), or if it’s Kishimoto’s frequent disinterest in/disrespect towards female characters, which yes, does sometimes make it harder, or if it's a shipping thing (bane of my existence), or some combination of factors, but for me, taking one member of Team 7 out of the equation hobbles the rest of the story. I can’t read/watch Naruto while hating one of the protagonists and loving the other three. It doesn’t work like that for me. The story wasn’t written that way, and there’s nothing in the text that would cause me to receive it that way.

That doesn't mean there's anything wrong with disliking one of the main foursome (or any character, for that matter) - obviously we're all going to have different preferences, and everyone is free to enjoy or reject whatever parts of a story they want, or to like or dislike whatever characters they want. I know that some people have more fun disregarding canon and doing their own thing, which is fine. My own personal zone of enjoyment comes from receiving the story as closely to how I think it was intended to be read as I can, and personally, when I look at this particular story, what I see is that all the members of Team 7 clearly demonstrate their love for Sasuke in ways that he himself later recognizes and acknowledges. All of them are driven by their desire to save him and their unwillingness to hurt him. All of them make repeated choices to chase after him when he runs away, to trust him when he hasn't exactly earned it, to give him another chance when he doesn't appear to deserve it. ALL of them, not just Naruto, do these things multiple times throughout the story, and Sasuke owes his life (and thus his eventual recovery) to ALL of them, many times over. Kakashi disobeys Hokage-elect Danzō and breaks the law to negotiate for Sasuke's life with a foreign head of state. Sakura and Kakashi both have opportunities to kill Sasuke in the Land of Iron, and they choose to spare him instead. Kakashi stops Sasuke from killing his only friends at two different points in the story, which would have been a mistake Sasuke couldn't have recovered from. Sasuke would have died in Kaguya's desert dimension if Sakura hadn't saved him (Sakura, who knew that Sasuke wasn't even truly on her side yet, who knew he'd abandoned her for dead multiple times already that day). Kaguya's bone bullet would have killed Sasuke too, if Kakashi, with his intention to die in Sasuke's place, hadn't leapt in front of it (Kakashi, who also knew that Sasuke wasn't fully on their side yet, who also knew that Sasuke had abandoned him for dead earlier that day). Sasuke and Naruto would have BOTH died in the Final Valley if Sakura and a severely injured Kakashi hadn't chased after them to heal their injuries.

Remove any one member of Team 7, and Sasuke never makes it home. Without the combined efforts of all three of his teammates, he doesn't survive. That’s the way it should be, thematically, for a story whose first and most foundational premise was the importance of teamwork, and since Sakura was just as essential to that framework as everyone else, I’m just as invested in her relationship with Sasuke as I am in his relationship with everyone else. You can’t remove one leg from a four-legged stool without damaging the integrity of the entire structure, and for me, discounting any single member of Team 7 irreparably damages the integrity of the entire story.

TL;DR: I love all of the Team 7 relationships, including Sakura and Sasuke's, because despite what some segments of fandom seem to believe, the text of the story never gives me any reason not to.

#naruto #meta #replies #anyway that's that! hopefully that is a helpful answer #thank you for the question! i honestly don't think i would have ever gotten around to writing about this if i hadn't been directly asked #i love talking about the stories i enjoy (obviously; we all do; that's why we're here)#but i'm usually ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ about responding to takes that blatantly misread the narrative to justify hating a particular character or ship #mostly because a) it's whatever. as long as people mind their own business and leave me to enjoy myself they can do what they want #and b) some opinions are so divorced from the actual text that they're not worth discussing #like. what's the point of responding to random internet posts saying that sakura was selfishly pursuing sasuke as a lover the entire time #when that is textually and provably not the case?#if you're that committed to experiencing things in direct contradiction to what the narrative is asking of us then just go ahead #is it mildly annoying to me? sure. but so are lots of things and it's better to just let stuff go #like - i initially planned to take this piece of meta all the way up through sakura and sasuke's last scene together #the one where he tells her 'maybe next time' and finally reclaims and redefines itachi's forehead tap (INCREDIBLE. THIS SCENE.)#but ultimately i changed my mind because everything i wrote for that last section was coming out too harsh #i generally prefer to talk about fandom stuff in a chill/friendly approachable way #but i kept thinking about the most obscenely & disrespectfully inaccurate read of that scene i'd ever seen #and i couldn't figure out how to talk about it in a non-scathing way #that scene and the one where naruto gives sasuke's headband back are the ONLY well-written things about the finale of naruto #they are SO perfectly constructed and i can't respond to people slandering either one without feeling an urge to kill #so i just deleted it. partially because again - this is fandom; it's not that serious; people can do what they want #but also because i know i get extra frustrated about people picking over the text and plucking out isolated bits and pieces #to contort into blatantly misinterpreted mutant shapes that 'confirm' whatever pre-existing judgments or ships they had #instead of experiencing the story as a cohesive whole & keeping in mind the greater context of what it's always been trying to communicate #people on this website say 'we all interpret things differently :)' as if it means no one can ever be wrong about what a text is saying #newsflash: not all interpretations of a text are valid. things can't in fact mean whatever you want them to mean.#the ***story*** persists and exists even if the author is dead to you #if you choose to ignore that then that's fine; it's just fandom; who cares. but i'm not going to pretend you're 'analyzing' anything.#(ok now i'm really done. you can see why i deleted this section XD)

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