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familyvideostevie · 2 months ago

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to close up all the rest

joel miller x reader | 3.2k

a patrol rattles you. joel keeps you grounded.

cw: typical tlou violence, intense emotions about being alive/death, love, something to live for. post-part i jackson au

a/n: just a little jackson au one-shot. this is a christmas present for darling @macfrog. thank you for existing, i love you. hope this is alright.

It's been a long time since someone died in front of you.

You don't even know her. Honestly, you should be glad the runner grabbed her, considering she just finished shooting at you. Your patrol partner, a kid called Joey who usually works the stables, shouts your name as you watch it sink its teeth into her neck over and over again.

She doesn't even scream.

"More are coming," he cries. "We have to go."

He's right. The woman's gunshot echoed in the valley and it's not yet cold enough for the herds to be slow, so you have a few minutes at most to get out of here. Probably less.

Groans on the wind. Definitely less.

You shake yourself out of the twisted thrall you've fallen into and look away. Heart in your throat, blood pounding in your ears, you quickly tie your bags to your horse and scan the street.

"Do you have your pack?" you ask Joey.

If she was screaming you'd shoot her. Put an end to it. But it might be a waste of a shot and then the runner would be on you in ten big steps. Fuck.

"Got it!"

You both mount skittish rides and take off down the cracked pavement. The patrol had an added ask of raiding some neighborhoods for linens that can be turned into bandages. You each have a big bag of old clothes, curtains, blankets, and the like strapped to the back of your saddles. The woman had appeared out of the tree line just as you finished the last house, demanding your stuff. There was protocol for this -- Joey would distract her while you went for the gun strapped to the back of your jeans.

But she was skittish, this woman. She fired at the pavement in front of you as soon as your hand twitched.

And then, well.

After a few miles of steady galloping you signal for Joey to slow. The forest is quiet as you turn onto the path down the hill that will lead you back to Jackson.

"I can't believe she shot at us," the kid says. "Stupid."

You sigh. "She was desperate," you say, remembering how wild her eyes looked. "And alone. If she had people with her she wouldn't have."

"You think?"

It's been some time but you did your days alone in this world. It's bloody, it's terrifying, it's punishing. You stop trusting anyone and eventually you stop trusting yourself. Wondering why you keep trying. Without community you lose sight of what matters. You lose sight of how you can not just survive this hell on earth, but live in it.

If she had wanted to do that, instead, maybe you could have told her it was possible.

"Yeah," you say. The walls of Jackson come into view and you think about what awaits you. A warm house, an even warmer embrace. Safety, security, home. "Having people makes all the difference."

Joey waves the green flag and the gates open for you. After returning your horse and checking to make sure the kid isn't too traumatized -- frankly, he seems totally unbothered -- you walk back to the house. The sun is starting to set, painting everything golden, but you can see the clouds rolling in. Might be that snow that everyone keeps anticipating. Most mornings you hear chatter about it. Small talk about the weather persists after the end of the world.

A few folks wave hello, ask after Ellie's new dog, say they hope you've got your firewood ready. Jackson is a thing out of dreams. Solid walls, even steadier people. Good rules, smart leaders. You feel lucky every day that they let you stay here. That you've made a home here.

That home is in sight when you turn on Rancher and what you spy on the porch makes you pick up your pace.

Joel.

He's rocking in the one chair out front, guitar slung across his lap like an afterthought as he strums with his eyes closed. It'll be too cold to sit out, soon, so he spends most evenings playing while he can still stand it.

A heaviness you didn't realize you were carrying lessens a little at the sight of him.

"Hey, stranger," you call as you walk up the steps.

His gaze falls on you, the hazel in his irises more evident in the fading light of the late afternoon. God, he looks beautiful. Like everything you've ever wanted.

"Howdy," he says. The guitar goes up against the house and he stands, meeting you at the top step. "How was patrol?"

You falter, smile frozen on your face. You should tell him, but you don't know what you'd say. A stranger died in front of you and it's put your stomach in knots? It's not that he'll laugh at you, or anything like that. You just need to chew on it a little longer. And right now you're steps away from the warm inside of your home and inches away from the man you love, so you decide to push it aside.

"The usual," you muse. Joel furrows his brow just a little and searches your gaze, but whatever he finds in your eyes causes him to let it go.

"Okay," he says, softly. He taps your chin with his knuckle and turns toward the front door, snagging his guitar on the way. "You hungry? Ellie brought by some soup."

"Did she make it?"

Your layers go on the hooks by the door, your boots next to his in the hall. He heads for the kitchen.

"Hell no," Joel says, deep voice echoing through your house. "Dina did."

"So it's edible?"

You pad on socked feet over creaking hardwood and find him over a pot on the stove, bowl in hand.

"Tried a bit and it didn't kill me," he says. "Waited for you to get home to eat, though."

"And Tommy says you were raised in a barn," you tease, kissing his cheek before he ladles the soup for you.

Joel grunts and you laugh. "Hot bowl," he says. "Careful."

For some reason, his gentle caution makes your chest hurt. You think about the woman from today, how she had no one telling her to be careful. How she made a mistake, or maybe a reckless choice. How she didn't even scream.

There are many very difficult days in this life and you dealt with them on your own for a long time. It's taken practice and mounds of patience from Joel and the other people in this town who love you, but you've learned that you can let other people help you through those days. But that doesn't mean it isn't hard.

You sit at the table across from Joel and try not to let your mood take over.

"You alright?" Joel asks, frown firmly in place. "Maybe Ellie did make the soup--"

"It's good, Joel," you say, smiling a little. If he asks you how you are one more time, you'll crack. And you're not ready yet. "Will you tell me about your day?"

He sighs, no doubt seeing through your second deflection, but allows it.

"Let's see," he starts, leaning back in his chair. "Tommy had me handlin' that bullshit with the kids who went huntin'."

Last week, three teenagers snuck out with the grand idea that they'd bag an elk or something just as big and bring it back for fame and glory or whatever kids think is worth life and death these days. It hadn't gone as badly as it could have, but it was pretty bad. They'd stolen a rifle from the patrol cache and only made it a few miles before one of them slipped down a bank and broke his ankle. Joel had been the one to lead the search party when someone realized they were missing.

He's got a soft spot for teenagers.

"It's good for them to learn," you remind him. He sucks on his teeth and rubs at his jaw. You slurp on some more soup and a thought at odds with your sour mood dances through your memory -- how good his beard felt on your skin last night. Jesus. He does something to you, this man.

"Should know better," he says, oblivious to the echo of your desire. "Havin' them clean all the guns is one thing but once that kid heals up I'm tellin' Tommy we oughta start a trainin' class or somethin'. Let them get outside the walls and hunt if they want. With supervision."

"Keep talking like that and Maria will make you join the council," you muse.

He snorts. "Yeah, I'm sure as shit not doin' that."

"You'd be good at it, Joel. People listen to you."

"I have a hard enough time gettin' my own kid to listen to me," he reminds you. "Hell, you, too."

It's less of a jab and more of an attempt to get you to cheer up, and it works. You laugh at him, delighted to vex him so. As if he does anything but melt for Ellie. And for you -- both of you know just how wrapped around you he is. He'll do anything for his family. You've seen proof of it.

"If only the council had a uniform," you sigh, exaggerating your disappointment. "You'd look so handsome in one."

"Watch it," he says, eyes sparkling.

You tap his foot under the table with yours. "Just being truthful," you tease, though it rings a little hollow given the fact that you're swerving talking about your own day.

Joel hums and leans back in his chair. "You gonna tell me what happened today?"

"What do you mean?"

Even as you chew on how to swerve him once again, you find yourself going back to the patrol. The way your senses sharpened when she stepped out of the trees, how you saw all the ways it could go wrong. Her twitchy hand, her wide eyes. The crack in her voice when she demanded your packs. The echo of the gunshot and your own heartbeat loud in your ears wondering if today was the day you wouldn't make it home. When the runner leapt out of nowhere and latched onto her. How easily your life could have ended that way, too.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you," Joel says, not unkindly. "Where are you?"

You chew on your lower lip. This would be a lot easier if the words would just come to you, if you knew how to explain yourself.

"Joel--"

"Alright, that's it," he says. Joel gets up with a groan, stretching his arms high in the air, and heads for the front door.

"What?" you ask, confused, but you follow him into the hall. "Joel, where are you going?"

"We're goin' for a walk." He shrugs on his jacket and waves you over. "C'mon."

"But the dishes--"

"Will be here when we get back," he finishes. "Now, get your coat on. Hat, too. Reckon the snow is gonna start tonight."

You could fight him about it, say you're cold and tired and just want to sit on the couch. Tell him to stop badgering you, to let sleeping dogs lie.

But that's the thing about Joel -- you trust him. Outside the walls, inside your home. With your life and with your heart. You're safe in his hands. And you've been here before plenty of times. After nightmares from both of you, after hard days in town, after his fights with Ellie or Tommy or whatever it is. You walk and you talk it out. Fresh air helps, Joel often says. It's the father in him, the caretaker, the man who knows when to listen and when to push. He's taught you a lot about that.

So you shove your feet back into your boots and Joel tugs a knit hat over your ears. The sun finished setting while you were eating, Jackson now illuminated by the gas lamps and string lights hanging between the posts.

Normally you'd be content to just walk with Joel side by side, as is your usual routine. He's not a particularly public man when it comes to affection, though you never doubt that he's thinking of you. His eyes find yours in every room and he easily finds you in every crowd. By now, you've got your own language.

But, given that he's brought you out here to no doubt get you to be honest about your complicated feelings, he offers you his arm for support. You take it with a dry look that he matches.

Never one to let you off easily, this man. Not when he knows he can help, at least.

"You know what I'm gonna say," he grumbles.

It helps to talk.

It's basically a mantra in your house. Ellie says he didn't used to be like this. The total opposite, in fact. You know that it's her that brought him back to this version of himself -- he did it because she asked. And maybe you coming along helped, too. He might seem gruff and guarded to those who don't know him but it's all so he can protect who and what he loves.

And this is one of his ways -- not letting things go unsaid.

"I don't know where to start," you say. "I don't know how to explain it."

Joel rubs a hand over his jaw. "Try the beginning," he suggests. "It was patrol, right? Somethin' happened?"

You nod.

"We saw a woman," you start. You close your eyes and picture her, letting Joel lead you down the street. "She came out of the woods just as we finished the last house."

"Hostile?"

You look at Joel. His jaw is tense, as if you're not standing in front of him safe and sound. Always trying to fix hurts he had nothing to do with.

"She had a gun, yeah," you continue. "Demanded our stuff. We were ready to do the protocol but then she shot at us."

Joel stops in his tracks, pulling you with him. "She did what?"

"And missed, obviously," you remind him. "But it was a stupid mistake, since we weren't far from that town with the herd. She had to have seen traces of them and known they were there."

"Christ," he mutters. You tug on his arm and he starts walking again.

"And before we could do anything a runner tackled her to the ground."

Joel curses under his breath. "Unlucky."

It starts to snow. You look up at the white flakes falling from the dark sky as you figure out how to say what happened next.

"Go on," Joel says, softly. "This is the part that bothered you, I reckon."

"She didn't even scream, Joel," you whisper just loud enough for him to hear. "She just went down."

"Ah."

All of it comes to a boil and the words pour out of you.

"I mean, why did she shoot in the first place? She was jumpy, sure, but she was alone, too. She looked so tired, so desperate, and the way it lunged for her I know it didn't kill her on the first bite. No screaming, she just took it. She took it and gave up. I don't -- she must have had nothing, to give up like that. It's just so fucked up --"

Your voice breaks. Joel pulls you to a stop and unwinds your arms so he can put his hands on your shoulders.

"Ain't nothin' you can do about someone else's lot," he says. "She made her mistakes."

"I know," you retort, "but that could have been me."

"It ain't you."

"But it could have been, Joel!" You're not angry with him, but you're frustrated. "If things had worked out differently for me, it could have been. If I never found Jackson, if I was still out there. It could have been me."

He exhales sharply, reigning in his own desire to remind you that you're safe. That you're here, that you're with him. That he won't let anything bad happen to you.

"Lots of things could be different," he says, slowly. "Could spend days thinkin' 'bout that stuff. Years."

"I guess I'm just sad for her." The snow has gathered in Joel's hair and you reach for him to brush it away. He allows it, keeping his eyes on yours. "I think she wanted to die."

"It's a hard life on the road."

You sigh. "I know, Joel," you say. "I just -- it's been a long time since things have been that bad for me. And it was hard to be reminded, you know?"

His hands move from your shoulders to cup your face, thumbs your skin. "I know, sweetheart," he replies. "We've all been there. Hard not to think about givin' up at least once in this shit hole."

It gets a dry laugh out of you.

"But you ain't givin' up. You fight tooth and nail every single time 'cause you've got so much to get back to. And it'll get you home."

You lean into one of his palms, your lips brushing along the heel of his hand. "I know, Joel."

He's not done. "For a long time I was like that. Not carin' much how things went, so long as I got to get my hands dirty. But Ellie --" he swallows, the love he has for his girl getting in the way of his words " -- and you tie me to this damn place. Make me get up every day, make me remember how things can be good. And someday it'll be my turn --"

"Joel--"

"No, listen. Someday it'll be my turn, and I'll go knowin' I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world to get what I got. Time."

You can't take it anymore. You pitch forward into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. Now that he's said it, you realize why the whole thing bothered you so much. You don't want to die. You don't want to lose the life you have now. The home you have with this man, the way he loves you. The way you love him. It makes you feel human, it makes you feel alive.

And you feel damn bad for anyone who doesn't have something to live for.

Joel's hand presses into your spine. Maybe in a different life you'd be worried that he'd think you're silly for being so bothered about this, but he always takes you seriously. You both know how quickly you can lose something, how much it matters to make the time you have count.

"Thank you," you say into his jacket. He scoffs.

"C'mon, now." He gently pulls away from your embrace to look at you. He brushes snow from your shoulders and hat with careful fingers. "Let's go home."

Home. For so long you never thought you'd have one.

Joel must see the vulnerability in your eyes because he leans in to press his lips to yours gently. An anchoring touch, a reminder of how he feels.

"Getting frisky, Mr. Miller," you mutter when he pulls away. He snickers and you sneak another kiss as he pinches your hip through your coat.

"Home," he says again.

You couldn't agree more.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last us of fanfiction

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citrlet · 11 months ago

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because i was asked for what mods i use, i decided i'll just make a whole post!

most of everything here is pretty cottagecore/naturey~

under the cut because my game is heavily modded this list is long!!

visual

medieval buildings

way back pelican town

seasonal cute characters base / expanded / east scarp

all cuter animal replacements

vibrant pastoral 1.6 (temporary fix)

overgrown flowery ui

medieval craftables

dynamic night time

cottagecore fences

lamps

gwens paths

animated gemstones

foliage redone foliage only

rosedryads fairies

elle's town animals

sve facelift

more grass

medieval dnt

flowergrass and snowfields

expansion fish redesign

clothing / hairs

more accessories and stuff

cozy scarves

hoods and hoodies

vanilla pants and skirts

the coquette collection

seasonal hats

ani's colour collection

improved and new hairstyles

kyuyas hairstyles pack

furniture

idalda furniture recolor

h&w outdoor furniture

h&w fairy garden furniture

west elm furniture

nano's retro style furniture

asters big furniture pack

gameplay / mechanics

cjb cheats menu (just to walk a little faster)

cjb show item sell price

greenhouse gatherers

craftable mushroom boxes

advanced casks

lumisteria serene meadow

growable forage and crop bushes

cornucopia more flowers / more crops

atelier wildflour crops and forage pack

wear more rings

tree transplant

passable crops

no fence decay redux

multi yield crops

crop fairy

challenging community center bundles

better chests

automate

spawn supply crates on beach

expanded storage

bigger backpack

blue eggs and golden mayo

better ranching

npc map locations

data layers

expansions

stardew valley expanded

east scarp / lurking in the dark / never ending adventure / always raining in the valley

lumisteria visit mount vapius

misc

jen's cozy cellar

cozy farmhouse kitchen

asters walls and floors megapack

wrens expanded greenhouse

cuter coops and better barns

nicer sewer

also recommended

hudson valley buildings

elle's seasonal buildings

seasonal fences

ridgeside village

immerisve farm map 2

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley mods #stardew valley mod list #stardew valley mods list #i just know some players are probably like apalled i've modded it so much haha #i just downloaded a load of these today #i wanted to dive headfirst into a fairycore style playthrough #i also used to have ridgeside installed but i think im going to take a break from it #with the other expansions things get a little too overwhelming for me real quick

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nanamineedstherapy · 14 days ago

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Ooga Booga Battle Royale

F!Reader x Pre-Historic Neanderthal JJK daddies (Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Zenin Toji & Ryomen Sukuna)

Summary: Prehistoric, period-accurate Neanderthal JJK daddies fighting over you? With grunts, rocks, & zero verbal communication? Say less.

Trigger Warnings (May contain spoilers for the story): Fighting, Crack, Non-Graphic Violence, Maybe some death but not in a gruesome way-more in a comedy way.

You exist.

That is the problem.

In the grand, majestic, bacteria-infested wilderness, you—a Homo sapien woman—have committed the ultimate sin by having the audacity to be alive in the same vicinity as five of the most terrifying Neanderthal men to ever grunt their way through existence.

And worse? You smell good.

Which, in prehistoric terms, means war.

A cool wind howls through the valley. Birds scream. The grass shudders like it knows something stupid is about to happen.

Then—

THWACK!!!

A rock, massive, heavy, probably could kill a mammoth, lands near your foot. You blink. A club follows, barely missing your toe.

You look up.

Gojo.

Tall. Built. Filthy. Covered in mud, scratches, and an ego the size of a glacier. He grins, sharp teeth flashing, pointing at you. Then at himself. Then—slowly, dramatically—drags his fingers down his chest, smearing dirt as he flexes his pecs in the most unhinged display of caveman peacocking.

Translation: See muscles? Strongest. Best mate. Come cave.

You blink. Slowly shake your head.

Gojo pouts. He actually pouts.

Then—

SNAP!!!

A stick breaks.

Golden hair slicked back. Precise hunting scars like he personally invented caveman Botox. He sighs ( caveman sighs, deep, judgmental ), picks up a rock and chucks it at Gojo’s head.

Gojo barely dodges, screeching.

Nanami doesn’t even grunt. Just turns to you, lifts the biggest kill you’ve ever seen— some prehistoric beast that probably had a name —slung over his shoulder, and points to his cave, all very matter-of-factly.

Translation: I provide. You come.

Gojo throws another rock. It misses. But unfortunately—

BONK!!!

It hits a third caveman.

A low, dangerous growl.

Geto.

Emerging from the literal shadows, draped in feathers, hair long, eyes dark like he’s seen prehistoric horrors and survived. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t grunt. He stares. Tilts his head. Lifts a finger—crooks it.

Translation: Come. I put pretty thing in Cave.

Gojo screeches. Nanami physically exhales rage.

You take a step back.

Bad.

Very bad.

THUD!!!

Something—someone—drops from the trees above.

Toji.

Bigger. Meaner. Shirt? Doesn’t exist yet . Scars on scars. Wearing the fur of something that had fangs and regrets. He cracks his neck, flexes, and lets out a deep, primal, guttural noise.

Translation: Mine.

He already claims you.

The tension is lethal. One grunt away from Caveman Hunger Games.

Then, the worst thing happens.

A chuckle reverberates. Low. Menacing .

From the mountains.

Sukuna.

He doesn’t walk. He stalks . Covered in war paint, a necklace of teeth—probably human—and more muscle than necessary for survival. He doesn’t even look at the others.

Just at you.

Then he smirks.

He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t peacock.

He just cracks his knuckles.

Disarray!!!

Gojo lunges for you—Nanami intercepts, yeets him into a tree like he’s taking out the trash. Geto sweeps in, silent, precise, fingers inches from you—but Toji body-slams him into the dirt so hard the Earth quakes.

Sukuna? Laughing his ass off. Arms crossed, enjoying the primal disaster unfolding before him like it's his personal gladiator match.

You? You run.

Because no matter what happens tonight, one undeniable truth remains:

You are getting bonked and dragged into a cave.

And frankly, you haven’t decided whose cave you actually prefer.

Gojo, incapable of losing with dignity, screeches like a rabid pterodactyl and launches himself at you again, arms wide—fully committed to scooping you up like an overgrown saber-toothed tiger carrying off its prey.

But—

BLOCKED!!!

Nanami moved with the speed and efficiency of a man who did NOT wake up for this bullshit today. One massive arm swings—and Gojo goes flying Into another tree.

Gojo blinks. Sulks. Pouts. Contemplates his life choices.

Nanami does not have time for this. Adjusts the massive chunk of fresh kill slung over his shoulder—a clear and undeniable sign of superior mate potential—then looks at you.

Steps forward. Expression serious.

Message clear: Come. Cave. Now.

You consider it.

Then—

Geto.

Unlike the others, he does not fight for dominance. He does not lunge. He simply stands there.

Watching. Waiting. Silent as death.

His violet eyes flick between Nanami and Gojo before settling on you. He does not gesture. He does not speak.

Translation: You will come to me.

Unfortunately for him—Toji doesn’t do patience.

BOOM!!!

Toji body-slams Geto into the dirt. The impact is hard enough to shake the ground.

Geto grunts, visibly irritated, but Toji is already moving. He snarls at Nanami and swats a distracted Gojo aside like an irritating cave-fly, and then grabs your wrist.

Bad.

You react immediately, twisting away, but Toji’s grip is like iron. His eyes gleam with primal amusement.

He likes this. Likes that you fight. Likes that you are difficult.

Thinks he claimed the right one.

You will birth strong cubs.

Then the world grows impossibly quiet.

A deep, amused chuckle from the mountain path.

Sukuna is still not looking at the others.

Just at you.

He smirks and cracks his knuckles.

Danger. Immediate. Imminent. Inevitable.

Gojo, pulling himself up from the dirt, grunts.

Nanami exhales through his nose. Already done. Over it.

Geto, dusting himself off, glares.

Toji grins.

Gojo lunges. Arms wide, absolutely determined to be the one who drags you home like a victorious cryptid.

BLOCKED!!! AGAIN!!!

Nanami intercepts and swings his hunting club with the force of a father disappointed in all of humanity.

Gojo ducks, cackling—only for Geto to casually trip him with a well-placed foot.

Toji, sensing an opening, grabs you.

Bad move.

You bite him.

HARD .

He yelps. Actually yelps . Stares at you, deeply offended.

Sukuna, bored of watching, finally moves.

The air shifts. The others freeze. Then he snarls—a guttural, earth-rumbling sound that promises death.

They all turn on him at once.

You take the opportunity to run again. Sprinting through the thick foliage, heart pounding like a war drum.

Behind you pure, unfiltered male ego gone feral.

Gojo swings from tree to tree like a prehistoric monkey, whooping and laughing. “OOGH! OOGHAAA!” This is the best day of his life.

Nanami moves with hunter efficiency, gaze locked on you like you’re the most troublesome prey he’s ever pursued.

Geto is nowhere to be seen, which is worse because he is waiting, plotting. Probably already set a trap.

Toji’s laughing. He thinks this is a game.

And Sukuna is gaining.

You hop over a fallen tree trunk. Panting. Twisting. Dodging.

A hand grabs your ankle.

You kick it.

Hard .

Gojo yelps. “OOGH?!”

Suddenly—Geto’s arms snake around your waist. Secure. Steady. You barely have time to react before—

Toji, out of nowhere tackles him. Like a rival apex predator.

You fall —

Right into Nanami’s arms.

He sighs. Shakes his head like you’ve personally disappointed him on a spiritual level. Then, without a word, swings you over his shoulder.

“ Hmph .”

Gojo screeches. Sukuna grins. Toji growls.

The fight is not even close to be over.

Because the only thing stronger than a Neanderthal is his ego.

You are smart. You bite Nanami’s ass.

He gets startled and drops you.

You are fast. You immediately run.

You are not going down without a fight.

But the problem?

Nanami is faster.

You weave through trees. Vault over logs. Chuck random rocks behind you in a desperate attempt to slow the brute down. You dive into a bush, hoping to vanish like an endangered species.

Then—a strong hand grabs your ankle.

“OOGH.”

Translation: Bad Woman!

You shriek, kick, bite—anything to get away.

Then just swings you back over his shoulder like you’re a misbehaving sack of mammoth meat.

Not again.

“BOOGA.”

Translation: Come Cave, Baddie.

You screech. Twist like an eel. Sink your teeth into his shoulder.

Nanami does not flinch. He has suffered worse.

You grab his hair, yank —

He grunts. Approvingly .

Before you could grimace, Gojo, having recovered from his previous embarrassment, swings in from a tree like some kind of prehistoric tarzan.

Again.

“OOGA BOOGAAAH!”

Nanami side-steps.

Gojo slams face-first into a boulder.

(Instant death? Maybe. No time to check.)

Geto appears from the shadows, attempting a silent takedown.

Nanami, without looking, swings his club backward.

CRACK!!!

Geto crumples like a defeated cave possum.

Toji, the bigger problem , lunges in, all muscle and violence.

You cheer. “OHUAOFF!!”

Translation: Yes! Kill each other!

Nanami, unfazed, puts you down and ducks Toji’s first punch, sidesteps the second, then grabs his wrist and yeets him into the river.

Toji does not resurface. Natural selection.

Then, just as you think you're free—a new challenger approaches.

Sukuna’s eyes lock onto you. Hungry. Territorial.

Sukuna snarls, lunges—

Nanami does not argue; he simply knees him in the stomach mid-air.

Sukuna chokes on his own grunt, stunned—but he does not give up.

They brawl. Fists flying. Bodies colliding. Dirt flying as prehistoric dominance reaches its final showdown.

You, watching from the sidelines, are in awe.

Then—

Nanami grabs a massive rock and smashes it over Sukuna’s head.

Silence .

Sukuna drops. Unmoving.

Rocked out of existence by Nanami’s sheer caveman dominance.

One victor.

One mate.

You blink. Nanami dusts off his hands.

You take this moment to run.

Nanami sighs, like he expected this. He lets you go for a solid five seconds before simply jogging up behind you and grabbing you again. He holds you by the waist—grip unyielding, muscles flexing like they’ve been carved from stone.

“AUGHH.”

You start screaming. Flailing. Kicking, biting, pulling out all the stops. You summon every ounce of Homo sapien intellect you have left to escape this prehistoric grip.

You poke him in the eye.

Nanami grunts. Blinks once and gives you a single disappointed look.

Then, without hesitation—the club comes down.

BONK!!!

Slamming against your head like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Darkness.

You, unfortunately, have lost. To the superior Neanderthal.

You wake up in Nanami’s cave. Wrapped in Nanami’s furs. With Nanami’s large, muscled arm trapping you in place.

You blink at the fire crackling nearby.

Nanami, victorious, is already roasting meat over the fire like he didn’t just commit mass homicide for your affection.

He looks down at you.

And smirks .

“Booga.”

You groan. You have lost.

But what’s worse than losing?

The fact that Nanami smells really good.

Like, really good. Like moss and firewood and a hint of leather that somehow makes your brain forget all the reasons you hate being in his cave in the first place.

And as Nanami effortlessly flips the meat over the fire, his muscles glistening in the warm glow, you become acutely aware of just how broad he is—and suddenly, you realize:

It’s throbbing for him.

A/N: And there we have it! You survived the cavemen chaos! 🦖💥 This came to me while I was showering for some reason. I hope you enjoyed watching these ridiculously over-the-top Neanderthals fight for your attention. If you made it this far, you're either a true JJK brainrot survivor or just really into prehistoric aggression & questionable decisions (same). 😏 Don’t forget to leave a comment if you’re still laughing at Gojo’s tree-swinging antics or if you, too, are secretly falling for Nanami's primal charm. Also, who would you pick—cave buddy-wise? I’m personally Team Nanami, but we can all dream about the chaos of having them all, right? Reverse modern day patriarchal society by Reverse Herem, anyone?? Catch you in the next wild ride—maybe with fewer rocks to the head... or not. 🤷‍♀️ Stay strong, stay ridiculous, & remember: you’re the real apex predator here. 😈🖤

Next Chapter because ya'll loved it so much - Ooga Booga Gojo tries to Court you (Tumblr/Ao3)

All Works Masterlist

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 23 days ago

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srry if this is vague, but do u perhaps have any headcanons about the TWST worlsbuilding? like city capitals, gender norms, internet memes, etc.

DhsnwbkFaiqn The Twst world is so big that I don’t think I could feasibly compile all my personal headcanons about the various countries and cities in a single post. I’ll share some that I feel very strongly on, just keep in mind that this is by no means an exhaustive list ^^;;

It is said that a golden dragon (well, long) presides over marriage in the Land of Crimson Long. It’s not a “real” person, more like a spirit newly wed couples pray to for happiness in their married life.

It’s okay for merpeople to consume non-sentient sea creatures, but it’s considered immoral to consume one’s members of one’s own species, even if that species itself is cannibalistic. (For example, Azul eating octopus or the twins eating moray eels.) This is because merpeople have human sentience which induces disgust in eating their own kind.

Merpeople communities get “worse”/less safe the further down you go in the ocean.

The major cities in Pyroxene/the Shaftlands attract those annoying internet clout chasers and influencers. They’re kind of seen as a general nuisance by the locals, who turn their noses up at them.

There may have been a social divide or discrimination between more animalistic merpeople (Octavinelle) and more human merpeople (Atlantica Museum Guards) in the past. Modern day relations are better, but there’s still some areas in need of improvement and that’s an effort the current royal family are working on.

Environmental conservation efforts are taken very seriously, considering that many races (fae, merpeople) or countries (Sunset Savanna, Briar Valley, Scalding Sands) depend on and/or revere nature. It’s an important part of maintaining peace between the nations.

There is DEFINITELY cursed fanfiction out there. More specifically, the “my mom sold me to One Direction” kind, except replace One Direction with Vil Schoenheit or Neige Leblanche.

There’s also got to be fanfiction of the Great Seven and tons of other modern media inspired by their accomplishments (TV shows, documentaries, musicals, etc.); we already know that films inspired by them exist so why not go the full mile??

There are items in nature inspired by those depicted in Disney films. For example, a kind of flower called the Sundrop, or a gem called the Moonstone Opal (both from Tangled).

More products and brands inspired by Disney films!! Maybe a candy themed racing game like Sugar Rush, hair styling gel and lipstick that comes out of seashells like what Ursula uses, etc.

There are co-ed and all-girls magic schools.

Heartslabyul’s interiors have a mind of their own and sometimes shift for fun. Confuses the freshmen when they experience it for the first time, but they get used to navigating it over time.

Some animal languages require that you use body language and hand movements to supplement tone and word choice. For example, you’d have to curl your hands into paws when speaking Cat.

The pose one’s body assumes can alter spellcasting. For example, if your stance is stiff, it is harder to control the flow of magic and you lose precision.

Magical medicine isn’t a cure-all; I think of it as a field that specializes in treating magic-induced ailments (like blessings/curses) and/or they are trained to use magic for tests (like scans) and precise procedures (such as surgery). (Potions in Twst are already shown to be imperfect; you still need to rest after taking them and the potions still target specific symptoms rather than fix everything.)

Savanaclaw hazes new students by tossing them into the water pool in the lounge. Leona could stop it, but he lets it happen because he thinks it helps “toughen up the fresh meat.”

Post book 6, Ortho arranges gaming tournaments and anime screenings to encourage the Ignihyde students to socialize more. They weren’t that popular in the beginning, but now they attract a decent group.

NRC has several more clubs than the ones the NRC cast are involved in; this includes a Newspaper Club that reports on local news and on-campus activities. (Miss Raven is a contributor!)

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #notes from the writing raven #question #tangled #Ursula #Leona Kingscholar #Ortho Shroud #Vil Schoenheit #Neige LeBlanche #Octavinelle #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley

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queenofcandynsoda · 1 month ago

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Golden Valley Community

Golden Valley Community is a cohousing neighborhood that is located about half a mile away from Ivory Pillars. It offers a range of communal features that reflect its values of sustainability, shared knowledge, and spiritual practice. It is split into two areas, which are the inner area and the outer area, which are separated by the houses that face towards the east, south, and west.

The inner area has a large common house that is the heart of the community for rituals, feasts, and celebrations, adorned with natural materials and symbols of their gods. Members share meals in communal kitchens and dining spaces, preparing food grown in the community's herb and vegetable gardens, prioritizing freshness and sustainability. There are workshops and craft spaces where members create items related to their beliefs, from candles to herbal remedies, fostering a culture of shared learning and mutual support. A modest library offers both sacred and practical texts, including cult lore, herbalism, and philosophy. There is also an indoor playroom and a few guest rooms. The common house that is meant for all the residents and their guests is located on the north side. Additionally, family support is woven into the fabric of the community, with childcare facilities and spaces for child-friendly activities, while each family still has its unit for private living. Most of the houses are side-by-side duplexes. Each unit has at least two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, a kitchenette, a small area for an informal dining room, a laundry closet, a balcony, and a shrine room. The Bael household has its own house that has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, a living room with a conversation pit, a large balcony, a guest room, and a large shrine room.

Outdoor worship areas and altars are integrated throughout the landscape, inviting members to connect with their deities in nature. In the center of the cohousing, there is a spacious park for a playground and a gathering area.

In the outer area, there is a large garden that contains fruits and vegetables and an orchard that has dates, lemons, cherries, olives, apples, plums, pomegranates, oranges, and fig trees. There is also a wildflower garden as there is an apiary for the members to collect honey and royal jelly. A small farm that has chickens, cows, and goats. There is a hiking and bicycle trail for residents and guests, located on the hillside. On the west side of the cohousing, there is a small car parking lot and a bike garage.

About a mile away from the cohousing, there is a mansion belonging to Coventina, an older non-resident who is popular in the community.

#golden valley community #golden valley and ivory pillars #cohousing #eldritch

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slickdickwitchbitchh · 1 month ago

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Streamer!JJ x Tiktokit!girlreader Headcanons

JJ’s streams are pure chaos, filled with jokes, wild commentary, and unpredictable antics. His audience tunes in for the rollercoaster ride he creates every time he goes live.

He leans into his bad-boy charm, often teasing authority figures or poking fun at Twitch rules (without breaking them).

He streams popular games like Call of Duty, Apex Legends, and Fortnite, but also surprises viewers with random choices like Stardew Valley or Among Us, where he thrives as the chaotic wildcard.

He’s always giving away random stuff like custom merch, surfboards, or even an old fishing rod he signed. Fans love how genuine and unpredictable he is.

JJ thrives on trolling back chat trolls, usually with witty comebacks or playful banter. It’s all in good fun, and his fans eat it up.

JJ’s setup is a mix of high-end gaming gear (probably gifted by fans) and things he rigged together himself, like a hand-painted backdrop. His camera angle is always slightly crooked, which fans find endearing.

JJ often streams with John B, Kie, Pope, and Sarah. These sessions are chaotic but hilarious, with JJ constantly trying to prank the others mid-game.

He occasionally takes his audience outside, streaming adventures like late-night fishing or skateboarding stunts. These IRL streams are just as chaotic as his gaming ones.

His chat is filled with recurring memes, like calling out JJ for always “forgetting” to fix his camera or hyping him up as the “king of clutch plays” when he barely scrapes by in games.

JJ uses his platform to raise money for causes close to his heart, like ocean conservation or supporting underprivileged youth. He does wild challenges as donation incentives, like shaving his head or attempting to surf while live-streaming.

He hosts events like beach clean-ups, livestreaming them to encourage his audience to get involved in their own communities.

JJ Maybank wasn’t the type of guy to get flustered, especially not by some girl on TikTok. But there was something about her. Y/N wasn’t just any IT girl—she was the IT girl. Her TikToks were effortlessly cool: dark eyeliner smudged to perfection, oversized leather jackets, and a smirk that could either destroy you or make your whole day. She was the epitome of black cat energy, the polar opposite of JJ’s chaotic golden retriever vibe.

It started with a repost. JJ was mindlessly scrolling TikTok late at night when he stumbled upon one of her videos. She was mouthing along to some sultry audio, her piercing gaze aimed directly into the camera. Without thinking, he hit the “repost” button and added the caption, "Okay, but why is this so good? Teach me your ways."

He didn’t think much of it—just JJ being JJ, hyping up someone who clearly had their life together. What he didn’t anticipate was the absolute meltdown his fans would have the next day.

JJ went live on Twitch the following afternoon, expecting another chaotic day of gaming and banter. But the chat was already spiraling out of control before he even picked up his controller.

“JJ, explain that TikTok repost.” “Bro, are you crushing on Y/N or what?” “JYN 2024 LET’S GO!”

JJ squinted at the chat, confused. “What are you guys talking about?” Then it hit him. His repost. His face immediately flushed. “Oh, come on! I just thought it was a good TikTok! Can’t a guy appreciate some talent without everyone making it weird?”

His chat was having none of it. Fans spammed heart emojis, ship names, and theories about JJ’s crush. Despite his protests, he couldn’t hide the goofy grin that crept onto his face whenever Y/N’s name came up.

It wasn’t long before Y/N caught wind of the repost. Her comment section was flooded with messages like, “JJ Maybank is OBSESSED with you,” and “When’s the collab with JJ?”

Ever the unbothered queen, Y/N played it cool. She stitched his repost, smirking into the camera as she said, “JJ? Isn’t he that streamer who can’t finish a game without breaking something?”

The video went viral immediately. JJ saw it live during one of his streams, his jaw dropping in mock offense as the clip played on repeat. “Chat, did she just roast me? Oh, it’s on now.”

But instead of firing back with an actual roast, JJ doubled down on the banter. He reposted her video with, "Touché. But we all know I’d win in a 1v1. Prove me wrong?" Fans loved the playful back-and-forth, and the internet began buzzing about their “rivalry.”

After weeks of teasing from his fans, JJ finally slid into Y/N’s DMs. His message was equal parts confident and awkward:

“Okay, so I’m not saying I’m scared of you, but I’m also not not saying it. Wanna settle this on stream? Loser buys dinner.”

To his surprise, Y/N replied within minutes. “You’re lucky I like chaos. Let’s do it. But don’t cry when I win.”

From that point on, their banter escalated. They played a few games together—her calm, calculated black cat energy perfectly balancing his chaotic golden retriever vibe. Every time she called him out for being “too loud” or “too much,” he countered with an over-the-top compliment that made her laugh despite herself.

Fans started shipping them harder than ever, creating fan edits of JJ’s streams mixed with her TikToks. “Golden retriever x black cat” trended across multiple platforms, and both JJ and Y/N leaned into it, dropping subtle hints about their connection.

Despite the internet’s obsession with their ship, JJ and Y/N kept things private. They texted constantly, had late-night FaceTime calls, and even managed to meet up a few times without anyone finding out. JJ would ramble about her to John B and Pope, grinning like an idiot the entire time.

“She’s so cool, man. Like, effortlessly cool. I don’t even know why she talks to me.”

Pope smirked. “Maybe because you won’t shut up about her?”

Meanwhile, Y/N’s TikToks started to feature subtle hints of their connection. A leather jacket draped over a chair that looked suspiciously like JJ’s. A quick shot of a hand with his signature Pogue bracelet. Her fans speculated wildly, but she never confirmed anything.

JJ loved how private their relationship was, but he also couldn’t wait to share her with the world. He just didn’t know how.

It happened unexpectedly during one of JJ’s streams. He was mid-match, trash-talking his opponents, when a voice chimed in from off-camera.

“You talk a big game for someone who just got sniped.”

JJ froze, his eyes darting to the side. “Chat… wait. Hold up. Chat, I didn’t—she wasn’t supposed to be here yet.”

Before he could explain, Y/N walked into frame, looking effortlessly cool in an oversized hoodie and messy hair. She leaned on his chair, smirking at the camera.

“Hey, JJ’s little crew. Hope he’s treating you better than he treats his K/D ratio.”

Chaos erupted. The chat was a flood of messages:

“NO WAY IS THAT Y/N???”

“Golden retriever x black cat IRL CONFIRMED.”

“Our ship is REAL!”

JJ groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Y/N, you just broke the internet.”

“Good,” she replied, smirking. “They needed something exciting today.”

For the rest of the stream, the two bantered back and forth, with Y/N casually roasting JJ’s gameplay and him dramatically pretending to be heartbroken. Fans couldn’t get enough.

The internet exploded with memes, fan edits, and tweets about the reveal. JJ and Y/N trended for days, their dynamic captivating fans everywhere. Despite the chaos, they handled it in stride, continuing to stream together occasionally while keeping most of their relationship private.

JJ loved seeing her in her element, effortlessly winning over his fans with her quick wit and charm. And Y/N couldn’t help but admire how genuine and fun he was, even when the spotlight was on them.

Their relationship became the perfect mix of chaos and calm—just like a golden retriever and a black cat.

Stream Comments :

"THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER 😭💘 THEY'RE ENDGAME, YOUR HONOR."

"JJ pulled Y/N??? The rest of us don’t stand a CHANCE."

"She’s so black cat coded, and he’s just barking in the background. Literal perfection."

"So we’re just not gonna talk about how he’s been soft-launching her for WEEKS???"

"‘She wasn’t supposed to be here yet’ 🤨 JJ, be so serious. You KNEW."

"The way she casually roasted him and he just SMILED??? Sir, you’re down bad."

"Plot twist: They’ve been dating this whole time, and we were just clowns 🤡."

"JJ soft launching her bracelet in the background of his streams… sneaky king 😏."

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #streamer!jj #it!girl reader #streamerjjmaybank

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shesimsplayer · 2 months ago

Text

My savefile ♡ SECOND PART

FIRST PART HERE

Playable worlds

♡ Brindleton Bay ♡ Britechester ♡ Chestnut Ridge ♡ Copperdale ♡

♡ Del Sol Valley ♡ Henford-on-Bagley ♡ Magnolia Promenade ♡

♡ Mt. Komorebi ♡ Oasis Springs ♡ San Myshuno ♡

♡ San Sequoia ♡ Sulani ♡ Tartosa ♡ Windenburg ♡

Brindleton Bay Sable Square

♡ Brindleton Pawspital by @bojanastarcevic (lot size 40 x 30)

♡ Farm to Table Restaurant by @simpolcheeks filled with cc by @kekeyw (lot size 40 x 30)

♡ Lucio's Market by @rheya28 (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ Golden Spice Restaurant by @rheya28 (lot size 30 x 30)

♡ Devon's haven by @plantyl-m (lot size 40 x 30)

Whiskerman's Wharf

♡ Four Winds Community Garden by @bojanastarcevic (lot size 40 x 30)

♡ *The Ivy Townhouses by @swanettesims (lot size 40 x 30)

Cavalier Cove

♡ Everbright Home by @honeybellabuilds (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ Hound’s Head Country Club by @shaymoo22 (lot size 64 x 64)

♡ Cozy autumnal family house by @bojanastarcevic (lot size 20 x 20)

♡ Modern Farmhouse by @bojanastarcevic (lot size 40 x 40)

♡ Little Modern Farmhouse by @summerrplays (lot size 30 x 20)

Deadgrass Isle

Del Sol Valley Mirage Park

♡ Leila Square Apartment by @rheya28 (lot size 40 x 30)

♡ The Forsy Building by @softerhaze (lot size 40 x 30)

The Pinnacles

♡ The Griya Lesmana, luxury residence by @lesmana-enterprise-ltd (lot size 50 x 40)

♡ Celebrity Manor by @beulahsdaisy (lot size 64 x 64)

♡ Minimalist glass house by @bojanastarcevic (lot size 50 x 40)

Starlight Boulevard

♡ Santini`s by @shaymoo22 (lot size 40 x 30)

♡ Concert Stage by plumbobkindom (lot size 20 x 20)

♡ Del Sol Dance Studio* by @magdalune (lot size 30 x 30)

♡ El Arbol Fusion Restaurant (lot size 40 x 30)

♡ IronWorks Fitness Centre by @rheya28 (lot size 40 x 30)

Britechester University of Britechester

♡ Drake Hall by @bojanastarcevic (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ Wyvern Hall* by @simkhira (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ Britechester Townhouses* by @farfallasims (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ Kupfergraben Townhouse by @honeybellabuilds (lot size 30 x 20)

Foxbury Institute

♡ Britechester Art Gallery* by plumbobkindom (lot size 40 x 30)

♡ Garden Center by @jakkkuu (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ Briny Tower by @magic-mili (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ Tidal Tower by @dreamscarx (lot size 30 x 20)

Gibbs Hill

♡ Maison de Fleurs by @honeybellabuilds (lot size 20 x 20)

♡ The Pâtisserie on Grande Rue by @honeybellabuilds (lot size 20 x 15)

♡ Tulip Townhouse by @honeybellabuilds (lot size 20 x 15)

♡ Kensington Townhouses by @farfallasims (lot size 20 x 15)

♡ London Townhouses by @evarotky (lot size 50 x 50)

Magnolia Promenade PARIS

♡ Place De Valois by @jakkkuu (lot size 40 x 30)

♡ JO MALONE STORE & LA MARIE BEAUTY SPACE (lot size 20 x 20) by me

♡ SIMPARI Restaurant by @jakkkuu (lot size 20 x 20)

♡ Chanel Store (lot size 30 x 20) by me

Mt. Komorebi Wakaba

♡ The Jeong House by @themintsimmer (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ Oracle Cafe by @plantyl-m (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ Yugen Hair & Spa by @vylewa (lot size 20 x 15)

♡ Lakeside Mansion* by @aashwarr (lot size 50 x 50)

♡ Korean Cafe & Apartment by @paleanelo-sims (lot size 20 x 15)

Senbamachi

♡ Japandi Inspired Cafe and Restaurant by @vylewa (lot size 20 x 15)

♡ Japandi Townhouses by @farfallasims (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ Snowy Xmas Cabin by @bbygyal123 (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ David`s house* by @bojanastarcevic (lot size 20 x 15)

♡ Calm family house by yohannabuilds (lot size 30 x 20)

Yukimatsu

♡ kōrien icerink by @rivzai (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ Ten Leaves Spa & Rental by @rheya28 (lot size 50 x 50)

♡ Kurokawa Onsen by @rheya28 (lot size 30 x 20)

♡ Yoi Jikan Nightclub by @themintsimmer (lot size 30 x 20)

Map replacement by 20thcenturyplumbob

last update 15/02/2025

#sims4 #simblr #simsthetic #sims 4 #sims 4 save file #save file #save file sims 4 #del sol valley #britechester #mt. komorebi #magnolia promenade #my save file #brindleton bay

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awritesthings1 · 1 year ago

Text

Things That Go Bump in the Night

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: You ask your husband Tommy if he believes in ghosts. The answer might surprise you.

Warnings: dark, angst, spooky.

ao3 link

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

It was near the end of winter, and another autumn of earl grey teas and tireless raking of crunchy leaves was fast approaching Arrow House. Tommy’s peaky cap lived on the coat hanger by the front door, dusted in the faint smell of smog. Gone was the silver razor; the Shelby’s were much too respectable for that anymore. In came the monogram initials, all of which had been carefully handstitched onto cuffs and collars to match golden cufflinks, and out came the fine woolen overcoats.

The weather lay thickly that year over the English countryside, enough to invoke a ghostly mist around the trimmed hedges and shorn grass. A stillness crept in as sly as a cat when the fog came down, covering all life with a sheer dew. The garden retired into a dull combination of cool greens and toe-curling crystal air.

It was at this time of year that the monsters came out to play in their ominously shaped shadows and faint howls. Where there was a tick of movement, an airy silence and childhood fear followed. Tommy would have teased you endlessly for your paranoia if he hadn’t suffered through the same fate after the war. You supposed he had more of a right than you because his fears came from a very real place, and yours were out of superstition.

“Spirits,” Tommy clarified. “Yes, it’s in my blood.”

“But have you ever seen one?”

Tommy turns his head to look at you, squeezing you closer to his chest from where you both lay under the covers.

“Why’d you ask?” His accent was thicker in the morning.

If anyone knew anything about spirits, it would be your husband. He was more superstitious than you due to his gypsy blood. The things he told you about the community were nothing short of witchcraft—charming dogs, telling fortunes, and cursing wrong'uns. It puzzled you at first that your seemingly pragmatic, calculating husband believed nothing short of Madame Boswell’s words as nothing but gospel.

You stared out the window, attempting to conjure up the right words, but shivered instead when his fingers ghosted across your back.

“Well… I don’t know. I don’t think I would believe in something until I saw it for sure with my own two eyes.”

He hummed and smiled lazily. “Why do people believe in God, hm?”

You pressed your lips together and shrugged as best you could in his embrace.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Eh?”

“Have you ever seen a spirit?"

Tommy’s eyes glazed over in thought. It was the answer you dreaded.

“Yes.”

“Were you scared?”

He blinked out of the daze.

“No.”

Your hand moved to rest on the cusp of his cheek.

“What happened?”

He cleared his throat and laced his hand with yours there on his face.

“I was nine. Madame Lovell’s nephew drowned in a lake the day before, and then on the day of the funeral, it rained. I was running back from over the hill when I saw him. He stood there staring at me through the spray of rain.”

Your thumb swiped over the tops of Tommy’s cheekbones.

“You’re certain? Maybe the rain got in your eye, and what you saw was a shadow or maybe even an eyelash in your eye. That happens to me sometimes.”

“I know what I saw.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, then tried to picture the scene for yourself. You stood atop some grassy hill, peering down into the valley. Dark plumes of smoke rose from a small coffin stationed at the bottom of the hill, slivering up through the wildflowers and tree branches to where you stood. Then there, through the smoke and rainfall that blinded your eyes, was the boy who drowned.

“Was he scared?”

A pause, then: “no.”

That night, you settled by your vanity, combing out knots and patting lotion onto your skin. The haunted look of that boy Tommy said he saw lingered in the back of your mind, and every vague shape or shadow shifted in the corner of your eye. Paranoia—that's all it was. You didn’t want to be caught staring at a dark corner like some half-mad crook. Tommy would be crossing the threshold into your room any moment now. Maybe if his last-minute business hadn’t held him up in his office, he would be here with you now, and you wouldn’t be glancing over at that suspicious coat hanging up by the wardrobe. The lamps that were lit didn’t stretch far enough to illuminate the monsters from their hiding spots.

It was a trick of the brain, that’s all.

And surely enough, Tommy’s footsteps were heard down the hall. Your shoulders slumped in relief. The autumn season was only one for the dramatics.

Your hand cream pot clattered onto the vanity, swirling in circles until it came to a stop just as you heard Tommy outside the door. But when you stood to greet him with a kiss, the door to your bedroom remained closed, and the doorhandle remained still.

“You can come in!" You laughed, but a sort of coldness seized your heart with terror when you wondered why Tommy was just standing there on the other side.

“Tommy?” You inquired after a painfully thin stretch of silence.

Again, nothing.

You reached for your comb, holding the long, sharp piece you used to part your hair out like a knife. You weren’t naïve. Tommy had enemies, opportunistic ones, too.

And so you stood there, straining to hear any noise beyond your heartbeat that thundered in your ears. You tried slowing your breathing to hear better, but your eyes then began to water from the strain and your refusal to blink. Then it happened, as abruptly as you imagined. The door burst open. Tommy rushed in, slammed the door shut behind him, and stormed over to the closet without so much a look in your direction.

“Tommy?” You squawked, still seized in terror.

He grunted, shrugging on his overcoat and snatching his leather gloves from the tallboy.

“What’s going on?”

Finally, he paused. His eyes were bloodshot and far away. You feared he looked through you rather than at you. He came closer then, pulling you into his arms and laying a warm kiss on your temple.

“Everything’s ok, darling.”

“Where are you going?” Your voice broke. “Did something happen?”

“No…” He hushed. “No.”

“Then where are you going? It’s still dark outside!”

He sighed into your disheveled hair, then pulled away.

“I need to check on one of the horses. Get into bed; I’ll be back soon.”

You clutched his lapels in protest. “No!”

He said your name sternly: “I really need to go. Frances is in her room if you need anything.”

“Tommy, I heard something!” Then, you lowered your voice so only he could hear, “I think someone’s in the house.”

He pulled you in by the scruff of your neck. “No one’s here, love. It’s just us and Frances.”

His boots thud severely against the wooden floor to the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

Begrudgingly, you let him leave and confined yourself to the bed, pulling the covers over your face like a small child afraid of the dark. You left all the lights on, determined to let any intruders know that yes, you were home, and yes, you would see them coming. Tommy would be back soon, and if Tommy didn’t suspect anything amiss, he was probably right.

But the grandfather clock in the other room kept ticking, tick tick tick, and little fairies scampered about in the garden below. The moon’s solemn gaze glared judgingly through the windows, past the squinting shutters, and onto your skin. Ink from family portraits bled into one horrifying mess of shadows. You threw back the hungry covers, which seemed to be swallowing you whole, and knocked your shoulder into the jaw of the door (you had mistaken it for being further than it really was). A teacup flew off a shelf, but you dodged it with one ugly turn of your ankle.

Then you ran down the winding stairs, through the narrowing hallway, and out the chattering front doors of Arrow House. A lustrous mist had fallen over the land, thick enough that your arms whipped around senselessly, blinded by the clouded night, in your attempt to trek to the stables.

The stable gates were banging back and forth by the time you reached them. They whack your behind when you pass them, and you would’ve cried if it weren’t for the airy atmosphere peeling the moisture from your eyes.

“Tommy!”

A clack of hooves answered you.

Your feet burned despite the bitter cold, swelling with each step. Still in your nightgown, the elements worked together, clawing, scratching, and biting at your bare skin. The swell of a draft caught the tip of your nose, and you whipped around just in time to see a coat disappearing around the back of the stable where the paddock was.

Fear acted like a glaze of sweltering iron, hissing the rhythm out of your heart.

“I can see you!” You tried to warn as if you were the hunter and not the hunted.

Leather hands wrapped around your shoulders from behind.

“Are you insane, eh?” Tommy’s gruff voice scolded in your ear.

You turned around to crumple into his embrace.

“Tommy, something’s not right about this house.”

“Is that why you’re out here? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

It could have been a ghost, a careful soulless thing—a soundless haunting memory with no cause for action, warping around the edges of reality. It was then a great whipping lash of winter lakes and violent snowflakes cut into the lines of your knuckles and sliced beneath your skin.

Your lips moved sometime after that, or maybe it was before; you couldn’t remember. Nothing seemed to make sense. The man in the moon wound away your surroundings one by one, like a fisherman with his catch on a hook.

“What?”

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what, Tommy?”

Silence held a knife to your neck.

“Out in the paddock..." His dark, long eyelashes brushed earnestly along his high-cut cheekbones, and you feared the thought that had seemingly paralyzed your husband from saying any more. If it weren’t already dark, a shadow might’ve passed over his features.

A fountain of words prepared to gush out, but you slipped on a puddle that appeared around your feet. You stepped back with a gasp. It wasn’t raining.

“I’m sorry, my love. I should’ve listened to you.”

The puddle kept growing. Words turned into water.

“What the fuck is happening, Tommy?"

His thumb brushed the apple of your cheek.

“I’ll avenge you. I will.”

You cried.

“Shhh, don’t be afraid, darling." Tommy kissed your ice-cold forehead.

You choked. Water: water pooled out of your mouth and suffocated your lungs. You couldn't breathe.

“Go back to bed for me, eh?”

All over your nightgown—water, water, water.

The horse trough out in the paddock, the goldfish swimming past your cheek, straw in your teeth, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, no response, no one, the weight of a hand tangling in your hair, air, air, air, no air.

Drip, drip, drip.

Water in your eyes, ears, nose, mouth—

You never saw them coming.

“I promise, love. I’ll get the bastards that…”

He choked as if he were also choking on water, water, water.

“I never saw them coming, Tommy,” you hiccupped, but it was all water, water, water—

“I know.”

Gurgling.

“I just wanted to find you.”

“I know, I know.”

They pinned your arms back.

“The fucking water trough, Tommy!”

He swallowed painfully.

You couldn’t see him anymore. His face had washed away in your straw, goldfish, blood, water, water, water, tears. Blindly, you traced under his eyes and felt his salty, grief, widowed, water tears.

There’s so much tears and sorrow there in that stable that it begins pouring from outside and through the roof. Most days it was in the paddock, but tonight it was here.

Frances, the housekeeper, watched from her window. On these types of nights, when Arrow House became entrapped in a spell and rain drizzled over the countryside, Thomas Shelby would squelch across the overgrown grass to the paddock behind the stable before disappearing. Where he went, she didn’t know. The hazy sheet of mist left much to the imagination. What he saw out there? She didn’t know either. The poor bastard probably just missed his wife.

Frances briefly left her room to peer into Mr. Shelby’s. Letting out a sigh of relief, the room appeared untouched, still frozen in the state Mrs. Shelby left it when she went out to find her husband that tragic night. The sheets were still tossed aside, the teacup still shattered on the ground, her comb still waiting on the bedside table.

Satisfied with her findings, she turned to leave when—

What’s that?

A puddle.

There must be a leak somewhere.

Oh well, she’ll see to it in the morning.

With that, she quietly crept away to her room and fell back asleep, undisturbed by the chattering shutters or creaking floorboards. Not even the ghostly cries down the hall woke her.

After all, there was no such thing as ghosts, only things that went bump in the night.

Taglist: @maliceofwonderland , @fairytale07 , @goblinjnr , @ilovepeoplesdads , @multidimensionalslut , @blogforficslol

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whitecreekvalley-if · 1 year ago

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[ Demo TBA ] • Character descriptions �� Pinterest •

Genres: Slice of life, drama, mystery, romance

WCV is rated 18+ for explicit language, violence, alcohol and drug use, and explicit sexual content.

Life's taken a nosedive—no apartment, no job, no friends. Desperation pushes you to cling to a chance from a kindly stranger offering a ticket to a town hidden beyond mountains and plains, a place people don't seek but always seem to need.

Welcome to Whitecreek Valley, where the Brass Pine Ranch needs your unique skills to mend a crumbling homestead, and a crumbling family. As you tackle the decay of the ranch and the town alongside the rancher's son, deeper troubles emerge—livestock falling ill sparks fears of a town on the brink of extinction. Can you navigate this community, help them rejuvenate, or will it become another link in the list of ghost towns of America's Wikipedia page?

FEATURES

Customization: Appearance, personality, gender & sexuality, what job they had before, their hobbies, etc. Choose how they feel about being a farmhand, how they're adjusting to the rural life, and - with your choices - how the town as a whole sees them. Are they part of the community or an perpetual outsider?

Skills: Depending on your previous job, you'll have a unique set of skills to help the community. Choose to learn new skills, like woodworking, bronc riding, or sheep shearing, to mention a few.

Animal husbandry: The distances around Whitecreek Valley are hefty, so it's necessary to have at least a horse to get around. Choose your favorite out of a cast of individual equines, each with their own personalities. Also, help a calf into this world and realize how fun it is to raise a baby cow! As long as you're in good standing with the rest of the herd, of course.

Rebuilding: Try your best to rebuild the Brass Pine ranch, and the town adjacent. The better job you manage, the more opportunities (and challenges) come your way.

Community outreach: A dying town is still home, and there are stories to be heard, problems to solve. Lend a helping hand to your new community and see how one kindness can pay itself back.

Romance: Not everyone in town is adverse to strangers, and if your heart yearns romance, there is a chance for a spark along the way. Just be careful as to who you're trying to woo in front of whom. Small town gossips, we've all seen it.

Mystery: There's something hanging over the valley, like a rot in the air. Why are people moving out? Why are exports not moving out? And who's behind the animals getting sick? Don you detective hat and lend a hand to the entire four local police officers working the bizarre case.

THE LOCALS (RO'S)

THE RANCHER'S SON

Mason "Mace" Gannon - 27 - he/him

He used to be so much fun. I miss hanging out with him, out by the bonfires. He'd always make everyone feel so included and happy, and oh, that homemade cider he'd bring? Warmed us up on those chilly late fall nights, when we had nothing else to do. Did I tell you about the time he got us all to go skinny dipping? He was such a charmer, I wonder --

Imagine Mace as your human golden retriever – the guy who's a blast to be around, a bit mischievous, and the first to rush to your aid whenever you need it. After being gone for five years to live his rodeo dreams, he's back, now the sole caretaker of the family ranch in his hometown. He goes to great lengths to keep his personal issues personal, and it's the butt of many jokes how he's always there to help others but has the worst time asking for help himself.

He's you boss, and probably one of the best you'll ever get. Just don't pay mind to the spats between him and his dad.

THE BARTENDER

Alice Marks - 25 - she/her

Alice, she's a feisty one! Like her poppa, rest his soul. How I love the drinks she comes up with at the bar, and that horse of hers! She could go into rodeo, but I don't think after what happened with her pa... Oh, but she's a wonder! Always there with a quip, how they drive her suitors mad. Good thing she stopped with the talk about moving away, the town would be so dull without her!

Alice is the town's most known inhabitant, running the show from the only bar in town, which she just happens to own. Her mind is like a machine for fun, and she's the brain behind all the pop-up events and happenings around town. Sure, she can be a bit like a hurricane of enthusiasm, but hey, that's Alice for you. If the town had a social heartbeat, it'd be Alice – the vibrant, smartass soul making everyday life feel like a blessing.

THE DEPUTY

Word of the wise: Never challenge Alice to a drinking game. You will lose, spectacularly, and it'll all be on film.

Judge Gannon - 34 - he/him

Judge is a bit strange, don't you think? He just vanished as soon as he turned eighteen and popped back out of nowhere! That must've been, let's see... Five years ago? He doesn't spend much time with us commoners though, but I think I've seen him at the bar once or twice. I don't actually think he knows how to make nice with people, he always has that glower on. Gets it from his dad, let me tell you --

Bold and straight to the point, Judge isn't out here trying to be intimidating – it just kinda happens. If his brother is a golden retriever, he's definitely the doberman of the family. He's got this brash, no-nonsense vibe that some folks mistake for arrogance, especially when they try laying on the charm and he's not having it. He steers clear of small talk unless it involves his job, and when duty calls, he's more than ready to throw down to protect his town and county.

There's this local urban legend that he cracked a smile once, but it's like spotting a unicorn – not everyone's buying it.

THE LAWYER

Mercedes "Sadie" Diáz - 32 - she/her

The new girl, yes! Oh, a beauty! And so curious. I do love sitting down with her though, oh the stories she brings from the big city, so intriguing! I hear she finds our town intriguing too, the mayor once - don't tell anyone I told you this - the mayor once said he caught her breaking into the city hall archives! I know, scandalous, but good on her, maybe now someone will argue that my neighbors fence post --

Sadie, the big-shot lawyer from the city, doing her solo act in town. When she's not in court, folks are lining up just to get a piece of the urban tales she's got. A trailblazer and truth-seeker, she's got this knack for poking her nose where it probably shouldn't be, and surprise, she knows more local secrets than the town gossip. Sure, she's all passionate and calculated, a bit out of sync with the town's warmth, but hey, that logical mind of hers might just shake things up and get the town back on track.

It's a well known fact that she could get access to places with the right documents, but she herself has said it's more fun to pick locks. Go figure.

LIST OF MAJOR NPCs

LIST OF MINOR NPCs

#interactive fiction #wip #if wip #if: intro #cog #choice of games #interactive novel #choice script #or is it #choicescript #idk idk

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itsybitsybluesy · 2 months ago

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THE PERFECT ROMANTIC GETAWAY: ONE WEEK FOR TWO AT SCENIC, LAKESIDE MOUNTAIN LODGE

CHAPTER 1 / ELUCIEN / EXPLICIT / 1 OF 3

There was simply so much they’d had to extricate themselves from in the middle of Solstice season, Elain thought several times that they should really just call the whole thing off. “It’s never a good time for a vacation,” Lucien told her. “Which is why you have to take them.”

🎁 🎁 🎁

LMAO HAPPY ACOTAR GIFT EXCHANGE @huntquinlan!!! surprise surprise, i accidentally revealed myself as your secret santa AND THEN TURNED AROUND AND DOUBLE-CROSSED YA BY PRETENDING I WAS YOUR NEW, DIFFERENT SECRET SANTA... did you guess? i am selfishly super happy i didn't have to switch, because i loved writing this and i also loved getting to discover your wonderful art! my only regret is that i couldn't write you asks in gossip girl speak the entire time.

thank you @temperedink for the generous beta read and thank you @acotargiftexchange for dealing with my mistake... i'm told at least once a year someone spoils the surprise and i am not that shocked that i did it my first time. just too excitable i guess!

have a wonderful holiday season, and i really hope you like this! i tried to take your Outlander hot springs suggestion and go somewhere new on the Continent (that is, ahem, quite obviously a lakeside town in japan i once visited in my early 20s). there will be three chapters total, sprinkled somewhat evenly over the next few days of the event!

LOVE U BESTIE!

xoxo,

itsy <3

(read it on AO3!)

preview under the cut:

ELAIN

She was slightly anxious the whole carriage ride as town streets turned to farms and fields and then to hills and valleys. There was simply so much they’d had to extricate themselves from in the middle of Solstice season, Elain had thought several times that they should really call the whole thing off. Nesta was just a few months pregnant and horribly sick in the mornings, sometimes only able to keep down the soothing bone broths Elain made her from scratch; Nyx was going through his first few challenges with his schooling and consequently driving court tutors to madness; Feyre and Rhys had their hands full and heads spinning with a squabbling pack of High Lords and uneasy, bickering detente with the human queens.

Elain had been soothing and tending and chipping in and charming her ass off anyone that needed it. “I just don’t know if it’s such a good idea for us to leave now ,” she’d said to her mate, though it pained her to rain on his parade.

Lucien was still splitting his time between Day and the apartment they were renting in Velaris, though Elain knew the constant winnowing didn’t always help with the question of what, exactly, to do about his inheritance: the title of Day Court Prince, Helion’s pride and joy, the golden boy he would have been, had he been allowed to grow up by his father’s side. The High Lord of Day seemed to have an endless fount of ideas on what Lucien should learn about in Day’s libraries, or why it was very important for him to accompany Helion to a trade meeting, or any number of other reasons to invite the current emissary of Night to stay another day, week, month.

Elain knew there was no reason Lucien needed to keep going on Rhys’s nosy little reconnaissance missions or put up with the polite friendlessness that faced him in Velaris - just as she knew her mate still could not take the final step into the place Helion offered to him, the path that seemed to be open after so many decades thinking he deserved so little. It was Lucien who perhaps needed to spend more time communicating with his relatives and trusted friends this Solstice, and of course it was Lucien most convinced they should leave, Cauldron boil them all, because they wanted to and because they could.

“It’s never a good time for a vacation,” Lucien told her before they left. “Which is why you have to take them.”

“That’s not an answer,” Elain said loftily. “I think it’s you trying to avoid a Solstice visit with Helion.”

“Forget Helion,” her mate said. “It’s me trying to whisk my gorgeous mate away for some actual peace and quiet.”

And in the end, she’d agreed with him, in her heart of hearts so craving a day or two to just themselves. Lucien spared no expense or comfort, ever gallant and also very dramatic about his holiday plans; he worked with court engineers to spell their carriage against the winter cold so that he and Elain could enjoy a cozy, comfortable ride to their destination, laden with trunks of likely unnecessary furs and blankets and books and tea. He knew Elain still preferred real-time travel to winnowing, and he also knew it was a simple pleasure for her to not have to pack light. Across from her in the carriage, he sat with one hand stroking her own, eyes bright as he peered out the window.

“Tell me again,” Elain said softly, “what this place is like.”

“I don’t want to build your hopes too high,” Lucien said gaily, clearly proud of what he’d planned anyway. “After all, it was a suggestion from Eris, of all people.” It was his brooding, severe half-brother who’d told Lucien about the town and the inn, the mountain and the springs before it, about a day’s ride Northeast into the Continent. Only the Mother knew how, exactly, Eris had acquired this information, but Eris had heard about Elain’s dreamy musings on travel, exploring beautiful places and getting to know new people. Lucien expected it was ultimately fondness for Elain and not himself that had so inspired this exclusive recommendation.

“That’s why I know it’ll be just perfect,” Elain countered. “Any place on the Continent notable enough for Eris Vanserra must be pretty breathtaking.”

“It’s only a town,” Lucien said, grinning. “A town he happened to know, by a mountain, populated by quiet mountain people he probably terrified.”

Elain curled closer to him and sighed. “Quiet people, how lovely,” she said. “What if I never want to return?”

Lucien dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I’m sure I could handle your correspondence, be your emissary.”

“No, I’ll make sure you’re enchanted into following my every step,” his mate replied. “So you can never leave my side.”

He turned and let himself take a deep whiff of her hair and pearled, soft skin. “No enchantment needed, mate.”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #elain x lucien #elucien #elucien fanfiction #acotargiftexchange

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