#basically just a design I managed to have a name for
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xxthunderthedragonxx · 13 days ago
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I really like this goo gal I made a while ago. I think about her a lot. I named her gale, but I wasn't expecting do to anything with her. She just exists.. maybe I'll do something with her one day
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nicoscheer · 4 months ago
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A bit of shirt shopping with Ellis
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I can’t properly deal with the way he went from I to [] like he got BROAD
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bloomeng · 3 months ago
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This is my official Batfam Magical Girl AU Masterpost (everyone clapped)
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(image updated: 9/21/24)
I’m going to do a brief overview and then go into more details for those interested.
Bruce being from old money (and apparently being connected to Camelot) inherited a mysterious mineral with unknown properties. In its raw form it’s very unassuming, but when cut like gemstones and added to accessories it can be harnessed into a tool. By altering the mineral into a wearable item it allows the magic within to be channeled. The magic of the mineral connects with its wielder to create an outfit and (typically) a weapon. These outfits do not grant the wearer special abilities outside of the transformation and the weapon, but when worn the wearer is granted (what is basically) hammerspace and a nearly impenetrable outfit. The uniform granted is not something they can alter the appearance of but will change gradually overtime to reflect how the wielder has grown.
This mineral will henceforth be known as Arcanium. It operates on Kryptonite logic in that it’s— allegedly— super rare but also shows up whenever the plot needs it. (I’m aware it shares a name with a card game, but I wanted my Kryptonite spoof)
Martha Wayne unknowingly started the cycle by turning— what she thought was a rare gemstone— into a brooch. She died shortly after having it made and Alfred held onto it in her memory. Like canon Bruce goes on his journey of self-exploration to train. When he comes back he enacts his plan the way he does in Batman: Year One, where he goes out in basically just make-up, and it goes poorly. He wanders his manor trying to formulate a strategy and is drawn to his parent’s room and finds his mother’s brooch. Cue the first magical girl transformation. From there he alters the brooch to fit his bat aesthetic and the Batman Brooch is born.
Dick comes into his life the same way as canon. Bruce takes him in as a ward, Dick tries to track down Zucco on his own, etc. Bruce decides to use the other raw sample of Arcanium to turn into a second magical artifact. He lets Dick pick the theme, and thus the Robin Pendant is born. The rest is history.
(Before I continue I want to warn that I’m making shit up as I go, so some of this is subject to change as I move forward.)
The Robin Pendant is passed down from Robin to Robin. Each Robin got their own unique look while using it. Following canon, Dick and Bruce have their falling out and Dick gives up the Robin Pendant in a moment of anger. In this au I think Dick, not having the pendant to fall back on, tries to lead a vigilante-free life, but of course falls back into it. During a fight he somehow manages to stumble across Arcanium in its raw form. Recognizing it he takes it with him. Like Nightwing: Year One he has his conversation with Superman and decides to become his own hero. Using his knowledge of Arcanium from his years with Bruce he creates his own magical artifact and becomes Nightwing.
This is a good place to interject that I’m not changing any of their hero names. I was asked about it a couple times due to the caption, “Red Bow & Sailor Nightwing” on my Dick and Jason designs. It was just a silly caption, because I didn’t want to simply state “Jason and Dick Magical Girl au.” But being serious, I don’t really see a reason to change their names, with the exception of maybe Red Hood, seeing as I didn’t give him a red hood. My au operates on Sailor Moon logic where despite the lack of masks no one recognizes them, and it’s just vaguely explained by magic. I think it would be funny if Bruce chose to wear a mask anyway because he’s that paranoid, but we’ll see when I actually design him. Anyway point is Red Hood is lacking a red hood, maybe he secretly has a red hood on his jacket or maybe he really does go by Red Bow, I’ll leave that up to interpretation.
Arcanium does not just accidentally appear. At the end of the day it’s still a mineral and it’s not sentient, but the magic has an element of “the wand chooses the user.” It’s not so much a “chosen one thing,” so much as the magic can sense intention. It doesn’t care about the morality of the user, the magic is more seeking a symbiotic connection. (Meaning yes rogues can in fact wield artifacts.) Simply put, it wants a host that will be able to wield it. In its raw form the magic is dormant but it seeks to be… not dormant, so when it finds those who actually have the potential to create an artifact and use it, it reveals itself. It was not a coincidence that Martha had the inclination to have the brooch made, it was not a coincidence that Bruce was drawn to his parent’s room, and it was not a coincidence that Dick found Arcanium in the alleyway.
Each of the Bats have their origin moments with their own magical artifacts. I don’t have the whole timeline down, but I will say there was a lot of drama between Tim and Damian, because Tim was forced to hand over the pendant. Even though he technically relinquished it, emotionally the connection wasn’t severed. No one was sure if the transition would work, but Arcanium responds to whoever needs it more and therefore who will use it more. Like canon, Tim is having an awful time during that era. On top of all of it he’s had his title stripped from him and he can’t even argue because if it wasn’t the right move the pendant wouldn’t have responded to Damian. Dick tries to comfort him by telling him that Arcanium will appear for him when he’s ready, but Tim is furious and impatient. So like a well-adjusted person he decides he’s going to engineer his own magical artifact artificially. It goes as well as his attempt to clone Kon does. It’s not until Tim starts to get back on his feet that Arcanium presents itself to him. My thinking is that while Arcanium finds its users when they need it most, Tim’s case is abnormal. His acquisition of the pendant was unconventional from the start since he showed up and demanded to take on the Robin role. Arcanium is drawn to individuals who will actually use its properties. Tim tends to rely more on his own detective work, which renders the pendant’s properties pretty moot. Especially when he’s going off the deep end, he becomes a hermit meaning a) he wouldn’t really need/use Arcanium’s properties and b) he inadvertently limited his own chances of stumbling across it “in the wild.”
In a similar vein I believe Barbara’s journey is abnormal in that she forged her own Batgirl artifact that operates a little differently than the others, seeing as she made it without Bruce’s influence. After the accident she shelved it, maybe she passed it down to Cass, but eventually she gets it back. She created the Oracle identity without it, and for a long time the Batgirl artifact is something she avoids using, until she gets the idea to combine it with her computer to create a magic computer… sort of. She gets a uniform that is basically connected to the computer.
Going back to Damian needing the Robin Pendant more, its reaction to his acquisition was unique. As I mentioned previously the suits typically provide a weapon, well Damian is the exception. Unlike all the other Robin’s Damian didn’t need more weapons in his life, what he needed was guidance. For the first time the pendant granted Damian a magical animal guardian, which is how he gets Alfred the Cat in this au. Despite being an animal lover Damian is extremely pissed at this development. He wanted dual swords or a scarier animal at least. He can’t formally communicate with Alfred the Cat but he understands him intrinsically, though Alfred the Cat seems to be able to understand human speech somewhat. Only Damian seems to be able to truly understand Alfred the Cat. (Cue the antics of his siblings trying to figure out what the cat means or trying to control him in any capacity.) Besides being an animal, Alfred the Cat is also unique in that he doesn’t dissipate when Damian isn’t in uniform the way that the weapons do. Like the weapons he can be summoned by the pendant, but he seems to have existed prior to the pendant’s creation. (I’m toying with the idea that while in uniform, the cat would also get some sort of uniform.)
Before I get into Duke and his abnormalities, I want to address the Speedsters in this au. It’ll make sense after.
So the Flash. I want to say I don’t know if I will get around to creating full designs for them. I do have plans for Bart and maybe Wally, but I have determined how I want their mechanics to operate in the context of the au. Not all the heroes in this au are “magical girls,” in fact I’ve made the executive decision that you have to be human to wield an artifact. Arcanium may have magic in it, but it doesn’t grant its user magical abilities beyond the uniform itself. The speedsters retain their canon origins, hit by lighting blah blah blah, only with one key difference: they had Arcanium on them when they were hit. Instead of engineering an artifact Arcanium fused with their bodies granting them powers. I want to keep the magic transformation aspect (because it’s not a magical girl au without it), so instead of using a physical artifact as a channel for their powers, it’s instead the act of transforming that serves as a gateway to their speed abilities.
To me it was always important to maintain Batman’s identity of not having super powers and having to rely on engineering, which is why the Batfam have to physically build their artifacts. In a similar way I wanted to retain the integrity of the Flash’s identity of being meta but also still human. Which brings me back to Duke. I know in canon that Duke inherited his abilities, but for the sake of the au I’ve decide that he either had an accident when he was young in which traces of Arcanium fused with him or his parents had it in them and he inherited it from them, but regardless it’s less potent, but operates similar to the Speedsters. For years he couldn’t fully transform or use his powers and it wasn’t until— with Bruce’s guidance— he was able to create an artifact that allowed him to channel his abilities and transform. Even though he is a meta I wanted him to still have some of those Batfam qualities in there.
But what about the Superfam? They’re not human so how do their transformations work? The answer is simple: They’re not “magical girls.” At least not real ones, they’re faking. They’re not human (Kon and Jon are technically half human but they still get their abilities from their Kryptonian DNA), and thus cannot forge a connection with Arcanium. Truthfully I’m about to get silly— even sillier than this au already is— but I have decided that Clark is a fake artifact wielder. I like the idea that Batman has been operating longer than Superman has, so when Clark decided to become a hero in his own right his only example of how to style himself was from the bat themed vigilante, who might as well be a cryptid, operating out of Gotham. Only blurry pictures of him existed, so Clark designed his outfit based on his Kryptonian origins and Batman’s aesthetics. He had no idea about the existence of Arcanium or how it worked. This is also why Kon’s design looks so much like his canon outfit with a few magical girl elements (and definitely not because I think the lines in his canon suit already lend themselves well to a magical girl aesthetic and didn’t want to change much). Later when he gets to know Batman more he learns about the transformations, to which he panics and invents his own transformation using Kryptonian tech (ex: MAWS’s transformation). For years Bruce goes crazy trying to figure out Arcanium’s effects on aliens and if it grants them abilities on top of the ones they’re born with, and if Clark has plans to use it as a weapon, and how he managed to forge the connection in the first place— Clark comes clean as a fake once they reveal their identities to each other.
Side tangent but I find it hilarious that Green Lanterns are— by technicality— already “magical girls,” considering they’re granted magical accessories that give them powers and transform their clothing. Hal is very clear with the JL that he is nothing like Batman and constantly feels the need to assert that he is not a magical artifact wielder. The non-human members of the team still lump them together anyway.
Things I haven’t figured out:
- what each of the batfam’s weapons are
- what each of the magical artifacts are
- what to refer to magical artifact wielders as
Stepping outside the canon(?) lore of the au for a minute, obviously I’m redesigning DC characters using inspiration from a genre, because that’s what “magical girl” is. It’s a genre. This is why I refer to it in quotes and don’t call them magical boys, because I am always referring to it as a genre, which isn’t a gendered thing. However, in universe they wouldn’t call themselves magical anything, the same way the characters of Sailor Moon don’t refer to themselves as magical girls, but rather Sailor Scouts. As of right now I’m sort of just referring to them as artifact wielders, but I feel like Bruce would come up with a better name. On a similar note, throughout this whole thing I’ve been referring to Arcanium in it’s wearable state as an artifact. I don’t know if that’s the best term, but I can’t think of anything better for the generalized form of Arcanium outside of it’s raw state. For now I guess it will be “artifacts” and “artifact wielders.”
- how the wonderfam fits into this
I really can’t think of a reason why Wonder Woman would be a “magical girl” in this au. She was born with abilities, she’s not human, and I can’t see her altering her uniform to match the aesthetic. A transformation would just be a waste of time for her. I could to see maybe Cassie or Donna wanting to match with their respective teams, and perhaps maybe that’s why they would alter their uniforms? All I know is I want see Tim, Kon, Bart and Cassie as a matching “magical girl set.”
Fin… for now.
[I’m just going to put this here preemptively, because I’ve gotten messages about turning my au into fics or tiktok skits. You’re free to use this lore HOWEVER you MUST credit me not just for the designs but for the creation of the lore. I’ve put a lot of time and thought into this and I love that people love it, so I just ask for recognition. If you want to make something that’s inspired by my designs or loosely based on my au, just a simple credit for the inspiration is fine. You’re free to change things this is just how my own au operates. Regardless I would prefer to be tagged so that people can find me but also because I’d love to see other’s work.]
Current designs:
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where-does-the-heart-lie · 3 months ago
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ASL brothers HAIKYUU!! AU!!!!!
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Day one of Self Indulgent month for me! I love these three, i love haikyuu, i love killer whales!
(The Naval Academy is this au’s version of marines)
For those who dont know, in Haikyuu (and prob in real life too but in my experience its not as important as they make it in the anime) The "Ace" of the team is the person who primarily scores points via spiking. Theyre the Hard Hitter, basically.
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Design talk👇
Originally, i was gonna make their school mascot just "The Pirates" but i couldnt figure out a clever pun with the school name so i scrapped it in favor of an animal mascot. I figured I would have a wider range of puns that way.
I landed on Orcas as the mascot because I think they really embody a pirate way of life. Theyre strong, hang out in groups of a mix of found family and their actual family, hate the rich, and theyre fun loving! And also im a bit biased because theyre my favorite animal, but hey, i said its self indulgent month, didnt I?
Their school name is a play on the word for Killer Whale (Shachi シャチ) and the word for 'knowledge' (Chishiki 知識), i just smashed the two words together. I'm very proud of myself for coming up with that given i dont speak japanese at all.
Anyway, with their designs, I was taking inspiration from orcas to match the design themes of haikyuu. Ace's hair is bleached on the underside to look like the underside of an orca's body, I made ace and sabo's eyes look more whale-like, the clip in sabo's hair is meant to resemble to spots behind orca's eyes, and I tried to make luffy's hair look more like it's round and spiking down more than i usually do.
Ace is wearing a ''way of the ace" shirt in the first picture, Luffy is wearing a shirt that just says "VOLLEY BALL" because i think it would be funny if he wore a bunch of those Zero-context-poorly-translated-random-english-words shirts that theres a bunch of in Asia. Sabo dyes his hair like delinquents do, but it doesnt much look delinquent~y because of how soft it looks. He means to do it to make him look like a delinquent though. Sabo still has his scars in this au, but he uses his hair, arm braces, and leg braces to cover them up. LUFFY AND ACE HAVE FUNKY SOCKS BECAUSE NO ONE CAN TELL THEM (or me) THEY CANT. Sabo wears athletic socks though because he's a debbie downer. He defends himself saying “It’s practical” and Ace and luffy call him “practically a Debbie Downer.”
Luffy is very good at receiving from growing up with Sabo and Ace practicing setting and spiking with eachother and assigning Luffy as Ball Boy. So he got the libero position from that cuz sabo and ace put in a good word for him. Nepotism.
I didn't feel like coming up with designs for them, but Zoro and Bepo are also on their team (theyre in the fifth image sitting on the right of the line of students). Koala and nami are student managers, Robin is the teacher manager, and Franky is the coach. all other straw hats/luffy friends, rev army comrades, and whitebeard brethren are in the stands. Im trying to keep the ages consistent with how they are in canon.
I didnt do a very in depth research, but i couldnt find what Japanese schools have as mascot costumes. and given no one wears any costumes in haikyuu for their team, i can kind of assume they dont use them over there. But unfortunately for them, I'm American. And part of the backbone of our schooling system, is Vaguely Unsettling Mascot Costumes. My sister says my design for it looks like its from Club Penguin, and i find that delightful. [moment of silence for my billions of fallen Puffles, taken from me in The Shutdown] Anyway.
I thought I was clever coming up with the equivalent of the Marines in this au being a Naval Academy. And their mascot being Seals, famously the animal that gets the absolute Worst Of It from orcas. Get shit onnnnn
I believe thats about it, thanks for coming to my ted talk :)
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theveryworstthing · 2 months ago
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SpaceDancer's request for parasitic roses and Camille Alexander's request for unicorn fops created Angelique.
i now present my newest Charming Little Freak ✨
Angelique is one of those beings that isn't cleanly classified as a fae or a demon. he/it/whatever (roses are perfect plants and so it mostly goes by the pronouns common for the additional sex of his host body in human society because they couldn't care less) is a Rampant. a type of sapient parasitic rose that, over time, transforms the body of their host from a simple quadruped beast to bipedal humanoid (kinda) monster. every Rampant seems to mold themselves into unique forms, and designs often carry over if they somehow manage to get "uprooted" without dying and have to start over with a new flesh body. if Rampants stay rooted then they're borderline immortal even though their hosts are...dead? it's unclear. the Rampant certainly carries memories of what it was like being an animal and their flesh and blood is altered, but alive. the body keeps the score whether they like it or not. but the beast itself, its mind, dies quickly after a Rampant takes root. either from the trauma from becoming a Flowerbed or from the Rampant purposefully putting a thorn through its brain. whether fae or demon, Rampants take. they do not possess. they do not imprison.
Angelique currently lives in a small dying village, spending his time checking in on the aging population as a kind of town housemaid/caretaker and tending to his flower shop/apothecary. most people would say that having a creature like him around isn't a great idea, but this eldritch horror has basically been adopted by every lonely old person in town so good luck getting rid of him.
Fun Facts:
he loves nice soft clothes, meat (blood sausage is his favorite), and (in spite of his goth everything all the time) sunlight.
buzzing sounds make him flustered while prolonged exposure to cut grass smells and cold weather make him anxious.
he's an scary good climber and will forgo a door if he knows someone is on a higher floor of a building and he sees an open window.
always well hydrated. carries around a flask of water at all times and likes to sit outside naked when it rains.
he has many little leafy assistants which are also just him. he's like an octopus. the people in the community assign them all little names and give them unique decorations and he thinks it's really cute.
what is he getting out of staying in this village? none of your business.
he's currently in a weird situationship with 2 local gravekeepers from rival graveyards/religions and the recently widowed agnostic town doctor. everyone in this polycule hates everyone else but him. he's also friends with benefits with my character Brooke, who finds all of this hilarious and is eager to hear about the latest disaster every time he passes through town.
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peanutpinet · 2 months ago
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Soft for You - Sylus x Fem Reader
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Prompt: “Let me kiss it better”
A/N: yes, I’ve fallen into this rabbit hole and all because of Sylus. There’s just something about white haired men with red eyes that’s 190cm. Hates everyone but you T^T I’m such a sucker for these characters and it doesn’t help that I’m on my period so I decided to make a lil one shot of how Sylus would react if you’re on your period and wanting to cuddle but he was in an important meeting
Warning: None, just fluff (not proofread, sorry, was so into writing this)
Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.
“Miss, I don’t think it’s a good idea to disturb the boss right now” Luke mentioned, trying to stop you from walking further down the hall
“Yeah, he’s in a meeting right now. And the meeting, well, it’s not really going that well” Kieran added on. “Some of the low workers were trying to steal his weapons and sell them off to a higher bidding at Linkon because we heard that Linkon is currently trying to find ways to get more intel regarding the boss”
You knew that Linkon was constantly trying to uncover the mysterious Onychinus’ leader. Though they knew his name, they couldn’t find anything regarding what he looked like or any other information about him. That’s why Linkon is willing to pay a hefty amount to those who have been associated with him to gather any sort of intel. But you could care less about what political issue was going on between Linkon and Onychinus. What you cared about was that you were in pain because of your period and you wanted to cuddle with Sylus because somehow, he always helped ease your pain.
Not caring about the twins’ warning, you managed to drag yourself all the way in front of Sylus’ meeting room where you could clearly hear his deep voice echoing along with several other voices. It sounded like the meeting had just begun and you suddenly contemplated on going in and disturbing Sylus just to tend to your pain.
However, on the other side of the door, Sylus already knew that you were in front of the door along with Luke and Kieran since he could see through Mephisto’s eyes with his aether core. Though Sylus wouldn’t mind you coming in, he wanted you to come to him first instead of jumping to conclusion that you were actually looking for him.
He learnt that from past incidents where you were actually looking for Luke and Kieran but Sylus jumped into conclusions and thought you were looking for him.
Right as Sylus was about to start the meeting, he could hear both Luke and Kieran’s frantic voices calling out to you. Without uttering a word, Sylus got up but not before making sure the men in the room stay put in their designated chairs. “None of you get up from the chair or I’ll rip your legs apart from your whole body”
After his calm threat, Sylus went to the door and opened it to find you on the ground with both Luke and Kieran holding onto you. When the twins looked up at their boss, the colour from their faces were slowly drained. “B-boss” the twins managed to utter out as Sylus looked at your weak state, basically trying to hold yourself up with the help of the twins.
Without saying anything, Sylus crouched down and lifted you up in his arms and practically carried you into the meeting room where all the other men in the room were staring.
“U-uh boss? We can bring her back to her room and…” the twins didn’t get to finish their sentences as Sylus used his evol to close and lock the door
To say the men in the room were shock was an understatement because who would have thought that the Onychinus leader could be so gentle towards anyone yet here he was sitting in his chair, further away from the others with you on his lap.
“S-sylus?” you uttered, looking up to see your boyfriend looking at you with soft eyes
“You alright, sweetie? I heard you from in here. You looked like you were going to pass out in the twins’ arms. What happened, sweetie? Did someone hurt you?” Sylus asked, his eyes were searching through your entire body for any wounds but you shook your head and leaned on his chest, wrapping your small arms around his waist
“No. It’s that time of the month. It’s the first day and I don’t know why but it’s painful this time” you whined and Sylus couldn’t help but coo at your vulnerable state that he brought you closer to his chest (if that was even possible with how close the two of you were).
“Shhh, it’s alright sweetie. I’m here” Sylus kissed the top of your head as you hummed in satisfaction. “Sleep sweetie, I’ll be here when you wake up, hmm? I’ll try to keep the meeting short and quick for you” Sylus mentioned as he lulled you to sleep
As he stroked your head like a kitten, Sylus the softie was gone as his eyes looked through the entire room with a cold, sharp gaze that if looks could kill, everyone in the room would be dead by now. “Now, where were we? Ah, right. Where’s my share in the sales, gentlemen? Or did you think that you could fool me that easily by selling my weapons at a higher price by giving away some information about me?”
***
By the end of the meeting, there was practically no one in the room as Sylus dismissed them all into thin air since he needed to be quick.
Sylus almost cursed at himself for almost going too far with the lowlife men in the room until he remembered that you were practically sleeping in his arms.
Taking a deep breath, Sylus went back to look at your sleeping figure, stroking your head as he kissed your forehead before teleporting both you and him back to the master bedroom where Sylus laid you on the bed.
Leaving you to sleep, Sylus decided to shower and cook up something quick and easy for dinner which was steak and creamy mushroom soup to help ease your pain.
In the midst of finishing his cooking, he heard soft footsteps and a yawn slowly getting louder which he knew that it had to be you. Turning around, Sylus saw your now awaken figure sitting by the counter where Sylus was just behind of.
“Here you go, sweetie” Sylus mentioned, placing down a plate of steak with the mushroom soup he made in front of your sleeping figure
“Thank you, Sy. Am sorry I interrupted your meeting” you yawned, drinking some of the soup that he made while Sylus decided to eat across from you
“It was nothing, sweetie. I’ve mentioned it before. If you ever need me, just come to me. No matter where I am, who am I with, or what time of the day it is. I’ll always be here for you” Sylus mentioned, caressing your cheek whilst wiping the excess soup at the corner of your lips
“But what would those men do now they’ve seen your soft side?” you asked, holding his hand that was on your cheek
“They’re none of your concern. Besides, they won’t be able to spread anymore information anymore” Sylus smirked, making you roll your eyes. “You and your evol”
Chuckling at your behaviour, Sylus decided to feed you the dinner he made. “Are you still in pain?” he asked
Thinking about it for a second, you decided to tease him. “A bit. Mainly because you only kissed my head when the pain I’m feeling is at my stomach”
Shaking his head, Sylus went around the counter and cupped your jaw, making you look at his tall figure. “Is that so? Then let me kiss it better”
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nopanamaman · 4 months ago
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How does the stalker business work?
Loredump. October 2023
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A web of alliances, insiders, clients, and territorial disputes - this is what forms the stalker business, a domain that’s as illegal as it is profitable.
Today, we’ll delve into the basic origins and inner workings of this peculiar profession. Let’s find out how these glorified marauders operate!
How did the stalker business develop?
The stalker business emerged almost as soon as the Zone itself was born. But, much like every structure based around the Zone itself, it became more refined - and more corrupt - as years went on.
What started as individuals travelling the Zone completely on their own accord grew into a network of organised groups with their own informants, clientele and designated territories. Yet when it looked like major alliances had become fully solidified with a couple of large groups operating across vast stretches of the Zone, the development of the internet put a dent in the system.
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Yura: Do I really need to know the territorial policies of 70s factions Sergei: YES Olya: No.
As many information-gathering and order-related operations moved online, doing business in smaller groups became a more viable option. Nowadays, the majority choose to operate in gangs of up to 30 people.
Since the business has grown more decentralised and, in a way, accessible, the competition within it has increased dramatically. Territories are less clearly defined and run-ins with members of rivalling gangs are commonplace. When it comes to the human factor, it’s more dangerous than it ever was.
How are the little groups organised?
Modern stalker groups are typically formed around somebody who has direct connections to potential clients or those able to nicely aggregate information about the Zone’s current state. So any group needs at least one product reseller and one strategic leader, which can sometimes be the same person.
The latter is true for Sergei's group, for instance.
He is responsible for processing orders, evaluating the delivered artefacts, reselling them, gathering up to date information about the Zone’s landscape and traffic, and helping the available stalkers plan their trips accordingly. It’s a heavy workload, so having just one person performing all of those tasks wouldn’t be manageable on a larger scale.
Obviously enough, smaller groups are more reliant on the quality of their individual members, even more so when they have a specific role to fill. If we use known members of Sergei’s group as examples, they fit pretty neatly into the following roles:
Radar (радар). Formerly fulfilled by Kolya – a stalker with an outstanding sense for anomalies. Irreplaceable for navigating the more treacherous parts of the Zone. Yura was going to inherit that role.
Doctor (доктор). Self-explanatory. While it’s recommended that all stalkers undergo some form of first aid training, it never hurts to have someone with a deeper knowledge of medicine on the team. This role was filled by Nikita.
Insider (свояк). As the name suggests, it’s a person that helps in various aspects of stalker work by providing client contacts, guard post information, info about other gangs’ operations, and so on depending on their position. Insiders don’t usually take part in actual trips or even work with specific stalker groups, but Olya is built different.
Ram (таран). The muscle of the group. You don’t need to be especially physically fit to navigate the Zone,but when things become dire, it absolutely helps. This was Sergei’s role when he still travelled the Zone.
These are arbitrary designations and many don’t fit into one particular role. That said, creating a balanced group of 3 is easier when there’s a fair understanding of each person’s strengths.
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Yura: Oh, kinda like video game classes! Sanya: Yeah, I guess. Yura: So who would I be? Sanya: Support.
What does the typical work cycle look like?
An order is either placed on an online marketplace or is mailed directly to a trusted trader. The trader then passes the information to the strategist, who analyses the current Zone layout, as well as the latest available information about the placements of various artefacts and anomalies.
The strategist then determines the optimal routes to retrieving the ordered goods. Some use special software to aid in the process. The service price is then estimated based on the difficulty of retrieval and transportation. If the initial price suggested in the order is lower than this estimate, price negotiations will ensue.
Once the minimal price is agreed on, the actual planning starts. A group of three is gathered from the pool of available stalkers. They are all informed about the mission specifics and the route they need to travel - this is when the team can discuss and make adjustments to the plan.
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Nikita: No, no, this route will be way too stressful for Olyechka. Perhaps, she should sit this one out? Olya: If we don't make this route shorter, Nikita won't come back, I'm afraid. Nikita: Well, aren't you a treat. Anyways, Serozha, my leg has been getting worse and I won't make this climb. Olya: Perhaps, you should sit this one out.
After the artefacts are delivered to the trader, their quality is evaluated. Stalkers tend to pick up whatever valuables they find on the way, which means extra cash for them and more work for the trader.
Once the evaluation is complete, stalkers are paid off and the products are resold at a significantly higher price. The artefacts that were specifically ordered are exchanged for the agreed upon amount of money and the extra stuff is peddled to other high-paying customers.
Since selling artefacts is a risky and complicated endeavour in itself, most stalkers are content with the paychecks they get from their trader.
Finally, when everything is done, stalkers may anonymously share information about their trip to the online community. But considering the competitive nature of the business, not everyone is willing to help out their fellow colleagues – or really, not everyone wants to talk about the things they’ve seen.
What is the online stalker community like?
As was already mentioned, the internet has majorly changed how stalkers went about receiving orders and information about the Zone. It has become an important channel for communication and securing deals.
Firstly, all of the relevant platforms are on the deep web. Secondly, all of them are invite-only.
The three major platforms are:
Doska (literally “the board” as in bulletin board)
A marketplace where orders are placed and taken up by anyone interested, as well as an auction platform for selling off artefacts. Widely used by groups and stalkers who have not yet gained established clients.
Krematorii (crematorium)
A closed forum. Discussions, rumours, shitposting.
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10K Crematorium karma
14KKM (as in 14 thousand kilometers, the approximate area of the Zone)
A dynamically updated map of the Zone. User-managed, hence chaotic and unreliable.
Users can mark locations of witnessed anomalies and artefact positions, which others can confirm or downvote. A marking needs to be confirmed by at least 4 people before it is put down and is removed if at least 4 people downvote it. All markings can be commented on.
Most of the community tries to maintain it more or less accurately for the sake of their own future missions, but there are malefactors that will add false markers to it. Should be taken with a huge grain of salt.
Of course, it bears mentioning that there are plenty of fake online communities on the surface web. Those are rife with people roleplaying as stalkers, scammers, kids, and just shitposters. No actual stalker uses those for business.
Rules regarding the Zone
Though the information side of things has changed a lot, the core methodology of travelling the Zone itself remained the same. Sets of universal rules became solidified over the years, which can be described as a mixture of operational protocols and esoteric beliefs.
What are the basic operational protocols?
Basic operational protocols outline best practices for dealing with simple anomalies, traversing the Zone, bypassing guard posts, and handling difficult situations (mercy kills, painless death, encountering other stalkers).
Some common recommendations include:
use projectiles (usually bolts with pieces of cloth attached for visibility) to check for gravitational anomalies;
operate in groups of three - two do the job, the third one watches on;
do not consume any food or drinks you find;
avoid unnatural shadows;
do not stay at the Hollow for over 20 minutes (your body will start to decay);
do not approach the Town (your body will permanently distort);
do not handle fizzy clay without rubber gloves (will leave you debilitated or addicted to the substance);
always send the draisine back;
don't photograph ghosts;
etc.
They are objective results of many years of trial and error. Going against them is likely to end in death or injury regardless of your personal qualities. In other words, there is little dispute over the validity of these rules. The same cannot be set for the second ruleset.
What are stalker beliefs?
The Zone favours the miserable. The desperate, the broken, the lonely. The Zone favours ones that are willing to give up their whole being to her, to completely entrust themselves to her whims. She rewards dejection.
These are common truths to some and hogwash to others. There is no solid proof for any of these claims - how can there be? However, there is no happy stalker, and there is no living stalker without a scar. To many, that's evidence enough.
On top of that, there are some group-specific philosophies. They include:
the Zone is a holy place that needs to be revered;
the Zone is an ulcer of the world that needs to be cleansed;
the Zone is the new stage of Earth’s evolution;
the Zone is divine punishment;
the Zone is a point of contact with a parallel universe;
and many others.
These philosophies dictate how people go about their activities in the Zone in a more ritualistic sense. It’s hard to devise whether or not those little rituals have any effect that isn’t purely psychological.
There is a good number of people that hold a purely cynical view of the Zone. But whether they admit it or not, everyone gradually develops a sense of fear and reverence for it. How they compartmentalise it is a different question.
Conclusion
I could write more about the topic, but as of now, I think this general outline should suffice. The stalker business is a multifaceted enterprise to say the least, so hopefully this article has shed the light on its most essential aspects.
Perhaps, there will one day be a more in-depth follow-up! Who knows. As we continue to unveil the enigmatic layers of the Zone, only time will reveal the full extent of its mysteries... And the engimatic layers of shitty Stalker forums, I guess.
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teenidlegirl · 1 month ago
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess ౨౿  ׅ ۟   ֪ 𝓒hapter 𝓕ive
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ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ military!miguel 𝓍 fem!neighbor!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡
ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. the bond between you and miguel grows a little more as you two continue hanging out together. however, things from the past come back unexpectedly.
ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. fluff, angst, pet names, swearing, backstories (since it’s an AU, george o'hara is a good step-dad in this), brief mention of divorce, mentions of cheating, hint of a crossover
❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜
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getting off work early today was a surprise.
it was a quiet day at the office, not much interesting stories to cover which was very rare in new york. but what surprise you the most is jameson telling you can go home early today. probably the most generous thing he has ever done.
you didn’t question why or hesitate to leave, it was basically a blessing in disguise.
pulling up in the parking garage and parking in your designated spot, your eyes detect a familiar broad figure across the lot. they light up ever so slightly, a your lips subconsciously raised up in a tiny smile.
why not say hi to him? just super quick.
grabbing your purse and exiting your car, you make your way over to him. miguel is kneeling beside his bike, cleaning it with a black rag.
sensing someone approaching, miguel ups look and immediately smiles when he sees you. he worried it would’ve been that annoying neighbor jason from the 6th floor bugging about buying his bike. miguel would never, it’s his precious baby. a huge wave of relief hits him when he realizes it’s you.
he’s glad that it’s you.
miguel quickly takes out his earphones, the wires dangling over the collar of his shirt since he tucked them inside his shirt, and stands up, towering you.
“hey. how was work?” he asks while cleaning his hands with a different, clean rag.
“for once, great. i got off early.”
“that’s good.”
“yeah, it’s just strange because my boss never lets anyone off early but i’ll take it.” you chuckle softly.
“where do you work at again?” miguel recalls you’re a journalist back at the bar with your friends but can’t remember which company you work for.
“the daily bugle.”
“oh, now i see why it’s strange.” miguel chuckles, aware of the company’s, and jameson’s, reputation. “how long have you been writing for him?”
“three years and hopefully more to come.”
miguel smiles softly at your enthusiasm, how hopeful you seem for your future. the sight makes his heart warm. he hopes for more years to come as well.
“so, how long have you had this pretty thing?” you nod your head at his bike.
“7 years, it was birthday present to myself.”
you hum. “my dad used to own a red one.”
“really?” his brows raised up amusingly.
“yeah, it was his first baby but unfortunately had to sell it since he became a dad.”
“must’ve been hard but had to make the sacrifice.”
“he still misses it to this day. he still loves it more than his own damn kids.” you joke.
miguel chuckles at that. “it was a tough sacrifice.” he indulges in your joke. arms crossed over his chest, biceps bulging through his shirt.
“it was.” you laugh. “he’s a big motorcycle fanatic, i think you two would get along well.” a tiny smirk plastered on your lips, arms crossed as well.
for some reason, the idea of meeting your dad seems amusing to him. miguel is curious to know your dad’s preferences and opinions. it would be nice to talk to someone with a similar interest. his buddies in the military aren’t the biggest fanatics nor owned bikes themselves but still managed to talk about them.
“i think so too, looking forward to it.” he mirrors your smirk, mimicking each other’s stance.
the amount of times this man has been able to make your heart flutter is insane yet you adore it.
“is your dad a motorcycle fanatic too?”
you watch his smirk falter a little. the amused expression turns into a solemn one. you recognize it from your last encounter. you notice that whenever you ask or mention his family.
“no, he isn’t.” miguel said solemnly. “he’s more into money and control.” he watches your brows furrowed, a sign for him to elaborate. “he’s a ceo.”
you hum lightly, acknowledging the given information. “which company?”
“the most famous company, alchemax.”
your brows raise in astonishment. “wow. well, he definitely is into money and control.”
you’re aware of alchemax’s reputation, one of the most successful companies in the country. the fact your neighbor is the son of the ceo amazes you. it was something you weren’t expecting.
miguel briefly smiles at your amusement before turning away, tossing the used rag in a small container then grabs the other he was using previously. “we were never close.” he crouches next to his bike and begins cleaning. “my step-dad is more of a fanatic.”
now it makes sense, his parents are divorced. you can’t help but feel sympathy for miguel.
“he owned a harley. i never liked harleys, i was more into yamaha and ducati.” miguel elaborates while cleaning his bike with the rug. “he taught me how to ride, how to clean, gave some tips and tricks.”
flashbacks of those days, george teaching a young miguel about motorcycles in the garage. iron maiden blasting through the stereo george had in the garage as he and miguel endorsed in father-son bonding. sometimes gabriel would join them, learning some information about motorcycles but never grew interested in them like his older brother.
those memories makes miguel smile, ever so slightly.
you remain silent, attentive to every word he says. you yourself imagine a little miguel learning about motorcycles with his step-dad. the domestic thought makes you smile as well.
“he taught me how to do my first wheelie, right in our neighborhood. my mom saw it and she was furious.” he softly chuckles at the silly memory.
you laugh as well. “did you get your ass whooped?”
“no, thankfully.” miguel chuckles. “she said i couldn’t do it again and gave my step-dad shit for teaching me. she was more worried than angry.”
“i don’t blame her.” you snort. “wheelies aren’t safe, especially doing it as a kid.”
he chuckles at your retorting words. “it isn’t a good childhood without busting your ass.”
“alright, fair point.”
you and miguel continue chitchatting when he cleans his bike. you’re in a middle of a sentence when your phone suddenly rings. grabbing it from inside your purse, your face drops at the number on the screen.
you recognize that number immediately.
the one phone number you deleted two years ago.
never thought you’d ever see it again.
your blood sudden goes cold as you stare at the number. phone vibrating in your hand as the ringtone echos through out the parking garage.
it can’t be… there’s no fucking way.
he swore to leave you alone…
he swore to never call you again. well… you demanded him to never call you again, delete your number just like you did with his. you were there when he deleted it, to make he did.
but… he kept it?… these two past years?
that lying, selfish son of a bitch.
the other option would be him redialing by memory.
miguel noticed the sudden silence from you, turning around to see your mortified expression staring at your phone. his brows furrowed. “everything okay?”
his voice makes you snap out of it, quickly blinking away the nasty feeling in your chest. “yeah, it’s fine.” quickly tapping the decline button, you shove your phone back in your purse as if nothing happened.
miguel’s brows furrowed more, confused by your sudden change in behavior. you seemed so mortified, it worried him. whoever that called you, you definitely did not want to answer. as if you were getting a phone call from a serial killer.
miguel did not like seeing you so terrified.
he wants to know who was calling you. should’ve taken a glance at the number so he could dial them himself. if it got you scared like that, miguel wouldn’t hesitate to track the caller ID. being part of the military includes hacking skills.
“are you sure? you seemed scared.” hint of concern laced in his tone.
“no, i’m fine.” you lie, shaking your head. “it was just a scam call, that’s all.” a fake smile painted on your face, concealing your freaking out state.
even if you sound genuine, miguel knows you’re lying. you didn’t stare mortified at your phone for a scam call. his concern level rises even more.
he’s about to ask again but you start walking away.
“luna’s waiting for me, see ya.” you flash him a half-hearted smile before rushing away, entering the apartment building, ignoring miguel calling after you but you keep going, never looking back.
a confused, worried miguel left in the parking garage. he wants to chase after you. he was literally packing away his stuff until he noticed you were long gone, completely out of his sight. vanished into the air like a ghost. his brows only furrowed more.
who the hell called you?
why did you seemed so terrified to answer?
it bothers miguel so much. an uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest. unable to feel relief until those questions are answered.
miguel desperately wants to head over to your apartment. but he figures you wish to be alone, left unbothered. the last thing he wants is to pry. it seems personal and miguel wants to respect that.
but that doesn’t stop the unease sensation bubbling inside him, consuming his body.
with a sad sigh, he finishes packing up and leaves.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃
it’s been four days since that asshole called you.
you were scared he would call back but thankfully he didn’t. that fucker hurt you, why the fuck would he try to reconnect with you?
two years later? no mames güey.
work has been a distraction but also busy. jameson on everyone’s ass like always. one day you had to pick up eddie after his car broke down. he spilled the beans about him and anne have been talking. two old friends reconnecting in a slow process. it’s a great start for them, you wish them well.
after working endlessly, it’s your day off which means relaxing time. you take luna out on a walk around your block. it’s perfect weather for a nice walk out. rays of sunshine casting down on you from the vibrant sun, relishing the warmth. the sky cleared from clouds, only the gorgeous blue atmosphere.
the sunlight makes luna’s fur glow. a white fluff ball wandering around. her adorable little pink bows and matching leash. yes, you’re that type of pet owner who dresses up and stylize their pets. she’s your baby, you dress her up however you like.
as you’re heading back to your apartment building, a figure slowly approaches you.
you smell it… you smell him.
you know his signature scent from miles and miles away. that fucking cologne you adored. the intoxicating scent consuming your senses.
looking forward, your heart fucking drops.
no no no… it can’t be.
he can’t be here.
that son of a bitch who broke your heart. betrayed you with his disgusting behavior and lies. who pathetically begged you to not leave, said he needed you and couldn’t live without you.
why did he need you when he was fucking another woman? in your shared bed, not to mention.
you never forgot that night.
two years later, it still haunts you sometimes.
your blood suddenly goes cold, just like when you got that phone call the other day. his phone call.
clad in a basic black shirt and jeans. an outfit you loved seeing him wear. the asshole knew what he was doing. dressed up like that running back to you.
the asshole who hurt you.
joel fucking miller.
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @marshhbs @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @watertribeissuperior @lovehadlovelost @auiciqa @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @miguelsfavwife @asterrrrose @glossygreene @aefin @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @jadeloverxd @sirendyes @leahnicole1219
© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡
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crusty-chronicles · 1 year ago
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is there any chance you could add killua for the airheaded but strong s/o headcanons? If not, then no worries, I just love how you write them!
Yeah, I don't mind but it's gonna be platonic because I'm a little iffy about writing for him romantically. He's just a boy 🥺🥺🥺 This is mostly a crack fic.
BONUS AIRHEADED S/O HEADCANNONS: Killua (HxH)
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Honestly tried to kill you at one point
Oh you're strong huh?
Then proceeds to hit you with everything he's got, only to see that it hardly affected you. (Kinda like the way he first treated Zushi)
After that he's petty, but impressed.
Congratulations 🎉🎉🎉 You've earned his respect 🥳🥳🥳
You're basically Gon 2.0
And he hates it
Cannot take you two anywhere
"We should break the lock to get in." Gon suggested.
"Are you stupid?" You scoffed.
"What's the point of having a door if you're just gonna break it?"
And Killua is momentarily at peace that at least one of you has some sense. Until you open your mouth again.
"Obviously we should smash open a window."
And Gon is nodding along enthusiastically
"You're right! What would we do without you 🤩"
And Killua is just 😮‍💨.
He is the parent of the group and I will die on this hill
If Gon's the sun, you're a nuke
He's constantly dragging you away from Hisoka
Nope. Not today
Why do you insist on talking to strangers.
No scratch that.
Why do you insist on talking to creepy strangers????
It gives him a massive headache everytime you almost get abducted.
Honestly thought about putting a tracker on you to avoid this happening.
But then he remembers you're practically indestructible so he drops it.
Is afraid Illumi will come for you and hurt you.
He was never allowed to have friends, and after Illumi threatened you and Gon at the Hunter Exam, he's very protective.
But then he remembers something you said after Greed Island.
"The three of us are all gonna become the best of the best. We're gonna get all wrinkly and old together and still kick butt!!! We're gonna stick together no matter what!"
And it temporarily quells the fear of his brother.
It makes him look forward to that outcome and gives him something to fight a little harder for.
When it comes to fighting, he does get a little envious of how you and Gon just rush in without thinking.
And how you always manage to win despite the circumstance.
But he never feels left behind because of it.
Like with Gon, he won't baby you, just call you an idiot and move on.
You fell?
Get up loser.
You can't read?
Find somebody else to translate. Or he'll make you do it and be laughing nonstop while you struggle to pronounce the word "Apple"
"Gon what color's an orange?"
"An orange is the same color as it's name. Just like a lemon."
Please somebody take you two back to first grade.
Killua is begging.
Even though he won't baby you, he'll rush as fast as he can if you're in actual danger.
You got caught by the phantom troupe?
"Are you completely brain dead!?!!? Where are you!?!?"
Now he regrets not putting a tracker on you.
"This nice clown man gave me candy and told me to follow him." You tell him over CALL.
"HISOOKAAAAA!!!!"
He is screaming and panicking.
You trespassed into the mountains his family lives to see him.
"WHY???? DON'T YOU KNOW ABOUT MIKE!?!?"
And when he gets there he sees you rubbing the monstrous canine's tummy. Petting him and calling him a "Good Boy."
Names he has called you out of spite: Idiot, Moron, Dummy, Psycho, Airhead, Ditz, and probably Pea Brain
On the bright side, you are Alluka's favorite person.
"Give me your ribs."
"Oh, are you hungry? Let's see if we can't find you a smokehouse for those ribs."
And it baffles both souls so much that Nanika accepts that as fulfilling her command.
Plus you have endless amounts of energy that works to drain both girls out. Even when they've both already swapped twice.
Killua designates you her official babysitter when he's busy.
You are a complete lunatic and moron, but you're one of the people he trusts the most.
Even if he does complain about you a lot.
MASTERLIST
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ruruvxz · 3 months ago
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have u seen the new pics of yunjin😍😍office siren yunjin has me on a chokehold
Please write boss!yunjin and worker!reader and basically everyone has a crush on her, but she tries to be so badass but she has the strongest crush on u. And it’s so awkward when u find out she has a crush on u, basically if uve ever read “finding secretary Kim” it’s like that☺️
-🍒
“Finding designer L/N”
Creative director!Huh Yunjin x Designer!Reader
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↳synopsis: Huh Yunjin was the most prolific fashion designers in the industry, being the head of the “Huh House” she acquired the attention of plentiful suitors. Thinking she would never find love, she finally set her sights on one of her subordinates yet messes up everything completely when she sent a message confessing her love, to all her workers.
↳cw: swearing, overworking, mean!yunjin, rookie designer, pure fluff, yunjin absolutely embarrassing herself, dense reader, fictional character for plot, mentions of intoxicating, mentions of sexual acts
↳wc: 3.5k
a/n: hehehe i love finding assistant manager kim, so the the plot is basically the same thing minus the freaky deaky stuff. also her post saying “bayonetta” made me absolutely bust… sigh i love my wife so much and she doesn’t even know who i am. i absolutely loved writing this it was so fun
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The day you got the acceptance letter to work under the "Huh House" a group filled to the brim with promising designers, you were more than ecstatic. Not only with the fact this could thicken your portfolio twice fold, but this also meant that you got to work with THE Huh Yunjin. She was undoubtedly one of your "celebrity"-like crushes, but her whole career was astonishing. Being the same age as you, you couldn't help but envy such a successful woman, and you knew she was a tad bit mean, but who wasn't?
Needless to say, you could barely contain yourself as you stood in front of the work facility, your palms sweaty as you held the doorknob. The thought of finally beginning a designing job next to one of— if not your favorite designers (not including Karl Lagerfeld, Miuccia Prada, or Vivienne Westwood) was almost a dream come true. If it wasn't for the fact that woman was the most viscerally heinous person you've ever encountered!
Before you could even peer your silly little head into the building you felt someone shove you inside with their broad shoulder, scoffing obnoxiously loud as they made contact. And without even apologizing, the woman continued to plow through you, paying no mind to the fact you were carrying a thick binder filled with your precious designs. But you were no pushover, and couldn't help but almost curse them out—well not until you locked eyes on who just assaulted your shoulder.
Furrowing your eyebrows as you jolted your eyes at the woman, it didn't take long before your mouth was slightly ajar as the redhead with her occupational lenses peered through oval glasses. Rightfully, trembling at her cold gaze before she spoke, clearly about to tell you off on your first day.
"You should learn to move out the way, dear." She hastily spoke, her eyes softened just a smudge, before ripping her gaze from yours and continuing to strut away. How surprising you thought, usually all the horror stories you heard from ex-designers (that so happened to hook you up with the position you're in now) always ended their stories with Yunjin acting out in some hostile way. But she took that a lot better than you expected, maybe it wasn't going to be all that bad!
Before you could regain your composure after being knocked down by the redhead, you felt yourself getting shoved back down once more. Looking up you fixated your gaze on the woman standing over you, she apologized profusely, reaching out a helping hand. She was much nicer than Yunjin just by this base interaction, so you happily expected her hand as she pulled you back up. She explained that she was a fellow designer named Jasmine L/N, someone who worked directly under Yunjin and who helped her procure various items for the Creative Director.
She was surprised to learn that both of you had the same last names and continued to explain that 2 other designers under the house also had the exact same last name. After a small pleasant conversation, you both ended the interaction quickly as the clock continued to tick off the seconds. Giving her a courteous wave, you jogged over to the assigned meeting room to get introduced to the whole system and facilities in the company. It was a little extraordinary that it so happened that the person guiding you happened to also have the same last name, but it was a small world after all.
After the short tour ended, your escort assured you to get settled as there were no upcoming shows to prepare for. Since everything was underwhelming at the moment, it gave you enough time to explore a little more. Taking in all the twists and turns of the facility, it was unexplainable and huge, but not unexpected. Each room was tailored completely to Yunjin's aesthetics or what she found was exceptionally unique, and her office specifically was eye-catching. The walls leading to her office were plastered with photos and awards congratulating her for her success and everything else of that sort.
If it was anyone else, you most definitely would've thought they were stuck up to pridefully display everything like this, but it was somehow different with her. You were in awe that she could achieve so much, that your hands mindlessly rubbed the plaque with her name beautifully etched onto the gold plating. It didn't take long for you to gain attention from a certain someone, may I say, the owner of that plaque you were caressing so gently.
"That tag is beautiful isn't it?" The redhead spoke up, slinging your head over your shoulder in surprise, I mean, you shouldn't be all that shocked since this was next to her office but you were still a little scared.
"Gah! Oh my— you scared me!" You spit out, quickly removing your hands away and tucking them behind your back as you rotate your body towards her.
"Haha, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that." Yunjin smugly laughed as she brought up her hair to tie it into a beautifully messy bun.
"No— it's my fault I shouldn't have been lurking around here." You sheepishly admit as you pull your hands from your back to fidget with your fingers embarrassingly. Only making her chuckle louder as she examined your body movements, she would've probably scared you off by now, but by some odd circumstance, she didn't.
If it wasn't for your preconceived negative notion that she was absolutely terrifying, you probably would've found her endearing by the way she giggled, whilst pushing up her glasses to not falter it for its original position. Honestly, everything about her was charming in some odd sense, like how she came closer to you to explain how she won each and every one of these achievements by herself. Undoubtedly cocky, but it was so flattering the way Yunjin carefully explained everything to your basic understanding, she was full of herself for sure. (Or maybe she was just trying to impress a certain someone.)
"Oh and this one," Yunjin pointed at one of the brightly colored magazines framed perfectly on the wall, which had her face and a full body shot plastered smack dab in the middle. "This was for a photo shot for 'Dazed', not one of my personal favorites as they only really cared for my facial aesthetics not my work." She mumbled memories of all those discouraging discussions about her becoming a designer flooded her mind.
"I mean, usually when someone's work is beautiful, the apple doesn't stray that far from the tree doesn't it?" You mindlessly commented as your eyes fixated on her portrait, and back to the old designs she created during her high school days. "Your works really inspired me to be a creative myself, I used to be so insecure about producing my own line for the longest time, and seeing someone my age do it really put me out of my shell. Y'know?"
Yunjin turned her head, just enough to meet your gaze with a side eye, you honestly thought she was offended, but that was far from the truth. She saw herself in you, a young designer so eager to work without any real goal but only their passion inside of them, it was incredible. Yunjin was swayed that anyone, let alone someone who showed so much promise, took inspiration, from her?!
"Oh." She stuttered as she snatched her gaze away from your face, looking towards an old portrait from high school sophomore year, the year she was thrusted into the industry. "Thank you... Y/N was it?"
"You know my name?— Oh, and yes that's it."
"I think you should get back to work." She mumbled, turning her head sharply away from you, her cheeks burning ferociously red, but she was Huh Yunjin, she couldn't show any of this, let alone to her subordinate. "Oh okay!" You chirped as you backed away from her, wondering about her sudden change of emotions.
It had been months since that interaction, and to be honest, you haven't seen her ever since then. Particularly due to the fact that she suddenly booked multiple shows in the span of a few months to launch her spring collection mainstream. Though it was extremely exhausting, to say the least, you enjoyed working with your colleagues, and the fact you could finally produce physical copies of your designs. Your designs were so well loved that you started to get lost in your craft, working day and night tirelessly to make the most breathtaking pieces.
So this day wasn't any different, you had slept on the faculty room's couch and was abruptly woken up by someone aggressively tapping your shoulder and calling out your name. "L/N... L/N? L/N!" A woman shouted in your ear, springing you awake, a little disoriented since you just woke up in an unfamiliar place you usually wake up to.
"You're finally awake, I got you coffee." The woman said next to your ear, jerking your head to the side to find you were at eye level with your boss who was leaning down to your sitting level. "AHH! You scared me!" You squeal, dumbfounded by how casual she was about the fact you slept so soundly in her facility. This undoubtedly caught the attention of fellow designers as you could feel some eyes peer towards you and Yunjin.
"I apologize, take this to wake you up," Yunjin suggested as she handed you a tall cold Spanish iced latte, in contrast to the fact she brought the others a small shot of americano. As quickly as she handed it to you, she scurried away back to her office, as if she just completed the most rigorous quest of her left. It hadn't taken long for everyone to crowd around you, wondering what just happened as Yunjin hated interacting with her subordinates let alone going out and by everyone's coffee.
As you all converse, you were quickly shut up by the fact that someone brought up the Milan Fashion Week deadline that was inching ever so closely. Mentally cursing yourself out, as you only completed a small minority of the pieces you were working on before crashing out on the couch. You lugged yourself up and over to your workstation, quickly pulling up the designs on your computer as a reference. Forgetting to close your other tabs as you were too unbothered to care about that at the moment.
You scanned through your material checklist and back at the dress you were designing to figure out if you needed to grab some more fabrics. It so happened that you were out of some decorative textiles, and needed to haul your way to the back to grab some. As you do so, you pull on your headphones and jam out to some tunes, ignoring your coworkers looking bewildered at their computer screens. Whatever they were looking at was none of your business as you needed to finish your dress quickly.
"Such procrastinators gosh!" You mumbled to yourself, not batting an eye at the fact they were all stealing glances at their computer and then at each other. It wasn't until another coworker "James L/N" stood proudly in his seat, throwing his fabrics all over the place that it caught your attention. You tossed your headphones to hang around your neck and walked towards him, questioning why he was acting out irrationally.
He responded by grabbing his monitor screen and turning it towards you, with a message that was sent on the company's group board displayed brightly. You titled your head as you read it out loud, with others eagerly awaiting your reaction.
"Dear L/N,
I hope you enjoyed the coffee I brought, I want to tell you how I feel.
Would you like to grab a drink together after you're done?
- Huh Yunjin"
You were most definitely appalled as you continued to read, that the stoic creative director Huh Yunjin, was confessing her feelings. This was astonishing, the utter fact she'd like anyone, let alone her subordinate was a red flag in itself, but your coworker, James, was jumping around like a crazed bear.
"What the— James wait— You aren't the only one with that last name though." You spoke up, recalling the three other people with that last name, not including yourself of course. "Jasmine, Daniel, and Matteo..." Another designer spoke up, instantly shooting James down, as he sat back in his seat with a winded expression. You felt a bit bad about how defeated he looked but he was kind of a jackass, so even if Yunjin did like this loser out of anyone, you were glad he didn't think so.
Jasmine, the woman you first met, spoke over everyone, finding it uncomfortable why anyone would think this message was directed at her, as she was happily engaged and had known Yunjin for far too long. "It isn't mean dumbass," She shot a glare at everyone, wanting to make it dead clear, "Besides there's still 2 other people we need to check off, Matteo and Daniel."
After a lengthy discussion, a crowd of people, all of which consisted of the fashion designers, formed a circle in the break room to figure out who this designer was. You didn't speak up as you didn't find anyone but Jasmine suited for the pick. Matteo was stuck up, and cared strictly about others' personal opinions of him, Daniel on the other hand was almost about as bossy and uptight as Yunjin. Both of them were unlikely partners for Yunjin but to each their own.
You found this whole debacle irritating, yet you had an excuse to leave the conversation as you genuinely needed to go back and finish up all your pieces. You worked tirelessly, eating up your whole afternoon and even biting time into the night as you continued to work. Only being interrupted by your 3 other coworkers wondering if they'd be the perfect suitor for Yunjin. Thankfully Jasmine had enough time to yank them away and send one of the slackers back home to rest.
As the clock struck 10:30, you spent the next 6 minutes working and glancing at the two other people left in the building. Matteo and Daniel, who had been preparing themselves after work for your boss, it was kinda freaky, but you know what, you were beyond tired to care. And to be fair you were only still here to pack up your stuff and also see the both of them get brutally turned down.
"Ah, you three are still here?" The redhead questioned as she pushed herself out of her office, still distraught about what she had done prior. "You both should go home, it's far too late." Yunjin imposed as she shot them her iconic icy glare, without a hitch, they scurried away like mice.
"Ah L/N, are you heading home now?"
"Yup! Just packing up all my paper designs and I'll be out of here." You replied, trying to hide your joyous laughter while you watched both the boys pack up and leave the building.
"I'll drive you home."
"Oh alright! Thank you!"
The car ride was far more awkward than you'd originally expected, you both sat in silence with the radio playing softly in the background, with Google Maps speaking loudly to add some "spice" to the ride. Yunjin's eyes never faltered from the road, almost as if she was trying her utmost to not look at you.
"Thank you for all your hard work today Y/N, I know how difficult it is to pump out so many designs in such a short period." Finally breaking the silence she complimented how tirelessly you worked, while she gave you a glance and back at the traffic.
"Thank you Ms.Huh! Honestly it's nothing, I love working for you, it must be Ms.Huh who's having a hard day today—" Whoops, you didn't process her words fast enough to understand she was talking about your hard work and not about having a hard day.
"I'm so sorry, I meant that—" You stumbled over yourself trying to explain the situation, "What I was trying to say—" You stop yourself momentarily to handpick the perfect words to tell her. "It's just that you always seem so stressed and uhm..."
"I'm sorry Y/N." She cut you off.
"I'm so sorry," Yunjin spoke up pushing her head down onto the stirring wheel, the street light illuminating her blushing red cheeks.
"Oh no! It should be me apologizing Ms.Huh—"
"Please call me Yunjin, we're the same age after all."
"Yunjin— I didn't want to say this but, everyone was so curious about who you meant to send that message to, it seemed so serious. If you sent that to me I'd be so scared!" You admitted, fiddling with your hands as she lifted her head from the wheel and turned her head towards you. Yunjin was far too deep into what she did, that at this point she didn't care about what she was about to say next.
"Actually..."
"I meant to send that to you, Y/N L/N."
You turn your head towards hers as she blushes madly, her glasses resting on the tip of her nose, not bothering to push it back up to her eyes. It was all so clear now, that was your last name after all wasn't it? And she was talking about giving you coffee in the message, so why did you assume it would be anyone else?
"Oh!" You hiccuped, trying to decipher that dreadful look in her eyes, the anticipation killing her, awaiting what you would say next. "I.. Uhm... would you still like to grab a drink with me?"
You arose from the plush comforter your head pounding from a clear hangover, the bright New York sunlight hit your head like a train. Everything was once again disorienting like when you awoke in the facility room, your surroundings were completely unfamiliar, and your body was covered only with a baggy sweater and your undergarments. Your body was sore and drowsy, scanning your surroundings everything was unfamiliar yet beautifully decorated with whites and greys.
"What the..." You continued to inspect the room, slowly moving to the edge of the bed, ready to leave until a familiar delicate hand yanked you back down. As if you were in a horror movie, you snapped your head at the woman, realizing it was that darn redhead again. Which added more questions in your head than answers, why exactly, are you in her house?
Replaying the memories in your head, you connected the dots, oh, you may-haps slept with your superior, and creative director of the fashion line you worked on. You weren't a drunkard nor a lightweight so how could you forget such a detail?
"Y/N, don't go— not yet." She groaned, clearly still tired from last night. (You both came back to her house after only a few drinks, the both of you somewhat drunk but one more plastered than the other, actually— you were practically wobbling under her trying to get in. She led you to the living room to sober you up, as you kept spewing some nonsense about how much you idolized her. Talking about how jealous you felt when everyone was claiming that message was meant for them, and how much you loved her the moment you set your eyes on her. She was amazing, and you kept reiterating that as she listened carefully, falling deeper for you as you continued to yap all the alcohol out of your system. Finally passing out in her arms for a few moments before jolting awake. Yunjin expresses to your mainly sober state how much your speech meant to her, and how she felt the same way. Cutting her off with short kisses around her cheeks and then to her lips. And the rest was history.)
"I'm not going anywhere, I'm just stretching." You lied, hiding your embarrassment as you leaned down to kiss her forehead. Her expression softened as you pulled away and began stroking her dark red hair A small smile filled her lips, just for a short while, before she dozed back to sleep at your touch. When she didn't look like she was about to maul someone, she was very much adorable.
"I'm gonna go get us some breakfast okay? I'll be back in a few minutes Yunjin."
"Mhm..." She mumbled, pushing her head back into the pillow as she fell deeper into slumber.
“Be right back Ms.Huh.”
She lifted her head back up, clearly a lot more awake than last time, registering the name you called her. “I said call me Yunjin.” She barked, offended by the change in honorifics, letting you tease her, before stroking her head once more, running your fingers through her hair. “My bad, Yunjin.”
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flamingo-writes · 1 year ago
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A Dinner Invitation — Hobie x Reader
Based off my Gal In The Chair headcannons
Genre: fluff, slice of life. Plotless fluff basically.
Warnings: none. Perhaps cursing? I don’t remember, at this point my brain writes curse words like they’re not actually curse words.
Summary: Miles gets a dinner invitation at Hobie’s universe. Not only Miles walks into Hobie’s home, which is as artistic as he expected, but much greener than he imagined. And there he meets Hobie’s girlfriend, equally artistic, perfectly matching Hobie’s energy. Seeing Hobie so relaxed and affectionate feels weirdly intimate and refreshing to Miles.
Word Count: 1.2K words
A/N: I’ve been daydreaming of all sorts of scenarios revolving the Gal in The Chair. So, be ready for the spam 😩 if you’d like to be tagged, let me know.
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“Home, sweet’eart!” Hobie said walking inside the seemingly chaotic place, as Gwen, Pav and Miles followed him.
Miles looked around, surprised by the amount of things lying around. It was chaotic but didn’t look dirty. Almost as if everything had been purposefully place where it was. It was a small apartment with hardly any furniture. But there were art projects, materials and plants everywhere. Plants everywhere. The confusion only seemed to grow with every step, the apartment smelled like a woman lived there, but didn’t smell like Gwen.
And still puzzled by what went on between Hobie and Gwen, specially after he’d said she’d left her jumper, among the things he’d heard, he was sure there was something going on between them. And judging by the apartment, —and the smell of girl’s perfume—, it did seem like Hobie might live with one.
As Miles felt simultaneously more confused and somewhat relieved, he saw Hobie walk up to a girl working on a mannequin, fixing some clothes. He kissed the top of her headache wrapped his arms around her waist.
“That looks cool…” He purred. “Sexy, even…”
The girl giggled and looked over at Hobie as they kissed.
Miles sighed relieved.
“Will you model that for me later today?” Hobie asked with a flirty smirk.
“I can’t. This is a personalised piece Julie asked for…” The girl said looking over her shoulder at Hobie with a gentle smile and loving stare. “How did it go?”
“Messy,” Hobie said letting go of the girl. “awful, but Gwendy and Pav are here and I brought a new friend…” He said.
Pav yelled your name as you put down the needles and pins and greeted Pav in a tight hug. You let out a soft giggle as Pav lifted you up effortlessly, as if it had been ages since he last saw you.
“Who…?” Miles whispered confused.
“Hobie’s girlfriend,” Gwen said.
“A true renaissance artist,” Hobie said before introducing you to Miles, telling him your name. “Buy her stuff. She personalises and fixes your clothes, also does that with secondhand clothes. She also designs them as well as handmade Jewellery. Brings your plants back to health, she also reproduces and sells them, if you ever want to gift your mum some pretty plants or flowers…Helps me setting up my art shows, and set up everything for a gig. She’s also my left hand, best friend, lover, and favourite person on earth,” Hobie said proudly as you blushed lightly as Pav let you go from his tight bear hug.
“I’m not as interesting as Hobes just made me sound…” You said modestly walking up to Miles.
“But she is,” Pav intervened and walked into the kitchen, parading around the place like he lived there.
“I’m…Miles…” He said with an awkward chuckle as he extended his stiff hand towards you.
“Nice meeting you Miles. Coffee? Tea? We also have plain ol’water…Juice…”
“N-no thanks…” Miles chuckled awkwardly. “I’m fine. Thank you…” He said as he looked around. “So you do all of this for a living?”
“Sadly, in this highly capitalist and consumerist society, people do not appreciate the handwork of a true artist…” Hobie said as Miles looked slightly puzzled at him.
“That’s Hobie for, I do this full time even though it’s a lot of stuff, I barely manage to make a living out of this,”
“No way!”
“People don’t buy plants nor get their clothes fixed everyday,” You shrugged.
“Hey!” Pav said defensively as he went into the kitchen.
“Pav always buys plants, though” You chuckled. “Hobie helps me a lot too, the both of us manage to keep this whole place afloat,” You sad looking at Hobie with a dreamy smile.
Hobie from the kitchen looked at you with a cheeky flirty smirk and winked at you.
“Buy your mother a nice set of earrings and a plant, kid…” Hobie told Miles as he walked out of the kitchen with a cup of chai.
“My mother really liked the flowers I bought her last week,” Pav said. “Also the necklace and earrings set you made for her!”
“I’m glad, Pav. You know where to find me…” You said happily as Hobie wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple as he handed you the cup.
“I made some chai, if anyone wants some” Pav said happily.
You took a sip out of Hobie’s mug and hummed.
“God, no matter how many times I do it, it’s never as good as Pav’s…” You sighed softly.
“My man’s got a talent,” Hobie said.
“Gotta go back to that shirt I was working on,” You announced. “Are you guys staying for dinner?”
“Gwendy and I can handle dinner, you go do your thing, luv” Hobie said as he grabbed your jaw in his long fingers and kissed you sweetly. “Call you when it’s done,” He said softly as you hummed and stole one last peck from him before handing him back his cup and went back to the mannequin.
“Can you bring me my own cup of chai?”
“Anything for you, princess,” Hobie said with a soft voice as he turned around and went into the kitchen.
Miles looked at you as you went back to measuring and putting pins on the mannequin. Quickly absorbed by your work.
"Gorgeous, isn’t she?” Hobie said with a proud smirk. "C’mon, y’all wanna have dinner, y’all better help…"
Despite the chatty mess of laughs and sarcastic comments, Miles was still intrigued with how you never seemed to lose focus from your work. Even when they were being crazy loud. Blending naturally into the commotion, Miles felt comfortable between all of them. Wondering whether if it was because they all were spider people, or simply because the over all energy marched his own. He had friends before, but never a group of friends like this one. He felt absolutely free, being able to behave naturally without the fear of being judged or stared at.
Pav took over the kitchen, making most of the work himself. While the food was ready, Pav and Gwen talked about spices as Miles kept looking around intrigued. At some point, Hobie disappeared from the scene, and as Miles was looking for Hobie, his eyes dragging, looking over every detail in the apartment. Eventually, he spotted Hobie’s tall figure towering over you.
As you set down your tools, and Hobie pulled a chair next to you, he cupped your face in his large hands and pulled you close, kissing you sweetly. Something about Hobie being the badass and cool punk, a guy who was seemingly ready to start a coup d’état anywhere, now looked like the biggest softy he’d ever seen, while still looking cool somehow.
Feeling weirdly love sick and jealous, he didn’t intend to stare as Hobie and you kissed. He thought about how good it must be to have what the two of you had. He glanced over at Gwen, feeling his crush poking at him, twisting his guts as Gwen met his stare and smiled. She then looked over at the both of you.
“Aren’t they gross?” Gwen asked with a playful smirk.
“I think they’re cute,” Pav intervened.
Miles chuckled and gazed back at you, as you were now hugging Hobie. Your hand disappearing in his wicks, as his face was nuzzled against the crook of your neck and his arms around your waist.
“I think they’re cute. Perhaps slightly gross…” Miles joked.
“It makes me kinda jealous. I wish I could get the courage to ask Meera out on a date…” Pav sighed.
“We can hear ya talking over ‘ere, lads…” Hobie chuckled.
“You’re so nosy,” You chuckled kissing Hobie’s head.
“We knew that,” He replied as he pulled away from the hug and stared at you, cupping one of your cheeks in his large hand. “Absolutely gorgeous,” He said as he leaned forward and stole a peck from your lips. “How’s dinner, Pav?”
“Basically done. One or two more minutes,” He said.
“C’mon, Miles. Let’s set the table,” Gwen said gently bumping her elbow on Miles’ ribs.
~~~~~~~
Don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed it! Feedback is also very welcome and always makes my day 🥺
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sadesluvr · 8 months ago
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The Hills (Part One)
JJ hates his menial job, but there’s a certain customer he lusts and loathes in particular.
(JJ Maybank x Reader)
A/N: This is based off of my Poolboy! JJ idea, and mean girl! Reader was the most popular (I'll probably write for a Housewife! Reader too though) This is my first time writing for OBX, but I’ve been meaning to put this out for a while🤭…I have ALOT more scenarios to play with, so this will be Part I of 3, but can also work as a one shot if I get lazy. 
Not fully proofread, so sorry for mistakes!
Enjoy, and minors DNI.
Word count: 2.4K
Tags: SMUT / Poolboy! JJ / Mean!Kook! Reader / Degradation / Hatefucking / Teasing / LOTS of sexual tension / Unprotected sex / Light biting / JJ is feral and a little scary but it’s hot / Creampies
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“Halle, grab the middle one would you? That way I can see Daddy on the golf course,”
Barf. JJ already knew what time it was.
For a girl who had it all, your life was rather methodical. You and your two friends would strut to the pool at 2PM on a Saturday, straight after your one o’clock tennis lesson and hours before you’d be whisked off to some fancy restaurant for dinner. That was your life, which, on multiple occasions, he’d heard you describe as “totally unfair”.
Sarah Cameron may have been the Kook Princess, but you were very well next in line. You were always draped in some kind of designer; was never one to miss a manicure, and kept yourself camera ready, as if there were a paparazzi around you. Still, you may as well have been, as you had all the friends, lovers and admirers a celebrity would’ve had.
However, you seemed to lack one special, but huge thing - basic fucking decency. 
In short, you were a bitch. 
And there was no one you were a bigger bitch to than JJ.
He never believed in your false virginal, ‘Daddy’s Little Princess’ spiel, and with good reason. You were snide, ungrateful, and had never even said as much as a ‘Thank you’ to him. 
Once, you’d even managed to ’accidentally’ spill a drink on him.
Without a doubt, today was going to be one of those days.
“Hey, poolboy? We’ve been here for ages and you haven’t even gotten us an umbrella. Do you want me to fucking die?” you scoffed, brow raised expectedly as your two friends, Bree and Halle and snickered beside you. 
“Chill out, ‘kay?” JJ said, rolling his eyes. “They’re in the same place they usually are. It’s not like you can’t do it yourself,”
“Do I look like a slave? Fetching umbrellas is what you get paid to do. Now hurry up and get us some Margaritas while you’re at it,” you said sweetly, a fake smile plastered over your face as you waved a hand dismissively.
Clenching his jaw, JJ was about to retort when one of his seniors, a middle aged man rather indistinguishable from the rest, intervened.
“Is there a problem here ma’am?”
“I don’t know, JJ,” you retorted pointedly, his name laced in venom as you spoke. And yes, you did know his name. Poolboy just rolled off of the tongue better. “Do we have a problem?”
Wincing, the blonde ran his fingers through his hair before shaking his head.
“Nah,” he said through gritted teeth. “None at all.” 
He disappeared with a click of his tongue, blatantly aware of your smirk as you peeled off your scarf that hugged your waist. The lacy fabric danced off of your body to expose your torso and bare legs, glistening in the summer heat like a mirage in the middle of a desert.
As JJ clenched his fists, he couldn’t ignore the similar tightening sensation in his shorts, and quickly readjusted himself. 
He just couldn’t give you that kind of satisfaction.
Not for now, at least.
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“Yikes, I know her —“
“—How could you not?”
“So Pope’s one of her groupies…Got it.”
“I am not one of her ‘groupies’, okay? She’s got the whole island palm of her hand. Of course I’d know of her!”
“Whatever…Groupie,”
The Pogues were sitting at the Chateau, forced to listen to JJ’s rant about ‘Little Miss Brat’ from the country club. It was obvious to all of them that JJ, though not quite yet in love, certainly had a crush, information that was particularly striking to Sarah.
“I totally know what she’s about,” Sarah said lazily, tossing her hair. “Rich, pretty, all round self proclaimed bitch…No wonder my brother has this huge crush on her,”
JJ blinked and pursed his lips. The mention of the Kook king was triggering enough, but more so that he was infringing onto Kook territory far more than he expected.
“Rafe’s into her?”
“Big time,” she shrugged. “She’s never paid him any time of day, though. ‘Could probably do better anyways…”
JJ clicked his tongue, and began to rapidly drum his fingers on the windowsill. He couldn’t help but smile as he gazed out onto the greenery, and his leg bounced in tune to the made up beat. 
“He’s gonna do something stupid, isn’t he?” Pope said quietly from across the room.
“What?!” he said, turning to the rest of the group, hands raised in defence. “You really think I’m gonna be stupid?”
“When are you not stupid?” Kie said flatly, to which Sarah nodded.
“Not much faith in you, buddy,” John B added.
“Wow, thanks guys,” the blonde said sarcastically, climbing to his feet and heading towards the door. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna smoke. Feel free to join me once you’re done with the dogpilling, ‘aight?”
He couldn’t wait for Saturday.
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To his surprise, you’d shown up that weekend with relatively no fanfare. You were sitting in the same spot, dressed in your signature swimwear, with a short floral sarong clinging to your waist. Large sunglasses shielded your eyes as you basked in the rays, something that JJ was all too happy to interrupt.
“If it isn’t Little Miss Fortune…Where’s your entourage? Have they finally come to their senses and ditched you?” he said, stepping in front of you to block the light, eyeing the empty sunbeds on either side of you. 
You didn’t flinch.
“Shut up JJ, I’m not in the fucking mood,” you snapped, before waving a hand dismissively. “Just get me my usual,”
The boy grinned.
“So you do know my name? Or was that a recent development…?”
Scoffing, you pulled your glasses down to your nose before smiling at him sweetly.
“Of course I know your name,” you purred. “How else would I be able to make a complaint to your boss?” you finished with a shrug.
“My boss?” He choked. “What the hell do you want to speak to him for?”
“Don’t play dumb, Maybank,” you continued, gracefully swinging your legs to the floor and swiftly standing up. As you did, your breasts bounced slightly, a sight that came second only to the sight of your hips moving as you began to walk back into the building.
JJ furrowed his brows, swiping a tongue over his lips subconsciously as he followed you.
“I’ve seen you checking me out,” you hummed, side eyeing the way the blonde stalked you through the corridors. “I’m pretty sure that’s sexual harassment,”
“Jesus - fuck - you’re such a bitch, you know that?” he sighed frustratedly, running his hands through his hair.  As you neared the opposite end of the hall; just around a corner by a supplies room, you stopped, turned and smirked as you faced him. 
There was no denying that he was sexy when he was angry; with his hair becoming tousled and pointed like mini devils horns, and the passion in his blue eyes growing deeper by the minute. You were more than aware that he was no prize, but sometimes the forbidden fruit was often the sweetest.
“I mean, how do you wear those skimpy little tennis skirts and swimsuits and not expect any guy to look?” he said, exasperated, but the rigidity of his body told you otherwise.
“So you don’t deny it?” you grinned. “Interesting…”
JJ let out a loud sigh.
“Look, not that it matters to you, but I can’t fucking lose this job. I’m already on thin ice,” he said, suddenly grabbing your arm as if he were about to throttle you. His firm grip and his equally stern voice sent a tingle down your spine and eventually pooled in your loins. It certainly wasn’t the aircon that was giving you goosebumps.
You scoffed and pulled your hand away, making JJ bite his lip.
“That’s not my problem!” you spat, beginning to walk away when JJ stopped you again, this time cornering you up against a door. You blinked as he wedged you between the surface and his toned arms, one leg brushing dangerously against your own to keep you in position as his pelvis was pointed towards your own. Trembling, a raspy voice emitted from his throat as he cautiously looked around.
You were alone. Just the two of you.
“…W-What is your problem?” he said through  gritted teeth, eyes furiously locked onto your own. “Did you break a nail? Daddy cut your allowance, huh? Haven’t been fucked in a while?”
Pausing, your brows raised slightly upwards as your lips parted at the statement. Any other guy who would’ve said that to you would have ended up with a swift kick in the balls.
The blonde chuckled, and you couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t genuine, but out of pity.
“…So that’s it, huh?” he laughed, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek, casting your gaze to the floor. It wasn’t lost on you how a sly smugness was smeared across the boy's face, his pink lips glistening as he ran his tongue over them.
“You know, I could probably help you out with that, but I know that a guy’s gotta have a thousand dollars to —“
You cut him off by planting a swift kiss on his lips, draping your arms around his neck as you gently grazed your manicured nails across his skin. He wasted no time in pulling you in by your lower back, and you rubbed your front against his hardened cock, more than aware of the lack of material between you two.
Before he could get too cocky, you pulled away.
“If you say one goddamn word about this, not only will you be fired, but I’ll ruin whatever you and your little Pogue friends have on this island, got it?” you said, voice hushed.
JJ smirked, and saluted.
“Yes ma’am…” he snickered, and you rolled your eyes, quickly taking his hand and dragging him into the supply closet, before intertwining yourselves together again.
“Daddy’s taking me home in ten,” you breathed between kisses. “We don’t have all day.”
“Lady, I don’t want to hear about your ‘Daddy’ right now,” JJ said, lithe fingers sliding down your body to squeeze your ass, absentmindedly pressing his cock against your thighs. He wanted you; all of you, but truthfully he knew that there was one way he wanted to take you.
Mean girls deserved punishment. Mean girls deserved to be fucked like the bitches they were.
JJ let out a soft groan as you felt your way into his swim shorts, bucking his hips into your hands as you jerked his cock in a haste to put him inside of you. Pressing your back against the wall, you arched your back as you waited for him to take you…but it didn’t come.
“JJ…” you whined. “Don’t waste my fucking time…”
“Woah, there. Pretty eager, are we?” he grinned. “What makes you think we’re doing it on your terms?”
You were about to answer when JJ placed a finger to your lips, running his finger down to your chin and caressing up your jawline, holding your face still in his hands.
“Bend over.” he said, borderline emotionless, and you slowly obliged, nodding as you spun and pressed your face against the cold wall. JJ exhaled from his nose, eyes locked on your body as he stalked you, slowly kissing along your neck as he left rough love bites, tracing down to your collarbone and causing you to let out a soft, yet impassioned moan.
“JJ…You can’t do that…”
“My bad, princess,” he scoffed, pulling his lips away from the crook of your neck. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your image and all…”
He pushed your stomach against the wall, and you arched your back slightly, allowing him access to slide his fingers into your swimsuit, rubbing the outside of your folds before pushing the tip of his dick in.
JJ considered himself to be a guy who liked the fast life, but he was going to take his time with you. 
Call him cocky, but he knew this wasn’t going to be your last time.
Though he had a fairly regular girth, his cock had a decent length, and you could feel a prominent vein pulse within you as he rocked his hips in and out of your desperate cunt. His hands tightened around your hips, groping at the soft flesh of your ass through gritted teeth as he revelled in the sound of your moans.
“Shit,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking wet…How long have you wanted me, hm?”
“This is nothing,” you insisted, squeezing your eyes shut as you focused on the painfully pleasurable sensation. “Don’t let it get to your head, Maybank.”
“Oh, so the way you’re gripping my cock is nothing, right? Jeez, you could’ve fooled me, princess,” he laughed, biting down on his bottom lip. “What would Daddy say if he saw his Kook princess getting railed like a whore by a dirty Pogue, huh? Shit, I bet Rafe would fuckin’ lose his mind…”
Your stomach formed knots at the statement, and you felt your legs tremble as you clenched around him. His cock was hitting each and every untouched crevice perfectly; every withdrawal and thrust of his hips making you want him more. JJ was rabid; fucking you like he couldn’t figure out whether he wanted to kill you or consume you. Judging by the way he pawed at your body, you were sure that you wouldn’t be able to walk back to the foyer (tomorrow morning was another story) without looking like you’d been in a catfight.
Mouth agape, you managed to turn your head just enough to face him - his face flushed and glassy eyed - and locked eyes before you spoke. Whether it was your biological high or something rather deeper, you were able to see the beauty in him. JJ was rugged, certainly rough around the edges, but he was beautiful.
“JJ…” you whispered. “I-I I need you to cum…”
“Already on it, m’lady,” he snickered, and angled his head to pull you into a sloppy, passionate kiss as his pace, though quick, became more shallow and disorganised - almost convulsing as he felt himself begin to come undone inside you.
JJ ran his hand through his hair, separating the clumped strands that clung to his forehead. His heavy pants soon became gentle breaths; but he didn’t let go of your body, instead beginning to trace small circles on your hips as he softened inside of you. Once the time was right, he pulled away, careful to tuck himself back into his shorts.
Although he couldn’t place it, he knew he felt different. 
PART TWO
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pedrospatch · 2 years ago
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a safe haven l one
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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series masterlist
summary: After the events in Salt Lake City, Joel and Ellie are back in Jackson, Wyoming to start a brand new life in the safe haven; Ellie has a difficult time fitting in and adjusting in the community, but she finds a friend in you; Joel meets you for the very first time and strange new feelings instantly take root.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. AGE GAP (no specific age is mentioned, but reader’s in her late 20s/early 30s and Joel is 56). reader is basically an OFC but story is written in reader format and her physical descriptions are kept as vague as possible. i have my own face claim for her, but i will only ever share it under cuts and with disclaimers. reader is married, Ellie plays a very important role in the series, hints at her strained relationship with Joel but this will indeed be a fix it fic because he deserves it, okay?
word count: 8.1k
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Jackson, Wyoming | June, 2024
Joel’s deep, dark brown eyes linger on you from across the town mess hall with sheer, almost unabashed curiosity. Then again, he doesn’t even realize that he’s staring.
It’s about half past twelve, the designated lunch break hour in Jackson, and the larger scale eatery, which for the last couple of years has been run by an older man named Seth and his two surviving adult sons, is alive and well, buzzing loudly with obnoxious, overlapping chatter.
The hall is almost over maximum capacity, packed to the brim with several members of the steadily growing community who had stopped in for a quick bite to eat before having to resume their daily work duties around the settlement. Or at least, a majority of them had, anyway. Others shamelessly try to milk their lunch hour for all that it’s worth and more, dragging it out and extending their allotted free time for as long as they possibly can before having to return to their scheduled tasks around the commune. They float about the place, socializing as if the mess hall had suddenly turned into The Tipsy Bison, the bar right across the road that’s also owned by Seth.
Somehow, by a stroke of sheer good luck, you’d managed to find yourself a smaller, unoccupied table nestled against the wall, away from all the hustle and bustle. It’s tucked away over in the furthest corner of Jackson’s busy and bustling makeshift canteen, near where the aluminum double doors that lead back to the kitchens are propped wide open for the mess hall staff who were coming in and out to replenish the dishes at the buffet. 
You’re sitting at the table alone, your plastic lunch tray surrounded by an absurd amount of open books that Joel had very little choice but to assume came from the town’s modest, but decent sized library that he’d seen nestled between the schoolhouse and the old church, right behind Main Street. In between delicate bites of oven baked chicken and roasted vegetables harvested fresh from the gardens, you reach up and take the blunt, worn yellow pencil that’s tucked in the space behind your ear, using it to scribble on the notepad in your lap before putting the pencil back in its designated place. Although you’re clearly working through your lunch break today, that doesn’t stop you from being interrupted on several different occasions by numerous individuals—friends and familiar faces all approach you with hopeful expressions, eager to join you and keep you company. 
Sure, the hall is full, but there’s still a number of available seats still left at other partially occupied tables nearby, bigger tables that aren’t crowded with books like yours, tables whose occupants aren’t busy working, studying—doing whatever it is that you’re doing. It becomes apparent to Joel that you’re something of a hot commodity around here. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s just something about you that reminds him of the sweet and popular small town girl his favorite country artists would sing about back in the day. The kind of girl with a magnetic presence and irresistible charm—the kind of girl that anyone can fall head over heels in love with in one way or another. 
There’s something almost too endearing about the gracious way you offer up just the most saccharine smile and apologetic doe eyes as you point to your books, politely declining every offer for companionship that comes your way, saying something he can imagine to be along the lines of, not today or maybe another time. Eventually, after a while, you’re finally left alone to bury yourself back into whatever it is that’s keeping you occupied that you can’t even have your midday meal in peace—you’re so engrossed in the task that you don’t even notice the older, salt and pepper haired newcomer who’s been blatantly staring at you from his table over on the opposite of the hall for the last several minutes. 
It’s not the first time Joel’s seen you around.
He still vividly remembers the moment when he’d first laid eyes on you several months ago during the winter season. 
It had been the morning after his fight with Ellie, after she’d confronted him and he had been forced to fess up about his plans to hand her off to his younger brother, Tommy—he’d asked him, pleaded with him, to get her to the Fireflies in Colorado. Joel’s mind had been in an all out raging war, his heart torn between doing what he’d felt was best for Ellie and what he truly wanted, which was to remain by her side and get her to where she needed to be himself. But how the fuck could he do that when all he’d managed to do in the few months prior to their arrival in Wyoming was fail to protect her over and over again? Sure, Ellie was a teenager, now closer to being an adult than anything else, but she was still a child, one who needed to be protected, kept safe. She needed somebody who could get to where she needed to be in one piece, and Joel had come to the conclusion that, as much as he wanted to be that person, he simply wasn’t capable. Slower, older, his hearing getting worse and worse as the days go by, he feared he’d only end up getting her killed if she continued on with him, a scenario he fucking refused to let happen at all costs. He wouldn’t hold another child’s dead body in his arms, not again.
Following a very long and sleepless night of tossing and turning, Joel had pulled himself out of bed just after sunrise that morning. After getting dressed, he’d quietly slipped out of the house and made his way down to the horse stables, hoping he could leave the commune as soon as possible and without notice from Tommy—and especially without notice from Ellie. It’s not that he had wanted to leave without saying goodbye to her, but Joel knew he wouldn’t have it in him to follow through with the decision he’d made about parting ways with her if he saw her face again, not a fucking chance. And so there he’d been, in one of the stalls at the stables, saddling up the horse he planned to steal and take off on when you’d walked by, flashing him a warm and friendly smile, probably assuming he was just another patrolman getting ready to head out for the morning shift. 
Joel had just stared at you, lips pressed together into a tight, thin line with an emotionless expression on his hard, stony face.
Of course, you were nothing more than a complete stranger who didn’t have the slightest clue as to what was going through his mind. You couldn’t have possibly imagined what was happening to the tortured older man you’d just encountered, the way his inner turmoil was a single thought away from tearing him apart from the inside out. You’d probably just thought he was rude for not smiling back, or at the very least, offering you a courteous good morning.
He’d almost forgotten about you since then.
Almost.
It’d been rather difficult for him to forget all about the prettiest goddamn fucking face he’d ever seen since the world ended two decades ago—not even after all of the events that followed that fateful morning.
The next time Joel had seen you was on his second day back in Wyoming. He and Ellie had made a trip down to the produce market on Main Street to pick up some vegetables and jarred preserves to stock up the kitchen pantry of their new, forever home. He’d caught sight of you as you made your way down one of the aisles towards the sweet potato bins with a brown, woven basket hanging from one arm and a reusable shopping bag draped over the other. Before Joel even realized that he’d been staring, your kind gaze met his own from across the market and you smiled at him again.
Still just as warm, still just as friendly. And you were still just as fucking beautiful as he remembered.
Much like that winter morning in the horse stables, Joel didn’t smile back at you. 
Two for fucking two—surely you must have thought he was a mannerless asshole at this point. He honestly wouldn’t blame you if you did. He’d think the same. 
Tommy, who had made it back from leading his morning patrol group just in time to join him for lunch, waves a hand in front of Joel’s face, looking thoroughly amused. “Maybe we should find you a goddamn camera,” he teases, letting out a small chuckle once he’d finally managed to break the older Miller’s trance, garnering his attention. “Y’know, so you can take a picture. It’ll last a hell of a lot longer.”
Joel scowls at his brother, though he says nothing.
He can’t very well deny that he’d been caught openly gawking. 
“Shut up, Tommy,” is all he can come up with before taking a large bite of seasoned carrots, heat flooding his face. The way Tommy’s looking at him, with that mischievous glimmer in his eyes, it reminds Joel of their younger years, when Tommy would make it his mission in life to do anything that would cause him discomfort just for his own kicks. 
“Hey, I don’t really blame you, y’know.” Tommy reaches over for his glass of sweet iced tea and picks it up, taking a long and refreshing sip. Smacking his lips together, he casually shrugs his shoulders, shooting Joel a knowing smirk over the top the glass as he comments, “She’s certainly a sight for sore eyes, ain’t she, big brother?”
“Watch it. Don’t think Maria would appreciate you sayin’ that kinda thing ’bout another woman who ain’t her,” Joel warns, cocking an eyebrow at him. His brother hadn’t always been the most faithful of partners in his first life, but Tommy truly seemed to be head over heels in love with his wife. Hearing him talk about another woman makes Joel wonder if perhaps remnants of his playboy ways still lingered behind even after twenty years. With Maria having just found out she was expecting his child, Joel certainly hopes that isn’t the case. “Eyes to yourself, asshole.”
Tommy shrugs again. “Ain’t no real harm in just takin’ a quick peek every once in a while,” he muses, although there’s a joking edge to his tone. Setting his glass of iced tea back down onto the table in front of him, he leans back into his chair and glances over at you. He lets out a long, low whistle, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh trust me, I get it, Joel—hell, every man around here gets it, fuckin’ single or not. She’s a real fuckin’ beauty, she is. But I should probably go ahead and warn you now that it’s best you don’t go gettin’ any ideas when it comes to that one.”
Before Joel can even stop himself, he finds himself asking, “Why’s that?
“Well for starters, that girl’s damn near half your fuckin’ age, you old fucker.”
Joel flips him off.
“Besides that, she’s already spoken for.” 
“She’s got a boyfriend.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“She’s got a husband,” Tommy corrects him. “She’s a married woman, Joel. And here’s the real fuckin’ kicker. She’s married to Jackson’s only doctor.”
Joel snorts, rolling his eyes. “A real doctor? Or just some fuckin’ clueless prick who claims to be a doctor?” he questions, shoving another forkful of his carrots into his mouth.
The younger man laughs at the bitter skepticism, knowing that it’d come from a place of envy more than anything. “Real, Joel. The guy’s around my age, give or take a couple years. He was finishin’ up his medical school residency when the outbreak first happened, at least that’s what Maria says,” he explains. He notices the confusion flash across Joel’s face and continues to elaborate. “Two of them go way back, went to the same college before she transferred out to another school for her law degree. Maria came across him and his group one day while out lookin’ for supplies. She said he still knew his stuff after all these years and decided to bring him in as the community’s physician. He looks after everyone around here. Delivers the babies, stitches up wounds. Hell, I broke my arm in a stupid ridin’ accident last summer and he set the bone right back into place, had me good as new within a few weeks. S’a miracle we’ve got someone like him around here.”
Joel glances down at his plate, twiddling his fork between his thumb and his index finger. He would have been a goddamn dirty liar if he’d said that finding out you were a married woman didn’t bother him. 
And to a fucking hero doctor nonetheless.
That only makes it sting a little harder.
Tommy immediately picks up on his brother’s disappointment in hearing the news about you being taken and softly kicks his shin with the toe of his boot underneath the table. “Y’know Joel, there’s plenty of other single women around here. Pretty ones, and real nice, too,” he informs him with a small smile. He pauses and then offers, “If you’re interested, I could introduce you around. Maria has this friend, her name is Esther and she’s a real cute blonde—”
“That’s the last thing on my fuckin’ mind,” Joel grumbles out in reply. He tightly shakes his head. “I just fuckin’ got here, Tommy. Besides, I’ve got Ellie that I need to take care of. We’re both tryin’ to get used to this place after bein’ out there on the road for so long. We’re still in the middle of gettin’ ourselves settled. The kid’s my priority right now—my only fuckin’ priority. Not meetin’ someone.”
Not wanting to push him too far, Tommy goes along with the subject change. “Speakin’ of Ellie, how’s she been doin’ by the way? Haven’t really seen much of her since you two got back.”
Joel hesitates, momentarily unable to meet Tommy’s eyes.
It’d been a couple of weeks now since the events that took place back in Salt Lake City. 
Since the hospital.
Since the Fireflies.
Joel had certainly thought once or twice about confiding in Tommy about what he had done. How he had ruthlessly and without a single ounce of mercy killed all of those people in the hospital, how he had shot Marlene dead at point blank range—how he had violently and single handedly stopped what had most likely been humanity’s only chance at potentially finding a cure for the cordyceps infection by preventing the Fireflies from operating on Ellie and performing a brain surgery that would have killed her. 
Joel doesn’t regret it, nor does he regret the choice he’d made on Ellie’s behalf.
He would do it all over again in a fucking heartbeat if it came down to it.
He doesn’t carry guilt over having done what he’d done, but he does carry the guilt of having lied to her about it after it was all said and done. He felt awful for looking her in the eye and swearing to her that everything he’d said about the Fireflies was true when it wasn’t. Ellie claimed to believe him, but he knew better than that. She was smart, too fucking smart for her own good. She might not have known the extent of it all, but she knew for certain that Joel wasn’t being entirely forthright about what had gone down in Salt Lake City while she’d been unconscious.
From that moment on the mountain, things had been quite tense between them. That conversation instantly caused a rift in their relationship, but Joel could tell she was doing her very best to force herself to fully believe that he was still a person she could trust, a person she could put her faith in. He took an odd sense of comfort in knowing that her forced efforts to keep believing in him had to have meant something good. 
She didn’t want to give up on him or on their relationship.
Joel exhales a heavy sigh, finally answering the question. “Not too great,” he admits, quietly. “I’m real worried ‘bout her, Tommy. It’s been a couple weeks now since we’ve been back and she still hasn’t made one single goddamn friend around here. She doesn’t fuckin’ talk to anyone, barely even talks to Maria.” He sighs again, tiredly rubbing the side of his face with his free hand. “She spends most of her time hidin’ out in the stables with the horses. She would rather be around them than other people. She can’t live the rest of her life like that. I try to tell her she needs to put in more effort on her part, but she won’t fuckin’ listen to me.”
“Just give her some more time, Joel. After everythin’ that poor kid’s been through in her life, it ain’t a big surprise that she’s strugglin’ a bit to fit in around here, y’know?” Tommy notices the way his older brother’s jaw clenches and he offers him a look of sympathy. “Look, I know Ellie means a whole lot to you and if I were you, I would be real worried ’bout her too. But just give her a little more time to adjust. She’ll get there, I know she fuckin’ will. She’s a real strong kid, big brother.”
“Yeah, I know she is,” Joel murmurs in agreement. “Hell of a lot stronger than someone her age should have to be.”
“She’ll be just fine,” Tommy reassures him. “She’ll find her place here, Joel. Just wait. You’ll see.”
“I sure as hell fuckin’ hope you’re right.”
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You relish the feeling of warm sunlight hitting your face.
Summer’s just beginning in Wyoming, and after a particularly long, cold and cruel winter that swept the western state this last year, you couldn’t have been more thrilled to see that warmer weather is well on its way.
At least, for now you’re thrilled.
Winters in Jackson were god awful, but summers could be just as brutal, if not worse.
Clutching the strap of your old, but sturdy brown leather satchel bag securely over your shoulder, you hurriedly make your way across the settlement from the mess hall and back towards the horse stables, the place you commonly referred to as your second home—it wasn’t all that much of a joke, seeing as you often spent more time there than you didn’t. It’s now after lunch hour, and there’s still plenty of work to be done before the end of the day rolls around, most of it which would undoubtedly trickle into the next day.
Being the only veterinarian in the community, there was always more than plenty of work to be done every day. Too much work to be done by one single person alone. Often, you find yourself feeling quite overwhelmed by it all. You feel like you’re completely in over your head, and it leaves you wondering if you’d made the right decision by taking such an enormous responsibility into your hands.
Then again, it’s not like you’d been given much of a choice. In a way, it had been expected of you.
Prior to passing away from illness two summers ago, your father had been the veterinarian who looked after the animals. Even though you hadn’t been trained professionally like he had, your father decided to spend the final years of his life teaching you to the best of his ability and with what little resources he had available. After all, Jackson was going to need someone to step up and take care of the animals when he was gone—particularly the hoses. Even as his physical health worsened, he used every last ounce of strength he had left in him to prepare you to take over for him when he died. Thanks to him and all he’d done for you, you certainly knew a thing or two, but the job was still daunting, even after all this time of being in practice on your own without him there to guide you like before.
Keeping the horses healthy to begin with made your job a hell of a lot easier, but when a horse became sick or injured, that was when your knowledge and your skills were truly put to the test. Horses were how everyone traveled when in search of needed supplies, how patrolmen and women moved around while they were out and about on watch keeping the community safe against the infected and against raiders. Horses were one of the most important, most precious resources the commune possessed. They kept everything going, everyone moving, and you’d be fucking lying if you said that being the sole person in charge of caring for them didn’t put a tremendous amount of pressure on your shoulders.
Sensing your doubt, Maria Miller often assured you that you were the best person for the role—the only person for the role. “The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree,” she had complimented you over coffee at her place the morning after you had successfully removed a bullet lodged into the shoulder of one of the horses that had been injured while Tommy and his group were out on overnight patrol. They’d stumbled across violent and armed raiders, and luckily everyone had made it out unscathed with the exception of Tommy’s beloved black horse, Ranger. You recalled being pulled out of your bed in the middle of the night to tend to him, the first serious case you had to take care of without your father’s guidance. Thankfully, the stallion’s injury hadn’t been life threatening, and you were able to patch him up within the hour. After just a few weeks of working with Ranger and putting him through physical therapy, the horse made a full recovery and both Maria and Tommy couldn’t have been more thrilled with your work.
Still, you still continued questioning your own abilities, but it didn’t really matter in the end. Both Maria and Tommy decided to assign you as Jackson’s equine veterinarian, pulling you from your previous job, which had been helping Seth make sandwiches at The Tipsy Bison.
You rush into the stables, making a mental list with the names of all the horses that you still need to check over for the day, including the group of horses that had just arrived back from that morning’s patrol. You make your way down to the very last stall which is serving as home to a stunning, chestnut-brown pregnant mare.
“Hi there, Stella,” you coo sweetly, beaming at the beauty. “Hi, my gorgeous girl. How are you doing today, sweetie pie?”
“I would be doing a hell of a lot better if I could have one of those apples in your bag,” a voice answers, startling you slightly.
Peering around Stella’s body, you catch sight of Ellie laying down on a small bed of hay in the furthest corner of the stall. She’d made something of a pillow out of her backpack, kicking back as she flips through her favorite superhero comic book for what had to be the hundredth time. She offers you a silly, lopsided grin the minute she takes a glimpse at the baffled look on your face. “Howdy.”
“Ellie,” you sigh her name softly. “What in the world are you doing in here?”
“Living my best life,” she deadpans. “What else does it look like I’m doing?”
You try but mostly fail, in hiding your laughter at her quick witted sense of humor. “Ellie,” you say her name again. “You can’t just hide out in here with the horses every single day, you know,” you point out, dropping your heavy satchel bag onto the ground. Stella lowers her head and gives it a sniff, no doubt smelling those apples you always carried around with you.
“Wanna bet?” The teenager quips with a small joking smirk as she sits up, tossing her comic book to the side. Bits of hay stick out of her brown hair, which she always keeps tied back in a messy ponytail.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school with the other kids?”
She rolls her eyes. “I already went to school. Back in the Boston QZ. FEDRA’s finest, dude.”
You don’t know all that much about Ellie Williams—nor about the brooding older man that she’s here with, Joel Miller. The only thing you do know is that Joel happened to be Tommy Miller’s older brother and he acted as Ellie’s guardian. Initially, you’d thought he was her father, but Maria had told you that he had no familial relation to the girl, a fact that took you by complete surprise.
Their arrival in Jackson back during the winter season had the entire town talking—but by the following morning, the pair were gone, not to be seen again for several months until their return towards the end of spring just a couple of weeks ago. Rumors flew once the word of their return had gone around, but in reality, no one had the slightest clue about where they had gone or why they had left the safety of the commune’s walls in the first place. Not even Maria, who had failed in getting her husband to talk. She swore up and down Tommy knew something she didn’t, but he refused to spill his brother’s secrets, even to his own wife.
Like everyone else in the tight knit community, you were curious about Ellie, and you were especially curious about Joel. You’d seen him around a couple of times before, but hadn’t had the chance to meet him yet. Still, even without having spoken a single word to him, you already knew he wasn’t anything like Tommy, or anyone else you’ve ever encountered, really. A man of very few words, he kept to himself, just like Ellie did. Still, Joel knew he needed to find his place and pull his weight in Jackson just like everyone else, and once he began working patrol alongside Tommy, he finally began engaging with other members of the town. 
Reluctantly so, but at the very least, he was trying.
Ellie, on the other hand, avoided everybody at all costs. Everybody, that is, except for you.
Since their arrival, Ellie chose to spend her days in the stables. She’d hang out with the horses while reading her comic books or listening to tapes on some old Walkman she had permanently borrowed from Tommy. Despite a hectic schedule that kept you busy, you eventually started taking the time out of your day to talk to her. It had started off with light chatter about the most trivial of things—how the day was going, whether or not the weather was nice outside, what had been served for lunch in the mess hall that afternoon. Ellie seemed almost annoyed with you at first, but after a couple of days, she’d quickly started warming up to you and by the end of the first week, she had started following you around the stables, joining you wherever you needed to be. The girl had taken a liking to you, but she was still quite guarded and careful, as if she were still testing the waters, figuring out whether or not you could be trusted.
You don’t mind that, though.
Little by little, simply by being kind to her and making the genuine effort to get to know her, you’re slowly beginning to chip away at her layers. There was still quite a long way to go if you ever wanted the teenager to completely open up to you, but you didn’t mind that either.
You’d be as patient with her as you needed to be.
You walk over to her. “Listen Ellie, as much as I really enjoy having you around me all the time, you really do need to make friends, you know.”
She blinks. “But you’re my friend.”
Even as you rephrase yourself, you can’t help but smile. “Friends your own age,” you remark, tucking the loose lock of your hair that had fallen loose from your dutch braid behind your ear. “You know, my husband, he has a niece named Dina. She’s about your age. I could introduce you to each other if you'd like?”
Ellie furiously shakes her head. “No.”
“Ellie—”
“Everyone around here looks at me like I’ve got two fucking heads or something. She probably fucking will too,” she mumbles. She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “I’d have an easier time fitting in around here if I was a fucking clicker.”
Chuckling, you gently shake your head at her.
By now, you’d pretty much gotten used to her rich and colorful vocabulary.
You crouch down in front of her. “Look Ellie, I know how hard it is not to fit in with others.”
“You?” Ellie blows a loud raspberry in complete disbelief. “No fucking way. I don’t believe that for one fucking second, sweet cheeks.”
“Hey, in case you didn’t know this, I haven’t always been this age,” you remind her, lightly swatting at the side of her knee with your hand. “I was fifteen once too.”
“Yeah, and you were probably little miss fucking perfect, just like you are now.” She rolls her brown eyes at you in a teasing manner. “I bet everyone just loved you.”
You swat at her knee again. “Oh, stop that. That couldn’t be any further from the truth,” you reply, wondering where this child had come up with the idea that you are, or had ever been perfect. “I was still living in one of the quarantine zones with my family when I was your age, Ellie. We were living in the Alburquerque QZ for quite a while before it got overrun by the infected. They had schools and everything, just like in Boston. My mother was a nurse, so she had the privilege of enrolling me in one of their better schools, a preparatory school—she had the hope that I’d become an officer so I could have a chance at a decent life.” You pause, noticing a strange glimmer flash in the girl’s eyes, but when she says nothing, you continue on, “So I got the absolute pleasure of going to school with a bunch of kids whose parents were officers and important higher ups in the zone. And let me tell you something, the world may have gone to complete shit, but teenagers can still be fucking assholes.”
Ellie throws her head back and laughs loudly. “Whoa! I never thought I’d hear you curse. I thought you were too fucking prim and proper for that.”
“I’m not all that prim and proper,” you counter, grinning at the way she continues to cackle. “Besides, spending all this time with you might just have me cursing like a fucking sailor by the end of the week.”
“Fuck yeah it will,” she agrees with a nod. 
You grin again, but when your eyes meet Ellie’s, it falters slightly.
Ellie hadn’t told you much of anything about her past, but one thing was for certain—the young girl had been through hell and back. You could see it written all over her face, even when she smiled and even when she laughed. The traces of terror, pain, and trauma were quite subtle, but they were very much present and in recent nights, you’d find yourself lying in bed, wide awake and wondering what all this poor child had gone through in her life. Thoughts about what Ellie had seen, what and who she had lost in this world haunted you.
She’s different. 
What she’d been through made her different.
It set her apart from the other children, especially those who don’t know what it’s like to live a life outside these four walls.
It pained you to know that she felt ostracized when you were willing to bet your life that whatever had happened to her, it hadn’t been her fault.
Ellie Williams wasn’t your responsibility—you hardly know her. But you already care about her. An inexplicable soft spot for her had found its way into your heart from your very first interaction with her. If there’s anything you can do to help her ease into this new way of life, you’ll gladly do so without hesitation.  
“So then,” Ellie finally says after a minute, looking up at you. “Is it, uh, is it alright if I keep coming to the stables to spend time with you and the horses?”
“Of course.” You rise to your feet and glance at Stella. “But only on one condition. You have to help me out with the grooming. I’ve been really short handed lately and could use the extra help. Deal?”
She jumps up to her feet, eagerly nodding her head. “Deal.”
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Joel dumps his plastic tray and used dishware into the designated dirty dish bin before shoving his way through the doors of the mess hall. The air outside is still relatively cool, it’s crisp and fresh—but the temperatures are sure to get a hell of a lot warmer now that summer has officially arrived. Not that he minded.
He keeps his sights set straight ahead of him, doing his best to avoid eye contact with anyone who so much as even throws a glimpse in his direction.
People seem to be getting to him, but oftentimes, he still feels like a pariah. It’s almost like he’s some fucking feral stray cat that Jackson had adopted and taken into it’s home, willing to tame him, but still afraid that he could start tearing shit up at any given moment if they didn’t keep a close enough eye on him. He could handle that, though. It’s his Ellie he’s worried about. Between the survivor’s guilt she’d been dealing with on a daily basis and the way she was looked at in the community by everyone, Joel feared for her well being. He could only hope that Tommy was right about her just needing time and that eventually, she’ll find her place and he’ll have the chance to give her the most normal life possible under the circumstances. 
It’s the very least Joel could do for her after all she’d been through in the last year—after what he’d done, how he had lied straight to her face. He fucking owed her that much.
Ellie deserved happiness, and he would do just about anything in his power to give it to her.
Joel arrives at the horse stables and makes his way inside. “Ellie?” He calls out her name. “Ellie? You in here?”
That’s when he hears her voice. 
“Wait, what? Stella’s pregnant? I didn’t fucking know that!”
Rounding the corner into the very last stall, Joel sees Ellie standing there, her tiny little hand on the muzzle of a brown horse. In her opposite hand, she’s holding a mane brush. She isn’t alone.
He’s surprised to see you standing there beside her, your hands planted on your hips. You’re wearing a pair of well worn light wash blue jeans, the legs tucked into a pair of weathered black riding boots whose soles are completely caked with muck. Joel remembers you wearing an oversized, long sleeved red flannel shirt back in the mess hall, but it’s now off and tied around your waist, leaving you in a thin, cotton white tank top—the material fits snug on your frame, and Joel tries his hardest not to stare at the patch of bare skin that peeks between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your jeans.
Christ.
You’re even more beautiful up close.
Fuckin’ get a grip, Miller, he thinks silently to himself.
“She sure is,” you reply to her question with a wide grin. “We just found out about a week ago and believe she’s about a few weeks along. We’ll have a sweet new baby in a year.”
“What? No fucking way!” Ellie exclaims, looking thoroughly excited, but bewildered by the fact. “Horses are pregnant for a whole year? Holy shit man, that’s fucking nuts!”
“Well, for eleven months,” you clarify for her, giving Stella a gentle, but firm pat on her muscular neck. “This is Stella’s first one. We’re hoping for a smooth pregnancy that reaches full term, but sometimes babies decide to come a bit sooner than expected.”
Curiously, Joel’s lips part and his eyes widen slightly.
He can’t fucking believe it.
Ellie hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone in two weeks and yet here she is, engaging with you so easily and so effortlessly, cracking the first genuine smile he’d seen since they had fed that giraffe back in Salt Lake City. More than that, Ellie is being herself, cursing up a storm and all, and you don’t seem the slightest bit bothered by it, not like the other adults whose jaws would drop in utter horror at her use of such foul language.
Joel wills himself to move and steps inside of the stall. He lightly clears his throat. “Ellie.”
You and Ellie both turn around, glancing in his direction.
“Joel? What are you doing here?” she asks, her smile fading slightly.
“Lookin’ for you. It’s lunchtime. Y’need to go eat somethin’ kiddo.”
She holds up the brush in her hand. “But we were just about to—”
He stops her with a stern glare. “Lunch. Now. Go.”
“Fine,” Ellie huffs and rolls her eyes at him. Picking up her red and tan backpack from the ground, she hands you the mane brush and stomps out of the stall, roughly shoving into Joel’s shoulder as she pushes past him without another word.
Joel glances at you, a sudden wave of awkwardness washing over him. Just as he’s about to politely excuse himself and leave, you speak.
“You’re Tommy’s older brother, right? Joel?”
He nods. “Yeah. I am.”
Stepping away from Stella, you walk over to Joel and introduce yourself, extending a hand for him to shake.
Your name is as beautiful as you are and it sounds heavenly when he repeats it, rolling smoothly off his tongue. He takes your hand in his own and the contrast between the two is stark. Your hand is soft against his rough, small compared to his large, but somehow still an all too perfect fit.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Joel.” Your eyes find his, meeting them in a way that makes something inside of him that had been sleeping for decades now stir itself awake—it’s a feeling that’s too foreign for him to pinpoint. 
Realizing he’s been holding onto your hand longer than necessary, he drops it and takes a step back, lightly bumping his back against the stall door. “I’m—uh, I’m real sorry ‘bout Ellie,” Joel apologizes to you after a minute. “I know she’s been spendin’ a lot of time in here. I hope she hasn’t been botherin’ you or gettin’ in the way of things. If she is, I’ll have a talk with her.”
“No, no. Of course not. She hasn’t been bothering me at all,” you quickly assure him without missing a beat. “I’m usually in here alone, so it’s actually been really nice having her around. I enjoy her company a lot.”
“You do?”
You toss him a puzzled, but amused look. “Is that so strange?”
Joel places his hands on his hips and leans back against the stall door. “Ellie’s been havin’ a little trouble,” he confesses. “Adjustin’ to life here and meetin’ people. She, uh—she ain’t like all the other kids around here, y’know?”
“I know.”
His eyebrows raise to his hairline—exactly how well had you and Ellie gotten to know each other already? What all had she told you? What did you know about her?
What did you know about him?
Joel tries to mask the concern on his face.
“I was just talking to her a little while ago. I told her I know how hard it is being a teenager and trying to fit it in with the crowd, even in a world like this one.” You let out a humorless laugh and shake your head, the ridiculousness of what you’d just said sounding sillier out loud than it had in your mind. “It’s even harder when you’re just so different.” You detect the way that your statement triggers something of a negative response from Joel—the way his eyes darken in a flash of anger and his nostrils flare slightly tell you he doesn’t take all too kindly to anyone talking negatively about his kid. Ellie being different is something that he already knows, of course, but hearing it from someone else isn’t easy for him, and it certainly isn’t welcome. It puts him right into protective mode and you don’t blame him, not in the slightest. You hold your hands up and reassure him, “There’s nothing wrong with being different, by the way.”
Joel sees the sincerity in your eyes that go hand in hand with your words and his defenses switch off almost as quickly as they’d switched on. “There isn’t,” he agrees with a careful nod of his head. “Nothin’ wrong with it at all.” He clears his throat. “M’sorry, I didn’t mean to—it’s just that I don’t really like it when people start runnin’ their mouths ‘bout my kid, that’s all.”
Waving a hand, you assure him, “No need to apologize at all, Joel.”
Little by little, he starts relaxing. Taut and tense muscles that have been wound up for years and years are suddenly beginning to loosen. All it’s taking is being in your presence and talking to you. Joel suddenly understands why Ellie’s taken such a quick liking to you. 
You’re unlike anyone that either of them had ever met before. You’re bright and you bring about this warmth—a different kind of warmth Joel hadn’t felt in so fucking long. It feels like seeing the sun for the very first time after spending years and years trapped in a cold, cold darkness.
He glances around the stall. “So, uh—what’s the deal? You one of the stable hands around here or somethin’ like that?”
“Something like that,” you repeat after him, a tiny grin tugging at the corners of your mouth at the way he speaks with a heavy, but still incredibly charming Southern drawl. “I’m the veterinarian here in Jackson.”
He chuckles. “Y’mean, those still exist?”
“Sort of. My father used to be the veterinarian here,” you explain to him. “That was what he did for a living before the outbreak happened. We lived in New Mexico on a horse ranch when I was growing up—he started off as a stable hand and then he went back to school to become an equine veterinarian. When we got here a few years ago from one of the quarantine zones, he told Maria what he had done for a living before this and he was asked to care for the horses in exchange for our place here.”
“And you?” Joel can’t help but wonder out loud. You seem quite young, can’t be older than your late twenties or early thirties at most, which would still have made you a child when the outbreak happened. “No offense darlin’ but you seem a little bit too young to have gone to vet school before shit hit the fan.”
Darlin’.
He doesn’t mean to call you that. But it’s too late—and you don’t appear bothered by it.
Instead, you laugh, and the sound is like a gorgeous melody he could listen to on repeat for the rest of his life if given the chance. “No, I definitely did not go to veterinary school. Actually, my dad taught me everything I know.” You speak fondly of him as you continue to say, “He educated me. Well, as best as he could considering the circumstances and all. He gave me a ton of books that I could read and study from, but most of it was hands-on training. He tried to teach me all that he could before he died a couple of years ago.”
Joel frowns. “Oh. Sorry to hear ‘bout your dad.”
“It’s alright. You don’t have to be sorry.”
He peers at you, wondering what had happened to him. 
“He died of illness,” you tell him, as if having read his mind. “Cancer, we think it was, but we obviously can’t know for sure without proper testing. And before you say it again, you don’t have to be sorry.” You cross your arms over your chest, tilting your head at him as you change the subject and ask, “So, how are you settling in?”
“S’been alright, I reckon. Real different from what I’m used to—from what we’re both used to,” Joel answers, referring to Ellie.
“I can imagine it is. It took me a while to get used to this place when I first got here too. It’s such a different way of life, especially when you lived under FEDRA control for so long,” you empathize with him, sighing as you drop your arms back down at your sides. “You stay just a couple of houses down from Tommy and Maria, right?”
“Yeah, we’re two doors down in the brown and greenish lookin’ unit.”
“I’m in the light blue and white cottage right across from them,” you inform him, your pretty eyes twinkling as you give him a smile. “I guess that kind of makes us neighbors, doesn’t it?”
Joel’s stomach somersaults.
If you didn’t stop smiling at him like that, there was going to be a problem.
“It does,” he manages to say. Remembering Tommy’s warning from earlier, he decides it would be best for him to leave—and the quicker, the better because he’s beginning to notice how fucking easy it is to fall under your spell. He pushes himself away from the stall door. “I should probably get goin’ now. Got evenin’ patrol,” he says. “Listen, uh, I really appreciate you spendin’ time with Ellie and bein’ so kind to her. Thank you for that.” He gives you a small grateful nod and turns on the heel of his boot to leave the stall.
“Joel?”
He stops dead in his tracks, his back stiffening slightly.
The sound of your soft voice saying his name is sweet like pure, raw honey.
If he isn’t careful, he’ll become addicted to it—he fears he already is.
Swallowing harshly, Joel turns back around to face you. “Yeah?”
“We’re having this big get together tomorrow night in the barn that’s right across the way,” you say, jabbing a thumb over your shoulder. Through the small round window in the stall, he can see the very barn you’re talking about. “We do it every single year on the first day of summer. We do it for the kids more than anything, but everyone comes out.” There’s a subtle hint of shyness to your tone. “I’m not sure if Tommy or Maria have mentioned it to you yet, but there’s going to be a big barbecue, drinks, and even dancing. The whole nine yards.”
Joel has to bite back a small scoff of disbelief. “You serious?”
“Hey, the world might have ended, but people still know how to get down and party,” you joke. You observe the genuinely perplexed look that crosses his face and giggle. “I know it must sound really bizarre. But it’s a lot of fun and it’s a great way to really get to know the folks around here. I think it would be great if you and Ellie both came.”
“Ain’t too sure if it’d be Ellie’s thing. Or mine,” he admits, raking a hand nervously through his hair at the thought.
“You won’t know unless you give it a shot, Joel.” You gift him with another brilliant smile that just about makes his heart stop inside his chest. “Please?”
Joel hardly knows you.
Hell, up until five minutes ago, he hadn’t even known your fucking name—how is it possible that he can’t say no to you? A complete fucking stranger?
He thinks about it. He doesn’t like the idea of having to interact with anyone outside of his patrol duties, but if going to the damn thing means seeing you again, then he’s willing to at the very least give it a shot. 
“Maybe we’ll both stop by for a bit and check it out,” he finally replies, exhaling a sigh of defeat.
“Great!” You beam happily. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then!”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Joel repeats, giving you one last nod before turning and leaving the stall.
As he leaves the stables and heads home, he can’t help the way the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards at the mere thought of seeing you tomorrow night. 
Shit.
Yeah, he’s in fucking trouble. 
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ziggyzolch · 8 months ago
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Queen Bee-atch II (Regina George x Reader)
Warnings: Mentions of weight, implied eating disorder, Insecurity. No numbers mentioned.
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"Class isn't over yet, I haven't dismissed you!" The teacher's demands fall on deaf ears as the students pack up before the lunch bell rings, eager to see their friends. Your first three classes were relatively uneventful, the only entertaining thing being this ginger girl you've never seen before attempting to leave class without permission. Your eyes scan the hallways after you exit the classroom. Janis and Damien are the only people you can tolerate at this school, so they're the only people you ever seek out. There they are.
You make your way through the crowded hallway and purposefully shoulder-bump your target.
"What is wrong with you- oh you asshole!" Janis curses lightheartedly. She pulls you into a hug and kisses your forehead while you stand awkwardly with your hands at your sides. Instead of waiting for his turn, Damien joins in and wraps his arms around you and Janis. "I missed you guys so much!" You manage to get out while still in the bone crushing hug. "Where were you this whole summer? You went completely, like, radio silent." Damien asks with a suspicious look in his eyes. "Sorry, I got grounded for the whole summer. My mom found my cigarette stash." You confessed. "Idiot. Anyways, did you see that new girl?" Janis switches topics and Damien chimes in, "Yeah she's, like, a total disaster. We need to save her." Their words are background noise to you. You're staring through Janis, zoned out. Damien and Janis give each other a look.
Flick
"Hey what the hell!" You whine as you rub your forehead. "You weren't with us man, your eyes were drifting apart from each other and everything. Pretty sure I saw a bit of drool dribble out-" you lightly punch Janis before she can continue. "Yeah I was! You were saying something about that new girl. I think her name was 'Caddy' or something.", you defend. "She's a disaster, we should probably help her." Damien stares at you. "Babe, I just said that." Janis stares between you guys before interrupting. "Anyways...let's go look for her!"
Janis and Damien were your best, and only, friends. You wouldn't know what to do without them. As such, you basically stuck to them whenever you could in school. Following them to the cafeteria, you take your seats at your designated table. You spot female Ed Sheeran standing awkwardly in the middle of the cafeteria. She looks so stupid.
"Hey guys should we call her over?" You ask your friends. They stop their conversation and look at where you're pointing. Janis nods and yells out, "Hey ginger! What did you say her name was? Was it Caddy? Caddy!" The girl turns and points at herself, mouthing out a 'me?'. She comes over after we confirm and we all introduce ourselves. "...and that's Damien, he's almost too gay to function." Janis concludes. "So Cady, what do you think of the school so far?" You question. "Oh, I don't really know, I used to be homeschooled so I don't have much to compare it to." Cady replies.
You, Janis, and Damien all look at each other and back at her.
She raises an eyebrow.
You all begin going on about what to know about the high school: The best hiding places, teachers to avoid pissing off and such, and the various cliques in this school. "...and those are the sexually active band geeks. Don't walk too close, lest you get dragged into their never-ending orgy." You finish. Cady glances behind her and asks "What about them? They're kind of pretty." You all turn to see who she's looking at. "Oh honey, no no no, those are the plastics..." Damien goes on his little cautionary rant about how evil they are. You looked towards Cady and smiled while rolling your eyes.
While you're both giggling, your eyes lock onto Regina's...who is currently approaching your table. Perfect. "Hey, Gerard," Damien gives you a confused look at the name, "Who's this girl with you? Why don't I know you?"
You zone out looking at her when she turns away from you, gushing over Cady. You wish her attention was on you. Wait what- You're taken out of your reverie as Cady gets up and follows behind Regina towards her group. "Finally back to the present? What is up with you dude you've been out of it this whole day!" You shrug your shoulders at Janis and turn your gaze back to Regina. What's so great about 'Caddy' that caught the attention of Regina? You could look just as helpless if you wanted to, but you won't! Not on purpose anyways.
You get up.
"I'm going to the bathroom"
Janis replies while looking towards the plastics, "We'd come with, but we kind of want to see where this goes."
✮✮✮
The sounds of her friends taking Cady through the requirements to be a Plastic fade as she makes her way to the bathroom. She had forgotten her pocket mirror and had to re-apply her lip gloss, duh. A stench that can only be accomplished by a high school bathroom gets stronger as she opens the door. She stops in her tracks when she sees you reapplying your mascara at the sink.
"Hey Brendon Urie."
You hadn't even noticed someone walking in.
"God, that's actually worse than Gerard." You look at her through the mirror.
She moves a bit closer, "You look so familiar."
"Must've seen me in your dreams," You say while awkwardly winking at her.
She raises an eyebrow, "No, I know you. I swear I do!"
"Well yeah, I'm the one and only Gerard Way! Lead singer of My Chemical Romance-"
"Enough," She rolls her eyes.
You finish up and make your way out of the bathroom, cautiously walking around her with your arms up. "You'll figure it out. Don't worry, Blondie."
She watches you exit the bathroom.
✮✮✮
"Oh my god! Regina, remember this?" Regina glared at her mom as she continued trying to seem cool to her friends. She's known them for years! Why does she keep doing this? Cady looks at the book in Mrs. George's hands.
"What is that?"
"No way! We used this book to make fun of the freaks in our school. We'd tape photos of people then write down insults-"
"She understands, Gretchen. Can you get us some snacks, Mom?"
As Regina's mom walks out of the room, the girls are looking through the various insults in the book. They eventually land on a page with a picture of you and Janis.
'Janis, Pyro Lez' 'Y/N, puts in 110% effort because she takes up 110% of the room.'
Cady's eyes widen. "That's not even her." She says while looking at the picture of you.
"I think she moved schools, wait how do you know her?" Gretchen stops what she's doing to ask.
"I sit with her at lunch"
"What? There's no way, that Gerard Way girl?" Regina chimes in and moves from her spot at the mirror to look at the picture.
"Woah, did she just melt off half her body weight since freshman year?"
"I'm so jealous." Karen adds.
Regina stares at the picture of you. So that's why she knew you.
✮✮✮
You, Damien, Janice and Cady are all gathered around at your locker. "...and it's just a collection of insults, basically." Cady had been giving a summary of the events from the previous day.
Janice's eyes go wide. "Does it say anything about me?"
"Uhm, nope. Nothing about you."
"Ugh, those bitches."
You didn't want to ask if you were in it. You had an idea of what the insults towards you could be, and you'd rather not have your suspicions confirmed.
The bell rings, interrupting the powwow. You all bid each other goodbye, and make your way to your classes. PE was your next period, and you couldn't wait. It was a break from all the thinking you had to do.
You head towards the gym after switching into your exercise clothes. Most of your clothes were oversized and baggy, including your gym ones. You hadn't really upgraded your wardrobe since you lost weight. Everybody was already in, gathered in a circle, so you pushed yourself in, not paying attention to who you were standing next to.
"Alright! Today, we'll be playing soccer! Or football, as some of you may call it." The PE teacher announces, mumbling the last part of his sentence. "We will work in pairs today, so find a pair. Or partner, I mean. Whatever, just get moving."
"I can't believe they assigned that guy to teach us Sex-ed." Was someone talking to you?
You look behind you to find Regina looking down at you with a...genuine smile on her face? That can't be right.
"Right! He gives off the same vibe as those Reddit incels."
"That's so funny."
Are you having a normal conversation? With the queen bitch?
"What did you call me?"
Oh shit, you said that out loud.
"Uh-"
"Whatever, you wanna pair up? None of my friends are in this class, and you're the least annoying one here."
Thanks. You look around to make sure there are no other possible options. Regina rolls her eyes and grabs your arm, pulling you to an empty spot.
She was actually decent at football. You guys were practicing passing to each other while running and you were starting to feel lightheaded.
You waved to Regina, "Hey, I'm just going to get a sip of water."
"I'll come with."
"You should play football more often, you're more tolerable like this."
"Bold, are we?"
"I mean, I basically just called you a bitch and you haven't punched me in the face. So I'm right"
She laughed! What is up with her?
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Regina enters the locker room and spots you with your shirt halfway up. You really did lose half your body weight. Guilt pierces through her. Freshman year Regina was cruel. Somehow crueler than she is now, and fat girls were just easy to bully. Did you drop weight because of her?
Your shirt had gotten snagged on both your necklace and bracelet. After watching you twist and wriggle around for a while, Regina deems you sufficiently embarrassed and walks towards you to help you out.
You feel someone pull your shirt up and off of you. You had made sure to go into the locker room after everyone had already left. So when you were finally free of your cloth prison and came face to face with Regina. You felt nauseous. Of everyone!
She looks you up and down and suddenly you're more self conscious than you've ever been. Wrapping your arms around your stomach, you mumble out a 'Thanks' and put on your other shirt then hurriedly pack up and rush out of the locker room, leaving a guilt-ridden Regina behind.
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ganondoodle · 1 year ago
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so, inspired by the warm welcome the captain received with that rough doodle i posted, i made an updated design for Ki'ita as well (basic and with clothes)
i removed the piercings she had bc considering that they spend the majority of their time in arctic waters i think having metal directly in your skin is a bad idea, no matter how thick your blubber is; i also gave her typical white markings a green hue bc ... i liked how it looked and makes them stand out a little more
(i will not repeat what i wrote on the post about the captain but wanted to add a bit of more info about Ki'ita herself)
(i dont have ALL of their backstory done yet but) the captain and Ki'ita worked together in another organization, one in which the father of the captains child also worked at, before being betrayed and barely managing to escape, after which the both of them founded their pirate crew (possible name is the Solar Pirates bc of their solar powered boat stuff); since the captain had her daughter shortly afterwards Ki'ita managed most of the organisational matters at first, including the construction of their base on an abandoned island they had initially fled to
over the years they invented the solar powered ships that allowed them to gain control over a large part of an important trade route, leaving normal ships (mostly) alone but attacking those of hunters and similar, rescuing demons and mutants, even some humans from them, most of which also join the crew and it quickly lead to them becoming their own little community
Ki'ita does not like to spend alot of time among large groups of people, no matter how much she cares about them, and her originally being from norther lands gave her the idea to explore, and if viable, do underground missions in those norther areas to disrupt the infrastructure the hunters had built in recent years and overall keep the crew informed about things that may otherwise stay hidden; with each of their travels her time absent from the base increased but the patience of the captain is wearing thin so its likely a serious talk is underway on Ki'itas third solo mission she nearly died due to entanglement in abandoned nets made by hunters from an unknown material that she could not break, the massive scars on her tail especially come from that, only surviving bc the date they were supposed to return to the crew had passed and the captain grew to worried about her and made the entire crew rush into an emergency search, including the captain herself and her toddler, who were not suited for the cold climate just like the rest of crew, taking a huge risk that Ki'ita still feels ashamed of for causing; they stayed within the base for a whole year afterwards, not just to recover but also as a silent apology, taking time preparing herself to ensure theyd not get into a situation like that again
(before departing on their next mission the captain gifted her a sword with the blade made from the material of the net, a wooden handle, bc of the cold, and a blue wrap around it reminiscent of the captains striking blue teeth; a reminder of what had happened, a means to defend herself when their strength and teeth are not enough, and also a promise to always return again)
the oldest members of the crew know Ki'ita well and treat her like an old friend, among the newer members she has more of a .. cryptic status, the mysteriously absent vice-captain who only appears every few months or so out of thin air, throws a big party, sleeps for a few days and then vanishes again, the only hint to when they will return soon again being the captain getting noticably grumpier
(OC art, Ki'ita, she/they)
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midnight-black2 · 6 months ago
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Ahh this is my first time requesting anything but I need prompt 5 for Farleigh 🙈
Imagine him being cocky for getting a higher score than reader and reader basically putting him in his place. 🫣🫣 (also i’m absolutely obsessed with your writing!!)
𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐘
pairing : farleigh start x reader
synopsis : pretty much what the req says
disclaimers : sub!farleigh, dom!reader, public sexual intercourse (idk what this is called), handjob (m!recieving), slightly mean reader, degradation, ruined orgasm, probably more lol
note : thanks for the compliment ! hope you enjoy this '
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it was by five points, five fucking points, and all farleigh did was torture you about it.
typically, you scored higher than him, mostly because you just straight up put in more effort. he couldn't care less about studying, he was just a naturally good tester. for this reason, he normally knew his place. but the one time he studied and you didn't, the one goddamn time. he wouldn't let you live it out, all he would ever do was talk about it, teasing you and making fun of you.
"wow Y/N, i think you're falling off," he stated, with a sarcastic, disapproving look. he was leaning over, hovering over your shoulder to get a proper look at your score. you were flabbergasted, you actually got a 95%. farleigh had gotten an 100%. if was quite literally embarrassing. that was when it first happened, but he didn't leave it there, oh no.
"ah-ah, don't you think i should skip ahead of you?" farleigh asked, his annoying voice startling you from your thoughts.
"what?"
"well i got a higher score, those have always been our rules." the thing you hated most was that he was right. it was also stupid because he made the damn rule, and you didn't care about being ahead in the lunch line one way or another. you figured the only reason he had done it was to make victory that much sweeter when he actually did score higher than you. so you stayed silent, letting him sit ahead of you.
and another incident...
"so if anyone here needs tutoring, don't hesitate to ask. our programs are specifically designed to connect students while effectively getting them to learn," mrs. abram spoke, as she handed out tutoring flyers.
farleigh shot you a glance, before mumbling your name, and covering it up with a fake cough. you groaned, with a sigh before frustratedly stuffing the flyer in your bag. he was being insufferable, and there was only so much you could take.
the final (notable) time he teased you, you two were partnered on a history project, the exact class he had excelled on the exam in. of course, just your fucking luck.
as he sat down, he had this complacent smirk on his face that you wanted to slap right off. he set the assignment papers down on the desk, and turned over to face you.
"well, i'm glad we got partnered, yeah? you probably need my help," he said, mockingly.
"jesus christ farleigh it was five fucking points! get over yourself!" there it was, you snapped. it was only a matter of time, though it just so happened to be in the middle of class. farleigh's smirk only grew, as if this was what he had wanted the entire time. the teacher had scolded you for cursing, and almost dismissed you from class. fortunately, you managed to stay, and the whole time you felt the urgent need to snap farleigh in half.
finally, after what felt like days, the class ended. however, instead of heading to the next class, you followed farleigh down the hall, before pushing him inside of some random storage closet. he was about to ask you what you were doing, he was about to leave...until you said something.
"what the fuck, farleigh," you uttered, coldly. he faltered, something in the way you sounded made him feel some sort of way. it was dark, and farleigh couldn't make out much, but if he had to guess, your expression would have been that of a deadpan, glaring into his soul.
"i don't get why you're so mad. i scored higher, and that's final."
"i'm mad because you don't know your fucking place." you spat back, inching closer to him.
"yeah? and what's my place, hm?" he questioned. his voice had an edge to it, but more than that he was genuinely curious.
"beneath me," you answered, no hesitation whatsoever. did you say it because that's what you actually thought? no. were you angry? yes. did you think farleigh would get off to it? also yes--and, he did. he did so much that he was developing a hard-on.
"you sure about that?" he asked, voice wavering.
"your dick is," you replied, gripping his cock in his pants. his knees buckled, and he let out the smallest whimper, that was nearly inaudible. "you're so pathetic, farleigh."
"yeah? well you're still gonna give me a handjob. so pathetic or not at least-" he cut himself off with a moan as you squeezed roughly once again.
"just shut the fuck up for once," you instructed, as you unzipped his fly. you, not-so-gently, took his cock from his boxers. his tip was an angry flushed red, and leaking pre. you chuckled at the sight, and he turned to face away, embarrassed.
you thumbed at his tip, and he whined softly. your fingers formed a circle shape, before sliding up and down at mid-pace. if you didn't want to miss too much of your next class, you'd have to make this quick.
"f-fuck, Y/N," he moaned, bucking his hips up slightly. you placed a hand on his hips to keep them pinned. you sped up your pace just a bit.
"is this what you've been wanting, farleigh? i really don't know how you got an 100% because all you seem to do is think with this stupid cock of yours," you said, as it was your turn to smirk this time. his head tipped back with a strained moan.
"shit, oh my god," he cursed, feeling himself grow close to an orgasm already.
"guess i should've done this a lot sooner, hm? really would've shut you up." your hand became brutal, but god did he like it.
"please," he said, not even sure what he was begging for. it was too much for him.
"please? are you serious? you take what i give you, farleigh." he whined at that, cursing under his breath.
"fuck Y/N, i can't-i...i think im gonna cum," he stammered, as his legs felt light, like they would give out any second. and just like that, you stopped. he whined, as you shoved his cock back in his underwear, and zipped back up his pants. you had left him with a raging boner, and he felt he could cry at that. as you exited the closet, he couldn't help but fear what he had gotten himself into.
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𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥
𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
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