#but there’s kind of one in particular I always think of with my older sister and my dad

[skyward-floored]

It’s weird how some memories really stick with you and sort of shape you as a person in some ways but the other people involved like... don’t even remember it happening sometimes

[pedrospatch]

fall into temptation | one

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56, i know, i know but this is self indulgent because my birthday is next month idk just let me have this one) canon language, canon violence, several mentions of religion, terms pastor and preacher are used interchangeably here and there, mentions of the bible and religious symbols (cross), innocent/virgin reader, very brief scene of attempted sexual assault, no explicit smut (yet). asshole Joel, protective Joel, hints of softish dom Joel (if you squint). reader has two sisters, the only physical description for them is their hair, which they can also braid as well as their style of clothing.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 8.4k

Jackson, Wyoming

Fall 2024

Joel had seen him around the community before. 

He’s an older man in his late sixties or possibly his early seventies with thinning, snow white hair and silver, wire rimmed glasses that always seemed to be perched on the tip of his pointed nose. He was a good, kind man from what Joel could gather—offering up warm smiles and friendly waves to anyone who happened to cross his path, stopping to greet and say hello to familiar faces. The hem of his starched white shirt is tucked into pressed black slacks and even from where he stood across the road near the horse stables, Joel noticed the book clutched in his right hand, old and bound in supple, worn black leather with the words Holy Bible etched into the cover in flaked gold lettering.

Jacob, he thinks his name is. Or was it Josiah?

Something biblical—a name fit for a man who was so fucking clearly devoted to the big man upstairs.

Joel knew his own name was a biblical one, but he was the furthest thing from a man of God. After all that he’d done in the past twenty years, there was only one place he was going and that place wasn’t exactly known for its pearly gates or sweet cherub angels playing harps.

Joseph? Was that it? 

He couldn’t be certain.

Not that Joel really even cared to know his name. 

It’d been a couple months since Joel arrived back in Jackson with Ellie after Salt Lake City and the truth of the matter was that he preferred to keep to himself whenever it was possible. Joel had zero interest in getting to know the people of this settlement, not unless he had to for the sake of patrol duties—and that’s only if he hadn’t been able to weasel his way out of getting assigned with a partner who wasn’t Tommy or Maria, the only two people in the whole fucking community Joel could stand being around. Minus his kid of course, but even he and Ellie could really only take each other in small doses lately. Perhaps it was their tense, strained relationship that was to blame for the fact that Joel Miller walked around this place with a standoffish attitude and a permanent scowl plastered on his face. 

Most people were smart enough to scamper off in the opposite direction when they saw him coming. He was never offended by it. It’s what he wanted. He wasn’t here to make friends.

In fact, the closest thing he had come to a friend outside of his brother’s wife was Esther, the woman Maria and Tommy had tried setting him up with when he first got back to Jackson. He wouldn’t go as far as calling her a friend, either. That’s a little too generous. Friend? No, more like a good fuck when he couldn’t drown his bitterness with Seth’s barrel aged bourbon and he was in need of a different kind of distraction.

But there was a reason this particular man piqued his curiosity. Actually, there were three reasons he managed to garner Joel’s attention and all three of those reasons were trailing behind him in an orderly, single file line, each one more fucking gorgeous than the last. He was positive he’d never seen them around before—because how could he possibly forget the faces of the most beautiful women in this town?

They’ve gotta be sisters, Joel thought to himself, his hand resting on the neck of the horse that he’d ridden out to patrol that morning, a dark, chestnut mare named Willow. Although he was supposed to be walking her inside the stables and back into her stall, he found himself far too distracted. While the three women weren’t identical to one another, the similarity in their traits such as hair color and their skin tone confirmed his suspicions that they were related. They all styled their hair in neat halo braids and wore slightly different color variations of the same getup—pressed, long sleeved blouses tucked into knee length floral printed skirts and worn, leather oxford shoes.

Clutching the brown leather strap of his rifle in his opposite hand, Joel leaned himself against Willow and squinted against the bright afternoon sunlight in an effort to get a better look at them. 

The first two were slightly on the older side. If Joel had to take a shot at their age, he would guess the women were in their thirties—a man of fifty six, he still had about two decades on them, easy. Joel let his gaze shift, his dark brown eyes flickering to the last one. His breath audibly hitched in his throat and part of him wondered just how fucking dumb he had to be to be drawn to the youngest one of the three. It couldn’t be fucking possible—you couldn’t be that much older than your mid twenties, if that. 

Joel’s grip on the strap of his rifle tightened. 

All three of you were beautiful beyond words—why the fuck did it have to be you who held over his interest?

“Take a picture,” Maria remarked with a tiny laugh. She dismounted her horse and peered at Joel over the black stallion’s back. “It’ll last longer.”

She’d led that morning’s patrol, her first time back on duty since she had given birth to her son in the spring. Joel had returned to Jackson right on time to meet his one month old nephew, Noah. 

He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Just tryin’ to figure out what their deal is, that’s all.” He paused, then remarked, “Didn’t know polygamy was a thing around here.”

His comment must have struck a nerve in his dear sister in law—fiercely protective of the people who were under her leadership, Maria hadn’t found the sister wives implication the slightest bit amusing. 

“Watch it, Joel,” she admonished, shooting him a warning glare. “He’s the town’s pastor and those girls happen to be his daughters. So let’s keep our wise ass cracks to ourselves, shall we?”

His daughters? He almost couldn’t believe it. Surely the girls must have taken after their mother because they sure as hell didn’t get their good looks from their old man. They hardly looked anything like him.

“Pastor,” Joel repeated with a small hum. He then remembered her pointing out an old church house back during the winter when she’d given him and Ellie the grand tour of the community. “So he ain’t got a real job like the rest of us?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “His job is a real job, Joel. It might be hard for you to believe, but there are still a lot of people of faith around here,” she explained to him. “He provides them with comfort and with hope—”

He snorted sharply through his nose. “Hope?”

“Yes, hope,” she snapped at him. 

“Hope for what, Maria? That things will go back to fuckin’ normal? That the end of the world is temporary?”

Maria crossed her arms over her chest, jutting her chin. “Some people never lose hope, Joel. There’s a lot of people who need this man and he serves a much bigger purpose than what you’re giving him credit for.”

“And what about the girls? They have it easy too? Do they just stand there lookin’ pretty on Sundays while their old man reads verses out loud from the most useless fuckin’ book known to man?”

“If you must know, they work in the schoolhouse,” she answered, tossing him another glare. “They’re teachers. The oldest one, she teaches Ellie’s class. The middle one, she teaches the primary school aged children and the youngest? She takes care of all of our little ones. She prepares our preschool kids for her sister’s class by teaching them numbers and basic literacy. Shows them how to start counting, reading and writing, things like that. She also helps run the commune’s daycare.”

“At least they have real jobs,” Joel mumbled under his breath. 

“What was that?”

He feigned innocence. “Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Maria pointed her finger at him. “Come on, let’s get these guys back into their stalls. It was a long ride this morning, I’m sure they could use some rest.” Taking her stallion by the reins, she started leading him over toward Logan, one of the stable hands who helped take in the horses coming back from patrol. 

Joel took Willow’s reins in his hands—but before he could even think of moving another muscle, he glanced up and saw the preacher leading his three daughters past the stables and right past Joel. His self control faltered. All that he could do was stare at you, his eyes fixed on you so blatantly that one of your sisters had taken notice. Grinning, she turned back towards you and lifted a hand to her mouth. She used her palm to shield her lips from Joel’s view and whispered something to you over her shoulder.

Shit. 

He’d been caught gawking.

He thought about making a beeline for the stables but it was too late. 

Perplexed by whatever it was that your older sister had just said to you, you gave her an odd look, but then followed the subtle nod of her head. 

Glimpsing over in his direction, your lips parted in complete surprise and you came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the dirt road when you found your gaze meeting that of the much older, rugged man standing there with a gun slung over his shoulder.

Unsure of what else to do, Joel simply offered you a polite nod of his head. The gesture was innocent enough but it startled you. He could tell by the way you let out a small gasp and turned away from him, your eyes falling to the ground as you scurried to catch up to your father and sisters like a spooked little mouse. 

Joel couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.

“Is the preacher aware that his precious little daughters pay frequent visits to The Tipsy Bison at such late and ungodly hours?” Joel quipped. He gestured to a booth nestled over in a corner of the dimly lit bar with a subtle jerk of his chin. “S’gotta be the third or fourth time I’ve seen them here in the last couple of weeks.”

Tommy’s eyes followed his brother’s gesture. “Oh man, not again,” he said with an exasperated sigh. He shook his head. “Those girls, they ain’t got no fuckin’ business hangin’ around this place and much less at this fuckin’ hour. But the middle one, she’s a whole lot of trouble.” He paused, just long enough to nod at one of the three sisters, the one who was wearing her hair loose around her shoulders, twirling a lock of it around her finger as she made flirtatious fuck me eyes at the group of drunk patrolmen sitting a few tables away. “She’s somethin’ of a rebel, that one. Likes to drink a lot, get herself involved with things that she ain’t really supposed to be messin’ with. She’s the one who convinces the other two into sneakin’ out and comin’ to the bar when their old man goes to sleep.”

Joel chuckled in disbelief. “You fuckin’ serious?”

“As a heart attack. And then there’s the older one. I know she likes to drink too, but she’s a lot calmer than the other one. Ain’t gotta worry about her all too much, y’know? She tries to be the chaperone—it don’t always work out that way, though. Her halo ain’t exactly perfect either.”

“What ‘bout the youngest one?” Joel asked in the most nonchalant tone he could possibly muster. “Where does she fall on the scale between angel and devil?”

You’re carefully perched on the edge of the booth, your pretty features twisting in disgust with every sip of the rich, amber colored liquid in your glass. Unable to stomach the burning alcohol, you set it off to the side, abandoning it in favor of a glass of water instead.

“Her?” Tommy grinned, leaning back into his chair as stated, “Oh, she’s an absolute angel. She’s just ‘bout the sweetest fuckin’ thing you’ll ever see in your whole damn life, big brother. She’s gotta be the kinda girl who all the little birds and woodland critters sing to when there ain’t no one around,” he laughed. “She’s real good. Too good. Wouldn’t surprise me if the lord sent her down from heaven himself.”

Joel tossed him a skeptical look across the table.

“She really as innocent as she seems?” 

“I don’t think she even knows what it’s like to hold another man’s hand,” his younger brother laughed again and reached for his beer, taking a generous swig. 

Joel hummed softly and lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips. The mere thought of you being so pure and so innocent—untouched by anyone else—caused something to stir deep in his lower belly. 

“She’s the old man’s pride and joy,” Tommy continued, breaking into his train of thought. “Kind. Polite. Behaves. Doesn’t get herself into any kinda trouble—I mean look at her, she can’t even choke down a glass of whiskey. She’s just too good of a girl.”

Joel proceeded cautiously with his next question. “Any of them taken?” 

Surprised, Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Joel, don’t fuckin’ tell me—”

“No, I ain’t interested,” he interjected, rolling his eyes. “Just a curious motherfucker, that’s all.”

He didn’t seem too convinced by Joel’s answer. “They’re all single from what I know. To be honest, there ain’t a whole lot of men around here their old man would approve of,” he remarked. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice man and all, but when it comes to his daughters, he’s real strict. Not that controllin’ has done him much good, though.” He lowered his voice as a fellow patrolman walked past their table. “The middle one’s fucked her way through this entire town and then back again. She even made a pass at me while Maria was pregnant with Noah, if you can fuckin’ believe that.”

Amused, Joel snorted into his drink. Ballsy. “How goddamn drunk was she?”

Tommy ran a hand through his jet black curls. “Wasted. Oldest one ain’t exactly the Virgin Mary, either.”

“And the old man doesn’t know?”

“Nope. Ain’t nobody gonna snitch on grown women in their thirties.” Noticing the amused expression on Joel’s face, he adds, “By the way, just in case you haven’t figured it out, this stays between us, Joel.”

He smirked. “Which part?”

“All of it. And take it from me, those girls? S’best you keep your distance from them,” he warned as he stood up from the table. He picked up the blue denim jacket draped over his chair, shrugging into it. “Don’t go gettin’ any dumbass ideas, alright?”

“Look, if the wild one makes a pass at me, I ain’t gonna turn her down. S’not like I’ve got a pregnant wife at home.”

“Joel, I fuckin’ swear. If you even think ‘bout it—”

He held up his hands to stop him. “Relax. Was just a joke.”

“Right. M’sure it was.” Tommy snorted. “Listen, I gotta get back home. Don’t wanna leave Maria on her own with the baby for too long.”

“How’s she been holdin’ up?”

“She’s been so tired. Jugglin’ motherhood, runnin’ this place, and bein’ back on patrol duty. I keep on tryin’ to tell her to slow it down, but she just won’t listen to me.” He let out a small sigh and waved a dismissive hand. “But anyway. If you’re all good to head out, I can walk you back to your place since it’s on the way to mine?”

Joel looked down at his glass, still half full. “I think I’m gonna hang back for a while longer. I’m on the roster for evenin’ patrol tomorrow, s’not like I’ve gotta be up at the ass crack of dawn.”

“Suit yourself.” Clapping him on the back, Tommy bid him goodnight and started towards the door. 

As soon as he was gone, Joel looked over towards your booth. He watched as you whispered into the ear of your eldest sister who nodded her head in understanding. You stood up and said something else to her, then spun around on your heel, long skirt flowing along with the movement. Head down, you hastily made your way across the bar, being careful so as not to bump into anyone along the way.

You were leaving. Alone. 

In the middle of the fucking night? While drunk morons poured in and out of the bar?

She’ll be just fine, he tried to convince himself. 

Joel frowned to himself, gripping his drink tightly in his hand as he scanned the room.

Sitting at a nearby table was Kent, some idiot he’d been stuck with a time or two for patrol. He clocks the smirk that crossed the younger man’s face, his eyes following you all the way to the door. Leaning forward over the table, he whispered something to his buddies, his smirk widening. His comrades, all who looked and behaved more like teenagers rather than grown men, lifted their beers to him, nodding in encouragement. Drunk off his ass, Kent drained the rest of his own beer, slamming the glass bottle down onto the table before clumsily stumbling to his feet. 

Joel momentarily froze as soon as he realized what was happening. 

Kent was going after you. 

Joel’s lips pressed together into a tight, thin line.

Setting his drink down, he stood up from his table and slipped on his jacket before following suit.

Joel stepped out of the bar and into the night, the chilly evening air nipping at his face. He took a look around. 

You were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Kent. 

That couldn’t fucking be good. 

“Where the fuck did you two go,” he muttered to himself under his breath.

That’s when he heard it. 

The sound of muffled screaming coming from the side of the building. Joel didn’t hesitate. Following your smothered cries for help, he whipped around into the dimly lit alley nestled in between the bar and the commune’s mess hall. You’re pinned underneath Kent with your skirt bunched up around your waist. One of his hands was covering your mouth while his other hand clawed its way up your bare thigh. 

“Aw, c’mon now, sugar,” Kent slurred his words together. “It’d be a fucking shame to let someone as cute as you stay a fucking virgin. Don’t be coy—I know you’re just like your stupid slut of a sister. She’s got no trouble spreading her fucking legs for me, y’know.”

Red.

It was the color that flashed in Joel’s mind. It was all he could see as he went up behind Kent, letting his hands reach for fistfuls of his leather jacket. He lifted him off of you with ease, slamming him hard against the brick wall of the mess hall. Pulling him forward, Joel slammed his body into the wall once more, knocking all the wind out of his lungs. 

“Miller, what the fuck are you doing!” Kent gasped out, frantically pawing at the older man’s hands in an effort to break free. “Get the fuck off me!”

“Takin’ advantage of an innocent girl?” Joel hissed at him, tightening his grasp on the collar of Kent’s jacket. “Think that makes you a fuckin’ man?”

Though he was still intoxicated, the sheer terror of being caught in Joel Miller’s hands sobered him just enough that he started sputtering an explanation. “I wasn’t fucking taking advantage of her! Her and her whore sisters were making eyes at me and the guys all fucking night! She fucking wanted it! She asked me for it, couldn’t even wait long enough to get back to my place—”

The lie came straight through his chattering teeth. The same teeth he would be picking up off the ground in the next minute or two. 

Joel knew he didn’t need to ask. Still, he turned to you, his rage only intensifying when he took in the sight of you lying there on the ground, the hem of your light blue floral skirt hiked around your waist. 

“That true?” He questioned you. “You wanted it?”

You stared at him with wide and fearful eyes.

A single tear slipped down the side of your face.

“Answer me, darlin’,” he prompted. “You wanted this?”

“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was small, barely audible.

But he’d heard it loud and clear. 

“She’s lying!” Kent tried to tell him. “She’s—”

Joel delivered the first punch, a blow so hard he’d felt the younger man’s nose crack underneath his curled fist. He struck him again and again, the blows coming in harder and harder, turning Kent’s face into a bloodied pulp.

If Joel didn’t get a grip, he would kill him. Part of him wanted to fucking kill Kent for putting his hands you—and more so for accusing of you wanting it. Pathetic fucking bastard. 

Holding Kent up by the throat with one hand, Joel pulled his switchblade from the back pocket of his jeans with the other. Fingers curled tightly around the hilt, Joel held up the knife into Kent’s view. He had left his eyes purple and swollen, but judging by the pitiful little pleas for mercy, it was clear that he could still somehow see the sharp blade being held an inch or so away from his face. 

“If I ever catch you anywhere near her again, I ain’t gonna be so fuckin’ generous,” Joel growled warningly. “I ain’t gonna let you walk away next time, boy. That understood?”

He nodded. “Un—Understood.”

“Good.” Joel released him, stepping backwards as he fell to the ground. “Get the fuck outta my face. Now.”

Kent managed to scramble to his feet and staggered off, disappearing from the alley. 

Chest heaving, Joel inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled it through his mouth before turning to you once more. 

Petrified, you still hadn’t moved a single muscle.

You looked fucking terrified. Whether it was from Kent’s assault or the way Joel had nearly beaten him to death right in front of you, it was hard to tell.

Crouching down beside you, Joel caught your subtle flinch. He proceeded to move slowly as he reached for the hem of your skirt. Delicately, he gripped the soft, flowing fabric and pulled it down into place. Joel then held his hand out to you. 

You hesitated for a split second, but accepted his hand and allowed him to help you up to your feet. 

“You alright, little dove?” The nickname had fallen from his lips before he could even think to stop it. 

“I think so,” you replied, nodding your head. You’d started to tremble and even though it had nothing to do with being cold, Joel took notice of it and he shrugged out of his camel colored jacket. He gave it to you, draping it over your shoulders. The scent of him instantly enveloped you—a mouth watering masculine mixture of clean soap, woodiness, and musk. It was far more intoxicating than the scotch you had tried back inside the bar. He didn’t utter a word to you as he wrapped his jacket around your body, both of his hands pulling gently at the lapels to bring them together in front of your chest. That was when you glanced down and saw he’d injured his hand. You gasped lightly. “Are you okay?”

Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Joel hadn’t even noticed that he’d split his knuckles wide open. Giving it a light shake, he assured you gruffly, “M’fine.”

Without thinking it through, you gingerly grabbed Joel’s hand, holding it in both of yours. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” you countered. You inspected it as best as you could in such poor lighting. “You’re bleeding.”

“Trust me, I’ve had a whole lot worse,” he deadpanned.

Ignoring his remark, you asked, “Can you move all your fingers for me? Just to make sure that it isn’t broken?”

Joel felt a strange warmth radiate in his chest. 

Fucking hell, Tommy had been right about you. 

You really were too good.

“Darlin’ I already told you m’fine—”

“Please?”

That word, and the way you’d said it, sent a shiver up the length of his spine.

Joel started wiggling his fingers in your palms. He winced slightly at the soreness. More than that, he knew his cuts and bruises would be all the fucking proof Tommy and Maria would need to know that he had been the one who rearranged Kent’s face. 

“See?” He spoke after a minute as he continued to move his fingers up and down. “Ain’t broken.”

“Let me clean you up,” you offered. Looking up at him, you cradled his hand as if it were a fragile baby bird you wanted to take home and nurse back to health.

“That really ain’t necessary.”

“You just saved me from—it’s the least I can do for you,” you insisted. Seeing him open his mouth just to protest again, you cut him off. “Please?”

There it was again.

Christ. That word sounded too good coming from those plush, pretty lips of yours. 

Joel sighed out in defeat. “Alright then,” he relented. “I s’ppose there ain’t no harm in lettin’ you clean me up a bit, little dove.”

Pleased that he had finally accepted, you carefully let go of his hand and took a step back, beckoning for him to follow you. “Come with me,” you said to him. “I know somewhere private we can go.”

When you came to a stop at the old church house, Joel shook his head and took a step backwards. 

Puzzled, your brows knitted together. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

He backed away further. “I ain’t goin’ in there.” 

You tossed him an amused glance. “It’s a church.”

“Yeah, I know that. I ain’t exactly a man of God.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle. “So? What does that have to do with me taking you inside to clean your hand up for you?”

Shuffling his weight from boot to boot, Joel shrugged. “Just don’t think I belong in there, that’s all.”

“Do you think you’re going to melt if you step foot inside?” you teased him. After a minute, it became apparent that he was being serious about it. Joel’s discomfort about going inside the church wasn’t some kind of joke on his part, it was real. “Don’t be silly. It doesn’t matter that you’re not a man of God. That doesn’t mean that you’re going to explode or burn into a pile of ashes for going inside, you know.”

“After all the terrible shit I’ve done?” He looked up at the building, shaking his head again. “I just might burn, little dove.”

You bit back a small smile. You’d already grown to be quite fond of his sweet nickname for you. 

“There’s a first aid kit inside I can use to patch you up,” you told him. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

His lower lip rolled in between teeth as he thought it over. “I ain’t too sure about this—”

“It’s only going to take me five minutes to get your hand cleaned up and then you can leave. Okay?”

You were as stubborn as you were sweet. How the fuck was he supposed to say no to you?

Reluctantly, Joel finally agreed to it. “Okay.” He followed you up the creaking, wooden porch steps towards the double doors. He’d just started to wonder how the two of you were even supposed to get into the building after hours when you leaned down, lifting the old mat on the floor to reveal a set of keys. Unable to help himself, he scoffed, “Serious?”

“Doesn’t everyone keep a key under their mat?” 

“Yeah at their fuckin’ house. Not their church.” 

“Well to be fair, this is kind of like a second home. I spend quite a bit of time here,” you confessed.

Joel raised an eyebrow at you. “So much time that you’ve decided to keep a set of keys under the mat?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night, I’ll come here alone and sit with my thoughts for a while.” You shrugged. “Maria let me have the spare set of keys. She knows I come here and so does the rest of the council. I trespass with their full permission,” you kidded with a small grin. 

Unlocking one of the two doors, you stepped over the threshold and waited expectantly for Joel. But he stood there, making no move to join you on the other side. 

“This place gives me the fuckin’ creeps,” he admitted. 

You laughed. “It’s only the outside that’s creepy, I promise.”

Grimacing, Joel finally walked inside, his back and shoulders stiff with tension as he stepped into the place of worship. 

You closed the door and flipped on the lights, then opened a second set of double doors with another key from the ring. 

“Whoa.” He was pleasantly surprised. For as old as this place was, the interior of the church was quite nice. He could tell that it had been well cared for in its lifetime—the former contractor in him had little choice but to appreciate the high ceiling, the large windows, and the satin finish of the white paint on the rustic, wooden panel walls. 

There were a total of twelve pews, six on each side of the church. There was an older, antique piano in pristine condition nestled over in one corner of the room and in another, there was a large chalkboard propped up on a wooden easel, biblical verses that had been the focus of the congregation’s previous gathering still scribbled across it in white chalk. 

“See?” You nudged his arm with your elbow. “This isn’t so awful, right?”

“S’ppose it ain’t all that bad,” he muttered. 

Your eyes twinkled with pure amusement, adding, “And you didn’t burn into a pile of ashes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel grumbled out in response. “Can we just get this over with so I can get outta here?”

You tossed him a playful little eye roll then nodded towards the pews. “Go ahead and just have a seat anywhere,” you instructed him. “I’ll be right back.”

You disappeared down a short, dimly lit corridor.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel slowly made his way down the aisle holding his injured hand against his chest. Now that the adrenaline had started wearing off, it’d started throbbing with pain.

There was an altar at the front of the church—if he could even call it an altar. 

It was a plain oakwood table with a white fair linen cloth draped over it and nothing else. 

Above it, bolted onto the wall, was a wooden cross.

He averted his eyes, turning away from it. 

Of all the shit to be intimidated by in this world. 

A fucking slab of carved wood. 

Joel’s attention shifted over to the chalkboard. He squinted at it, silently reading the verse to himself.

God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability. 1 Corinthians 10:13

“But with the temptation, he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it,” you recited the rest of the verse from behind him.

“No offense darlin’, but it sounds like nothin’ but a whole lotta gibberish to me,” he remarked to you over his shoulder. 

“No offense taken, Joel.”

Whirling around on the heel of his worn boot, Joel blurted, “How did you know my name?”

“You’re Tommy Miller’s brother. Everybody in this town knows your name.” You held up the white tin box in your hands. A big, red cross had been spray painted onto the lid. You sat down in the first pew and patted the seat right beside you. “Come sit.”

He sauntered over and dropped down next to you, watching as you opened up the box and started digging through its contents. “You know my name,” he stated after a few seconds of silence. “Sure would be nice for me to know yours.”

Smiling politely, you told him your name.

Joel repeated it. It rolled almost too sweetly off his tongue.

“S’real pretty, little dove. Just like you.”

His compliment nearly knocked all of the air out of your lungs and for a split second, you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Cheeks burning, you murmured a small thank you and plucked a bottle of saline solution from the kit along with a piece of clean cotton. You tried not to think about the way his eyes were fixed intently on you as you unscrewed the cap and poured a bit of the liquid onto the cotton. “It shouldn’t sting,” you reassured him, reaching for Joel’s injured hand. It was rough and calloused, a stark contrast against your own soft and smooth. You set his hand down on your knee, a strange sensation fluttering in the depths of your lower belly when the warmth of his skin seeped right through the fabric of your skirt. 

Comfortable silence fell over the both of you like a curtain as you started cleaning the blood off of his knuckles and his long, thick fingers. 

“You really believe in all this stuff?” Joel spoke, his question echoing off the bare walls of the church. 

You continued dabbing at his cuts, thinking it over in your head for a moment.

“I honestly don’t know,” you admitted.

Your answer took him by complete surprise.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I have always been taught to believe in God, Joel. It’s all that I’ve ever known. I grew up in a religious community,” you explained to him, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his hand. Tossing aside the bloodied wad of cotton, you picked up another piece adding more saline to it. “After the outbreak, things changed, of course. I couldn’t imagine how He could let something like this happen. When we lost our mother to infection about five years ago, I stopped praying. I finally stopped holding onto the ounce of hope I had that He would make the world right again. I refused to believe in God. Sometimes I still do,” you confessed quietly.

“You said you spend a lot of time here. Why come to church if you’re not even sure you believe in any of this shit anymore?”

“I’m always here because there’s still a part of me that thinks there’s a chance for me to believe again. When I told you I come here when I can’t sleep at night, it’s true. It’s my time to be here completely alone, the time that I use to mend my broken relationship with God. Or at least, I’ve been trying to mend it.” Taking a little glass pot of homemade antibiotic ointment one of the women in the town made and traded, you took off the lid and scooped out some of the salve with the tip of your finger. You applied it carefully to his cuts and continued, “But lately, the more that I try to pray and talk to Him, the more foolish I feel. It’s just not working. It hasn’t been working for a long, long time.”

“Then why keep tryin’ if it ain’t workin’ anymore?”

“Because I don’t really have much of a choice.”

“Your old man?” Joel guessed, wincing slightly as you went over a particularly sore spot on his hand, right over the torn up knuckle of his index finger. 

“Mhm.” You nodded. “My father never lost faith in Him. He knows how I feel, but he refuses to let me give up on God. He won’t ever let me miss church or go to bed without reciting my nightly prayer. He won’t let me abandon our faith. Not until the day he is cold and buried in his grave.”

“So what I’m gettin’ is that he forces you?”

You finished applying the ointment and wiped the remnants lingering on your finger off on your skirt.

“Force is such a harsh word. I wouldn’t say that—”

“He’s forcin’ you,” Joel said, flatly. 

“Joel—”

“You can twist it however the hell you want, sweet girl,” he cut you off. “But if you’re tryin’ this fuckin’ hard to make yourself believe in somethin’ just for the sake of appeasin’ your dad because he can’t or won’t accept how you really feel ‘bout all this, well I hate to break it to you, but you’re bein’ forced.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words. 

You had never thought about it like that before.

Placing the lid back onto the pot of ointment, you put it back into the first aid kit and then set the tin box down onto the floor. You sat back and clasped your hands together in your lap, not knowing what else to say to him. 

He was right, after all. 

Joel’s fingers lightly squeezed your knee. “Hey.”

You brought your gaze over to meet his. “Hm?”

“Can I ask you somethin’ ‘bout your dad?”

“What is it?” 

Joel chose his words carefully. “Has he ever—he ain’t ever done anythin’ to hurt you, has he?” he asked you, earning himself a perplexed stare. He continued to elaborate. “What I mean is, he ever put his hands on you or anythin’ like that?”

Oh. That’s what he meant.

“Never,” you assured him quickly. “He would never lay a single finger on me or my two sisters.”

He gave your knee another squeeze. “Just needed to make sure of it, sweetheart. Back in the day, I used to hear and see awful things on the news ‘bout—”

You were quick to cut him off. “Look, my father isn’t perfect, but he’s not like that. He’s a good man who only wants what is best for us. He’s strict and he can be tough, but it’s only because he cares. He just doesn’t want us running down the wrong path.”

“The wrong path?”

You shrugged. “Life here in Jackson is decent, but there’s a lot of temptations he doesn’t want any of us falling into. He wants to protect us.”

“By controllin’ you.” 

It had been a statement, not a question. 

Giving him a wry smile, you assured him, “Joel, it’s really not as bad as you’re making it sound. I could be a whole lot worse off than this, you know.”

There was another short bout of silence.

Joel’s dark eyes fell to your blouse, noticing how a couple of the top buttons had come undone. 

He caught the slightest glimpse of the soft curves of your breasts—all it had taken was just a peek at them for his cock to twitch against the zipper of his jeans.

Don’t you get hard in a fuckin’ church, Miller.

His gaze wandered down a little further and that’s when he caught sight of the cross hanging from a delicate gold chain clasped around your neck.

Joel expected the sight of it to calm the straining in his jeans. Somehow, it only made it worse. 

“Earlier, when we were standing outside,” you had started to say, “You said you might burn if you came inside the church because of all the terrible shi—things that you’ve done.”

“S’right.”

You peered at him with curiosity. “So what exactly have you done, Joel?”

Joel leaned back into the pew, shaking his head at you as he finally pulled his hand from your knee. 

“You really don’t wanna know, little dove.”

“Why not?”

His answer was honest.  “Don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Angling your body towards him, you placed one of your hands on his thigh. Your fingers burned right through the dark blue denim of his jeans.

Joel’s lips parted slightly, taken aback by the bold move and the sudden shift in your demeanor.

Were you the same girl who’d nearly had a fucking heart attack a couple of weeks ago when Joel had nodded at you back at the stables? 

“I’m not scared of you,” you murmured, softly. You gave his leg a squeeze, pulling your plump bottom lip between your teeth. Between that and the wide innocent doe eyes that you were giving him, it was taking every last ounce of strength Joel had inside him to keep a straight face, to pretend you weren’t driving him absolutely wild with desire.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt such an incredible need to have someone. 

Want, sure. 

He had wanted Tess. He had wanted Esther. 

But Joel didn’t just want you. 

He fucking needed you. 

And he didn’t know why.

“I’m not scared of you,” you repeated, trailing your hand further up his thigh, setting a fire neither one of you would soon be able to contain. 

Joel leaned forward, bringing his face dangerously close towards yours. His warm breath fanned over your lips. It was still laced with bourbon. “You sure ‘bout that, darlin’ girl?” 

You tried to answer him in the steadiest voice that you could muster, but it was impossible for you to hide the effect this man had on you. 

You breathed out a shaky, “I’m sure.”

Lifting his uninjured hand, he reached up to tuck a loose lock of hair that had fallen out of your braids behind your ear. As his hand fell away, the palm of it grazed against the silkiness of your cheek. 

Though brief, the contact sent an electric current through each and every last single nerve ending in your entire body. 

Exhaling sharply, your eyelids fluttered closed. You nearly whimpered out his name. “Joel?”

“What is it, babygirl? What do you want?”

“I—I want you to kiss me.” 

Joel leaned in even closer, stopping only when his mouth was less than an inch away from yours. 

You heard him chuckle softly. 

“Y’know, I’d expect better manners from a good girl like you,” he tsked lightly, his nose skimming near the corner of your mouth. Closer. “What’s the magic word, little dove?”

“Please.”

“S’much better.”

Your heart pounded with anticipation.

It was almost too much for you to handle. 

Joel closed the remaining gap of space, capturing your lips with his own. He remembered his brother talking about you at the bar—how he had told Joel that you had never even held a man’s hand before.

It occurred to him that he was giving you your first kiss. Him. Joel Miller. The town’s resident asshole and a man who was well over twice your own age. He was the one giving you your very first kiss. 

The guilt suddenly started to creep in, sinking into his bones.

What the fuck had he been thinking? 

And what about you? 

Where the fuck had your common sense gone?

Probably ran off together with Joel’s.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling away slightly in an attempt to stop it from going any further. He tried again, mumbling against your lips, “We gotta stop. This ain’t right—”

You were having none of it. 

None. 

Clutching fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt, you swung your leg over his thighs and straddled his lap. Your knees rested on either side of him on the bench. 

“Please,” you nearly pleaded. “Just kiss me. I want it—I want this. I promise you that I do.” You placed both of your hands on his broad shoulders, sliding them around him as you slowly sank down further onto his lap. “I want this, Joel.”

Suddenly, he realized that you were asking him for more than just his kiss. 

Now he knew for sure that all common sense had left that pretty little head of yours. 

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

Desperate, you uttered one final, “Please.”

Joel bit back a groan. How could he deny you? 

He couldn’t. Simple as that. 

“You sure ‘bout this?”

Your fingers toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“C’mere then, darlin’ girl.”

Joel cupped the side of your face in his large palm and tilted his head up towards yours. Your mouths fused together and although he tried to be gentle, it was proving to be much too difficult—how could he be gentle when you were practically clinging to him? Holding onto him with fervor as if you’d been holding onto dear fucking life itself? 

Temperatures rising, you quickly shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with a soft thud before wrapping your arms around him once again. You melted against him as your mouth molded to his in a perfect fit. 

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore the cavern even further. 

Eagerly, your lips parted, granting him access. His tongue slipped past them, meeting yours in a slow and sensual heated dance. 

You breathed him deeply into your lungs, a little moan vibrating at the back of your throat. 

Joel’s hands went to your waist and he yanked the hem of your blouse free from your skirt. 

“Can I feel you, baby?” he asked, breathlessly. His mouth abandoned yours and he began to trail hot, open mouthed kisses underneath your jawline. 

Dazed, all you could do was nod in reply and utter, “Mhm.”

Joel’s hands slipped under your blouse and he slid them up the length of your sides. “Fuck, you gotta be the softest fuckin’ thing,” he cursed against the delicate, tender flesh of your neck. His lips latched onto your pulse point, suckling at the skin there as his fingertips dug into your hips. He needed to feel more, but he forced himself to wait. The last thing he wanted to do was make a wrong move or move too fast and scare you off.

“Joel,” you mewled his name. “Joel, I need—”

You trailed off, moaning when his mouth released your skin with a loud, wet popping noise. 

“Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you,” he promised. “Anythin’ you need or want, I’ll give it to you. Just say the fuckin’ word.”

“You, Joel. I need you.”

His hips involuntarily bucked upwards and you let out a startled gasp the moment you felt his bulge, hard as a rock, brush against your clothed cunt. 

Tearing away from him, it suddenly hit you. You’re in a church, straddling a much, much older man in a pew—and if that wasn’t sinful enough, the warm and slick arousal pooling between your thighs only proved that you were ready to fall into temptation, give into the lust and give your body to Joel. But it was none of those things that worried you. It was something else. 

You pulled yourself out of his arms and jumped up off his lap, nearly tripping over your own two feet.

“Darlin’ are you—?”

You didn’t even hear the rest of his question.

Knees trembling, you somehow managed to make your way up to the altar. Heart pounding and head spinning, you planted both of your hands firmly on the table and steadied yourself. Part of you hoped that Joel would just get up and leave. But a bigger part of you hoped he wouldn’t. 

Joel rose to his feet. “Listen, ain’t nothin’ wrong if you changed your mind, alright?”

“I didn’t,” you choked out. “That’s—that’s not it at all.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

Embarrassed, you tried to explain yourself. “I have never done anything like this before. I’m a—”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word out loud. 

“You’re a what?”

Blazing heat flooded your face. “Joel, please don’t make me say it,” you groaned. “For the sake of my sanity, don’t make me say it.” You heard the sound of his brown leather boots as he walked up behind you, one heavy footstep after the other.

“Turn around, sweet girl.” 

Joel’s command was firm but still gentle. 

Swallowing dryly, you obeyed and did as you were told. He stood close and you found yourself at eye level with his chest. 

“Look at me.”

You tried, but couldn’t. 

“I said, look at me.” Joel gingerly took your chin in between his thumb and index finger. He lifted your face, forcing your gaze to meet his own, timid and submissive meeting bold and dominant in a sweet and tender exchange. “Never known the lovin’ of a man, have you little dove?”

He backed you up against the table, pinning you in between it and himself. Planting both of his hands on either side of you, he caged you in and brought his chest flush against yours, pressing your bodies together.

Close, but somehow not close enough.

Joel lifted his hand to your cheek, cradling it in his palm. His thumb swept over your quivering bottom lip.

You reached behind you, clutching at the fair linen as you tried with every fiber of your entire being to remind yourself that you were standing at the altar where your father preached and delivered all of his sermons to the faithful people of Jackson. 

The very same altar where your father encouraged you to kneel and pray in effort to mend the broken relationship you had with God. 

You couldn’t help but to think if you were to get on your knees tonight, it wouldn’t be for prayer.

“I asked you a question, darlin’.” Joel’s voice broke into your train of thought. “Need you to be a good girl and give me an answer, alright?”

“My father loves me,” you stammered out in reply. “He loves me and my sisters—”

“C’mon, babygirl.” He chuckled and shook his head at you, lightly pinching your cheek. “That ain’t what I mean and you damn well know it.”

Sighing softly, you finally answered, “No, Joel.”

“No, what?”

“No, I’ve never known the loving of a man.”

Joel slipped the tip of his thumb between your lips and leaned into you, his hardness pressing against your upper thigh. Even through all the clothes, you could feel every inch of him. “Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? What it feels like when a man makes you his own?” 

You nearly moaned around his finger. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he prompted, pulling his hand away.

“Yes, please.”

“I can show you.” Joel paused. “But not tonight.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Both of you were so clearly riled up and he was going to take a pass?

He almost laughed at your expression. 

“C’mon, don’t give me that face.”

“But Joel—”

“Just don’t wanna rush it, not with you,” Joel said in a tone so soft it nearly threw you for a loop. “M’gonna need you to be real patient for me, just for a little while, alright? You think you can do that, little dove? Think you can be patient for me?”

Your answer came without an ounce of hesitation.

“Of course,” you breathed.

You would wait an eternity for Joel Miller.

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 1

When your younger sister is tricked into selling herself to the Doll House, you rush there to help her, only to find her being led away by her trainer, Choso. Moved by your desire to save your sister, he convinces the owner to let you take her place.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Choso’s. I’m keeping the tag list from previous parts. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. FemDom. Sub Choso. Oral sex. Foot kissing. Divider by @benkeibear!

Your phone won’t stop buzzing. Even with the sound turned off, it’s making a racket in your bag, disturbing the important meeting you’re in. With a sigh, you slip it out to look at the Lock Screen. Your younger sister has sent you several messages. Wondering what kind of trouble she’s gotten herself into this time, you tap the latest message to open all of them. 

“Sis, I need your help! It’s an emergency!!!!”

“Yosaku is in trouble with his dad. He needs money right now or the old man’s gonna kill him!!”

“We’re at the Doll House. Yosaku says he’ll win big at the next race and buy out my contract.”

“Guess I’m a doll now! Why won’t you answer me?! This is important!!!”

“The owner went to find a trainer for me. God, I hope I don’t get the BDSM guy!”

“Sis, I’m scared!!! Yosaku left and I don’t think he’s coming back!”

You clench the phone in your hand so hard, you almost break it. 

“Fucking Yosaku!” you shout, then notice the dozen pairs of eyes that all immediately shift to you. You’re so enraged that you forgot you’re in a meeting. You apologize and excuse yourself, quickly leaving the office building where you work and heading toward the Doll House.

Your sister has been dating the son of a small time Yakuza boss for a little over six months now, and the two bit wannabe gangster has already ruined her life. 

Before meeting Yosaku, your sister was always so sweet and never got into trouble. Despite only being four years older than her, you practically raised her. She’s the only family you have, and as such, you’re fiercely protective of her. 

So when she introduced you to Yosaku, six years her senior, good looking in a “bad boy” sort of way, and with a terrible personality, you knew he was bad news. The fact that they started dating almost immediately after she turned eighteen was a big red flag. It’s like he was waiting for her, like a vulture. 

She started getting into trouble within two weeks of meeting him. She got caught shoplifting items he instructed her to take (and he of course fled the scene when she was spotted). He got mad and ditched her in a dangerous part of town one night. He talked her into gambling away all her money. And a whole list of other things. Each time, you had to go and rescue her.  And each time, you begged her to dump him before he got her into real, serious trouble. 

Now she’s at the Doll House? Unbelievable! How could he convince her to give up ten years of her life for him?! You can only hope you make it there in time to stop the sale. 

When you barge in the front door, past a front desk with a startled receptionist, and into a large circular room, you find your sister. She’s being led away by a pale man with a strange hairstyle, and she looks like a deer in the headlights. 

“Stop!” you scream, rushing forward and ripping your sister’s arm out of the man’s hand. “Don’t touch my sister, you pervert!”

You don’t know a whole lot about the Doll system or the Doll House, but everyone knows the basics. The men here train women to be sex toys, usually with some bizarre fetish. A friend once told you a guy here makes his dolls crawl on the ground like a dog while wearing a butt plug. Unimaginable! 

The man looks at you, seeming confused. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not anyone suspicious. I’m just her trainer.”

You place yourself in front of your sister, blocking his view of her. “You think I’m gonna let you train her to do depraved��� sex stuff? I won’t let you hurt her!”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” he says, looking a little hurt himself that you would suggest such a thing. “My job is to prepare her to be a doll. I’m helping her.”

He seems so honest, but you can’t let yourself be fooled. “I don’t care what your job is. You can’t have my sister! Look at her, she’s just eighteen! She’s practically a baby! She’s still a virgin! You can’t turn her into-“

“Actually, sis, I’m not a virgin,” you hear your sister say behind you, making you wince. You assumed so, but it sucks to have it confirmed. Fucking Yosaku. 

You look at her over your shoulder. “That’s not important right now.” Then you turn back to the man. “Please, don’t take her. She’s the only family I have. She has her whole life ahead of her.”

The trainer’s face softens slightly, as if he feels bad for you. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but she already signed the contract. There’s nothing I can do.”

“But there has to be some way out of this! Her lowlife boyfriend coerced her!”

“What’s going on in here?” a voice asks. 

All of you look over to see a silver haired woman standing just inside the room. She’s holding a silk fan in one hand, the breathless receptionist standing beside her. 

“Who are you?” you ask her. 

She flips a long braid over her shoulder. “I’m the owner of this establishment. And if you’re here to stop a sale, you’re too late. Unless you want to pay some rather punishing fees for breaking the contract.”

You narrow your eyes. “Just how much are these fees?”

The owner snaps her fingers, and the receptionist scurries to grab a pen and paper. The owner writes something on it and the receptionist presents it to you. She wasn’t kidding when she said they were punishing! You’d never be able to pay this back! Even with your pretty good job. Your sister’s credit would be ruined forever. And you’d have to work yourself to the bone and you’d probably still lose everything. 

Your mind races. Think! Think! There has to be a way out of this! An idea pops into your mind. A terrible one, but it’s the only one you have at the moment. 

“What if I take her place?” you ask. 

Your sister steps out from behind you to look you in the face. “Sis, no, this is my-“

“Just be quiet,” you hiss, using the sort of tone you took while caring for her as a child. The “angry mother” tone, she called it. She falls silent. 

The owner looks you up and down. “I don’t know… We’ve never done something like that before.”

You get down on your knees, looking up at the owner with a pleading expression. “Please! My sister is young and naive. She can’t handle life as a doll. But I can! As the older sister, it’s my responsibility to protect her!”

Beside the owner, the trainer’s eyes widen. Then, suddenly, he moves over and gets down to his knees right next to you, bowing his head low. 

“I’m asking as well,” he says to the owner, shocking you. “Out of respect for her wanting to protect her sister, could you let them trade places? The older sister would be more suited to my training anyway.”

The owner looks slightly flustered to be met with such old fashioned, formal pleas. But she sighs and says, “Alright, I’ll go get the paperwork fixed up.”

As she walks away, the trainer stands up, then offers you his hand. Still somewhat in shock, you take it and let him help you up. 

“Thanks,” you tell him. “But why did you help me?”

He gives you a subtle smile. “I understand wanting to protect a younger sibling. I have a little brother I would do anything for.”

Wow, he’s actually pretty cute… for a sex crazed pervert. It just now occurs to you that he’s going to be your trainer now. This cute guy is going to be doing all sorts of depraved things to you! 

Your sister hugs you suddenly, her face wet with tears. “You didn’t have to do that! This was my problem!”

You pull away from her and stroke her hair. “Yes, I did have to do this. Just promise me one thing: that you’ll stay away from Yosaku. He’s dangerous! The next time he gets you into trouble, I won’t be there to help. Don’t make what I’m doing be for nothing.”

Your sister nods. “I promise! I’m all done with him!”

After reading over and signing all the paperwork, you and your sister say your goodbyes. Then you turn to your trainer and say. “Well, I’m all yours.”

He reaches out and gently takes your hand, then leads you down a hallway. He actually seems… sweet? You can’t imagine him doing perverted things to you. But he is a trainer here. Sooner or later, this man is going to have sex with you. You’re not some blushing virgin, but the thought still makes you a little embarrassed. 

Once inside his room, he shuts the door behind the two of you. His room looks surprisingly neat, clean, and comfortable. No crazy props or weird toys hanging on the walls. Thank goodness. 

“Feel free to sit down,” he says, gesturing toward a pair of chairs on either side of a small table. 

You walk over and take a seat, watching him a bit warily. You still don’t know what kind of fetish he specializes in. 

“I’ll tell you about my training,” he says, as if he can read your mind. You sit up straight in the chair to listen as he goes on. “I train women to be Doms. Dominant. I will call you Mistress. My name is Choso but you can call me whatever you like. I will do anything you tell me to. For the next six weeks, I belong to you. Oh, before you ask, I can’t get you out of the contract. That’s up to the owner, not me.”

Wait. What? He’s training you to be a Dom? You’ve heard the term before, but it conjures up an image of a woman in a black leather corset, cracking a whip. You’re supposed to do that stuff with him? 

“So, you’ll do anything I ask?”

He nods. “As long as it doesn’t violate any of the house rules, and is within my power.”

That doesn’t sound so bad. But you’re not naive. You know this is supposed to lead to things of a sexual nature. This is the Doll House after all. But at least you’ll probably get to do things at your own pace. You feel yourself relaxing slightly. 

“Can you get me a cup of coffee?” you ask, curious to see how he responds. 

“Of course, Mistress. How would you like it?”

“Hot. Heavy on the cream, no sugar.”

He gives you a small bow of his head. “Right away, Mistress.”

You watch him leave the room, then exhale deeply. Why does any doll trained by him ever do any of the sex stuff? Why not just make him rub your feet and bring you snacks for six weeks? You suppose that would defeat the purpose of being trained. What was it he called it? Preparing you to be a doll? Whoever your owner ends up being, he’s definitely going to expect some sex stuff. 

But do you have to initiate it? Command Choso to sleep with you? You can’t imagine doing that. 

He walks back in with a steaming cup and reaches it to you as if he’s a butler. You glance up at him, and you think he’d look really good in a butler uniform. 

You noticed it before, but he’s really cute. He’s like a quiet goth guy without the piercings. His hair is styled into two short ponytails, one on either side of his head. It’s not a style you’ve seen before, but it looks good on him. His clothes are a bit baggy, making you curious about what’s under them. 

The coffee is delicious, and Choso watches you drink it silently. After you sit the cup down, he asks, “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

You think for a moment. “You’ll do anything? Even if it’s something embarrassing or demeaning?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

You frown. “I don’t know. It seems wrong to force you to do things.”

A gentle smile appears on his face. “If you’re concerned about consent, please don’t worry. I work here voluntarily because I like doing stuff like this. I’m happy to do anything you want. No matter what it is.”

There’s an eagerness in his voice that makes your heart beat fast. You take a deep breath and say, “Kiss my foot!”

You really just want to test whether he’ll actually do anything you say or not, and this seems like a relatively tame command. Actually it’s not sexual at all. 

Or so you think, until Choso gracefully drops to his knees in front of you and, oh so gently, removes your high heeled shoe from your right foot. Then his hands move to your thigh, sliding just under your skirt. You start to yell at him, but then you realize he’s pulling your stocking down, slowly sliding it down your leg and off your foot. 

His eyes lock onto yours as he carefully lifts your foot up in his hand, holding it up close to his face. He licks his lips, then presses them softly to the top of your foot as his hand caresses your ankle. 

Oh wow. Okay, you kind of get how this all turns sexual. Choso on his knees in front of you, so eager to please, is doing things to you. 

He stands back up, the tiniest hint of a grin on his pale face. He knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t be a very good trainer if he didn’t. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do, Mistress?”

Your heart is racing. You feel your face heating up. Fuck, did he just seduce you with a single kiss to your foot? You cough awkwardly and look away from his pretty face. 

“I’m not sure what else to make you do,” you say, then quickly add, “What would you do if I told you to strip?”

He instantly begins pulling his loose fitting shirt over his head. 

“Wait! I wasn’t serious! I was just messing around!” you yell, but his shirt is already off, dangling from his hand. Your eyes drink in his well defined torso, surprised by how toned he is. A cute face and a hot body? Plus he’s sweet and gentle? Is this guy the total package or what? 

You shake your head. You can’t let yourself fall for him. He’s your trainer. He’s done this same stuff, and much more, with lots of other women. And besides, in six weeks you’ll belong to someone else. You just hope whoever that is has half of Choso’s charm. 

“I’m sorry, Mistress, I thought you wanted me to undress,” he says, pulling his shirt back on. Why does he sound a little disappointed? 

Now you really want to see what he’s packing beneath those baggy pants, but you can’t bring yourself to command him to show you. Not so soon after meeting him anyway. 

“It’s my fault,” you tell him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He smiles at you. It’s a very warm expression. “Please don’t worry about it, Mistress. I’m here to please you.”

*************************

Choso watches his new doll as she stands up and looks around the room. This will be her room for the next six weeks, so it’s good for her to familiarize herself with it. 

“Can I go get some of my things from home?” she asks. 

“Yes. You can leave the house so long as you come back by nightfall. That’s one of the house rules. If you go out at night, I have to go with you.”

She looks at her watch. “I guess I’ll just go tomorrow,” she says. “So what do we do for dinner?”

“There’s a dining hall where we all usually eat our meals,” he tells her, then goes on to explain what times meals are served and tells her about the small shared kitchen. He goes over some more house rules and also warns her that the other trainers all have their own styles, so she shouldn’t be surprised to see naked dolls or dolls in strange outfits.

She seems to be taking it all in fairly well. 

For dinner, she opts to stay in his room while he fetches plates, saying she isn’t quite ready to meet everyone else. She also tells him to eat at the small table in his room with her. Some dolls, perhaps angry about being dolls in the first place, order him to sit on the floor and eat. It doesn’t bother Choso, but he does think his new doll seems nice so far. 

“So you have a little brother?” she asks over dinner. 

He looks up from his plate, somewhat surprised. Some dolls ask a few basic questions at first, just to get to know him a little, but this one managed to get straight to his favorite topic. He smiles and says, “Yes. His name is Yuji.”

Her face looks kind, pretty, as she asks, “How old is he?”

“Nine,” he answers. “He’s a very energetic child, but he’s very sweet.”

She’s smiling, perhaps thinking of her sister. “He sounds adorable. Do you get to spend much time with him?”

Choso lowers his eyes to his food. “Not as much as I like. We only share one parent, and both of his have died. He lives with his grandfather now. I visit him as much as I can, and he visits me here occasionally. Oh, don’t worry, he doesn’t understand what I do here.”

They talk for a while longer, Choso eventually getting his phone and showing her pictures of Yuji. And he almost forgets, for a few moments, that she’s a doll and he’s her trainer. For those few moments, they’re just two older siblings smiling and talking. 

When night falls, Choso goes to take a shower. When he steps out, dressed in cozy sweats with his wet hair grazing his shoulders, his doll looks at him strangely. 

“Is something wrong?” he asks her, drying his hair with a towel. 

She blinks then averts her eyes. “No, nothing’s wrong,” she says, looking a little embarrassed before adding, “You look nice with your hair down.”

His doll decides to sleep in her clothes tonight, refusing his offer to wear something of his. And when it’s time to go to bed, he asks, “Where would you like me to sleep, Mistress?”

She wears a puzzled expression. “Uh, the bed?”

“Most dolls tell me not to sleep in the bed with them on the first night. I suppose they’re nervous, me being a stranger to them.”

She shrugs. “It’s your bed. It wouldn’t be right to force you out of it. Just don’t touch me and it’ll be fine.”

He stares at her. “You trust me already?”

She smiles as she climbs into his bed, staying on one side. “I think anyone who loves his little brother as much as you love Yuji can’t be a bad person.”

Choso feels his heart skip a beat, but he keeps his face neutral as he gets into bed, keeping a respectful distance from his doll. 

**********************

Two days later, you find yourself sitting in a chair in Choso’s room. He’s standing nearby, waiting for you to tell him to do something. These past couple of days, you’ve had him give you foot rubs, massage your shoulders, and brush your hair. All things pointedly not sexual. But in every case, Choso has made innocent actions seem incredibly sensual. 

The way his hands touch you, the way his eyes look at you with desire, they make you want to order him to fuck you right now. But you can’t do that. You’ve been trying to think of a way to make the orders you give him more sexy, but it’s difficult for you to just tell a man you barely know to start doing sexy things to you. 

You thought he was supposed to teach you how to be a Dom, but when you said that, he replied with, “It’s much better to just learn by experiencing things. So please tell me what you want me to do.”

Which was no help at all. You’re starting to think Choso isn’t a very good teacher. 

If he would just tell you what he wants, what he’d like for you to order him to do, this would be far less awkward! 

Wait. That might work!

“Choso,” you say, and he seems to perk up a bit at the sound of his name. “If you could pick one thing for me to tell you to do, what would it be?”

He smiles mildly. “I’d love to do anything you tell me to do, Mistress.”

“No. Give me a real, honest answer. This is an order from your Mistress. What would you most want to be ordered to do right now?”

He looks at you for a moment, then his eyes seem to get darker, a very slight pink flush to his cheeks. “What I’d most like to be ordered to do,” he says, keeping eye contact with you, “is to pleasure you with my mouth. To get on my knees in front of you while you spread your legs and stand over me, to taste you, to use my tongue to make you cum, over and over, until your legs give out.”

Oh shit. Are you seriously already wet just from hearing him talk about eating you out? There’s a hunger in his eyes, and you feel heat creeping across your face, your breaths quickening. Just imagining his pretty face buried between your thighs is making you horny as hell. 

“Okay then,” you say, standing up and trying to keep your voice steady, trying to sound confident and in charge even though you feel like you’re about to melt into a puddle of goo, “do it. Pleasure me… with your mouth.”

The way his cute, pale face lights up! He drops to his knees on the spot, and slowly crawls over to you. When he reaches you, he puts his hands on your thighs and carefully slides your skirt down, looking you in the eyes as he does it. 

“Mistress, may I please remove your panties?” he asks. 

You feel like you can barely breathe as you nod and say, “Yes, you may.”

His gentle hands rub upwards, until they reach the top of your lace panties, and then he eases them down your legs, helping you to step out of them once they reach the floor. This leaves you standing in his room, naked from the waist down, while he kneels in front of you. 

“Mistress, can you spread your legs?”

You feel your face burning as you move your feet further apart, giving him an eye full of your dripping pussy. He looks at it, then at your face, then licks his lips as if he’s about to dig into a tasty meal. 

And boy does he dig in! He runs his tongue up your slit, collecting any juices he can, then uses his fingers to open your folds. He takes a moment to look at your most private place, then says, “You’re beautiful, Mistress,” before slowly licking your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, then his lips wrap around it, and you can almost hear him slurping at your wetness. 

You look down at his face, only the top half visible, and his eyes shift up to yours. They’re half lidded, looking at you through his long eyelashes. 

As he makes out with your pussy, licking and kissing it so sweetly, taking his time, your legs begin to tremble. The pleasure is simply too much. You’ve been eaten out before, but never like this, never as if your clit is the most delicious thing on earth. 

“Ahh… Choso… I can’t…”

He pauses and glances up. “Are you alright, Mistress?”

“Y-yes, just… don’t stop, even if I tell you to. Not until I collapse,” you say, feeling slightly delirious. Did you really just say that?

“Of course, Mistress,” he says, then returns to devouring you. 

Your hands move to his head, and you find yourself pulling the ponytails free and letting his hair loose. Then you’re gripping it, hopefully not hard enough to hurt. You hear him utter a quiet moan, and the vibration of his voice against your clit as his lips suckle it gently sends you over the edge. 

You cry out, your hands tightening in his hair, your legs shaking and nearly giving way right then and there. His hands move around to your thighs and ass, holding you steady while his tongue laps up any fluids that leak out. You’re quivering, your clit extra sensitive and swollen after your orgasm, and that’s when his wet tongue glides over it again, pushing the hood even further back. 

“W-wait! Oh God… oh fuck!”

Your body jerks, your legs turning into spaghetti as another orgasm hits you within minutes of the first. Choso’s grip on your body is firm, keeping you from crumbling. His lips and tongue are still working at your clit, moving at a faster pace now, making you shudder and moan. 

“Choso… I can’t stand it… feels too good… I can’t…. I can’t…”

His mouth is relentless, pushing you right back to the edge. You know you must be pulling his hair too hard, but you have to grip something or you’ll fall apart. Then, you feel his teeth lightly scrape over your sensitive, overstimulated bud, and you inhale sharply, nearly choking on the air as you cum for the third time. 

It feels like your body is dissolving as all strength leaves you. Choso catches you in his arms and eases you down to the carpeted floor, cradling you. 

“Are you alright, Mistress?” he asks, his lips glistening with your juices. 

You’re still twitching, clutching his arms as you ride out the aftershocks of the three most intense orgasms of your life. You can’t speak, so you just nod to answer him. 

He holds you until you’re able to stand up with his help, then he helps you clean up before tucking you into bed. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he says, and you nod as he goes into the bathroom. You didn’t mention it, but when he was holding you on the floor, your upper half in his lap, you felt a rather impressive erection through his loose pants. You thought about doing something about it, but your mind was a little too hazy at that point. Oh well, you’re certain you’ll get plenty of chances to pleasure him as well. 

You never imagined being a doll before all this, and you’re still angry that things turned out this way, but at least you have Choso as your trainer. You don’t know how things will turn out, who will end up owning you, but at least for now, the situation isn’t too bad. So you fall asleep to the sound of the water running in the shower, knowing Choso will be sleeping beside you again tonight.

Tag List:

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[queenofmalkier]

Moiraine being 70 vs 40

(Alright this one took me a minute because corralling my thoughts is a challenge in the best of times.)

To begin with I will admit... I am one of the people who was indifferent towards the age change in the beginning. They're Aes Sedai, they live nice, long lives, and I wasn't like, emotionally attached to a younger, canon-aged Moiraine. It does make her early years more poignant, but I'll touch on that later.

Primed for older Moiraine, the show started and after two seasons I can safely say I am so gung-ho for 70 year old Moiraine I might actually be feral.

Here's why I, personally, think it was an excellent choice: Rosamund Pike is 44 as of writing this, so she visibly fits into the book age. As an audience nobody is really questioning her age - a few show-onlys I watched season 1 with actually remarked on how refreshing it was to see an older female character allowed to just exist and be part of the narrative without trying to sex up and/or grandma-ize the role.

Little Did They Know.

So you've got an audience that's mostly accepting of this character being in her 40s, and then you hit them with "Oh she's 70 and lets explore just how horrific that fact actually is together, it'll be fun!"

It was not fun, it was gutting.

One of my main critiques of the book has always been how we have these long-lived women, powerful women... but we never really take much of a look at the reality of that concept. Nor are we given POV characters who are really old enough to remark on it. Pevara at least thinks about her family, but Cadsuane doesn't give two figs about hers.

And here's the thing... they're Aes Sedai, but they're still human. What happens to them as they get older, but the people who fill their life are the ones aging? How does it feel to watch a mother, a sister, a child, friends, acquaintances, EVERYONE succumb to time in a way you won't for a very long time after?

That has to be impactful and I wanted to see those stories - and the show delivered. Seeing Moiraine with Anvaere? Chilling, horrifying, heartbreaking. Liandrin and her boy? A kick in the teeth. Even Alanna with her family, knowing very well she's probably the oldest one sitting at that table.

The point is, being an Aes Sedai means being powerful and respected, but it also means living through a very specific kind of suffering and trauma. They're basically vampires in terms of lifespan and we should see how that shapes them.

In regards to Moiraine being older and therefore not basically a child during the foretelling, it does change that particular hit... but by no means did the show let the viewers not understand how that moment altered Moiraine's life forever.

Instead of her being sort of an unformed girl hardened and honed by a lifetime of searching for Rand, one who never got much chance to be anything else, we get a woman who was already beginning to build her life, who had achieved the shawl, found love, and was exactly where she wanted to be.

And then all of that is taken from her.

It's devastating to watch the double-barreled whammy of Siuan and Moiraine giggling about being fishwives and walking into what was in many ways their deaths. Because the Moiraine and Siuan they were before walking into that room were gone forever. They would never be able to go back to the women they were before. They never even had a chance to mourn that loss. Moiraine went hunting and Siuan set her sights on the Amyrlin Seat.

I do understand for a lot of people her age is a sticking point, and that is completely fair and valid! It's a change that I fully agree did not need to be made... but by making that change we're given such a stark insight into the lives of older Aes Sedai who are just beginning to experience what it means to outlive everyone they know, watching one by one as cherished friends and family members pass on.

Soon all they have left are the children and grandchildren of those people, fractured mirrors that are just enough of a hint at the original that it must be painful to know them - which explains even further why so many Aes Sedai cut off contact entirely with their families. It's too painful to keep them in their lives.

[bluegekk0]

fav art pieces of each character?

Ooooh this is a good question. I'll start with the ones I haven't drawn as much since that's going to be easy. Long post ahead.

Hornet first:

I think I like how she turned out on this birthday drawing the most. Maybe it's because it's one of the rare instance of her smiling. She does look a lot more like Vyrm when she does.

Holly next:

It's gotta be this one. It is slightly outdated since I changed the design on their legs but I really like this drawing regardless. They look really good in that casual cloak too, I was actually considering making that their main outfit for a while

Zote:

It's pretty old but I like how he looks on this ref sheet image. It captures that Rocket Raccoon & Groot dynamic I always envisioned for these two, and I like Zote's expression.

Now for the kids, this is where it becomes harder.

Lewk:

It has to be this one. I mean, just look at him. My favorite detail is the drawing he's making, I wanted to make it look like it's meant to be Dirtmouth, with the tiny houses and mountains in the background. And I love how his long back fur looks here, like a big mane of sorts.

Asta:

This one from the birthday drawing. I love her expression here and just the general pose she's in, I'm really proud of it. She really looks like a little kitten here and it melts my heart

Milo:

I really like this one. He looks so tired and grumpy, and unimpressed with his sister's antics. I think his skinny body really comes through with this one, and I love how his little "mane" turned out.

Okay, now for the hardest part. It's going to be impossible to choose just one, so is it okay if I pick my favorite three? I think it's okay. There's so much art of these two after all it only makes sense.

Vyrm:

I'm going to go with these three. The top one I'm super proud of, his expression, the arm and all the details around him. The second one isn't surprising, I've been using it as my profile picture for a long time now, I'm so happy with how squishy Vyrm looks there. And the last one may actually be a bit of a surprise, especially considering it was kind of a vent piece, but I think he generally just turned out so well there. It was a drawing that really helped me figure out how to modify how I draw his torso to make it look better. My favorite detail is the dried tear marks, they really add to that exhausted look.

And last but not least, Grimm:

It was hard to choose, but I'm really happy with these three. First one I'm just proud of he generally turned out, I like the expression I gave him, and as silly as it may sound, I think his butt and tail ended up looking really nice hahah. The second one is, well. It was a really self-indulgent one. Top one may be a bit suggestive but I think it might actually be my favorite of the two, though I'm really happy with the bottom one as well. And the last one, funnily enough, is a similar situation to the last one I picked for Vyrm. A vent-ish piece that is a lot less upbeat than most of my art, but man, I'm so happy with it to this day.

Honorable mention for both of them is this one. It is a bit outdated in some aspects so that drags it down a little bit for me, but aside from that it's one of my favorite pieces in general. Might have been the first one to start the trend of using brighter (usually yellow) backgrounds but I'm very happy that I did. I think this piece in particular just radiates with such a positive, comforting energy that I might just go back and touch it up a little bit to bring their designs more up to date, I think it would really benefit from that (I'm considering doing that with a lot of my older favorites, I really like having things be more consistent haha)

Anyway, this was a lot of fun, thank you so much for asking!

[babydollmarauders]

IF ONLY TO SAY YOU’RE MINE — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem! edwards! reader

FAITHLYNN’S 500 CELLY!

🌷: "Is there a reason you're blushing like that?" & “i think I'm in love with you." with Luke.

notes: i listened to Sofia by Clairo on repeat while writing this ngl

“alright, there are rules.” Ethan tells me.

finally getting the chance to visit my older brother and see him play hockey with his school team is the most exciting part of my year. with Ethan being only a year older than me, we’ve always been close, so being so far away from each other for most of the year sucks.

“rules?” i question, turning my head to look at him rather than out the car window. we’re currently on our way to sophomore house after he picked me up from the airport.

“rules.” he confirms. “number one: you’re not stealing one of my jerseys to wear to the game, so i hope you brought your own.”

“i did.” i give him a single harsh nod.

“good. number two: you are in a house of hockey players, meaning there’s bound to be a game playing on the tv every night. you must watch with us. it’s bonding time so no hiding in my room.” he says. his eyes flicker between me and the road as he speaks and i give him another nod.

“i think i can handle that.” i affirm.

“lastly, rule number three, arguably the most important rule-”

“get on with it, E.” i cut him off and he sends a quick glare towards me before speaking again.

“do. not. crush. on. my. friends.” he emphasizes each word but with this rule, i stay silent. i’ve already stalked his friends instagram accounts, and though they’re all cute, there’s one in particular who’s caught my eye.

“y/n, no.” Ethan whines as he pulls the car into his driveway.

“i can’t control who i find attractive, Ethan!” i argue.

“no! who? who is it?” he interrogates.

“Luke Hughes.” i mumble, unbuckling my seatbelt as he puts the car in park. my brother groans, throwing his head back.

“i guess he’s not the worst one you could’ve chosen.” he admits. sighing, he turns off the engine, unbuckling his seat and proceeding to exit the car. i swing my car door open and hop out, rounding the back of the car where Ethan is grabbing my duffel bag from the trunk. he hands me the bag, starting towards the front door, and i follow in his footsteps, trailing behind him.

as soon as Ethan opens the door, i’m met with loud shouts. Ethan walks towards the noise and i stay a few steps behind him until we reach the living room. four boys are sat on the couch, two playing video games as the other two shout out unhelpful tips, and i recognize them from my insta stalking as Mackie, Mark, Dylan, and Luke.

“guys, this is my sister, y/n.” Ethan voice cuts through the yelling and the room goes quiet, all four boys turning their heads to look at me.

“what’s up? i’m Mackie.” he sticks his hand out for me to shake and i politely do so, feeling awkward already in a house full of guys.

“hey, i’m Dylan.” i shake his hand as well and he gives me a kind smile, easing my nerves slightly.

“hi. i’m Mark.” he gives me a full grin and i smile back, shaking his hand. i look over to Luke, assuming he would introduce himself too, but he just looks back at me with parted lips and slightly wide eyes.

oh. do i look bad? the flight was long, maybe i look rough. this is embarrassing.

“i- uh- Luke.” he tells me, slipping his hand in mine to shake. his cheeks twinge pink and i blush in return.

“nice to meet you guys.” i say.

“yo, Luke.” Mark badly whispers. “is there a reason you're blushing like that?”

the three boys laugh but Luke only flushes darker, and my brother stares at him with an unamused expression.

“keep it in your pants, Hughes.” Ethan’s words are gruff, and he takes ahold of my elbow. “let’s go. i’ll show you to my room.”

*

it’s been two days since i arrived and in those days i’ve gotten inaugurated into the boys group. i’ve joked around with Mackie, Dylan, and Mark, i tagged along to hockey practice, and i joined the guys in watching the Tampa Bay Lightning game, where i learned Dylan was drafted.

though through all of that, Luke and i have still been pretty awkward around each other. we’ve talked of course, and sure, we’ve joked around a little, but it’s been in a different way than the rest of the guys.

i’m currently sat on the couch between Luke and Ethan, watching a Devils game. i started watching the Devils as soon as my brother was drafted by them, so i have no qualms about watching this game.

we all sit at the edge of our seats, watching as Luke’s brother, Jack, has the puck. but it’s three on one and because of that, he’s unable to make the shot on net. the guys groan and i huff.

“where the hell was the defense?! they practically just stood there and watched as he had to try and breakaway from three men! they need to get their shit together and start playing like an actual team.” i rant. i glance away from the tv to see the guys, besides Ethan, all staring at me in shock. “what?”

“i think i’m in love with you.” Luke exhales and i can immediately feel the heat rising in my face as Ethan reaches behind me, smacking Luke on the back of the head.

“w-what?”

“sorry, i- not like, in love, in love.” he clarifies. “you’re just like, my dream girl. you’re kind, you’re hot, you’re funny, you’re into hockey. you’re perfect.”

“ugh, this is disgusting. just kiss already and get it over with. i’ll cover my eyes.”

-

-

-

-

[creatingblackcharacters]

I was so glad to find your blog, because it’s given me the opportunity to find some awesome resources for my writing, but there was one thing in particular that I think I should send an ask about, so here goes:

I’m writing a story that focuses on teenagers trying to get revenge for different tragedies that they know we’re all caused by the same person. It has a pretty big cast, but there’s one character who I really feel like I need to talk about so I make sure I tell her story the right way. This character is a Black girl who sets out to find her missing younger sister, but there’s some details I’d really like to get peer reviewed first to make sure they aren’t offensive, or see if there’s anything I can do to make them better.

So, this character starts off as a “gifted kid,” kind of— she gets good grades, she plays an instrument, she has tons of friends, all the stuff parents want their kids to hav in school. Until she witnesses an incident that ends up scarring her, that is. (The incident is just a catalyst and not as important to this character, so I’m skipping the details. Someone died.) She suspects something’s going wrong in her town, and that people’s lives are in danger, but no one listens until it’s too late, and her little sister has gone missing. Now, here’s where things get to a point where I want to ask for help. The little sister was killed, and the older sister suspects that she could’ve been saved if the police paid more attention to her, and their ignorance when it came to the situation might’ve been rooted in racism. She develops a distrust of authority, including her own parents, and decides if no one else is going to destroy this evil, it might as well be her. The older sister then goes on a journey to try and solve the mystery for herself and ever silly come to terms with her sister’s death, all the while believing that she can’t go to the adults because they won’t take her seriously. Even if she’s a straight A student, even if they say she’s a bright kid, she worries it isn’t enough. Because when it matters most, they didn’t take her seriously. By the end of her arc in the story, the older sister has faced down the villain, accepted her sibling’s death and helped her spirit move on, while also making sure nothing like that will happen again— at least under those same circumstances. She comes clean to her parents about everything, and she actually has one of the best relationships with her family out of any other character in this story. But that’s pretty sensitive stuff. I feel like I can’t just wing it, I need to talk to people and see where I could go wrong, and where I could go right with this. I’ve noticed there aren’t a lot of stories where Black girls get to go on adventures and face down evil, so I wanted to try writing one myself, but I really want to do this character justice. If there are any tips you have for making this character authentic, any places where I should be particularly aware of the subject material, and any additional resources for writing horror with characters of color, I would love to hear them.

It all sounds interesting to me! But as always, the prompt versus the actual writing can always diverge. This is yet another situation where I'd find a Black sensitivity reader to follow along with your work so that you don't get sidetracked, especially with a topic as complex as misogynoir (there are people on my recent post who have volunteered!) I'm not sure if you read my latest lesson on horror, but there are resources there, plus lessons on stereotypes. I would also suggest finding those books and visual media with Black girl protagonists and watching them, studying how they are done and how the story is told. I'm sure there are lists on Google of media to start with.

[sm-baby]

Able strikes me as… the kind of person that does things right naturally. Like for the carnival AU, I bet in real life he was just good at everything without even trying. Everyone likes him, he’s just great in his own, I bet him and Caine even look similar, like the kind where the real only difference is maybe height, and style.

Caine is the younger brother that is jealous, he is extremely jealous even if he doesn’t want to be. He wants to be content with himself, but it is so damn hard with a sibling that even unintentionally looms over you. Getting mistaken for them at places, and when people meet you it’s always “Oh you’re Able’s brother” or “oh I hope you’ll be like him” and it’s a little flattering but mostly discouraging mentally. He wants to be like Able, but he knows he can’t.

Like a couple years back when my sister graduated a year early in high school, literally a cyber expert by the time she got out, and already years in on collage work, meanwhile I was your average struggling student, so even though she’s my favorite older sibling, we look similar, sound similar, hell, some people have mistaken me for her but with shorter hair. I know that having someone loom over you like that, someone everyone likes, everyone loves, and is just better in every way, it makes you go to the darkest places at times.

And that’s just me— from what you’ve said of Caine’s family, they just seem toxic. Caine if five times better than me and even my older sister who’s amazing, he knows so many languages and is so awesome in general, yet his parents have the nerve to do his. Sometimes I feel like I’m in a fucked up yin-yang sibling story, so I can really sort of relate to what u assume Caine is going through. It’s hard when you have similar interests, looks, and so much more with someone, yet everyone just loves them, and not you, and you have no clue why. And you want to be proud, you are proud, you’re happy, but some part of you deep inside just wishes you didn’t exist, or that the person you’re always compared to didn’t exist, so then no one would be able to compare you. Sometimes it’s obvious, people saying the differences, other times it’s fully a mental thing, I never was compared to my older sister by parents, but it’s a like a part of me knew that I was insignificant.

If it’s anything like the personal relationship I have with this person in my life, Caine and Able are close, but there are moments where it just bubbles through, the destain and/or harsh thoughts finally get to the surface of the water. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was an argument because Caine snapped at Able and started talking about how damn great Able is to everyone. My older sibling seems a bit like Able, and she never was forced into being perfect, it’s just natural for them. It’s a rocky relationship, when you know you love that person, that sibling means the world to you, but there’s that envy in part of you. I would sort of like it if this is expanded on more, maybe just a bit because I find it somewhat personal, you don’t have to, but I think it would be interesting if this was specifically shown somewhere. Siblings relationships are tough, but I personally know that… this particular style, the kind of sibling relationship I have with that one older sibling and the relationship Caine and Able have, is extremely hard. Because it never goes away, that spite and the small bit of hatred, but you just have to live with it, you blame yourself for your shortcomings, it never leaves, but you still stay close. They’re still your favorite person, still someone that you feel like you can share everything with, and you learn that you can’t get over those bad feeling, they just exist.

…I really need to stop writing when I’m half asleep. Might continue on how Carnival Pomni is similar to me, next time I’m half asleep and typing/j

*pat pat* it will definitely be touched upon... Im too proud of Caine's writing to leave him in the dark... Im so happy you relate to him that way, and Im sorry to hear how rocky your relationship is with your sister. Best of luck to both of you <3

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

(okay so this is actually a couple months ago but i was writing something and i was oh - this kind of sounds familiar to something ive written somewhere. its a draft so forgive me for jumping around hehe

ive seen the resurgence of this topic and it really hints at the differences between the way the pro/anti sides read this books.

this argument is a much older one - and the orginal argument was that sjm undervalues feminine work, not 'feyre undervalues feminine work.' the framing is very important toward the argument being made; if we say that 'feyre undervalues female work/femininity' then we're looking at a very narrow focus. we are making a statement about her character, not the characterization and writing decisions that go into making the character. when we say that 'sjm undervalues feminine/house work' then we are making a much broader statement. because then we are making a criticism toward the writing decisions, not character decisions. the reason this is important, in particular, is because often the story struggles with distinguishing sjm's voice from feyre - hence why we are often told things, and shown another.

the important takeaway from this argument is that sjm often chooses not to show or elaborate on the 'feminine' coded things; that in the books thereafter - there are two black-coded women in the background doing alll of the housework, and another older black-coded woman doing all of the medical work. and another black-coded woman in the spring court doing alllll household of the work. its that even though the 'laziness' of the sisters was a focal point in their relationship fracture, the story never actually acknowledges these things - or that even feyre did them. the focus is always on the hunting. its that the book assigns these task to black women and never talks about it again. that feyre was able to assume this fatherly role (hunting) is what the story argues is the sacrifice. bc the story is adamant about the women not falling into the 'party-planner' 'lady' 'baby-making' role. why be 'just a mother' when you can be a highlady fire wielding, death-beating, seer, goddess warrior. being 'just a mother' isn't enough. being 'just a party planner' isn't enough women who occupy that 'just a mother role' are often women who are violently killed off and unnamed, victims of hyperviolence, or characterized as vapid (rhys and tamlin mother, lyria, sorsha, marion, loa, cassian's mom, az's mom, mother archeron, dorian's mother, ember - who occupies both roles imo). there is an unwritten, negative consequence associated with being 'just a mother' -- and its not until sjm herself becomes a mother that we even see semi-positive representations of motherhood (yrene, embe, feyre; and even in this case - feyre still falls into the catergory above). in short - the narrative works against sjm newfound appreciation of motherhood and it's also demonized as femine-coded work that isn't considered valid.

instead of actually holding the sisters accountable for ‘not doing enough’ the narrative just assigns the task to invisible women and moves on from the discussion. and this segues into a wider discussion of representation and white feminism; how it’s okay to always place black/brown-coded women in invisible positions of servitude and service (madja, alis, nuala and cerridwen, nehemia, sorscha). think about this - the story essentially praises that feyre does all of this work and that she deserves to rest by....giving the work to these black handmaidens to do; ofc this argument is analytical and subjective (i.e. its my opinion), but i think there's always something so weird about framing the discussion around the fact that 'feyre deserves to rest,' instead of actually getting at the problem of having servants to begin with.

we get a moment where feyre sees her boots falling apart and instead of just taking nesta's boots (bc she was asking for another pair) or mending her own (feyre is just assumed to only have one pair). she kind of just throws herself a pity party. there’s like feyre doesn’t think like a survivalist, nor do her sisters even act realistically impoverished. even if nesta and elain where stereotypical mean girls they still would not act like that given how long they’ve been in that position. im sure nesta and elain know how to sew, so at the very least, they could’ve been mending clothes, making their own clothes and shoes. that is a ‘feminine’ coded task that could have easily been incorporated into the story to make their circumstance more believable. instead the emphasis is always put on the masculine coded activity: the hunting.

the reason the statement even comes up is because the story often disparages 'femininity' in the name of progression (i.e. this is why elain's character exists in a vacuum; she is praised for the same qualities she was vilified for). the 'progression' in this case is an approximation to masculinity. its why the sisters must go on a journey before settling into femininity and why the book essentially believes training is the answer for the illyrian women oppression. its what the book distinguished feyre away from her sister with. it’s that the story doesn’t acknowledge a decade, of at the very least, regular household tasks.

[variousqueerthings]

something i havent seen (im sure it's out there i just havent seen it) is that while a part of louis and claudia's relationship is of course very much framed by how claudia is constantly made to be in second place to louis' romantic partners (who are also not good to her or to louis) is the way that they're family, and it's complicated, but ultimately - i think - a positive family for one another, rather than the kind of family you leave and never speak to again if you can help it (that would be lestat...)

whether louis is father/mother/uncle/brother, he's not really "friend," (and vice versa, claudia as child/niece/sister) and so there's always going to be a specific dynamic that is complicated in the way the family you grow up with is complicated, and is even more complicated because using any of those words is technically incorrect and they fully had lives before they met, but for the sake of this particular read i think this fits closest. caretaker, perhaps

the point is - and it's not something i can make particularly coherently at the moment - related to how i feel about my siblings (esp my younger siblings) vs how i feel about other people in my life. my siblings simply are, whether or not we get on all the time, whether i feel sad or not that our lives have grown apart since adulthood, whether or not other people in their and my life take precedence during particular times (which can take many different forms -- for them more romantic, for me more community related, the language for where we're going in life just looks different than it did when we were kids)

when louis lets claudia down, but at the same time promises "you and me/me and you" those two things aren't paradoxical to one another, because there is a certain "taking for granted" that can happen -- claudia is always going to be there, just like louis assumes he will also simply be there, while at the same time having that jealousy and expectation that comes with his being older than her that she'll always depend on him to an extent (and she does, but he maybe doesn't take into account how much he depends on her, because being older/feeling like he has "the responsibility" while also suffering serious mental health issues... lotta mess he puts on her shoulders, as we can see)

when claudia joins the coven that takes away louis' feeling of being of use anymore, he doesn't define himself outside of claudia ("if there was no me...") -- and also outside of lestat/his romantic relationships but that's a different post -- and claudia is moving on, but look, armand is there, claudia's got what she wants, louis got something, and they're both still there (am also reminded of how when claudia comes back in s1, it's explicitly once she sees louis sobbing over his grave when his sister declares him dead)

the idea of claudia not being there terrifies louis, he experienced that loss twice in new orleans, once when she left and didn't come back for years, and once when lestat forced her back immediately, and then again the idea of it when she joins the coven (but then he pulls himself back from the edge of letting armand kill him when he fears for her life) and then in a big way when she goes with madeleine, and he knows they're better together than he could ever be for her, but she's still his in that sibling/parent/caretaker feeling kind of way, and this is a loss even though it's important, and also, with being a vampire, she possibly could have still eventually circled back every 100 years or so -- such is the nature of family. they're still there, even if you don't see them for a very long time

and now, finally, forever. claudia is no longer there

im just. yes, louis let her down. but he let her down like you let your family down, by assuming that no matter what, they were a given. claudia can't simply... not be there anymore... she's his family. you argue and you make up and you fuck up and you forgive and you're still there, no matter how messed up you feel or how much you grow apart

she's so right in asking that question: who is louis outside of her? but not just because louis has had the worst luck in life (human and vampire) and been unable to form himself specifically because of *waves hands at everything,* but also because when you see yourself as a caretaker (whether or not you're doing a good job of it), who are you when that person wants to move on from you, doesn't need you in the way you want to be needed, when that person perhaps leaves your life for good?

[novthewolf]

Could you please do George x fem!reader and they like grew up together and everyone thinks they’re dating and that leads to some kind of love confession please 😞🙏🏼

Would it really be so bad ?

Pairing : George Weasley x ChildhoodBestFriend!Reader

Masterlist : Here

Warnings : foul language, mild angst, crying, lots of fluff, english isn’t my first language.

Words :  2,1k words

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You grew up in Ottory St. Christopher, a small village where two other wizard families lived. One of which happens to be a huge family of red-headed pure blood. You only had one older sister, seven years apart from you. So most of the time, you would have to play on your own.

 

Fortunately for you, your neighbours had a pair of twins of your age, George and Fred. You spent so much time with them, you could have been their triplet! They loved your similar mischief, but you always had the capacity to see when to stop and the limits that couldn't be crossed, especially when it came to their baby brother Ron.

Maybe it was the reason you got closer to George in the first place. He was the most reserved twin, down to earth, and incredibly sweet. He taught you how to fly a broom, and you showed him some basic potion-making you had learned from Potion Kit for Little Wizards.

 

"There you go ! See ? I told you you could do it." You exclaimed proudly at his first-ever successful potion.

 

"Yeah, you've only had to show me six times..." He dismissed her with a coy smile.

 

"It doesn't matter; the most important thing is that you get it now." And then you kissed him on his freckled cheek.

 

From this moment on, you two started to share an increasing amount of physical touch : hugs, kisses on the cheeks and forehead, even holding hands ! Sometimes, you were found napping together on the couch during dinners or family events. All in complete innocence. Your parents thought it was simply adorable, commenting on how you two will end up together in the future. And you two always reacted with disgusted expressions and gagging noises.

 

The years went by quickly ; soon you went to Hogwarts, and you ran ammock over there instead. In school, a lot more people would notice the close relationship you two have. Your friends would always bring it up, but you always turned a blind eye, denying your feelings in the process.

 

"So what's holding hands ? We've been doing it since we were three; it doesn't mean anything."

 

"The kisses ? Oh, it's just a good-bye or good-luck kind of thing. It's what close friends do."

 

But over your fifth year, things started to take a different turn. You were feeling strange. It started small, like your thumb rubbing the back of his hands as you enjoyed the comforting warmth he offered you. Or the way your heart skipped a beat every time he called you 'love'. You tried your best to not think of what your heart was desperately begging you to understand. Overlook the way your cheeks lit up when George would give you his scarf in winter or how your ear would buzz every time you cuddled.

 

However, during that particular Quidditch game, you knew you were done for. George was, once again, giving his all to beat Slytherin's team. He kept swigging the bat as hard as he could, offering a great view of his still-developing biceps. Sweating, heave breathing, and red hair all over the place. You couldn't stop looking at him or blushing like a tomato. You almost didn't hear your friend nudging your elbow and yelling 'lucky you' through the roaring crowd. Confused but smitten, you didn't have the heart to answer her.

 

At the end of the game, a muddy George came running your way, arms wide open, to twirl you around in his arms. You saw his teamates sofetened faces, like witnessing a wholesome relationship between a couple. But all you could think about as you observed him talk about his exploits was :

 

God, I want to kiss him so bad.

 

You spent the aftermath of the game in your dorm, thoughts whirlwinding as you held your face in your hands and laid on top of your bed. What the fuck were you thinking ? The more you contemplated your feelings, the more you noticed some things.

 

Like, you realised that you never thought of dating anyone... No, really. When you envisioned your future, you always pictured you and George pranking and hanging out together.

 

"Y/N ? Are you  alright ?"George opened your door with a low creak.

 

You yelled, absolutely not ready to hear his voice in such a critical moment.

 

"Of course I am." You stuttered, making him face your back. "I just have a headache, that's all."

 

"Do you want me to stay and cuddle ?" He offered you a step closer to your bed.

 

Like a spring, you jumped to stop him by dismissing his attempt. "No ! No, go back down and enjoy your party; you deserve it." You met his eyes and smiled. He was taken aback, of course, but you were not ready to snuggle with him yet. Merlin, what would you do if you couldn't hug him anymore ?

 

"Okay... I'll come check on you later. I'll bring you a snack." George whispered. His hand went and stroked your forehead and temple. He was so gentle, you couldn't help but nuzzle against him. The skin of his hand shivered, and you felt him halt for a second. You saw his soft red hair flash in front of your eyes as you felt his lips kiss the side of your forehead.

 

Later that night, you woke up to find a slice of pumpkin pie on your nightstand and a blanket covering your waking form. George was an incredibly sweet person; he always has been. And yet your heart couldn't help but race wildly at his caring nature.

 

However, scared you would ruin everything between the two of you, you never said anything... at least for a year.

 

Over the last few months, you've kept up the same loving habits you two shared, but you always welcomed them with a different spirit. You loved him so much. But there was no way of telling if he loved you too. Well, of course he did, but you knew what you meant. And you couldn't even try to catch hints! His tender attitude was always present; George was always caring for you.

 

It's always' been this way.

 

Nevertheless, all your confusion and eagerness to confess were nothing compared to the jealousy and fear you felt when Professor McGonagal announced the upcoming Yule Ball. Every girl will come to ask him out. And there wasn't anything you could do to prevent that. No, you would have to be supporting, like the best friend he deserved. You could do it, for him

 

"Hey, wonder why you still didn't get a date for the ball." Fred questioned his twin with a mouthfull of food. You were cheerfully dining with your friends in the Great Hall when suddenly the question popped up. And, surprising enough, you had lost your appetite.

 

But George didn't have the time to swallow his food that Alicia interjected in his place. "Well, girls are not going to ask a guy out for the ball when he's already dating someone. It would be instant rejection." She laughed while playing with the content of her plate.

 

George chocked on his food and violently coughed. You rushed to help him while slowly feeling your mind slip away.

 

He was dating someone. Now, you didn't just lose your appetite; you also gained the need to cry. George is seeing someone, and he didn't tell you anything? You were his best friend!

 

"Wait. You're dating someone when you didn't tell me ?" Fred shouted, not helping his poor brother in the slightest. Who, by the way, shot him the nastiest glare.

 

George was gradually catching his breath as you rubbed his back gently. And, before you could stop yourself, you asked the question that was burning your lips.

 

"Who are you dating...?"

 

The redhead turned your way, swallowing hard. He noticed your glistening eyes, and you saw confusion settle on his face.

 

"No one-"

 

"You, of course!" Angelina interrupted, matter-of-factly.

 

You must have been gawking at her for a while, causing her smile to fade. Your cheeks were turning pink, and you squeezed your hand into a fist before stuttering.

 

"W-We're not dating, Angelina."

 

"Really ?!" Lee's eyes were gushing out of their sockets. "C'mon, you're kidding, right ? You guys have been together for ever !"

 

You groaned and hid your face in your hands. George was muttering gibberish, embarrassed out of his mind. You peeked at him through your fingers and saw him at a total loss of words. Letting out a shudder, you pulled on your hair and decided to get out of here.

 

"I'm off to bed. Good night, guys." You sprinted out of your seat, your right leg getting caught in the back. The pain was sharp, and you hissed, but you couldn't stay. That's it. Tears started to run down your cheeks. Your friends called out to you, apologising and asking if you were okay.

 

The walk up the stairs was torture; flashes of the past kept rewinding in your mind. You couldn't face George or any of your friends; you totally gave yourself out! Wiping your eyes to see where you were going, you headed to a hidden secret passage.

 

But before you could close yourself off, you heard your childhood best friend call your name. He had been running up the staircase to catch up to you. You held the trap open but sat still on the side of the entrance.

 

"Y/N, come on, talk to me." He kneeled beside you and put his hand on your right knee, rubbing the sore limb. "What's going on ?"

 

When he looked at you with such worried and pleading eyes, you didn't have the heart to blow him off. So you try to offer him a satisfying answer while preserving your feelings.

 

"Just... It's just what they say, you know. I don't even know why I am so upset."

 

You looked up to observe his expression. George's lips parted as his eyes scanned your own. He didn't know how to handle the situation. You waited for him to answer but couldn't keep gazing into his eyes.

 

"Yeah, I-I know, right ? Can you believe they thought we were  together ?"George laughed in disbelief.

 

"Would it really be so bad...?" You croaked, your tears clutching your throat. A sob escaped your lips, and you hid yourself by bringing up your knees.

 

"No, no, don't cry. Shh..." George didn't let you slip away. Instead, he brought you to his chest, and you laid on him. You started apologising to him for ruining everything. But he kept cooing to you, caressing your hair and kissing the top of your head.

 

Even when you had calmed down, you were too afraid to pull away from him, fearing you would lose him if you did. Still, you didn't expect him to speak up again.

 

"It wouldn't be bad. Merlin, Y/N, it's far from it. Being with you is the greatest thing I could ever ask for in this world."

 

You gasped but didn't let go, not yet. Even if you wanted to, George tightened his embrace, as if bracing himself.

 

"But... I'm so scared that my feelings would push you away. I couldn't bear to lose you. You're my best friend, and I  just His voice shivered, and you swear you felt tears fall down on your head.

 

"George..." You started, grabbing on his strong arms.

 

"I love you so much." He finally sobbed, his teeth gritting. "Just, please..."

 

"George." You urged. Your body left his, but you still supported yourself on him. Heart beating like crazy, tears strained your face, but with the slightest smile grazing your lips, you went and held his face with your hands.

 

He looked so frail. Your favourite red head was indeed crying, and his breathing was abored. He loved you. You breathily laughed and shook your head. George tried to mumble something that sounded like an apology.

 

"No... It's okay." You smiled and kissed his cheekbone ever so tenderly. "I love you too. Well, obviously, I do." You giggled. "But, I mean, I like like you too." You stroked his cheek with your thumb.

 

His beautiful, bright smile lit up his face once again. You felt his warm skin under your fingertips as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours.

 

You stayed like this for a while, eyes closed, enjoying each other's presence. A few minutes later, George sat up and kissed the tip of your nose. You hummed in response.

 

"At least we won't have to announce we're together." George jested.

 

"Too bad, I was ready to fight other girls to have you as my date for the Yule Ball." You fakely lamented.

 

"Pff, you wish ! I would have thrown an amazing surprise to ask you." He assured you in a dramatising tone.

 

You laughed and hugged him one last time before getting up and making your way to your dorm, holding hands and giving a brand new meaning to this once-innocent gesture.

 

You'll have to thank Alicia and Angelina later.

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[romanarose]

To the Rescue

Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sarah gets her period, and Joel is a bit lost.

Warnings: So much period talk. so much. Thats about it.

EDIT Gotdamn two requests for part two already and it’s been up a few hours 😂 part two it is! Maybe with smut 👀

Let’s see. Comment if you’d like to be tagged!

************

You didn’t wanna assume anything… maybe he knew what he was doing. Maybe he was just trying to find a particular kind. 

Or maybe the 30-something-year-old man was wandering lost around the feminine hygiene aisle overwhelmed because his wife, daughter, or sister sent him to buy some, and he had no idea what he was doing.

“Excuse me, sir?” You gently approach the nervous man. When he turns to you, wide-eyed and red faced, you can’t help but notice how handsome he is, soft brown curls framing a strong jaw and curved nose.

“Oh, ‘scuse me, ma’am.” He nods his head to you, and steps back, presumably to get out of your way.

You smile softly at him, trying to put him at ease. “No, no, you’re alright, I was just gonna ask if you needed any help?”

The man blushes harder at that, dodging your attempts to catch his eyes. He looks like he’s about to refuse, but reconsiders. Looking at the floor and shoving his hands in his pockets, he answers. “My daughter, she started… um… yeah. For the first time today… the nice cashier boy is an older brother of her friend so he let her in the employee bathroom, since apparently, they don’t have a public one.” The annoyance laced his voice, and it’s obvious it had taken a moment to get the poor young girl to privacy. He finally looks at you, not so much embarrassed, but more ashamed. “I should’a been prepared for this, but I thought… I thought I had more time, you know? She’s still a little girl to me, I guess I didn’t see it coming. So. Here we are.”

You nod, listening. “Are you able to contact her mom?”

Shaking his head, he looks away again. “She left when Sarah- uh, my daughter- when Sarah was two, I gave up tryna involve her in Sarah's life by Kindergarden- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be dumping all this shit-I Mean, crap- on you.”

He was a southern gentleman, it seemed, not keen on swearing around women. You felt for him, you did. A single dad in this position wasn’t ease. 

“I see, well, I’m happy to help, if that’s alright.”

An audible sigh of relief escapes him. “That would be great, thank you. I don’t wanna… well she’s already very embarrassed. The cashier was nice, but he definitely saw the blood on her shorts, and she’s pretty humiliated. You know, teenage boy she knows and all that… I don’t wanna make it worse.” He shuffles his feet. “I don’t wanna make her feel like this is something to be ashamed of, or that I’m grossed out. I’m not.” He glances at you before sighing again but keeping eye contact. “I just feel out of my depth that’s all.”

“I understand. This sort of thing can be confusing for adult women do. We learn new things all the time, what works better and what doesn’t. I don’t think anyone expects you to be an expert.”

With a shy smile, the young man extends his hand. “Joel Miller, pleasure to meet yuh, miss.”

You tell him your name, and get to work, not wanting to leave that poor girl waiting. “Any known allergies, Mr. Miller?”

“Please, you can call me Joel. And yeah, she’s allergic to latex.”

Nodding again, you move to a particular section. “Okay, good think I asked because some have latex. Here.” You give him a box of basic Kotex pads and a box of tampons. “This brand is latex free, and they are a good brand. Just make sure you check any new products if you get 'em. She probably won’t want to use tampons for a few years yet, but let’s get 'em just in case” You grab a box of larger ones. “And these are overnight pads, but the first day or two are always the heaviest each month, and if I’m being honest, I just use these the first day, even with a tampon.” Your face suddenly matches Joel’s blush. “Sorry, that’s probably TMI”

“No!” He reassures, wide-eyed. “I don’t mind, any information is helpful- uh- if you’re comfortable, of course.”

You can’t seem to stop smiling at him. “Yeah. I’m pretty open. Well, for me, my first two days are insanely heavy, and the tampons bleed through really quick, so if I’m at work it's better just to have a big pad on to prevent leaks. I think it’s safe to say she’s gonna like these while she is figuring things out.”

Joel nods, and you can tell he’s trying very hard to take in this information. He grabs another box of the over night pads, then looks at you. “Just in case”

“Okay, now, you said she bleed through her clothes right?”

Joel scrubbed his face. “Oh god, yeah, and they don’t sell clothes here, huh.” He sighs, before coming up with a plan. “That's okay” I’ll just wrap my jacket around her.”

“Here.” You toss him some baby wipes. “You go check out, I got some sweats in my car, I’ll grab them and meet you at the employee bathroom.”

His eyes go wide at that. “Oh! Oh no, miss, thank you but you don't have to-”

But you hold out a hand to quiet the handsome single dad. “I want to. And they are just shitty sweats, don’t worry for one minute.” Before he could argue, you leave him, and soon you return to the front where Joel is trying to get his daughter to open the door… but she’s refusing.

“Sarah, honey, it’s okay, it’s okay I’m just gonna hand you what you need-”

“No!” You can hear her yell from the bathroom, and you can’t imagine she’s older than 10.

You step up to the door. “Hey, Sarah? I’m a friend of your dads. I got some clean clothes for you, if you crack open the door I have a towel you can cover yourself with, and I can help you, or if they you think got it-”

The door unlocked, and Joel looked visibly relieved as you handed her the beach towel through the cracked door. 

“Is this alright? I’ll keep the door unlocked and be in and out.” You assure him, and he agrees.

“I really appreciate all your help; I can’t say thank you enough.” 

Sarah calls that you can come in, and with a towel covering her you show her the products and explain how to use them. You slip out again and lean against the wall looking at an anxious Joel.

“She okay? She good?” He asks you, the worry evident on his face.

You were quick to reassure him. “She’s alright, just embarrassed, but I managed to slip in that you were absolutely not weirded out and not nervous at all.”

“Already lying for me, huh darl’n?”  He chuckles a bit, finally seeming to relax. “You really came to my rescue.”

You could stare at his soft brown eyes all day… “It’s alright. No one really prepares you for this as a dad.”

The smile on his face falls. “But I should’ve prepared myself, you know?” his large hand goes to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t want you to think I didn’t try, really. When her mom left I really tried to… you know… learn how to do both, the mom stuff and dad stuff.” Joel chuckled a bit. “I can throw a mean tea party.”

Smiling softly, you hope your face doesn’t show one of judgment. "I bet you can."

“But then she just got older so fast… ”

“How old is she?”

“10”

“Well, in your defense, that is a little earlier than expected.” You can see his eyes widen, so you’re quick to assure him. “Not too early! Any time between 9 and 16 I think is normal and healthy. 12-13 is the average though.”

He wouldn’t stop beating himself up about it. “I should’ve been prepared, but my ma died before Sarah was born and I work with all men so I just… didn’t have anyone to ask, and then I know I could probably look it up but I didn’t even know what I’m looking for, plus it’s the internet so I wasn’t really sure what I’d see-”

“Joel!” You stop him, laughing and putting a hand on him, hoping to cool his anxious over-explaining… he relaxes into your touch. “I have been getting mine for ages, and I still find myself getting caught off guard without products. You’re a good dad, okay? You’re trying your best, and from what I’ve seen, you’ve raised a lovely, polite young lady. You’re not gonna traumatize her because you didn’t have pads.”

When he smiles at you, you can’t help but fall into those puppy-dog eyes just a little bit more.

Sarah emerges from the bathroom, looking at the floor but trying to put on a brave face. You decide to leave them be, let them go home so the poor girl could rest and Joel could calm down.

“I’m going to finish my shopping, any more questions before I go, sweetie?”

She gives a light smile. “No ma’am, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Joel?” You ask the girls dad, and he laughs as he shakes his head.

“Got about a thousand, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Dad” Sarah urges him to stop talking, so Joel does. 

“Thank you, miss. I appreciate it.”

You say goodbye to both, and go to retrieve your shopping cart. 

Meanwhile, Joel watches you leave, before Sarah speaks up.

“Who was that? She said she was a friend of yours, but you don’t have friends other than Uncle Tommy.”

“Hey now, little lady.” Joel looks down at her, but Sarah just gives him a look. “Fine, you got me. Just a nice lady helping a hopeless old man.”

“Well, she was nice. Can we go home? I think I deserve some of that candy you keep hidden away.”

“How do you know about that?”

“You fall asleep watching TV with your mouth full of chocolate.” Sarah then flops her head back, mouth open, imitating a loud snore. 

Joel gently bonks her head, making the pre-teen giggle. “Alright I get your point, fine. Let’s go home.” Joel put his arm around his daughter, walking her outside as he carried the back of products and her dirty shorts.

When Sarah stuffed her hands into your large sweatpants, she felt something in the pocket. “Oh I hope he doesn’t need this.”

“What is it?” Joel hoped it was important so he had an excuse to find you and talk to you again. 

Sarah handed him a business card. It had your name, and business and cellphone number printed on it, but it was the back that caught his attention. Written in blue ink, it said: “Call me, cowboy <3”

******************

First Joel with no smut XD

I was debating writing this or a dark!joel one shot, but christ, my dark joel series is *dark* so i needed to lighten myself up a bit.

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

IDK who else is reading none smutty joel so i guess im just tagging fen bc they read all my nonsense XD

[theshelbyclan]

A Sisterly Bond

Summary: Ada and Teddy don’t have much in common, but that doesn’t mean that they couldn’t make a good team

A/N: I just felt like writing again, and for Ada and Teddy in particular. I always imagine them getting on better and better as Teddy gets older. She’s still young in this one, so it’s a rocky relationship still 😂 anyways, hope you enjoy to whoever still is reading my stuff!

Words: 2630

*****

“Teddy, would you be so kind as to give me my coat?”

“No.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Ada sighed, “why do you always have to be difficult?”

“Am not,” Teddy grumbled.” I just don’t see why I have to be your lady’s maid, just because you’re my sister.”

“Ooh, there’s a big word!” the older sister replied sarcastically.

“Tommy says all fancy rich ladies have a lady’s maid.”

“ ‘Tommy says’…” Ada rolled her eyes and Teddy stuck out her tongue at her.

In many ways, Ada and Teddy were nothing alike. There was the age gap, of course, but they also just seemed to have very little in common. Ada didn’t care much for family business, while Teddy wanted to know everything about everything. Ada tried her best to live her own life without her brothers interfering at every turn, whereas Teddy wanted to be like her brothers in every way. Ada made an effort to never care too much, unlike Teddy, who cared so much and didn’t have a problem showing it. Also, Ada wanted to go out in her fancy coat and high heels, and Teddy wanted to run free in her brother’s trousers and shirt.

Polly watched the two sisters and followed Teddy with her eyes as she stormed out the door in a huff. She then turned to Ada and said, “Would it kill you to just say a kind word to her every now and then?”

Ada had her nose back in the papers and shrugged, “I don’t know, Pol. Would it kill her to practise some good manners?”

“You know what she’s like.”

“Oh, I do,” she sighed, “I remember when she was born and you told me how nice it would be for me to have another girl in the family. Instead we got… Teddy.”

———

Nine-year-old Teddy Shelby was walking through the muddy streets and pretended she was a pirate. With a stick in hand, she fought off the assailants only she could see and shouted out battle cries. But in the chaos of Small Heath, no one really noticed her. And if they did, they simply thought: there goes Teddy Shelby…

Her playing was suddenly interrupted though by her youngest brother. “Aunt Polly says she wants you to go with Ada!” Finn shouted out, as he ran towards her.

“Why?” she sighed, exasperated.

“I don’t know. She needs help carrying things from the market?”

Teddy kicked a rock, “Can’t you do it?”

Finn shrugged again, “It’s a woman’s job, isn’t it.”

“Oh fuck off!” As Finn pouted a little, she added, “Please can you go? Ada doesn’t even like me…”

If there was one thing Finn couldn’t stand, it was seeing his little sister upset, so he agreed. “You know, Arthur is always with John. Ada likes me, but you’re Tommy’s favourite.”

“I know.”

“So it’s not that bad, right?” Finn tried hopefully.

“I suppose not.” But Teddy couldn’t help but feel a little sadness over it.

———

“Aunt Pol says I’m to get you ready for church.”

“I am ready,” Teddy motioned to her dress, which she hated so intensely.

Ada sighed, “What have you done to your knees now? They look like you’ve become the chimney sweep’s latest apprentice.”

“Why do you always have to badger me?” Teddy called out, full of frustration.

“Just… clean your knees before Polly sees,” she waved a hand and put on a hat.

Teddy started scrubbing furiously at her legs. Ada watched her and decided that maybe she should make an effort. So she asked, “What do you think of this hat? Does is suit me?”

“I don’t know,” the little girl shrugged, “it stays on so I’m guessing it fits your head?”

“Bloody hell, I don’t know why I even bother. Let’s go.”

———

In the late afternoon sun, Tommy was talking to a man about a horse. Next to him, a small girl was following the conversation intensely, trying to learn as much from the interaction as she could.

“I’ll give you four for her, but no more.”

“Can’t do less than six, mister Shelby,” the man slapped her brother’s hand, “She’s a good horse, that one. Strong.”

“She’s no war horse and I could have fucking five of her for that price. Four and a half.”

“I have a family to feed, sir. Five?”

Tommy shook his hand and that was that.

After he’d left, Teddy looked up and, like she’d been in the business for twenty years, said, “She’s worth at least ten, Tommy.”

“Is she?” he took a drag on his cigarette, but inside felt like he could burst with pride. Then he lifted Teddy up and planted her up onto the horse, “Go on, tell me what she’s like.”

As Teddy rode around the yard, Ada joined her brother. With her usual air of indifference, she commented, “Well, if it isn’t the big brother and his pride and joy.”

“Hello, Ada…”

“Did she persuade you into spending more money once again?”

“Look at her,” Tommy pointed, “She might be the best rider in all of Small Heath.”

Ada raised her eyebrows and mumbled, “High praise…” In truth, Ada was impressed. She’d always been the odd one out in the family when it came to horses. She never much cared for them and riding them had always been more of a chore than a pleasure.

“Why don’t you tell her how good she looks up on that horse, eh?”

“Me? Why the hell would I tell her?”

Tommy locked eyes with Ada, “Because it’s you she wants to hear it from.”

She laughed a little at that, “No, Tommy, it’s you she wants to hear it from. Everything she wants to hear from you.”

As Ada walked off again, Tommy called after her, “She is your only sister, Ada.”

“And what a joy she is,” but it didn’t come out that sarcastic this time.

After a few more minutes or riding, Teddy hopped down from the horse again. Her brother asked her some questions about the horse and she answered to the best of her abilities. But in between, Teddy carefully asked, “Was that Ada?”

“Yes, just on her way home from the Bullring.”

“Did she watch me ride?” Teddy asked in a small voice.

Tommy observed her for a second, “Now, why do you ask that?”

She shrugged her shoulders and turned away to brush off the horse, “Just curious.”

———

Polly was a modern woman in many ways, but not in every way. She might’ve even been insulted if you called her that. So, when it was time for the spring cleaning of the house, she asked the girls to help. Well, she didn’t really ask.

“Ada, you start on sweeping and Teddy you can follow her with the bucket.”

Both girls rolled their eyes so hard it had to hurt and Polly couldn’t help but notice how in those few seconds, they looked exactly alike.

“I’ll be in the back with the washing,” their aunt continued, leaving no room for arguments.

Cigarette in hand, Ada started sweeping the floors at her own leisurely pace.

“Hurry up, will you?” Teddy grumbled, “I have to wait on you to mop and I do have other things to do, you know.”

“Oh? And what important appointments might you have, you strange little idiot?”

“Don’t call me an idiot!” Teddy stomped down het foot, “and hurry the fuck up!”

“Swear again and I’ll give you a slap!”

“Go on then!”

Ada huffed and swung her broom, aiming for her annoying sister. Teddy ducked and laughed, “You’re too slow.”

“Teddy…” she sighed, “I don’t want to do this either and I don’t have the energy to fight you as well. Just shut up and get this done.”

“Fine. Go on then, work, unless you’re afraid you’ll break a fucking nail or something.”

That earned Teddy a firm smack around the head. Angrily, she picked up her bucket and threw its contents in Ada’s direction, instantly soaking her sister.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?!”

Aunt Polly came barging in the house after hearing Ada scream. Inside, she found a furious Teddy with one red cheek and an even more furious Ada, completely wet and dripping.

“I left you two alone for five fucking minutes,” she glared daggers, “and you can’t even behave for that long?”

Ada seemed to have found her composure again and grabbed another, dry, cigarette. “That’s what happens when you leave me with an actual fucking savage, Pol.”

“It’s not my fault! She started it!” Teddy fumed, “She called me an idiot and she does that all the time because she hates me!”

“Jesus Christ,” Polly lit a cigarette of her own, “Ada, go get changed and then you can continue the work outside. Teddy, you take over the sweeping. Probably my own fucking fault for thinking you could get along for half a day…”

With all the dignity she could muster in a soaked dress, Ada stalked off. Teddy picked up the broom and tried to avoid Polly’s eyes.

“I’ll have a word with her,” Polly said eventually, not without sympathy.

“Which is more than I’ll ever fucking have again,” Teddy spit.

“God,” Polly whispered to herself, “Why did you have to make them both so fucking stubborn?”

———

It was the evening after pay day, so all the pubs in Small Heath were filled to the brim. Normally, they didn’t serve women on their own, but Ada Shelby was the exception to the rule. Harry wouldn’t dare to refuse her.

“Here you go, Miss Shelby,” he said, as he handed her a drink.

She took it gratefully and went to sit down. The truth was, she was hoping to catch a glimpse of Freddie Thorne, but he hadn’t been in yet.

After fifteen minutes, she wanted another one and made her way over to the bar again. But the place was packed and it took too long for her liking. So, Ada went behind the bar and poured her own drink. Teddy watched her and smirked slightly. Deep down, she did admire her sister, simply because she wasn’t impressed by anything or anyone really.

At the same time, an older gentlemen strolled into the Garrison. He was dressed differently, looked like money, and had the confidence to match. Short as he was, he made up for it in attitude. Teddy didn’t know him and eyed him carefully.

Then he spotted Ada and made his way over. Leaning on the bar, he started talking to her, but Teddy couldn’t hear. She stood up and walked a little closer, while remaining invisible in the crowd.

“Come on, sweetheart, pretty girl like you all alone without a man?”

“Who says I am?” Ada shrugged, and Teddy could tell she was uncomfortable.

He smiled at her without humour, “How about I take you for a good time. You don’t want to be difficult, do you?”

Teddy frowned and felt the urge to spit at him. But instead she noticed how he was standing up on the little ledge of the bar, just a few inches off the ground. Cockily, he balanced on one leg, presumably to make up for the inches he lacked.

So the little girl grinned and just as he was telling Ada about all the things he had and could offer her, Teddy walked up to him and kicked him in the back of his knees. At once, he lost his balance and his legs buckled. And in one swift motion, he collapsed onto the bar and then fell flat on his arse.

The pub erupted in laughter.

Teddy joined in, but only got to celebrate her triumph for a few seconds. The man became furious and grabbed her, raising his hand to strike her. But before he could, Ada had grabbed a bottle and smashed it over his head. Afterwards, she calmly brushed the glass off her own coat and bit, “Now, piss off.”

“Yeah!” Teddy added, “Piss off!”

Ada looked down at her and grabbed her hand. She didn’t feel like waiting for what was to happen next, so she marched her little sister out of the pub.

Outside, neither said a word for a long time. Eventually, Ada was the first one to speak, “Would you mind explain what the bloody hell that was?”

Teddy shrugged, a little winded from having to run after Ada in her four inch heels, “I thought he was a bad man, so I didn’t want him to talk to you.”

Ada looked down at her strange little sister and felt a sudden surge of love for her, “He was a bad man. And I didn’t want him to talk to me.”

“Why?”

“Teddy… there are some good men out there…”

“Are there?”

“…but most of them are just bastards.”

Teddy pondered on that for a second, “How do you know which one is the not-bastard?”

Ada smiled, “Well, apparently, you already do. This one was not one of them.”

“So, you’re not mad at me for kicking him?” She tried carefully.

“Mad?” She laughed, “I thought it was bloody brilliant!”

Teddy smiled back up at Ada, beaming with pride.

“Thank you, Teddy, because for a moment, I did get scared.”

“I can come with you all the time, if you like!” her little sister quipped happily, “Keep watch for you?”

“That won’t be necessary, sweetheart, but I appreciate the offer.”

Casting her eyes down again, “Yeah, I know you don’t want me around…”

And quite abruptly, Ada stopped her in the streets, “Now wait a second, you strange little…” she quickly swallowed her words, “Teddy. Just because I don’t always like you, doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Do you understand?”

“No. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe not,” Ada marched on again and Teddy once again struggled to keep up, “but it will as soon as you find your own not-bastard!”

Teddy looked a little too pensive for Ada’s liking, so she said in her version of being comforting, “I’ll look out for you too and kick any man that gets to close, don’t worry.”

“What happened to you two?” Polly demanded, as her two nieces walked through the door.

“Nothing,” they both replied in unison.

Thomas looked from one to the other, “Tell me what happened.”

“We told you, Thomas, nothing happened,” Ada replied airily, while taking off her gloves.

“Teddy, you fucking tell me now.”

But even Teddy didn’t crumble under her brother’s piercing eyes this time. Instead, she looked up to Ada and said, “It’s nothing, Tommy. Just women’s business. Nothing for you to worry about.” She was now directly quoting her other female role model and Polly had no choice but to bend her head to hide her smile.

Ada smiled back at Teddy and left the room, with her little sister in tow.

“What the fuck was that?” Tommy sighed.

Polly replied, not without some smugness, “I believe that was a sisterly bond in action.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking hell,” he breathed, as he lit another cigarette.

Polly turned around to continue her work, “You’re outnumbered now, Thomas!”

Tommy tried to make a dismissive hand gesture, “There’s four of us, only two of them.”

“Yes, but they’re women, sweetheart, and women count for at least two men. Besides, they’re together now.”

This was all too much for the great leader of the Peaky Blinders to understand. There were some things, ‘women’s business’ as Teddy so elegantly had put it, that he tried to steer clear of. Still, he felt a pang of sadness over his little sister growing up. Maybe he was losing her.

“You won’t,” his aunt read his mind, “but you can’t protect her forever either.”

“If I can’t, who will?”

Polly smiled gently, “We will.”

*****

Masterlist

[slytherinshua]

i'm not really one for new years or rly doing anything for it, but i thought i should at least thank all my friends who have made this year infinitely better for me. i'm ngl, this year was really hard in many ways. it felt like me and my family particularly were hit with new things to deal with as soon as the old ones had ended, and we just desperately wanted a break.

my way of getting a break was talking to you all, writing my silly little delusions, and being able to have a space here to share my work. so thank you. whether you were a silent reader, liked, reblogged, followed, or gave feedback for my writing-- all of you have helped me so much this year. the love that my writing has received has given me such motivation to keep going and to keep trying, and i don't think i would've otherwise.

now to thank my lovely friends, who without, i wouldn't be here today :( in no particular order...

@aravrs,, @kyrjnie,, @nyukyujs,, @etherealyoungk,, @rubywonu,, @kyeomyun,, @idubiluv,, @minholing,, @welcometomyoasis,, @dinotoro,, @wonijinjin,, @hannieheartuu,, @mangocustard16,, @amara-mars,, @glosskirt i don't like putting you all together because each of you mean so much to me individually, but i was worried i was gonna forget some of you especially since i don't talk to you guys as much </3 i love each and every one of you, and you have made 2023 such a fun year for me since i was able to talk to you all!! thank you for wanting to be moots with me and for talking to me, talking with you has been so fun and comforting this year <3 cheers to 2024 🫡

@blue-jisungs axe you were one of my first moots ever, and the first blog i followed. we became friends last year but i feel like we became so much closer this year. we watched kdramas together, spammed and ranted to each other, fed each other brainrot and delusions, and just generally enjoyed each others company :( i cannot see my life without you in it, you are so so so important to me now and i want to cry whenever i think about how amazing it is to have you as one of my best friends. i love you more than you know <3

@fairyhaos yena! you were one of the first blogs that i saw and went "woah" bcuz ur writing has always been so amazing. i seriously love it so much, i'll never get sick of it. once i got to know you as a person, i realized that you're even more amazing than your writing is. you're fun and kind and sweet and caring-- thank you so much for being my friend this year and i can't wait to make more memories with you next year 🫡

@weird-bookworm sky you are truly one of my closest friends. we've spent so much time talking and i've enjoyed every second of it. i feel like we have a unique dynamic cause unlike my other friends, we're constantly teasing and bullying in each other in the best of ways <3 in a weird way, the fact that i still know someone who is as big an army as i used to be is comforting. you feel like nostalgia-- like the old me in 2021. and even tho ur older by a bit, you feel like a younger sister to me sometimes skdjsk i really love you a lot, thank you for being my friend this year!!

@haecien cien my only guy friend 👹 talking to you has been especially fun this year. introducing you to the new loves of ur life, listening to you scream about minghao, harua, seungwoo, hyunjae, shin and gaon, playing stardew valley, and sharing some nostalgia from the philippines is all so comforting to me <3 i love u so much and i hope that i can find some more guys to add to ur loml list in 2024 🤞

@kkooongie sarah!! we've talked quite a bit since we met, and it's always been so fun and nice to talk to someone who is as much of a multi as i am <3 finding someone who also stans groups like victon and verivery is extremely hard??? and i'm so happy that there's someone out there who loves silly little nugu kpop men just like me <3 i love you a lot, and i hope you never forget that 🫶

@evalevaeva eva.... ur just incredible to me sometimes?? from writing the best fuma delusions to stressing out abt ur auditions (don't go to cube istg) talking to you has always been so fun!! i'm still so glad that you reblogged that one so mun fic, otherwise i would've never found your blog or talked to you </3 the sieun delusions are real and stan lucy for a better life 🤞 you always make me laugh and smile so much, and i hope i do too cause otherwise that would be a little awkward... 🧍‍♀️ PLS I HOPE IM NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO LIKES OUR FRIENDSHIP 👎

@caramel-maveeato viv </3 my wife fr 🥹 whether it was screaming about the men i love the most to dying over your art or fics, you've always been someone who was always comfortable to talk to. i just love talking to you so much its so therapeutic??? stop rizzing me up tho it must stop before i go insane 🙅‍♀️🚫 no more rizzing in 2024 okay 👹 i hope we talk a lot more and stay as close as we are now bcuz talking to you has always been one of my favorite things to do, i love you so much 💖

@candewlsy mizu my baby </3 I LOVE U SO MUCH LIKE PLS PLS PLS KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE U IM GONNA SCREAM I WANNA SQUISH U?? what. ur just so fun and silly and comforting and I LOVE U AND UR HUMOUR 🥹 i love how you allow me to introduce you to new kpop men and actors, and how you love them just as much as me!! you're just as delulu and slightly deranged as i am AND THATS WHAT MAKES IT FUN 😭 i love watching kdramas with you, and i hope we can finally get through our list of kdramas to watch in 2024 cause its getting l o n g e r 🧍‍♀️ thank you also for reblogging my fics bcuz ur reblogs have to be some of my favorites ever </3 they're so fun and entertaining to read, i always end up giggling :(

@wheeboo rania :( i know i usually bully you and you bully me back, the whole divorced wives things but idk i'm feeling a little emo rn so i'm just gonna be appreciative?? i know we have talked recently, but it feels like we haven't talked enough since before christmas cause i've been busy and you've been busy... and idk i've just felt that void a bit?? talking to you has always been so fun and relaxing, and it's guaranteed to make me smile and laugh and just be an escape from anything i've been thinking about. watching k-dramas and having little music sessions were some of my absolute favorite memories of this year. it's just so special that I can call you one of my best friends, and i hope that i can continue to talk to you for years to come because you're one of the most comforting people i've ever met. not to mention that you write like an absolute goddess?? i still remember proofreading psycho for the first time and just being so shocked bcuz how does anyone even write like that????? i love that i'm ur little go-to for fic spoilers pls don't ever replace me or i'll cry 🧍‍♀️ and whenever i'm struggling with a fic, i always go to you as well <3 i can't express how much i love you and how much you mean to-- words just aren't enough 😭 i'll never get tired of talking to you

@eternalgyu i saved you for last cause i know this is gonna be a long ass paragraph.... ppl are gonna be dying to scroll past this so i wanted to make sure u were at the end. saving the best for last yk 🫡 hannie you have changed my life. like from the day i met you my life was completely changed. it felt like i had finally found my missing puzzle piece?? the best friend that i never had was finally in my life. and my life has never been the same since. everyday when i wake up, i text you. my brain is just "hannie hannie hannie hannie hannie hannie" that's all it is now. when you weren't able to text me for 3 days, i felt like my world had stopped. i couldn't think about anything else, i couldn't sleep. at this point, i need you to live. i need you to be able to function. you are the reason i kept writing. you are the reason im alive. and you will always be my favorite person on this entire earth. i'd choose you over everyone and everything in a heartbeat. it's not even a question at this point, but i know the answer is gonna be you every time. i know this isn't an accurate number of the messages i've send to you, but just on discord, in 2023, i've sent you 183,422 messages. i'm sure ive sent thousands on instagram, and hundreds on other social media too. if you ever stop talking to me, i'll literally find u. LIKE U CANT EVER LEAVE ME CAUSE UR STUCK WITH ME FOR THE REST OF TIME >:( i'll start sending you daily emails pretending to be car insurance or smth like idk ill think of smth... anything to keep you as my best best friend for eternity. i know i say that i don't believe soulmates exist, because the idea of romantic soulmates is a little too fantastical for my realist mind. but since meeting you, i can say for certain that platonic soulmates do exist. we fit together so perfectly, i couldn't imagine anyone else as my best friend.

i remember one time before i met you, i tried to make an irl friend here and my dad said "i hope that you'll find your diana". obviously they didn't end up being your diana, but it's fine. because i did find my diana. you are my diana, and i am your anne. if i could spend the rest of my life talking to you, it'll still not be enough, so please keep talking to me in heaven or something.... the beomgyu to my taehyun, the jeonghan to my joshua, the sejun to my subin, the hoyoung to my gyehyeon, the wyatt to my yuto, the anton to my sohee, the taesan to my jaehyun, the yechan to my wonsang, the chanhee to my changmin, the jeongin to my seungmin, the moonbin to my rocky, the jo to my yuma, the jake to my jungwon, the theo to my jongseob, the taehyung to my hobi, the hwiyoung to my hwiyoung (what), THE HWIYOUNG TO MY DAWON (there we go), THE TAEYANG TO MY HWIYOUNG (even better), the jihoon to my minhyun, my one and only hannie. i love you more than anyone and anything. even though we're so different, we work so well together. we have different biases, and different habits. different religions and different plans for our lives. but we both have plans to meet each other, and i know it'll happen eventually. my life won't be complete until i can run up to you at the airport and give you the biggest hug. i'll probably start crying when that happens since i'm crying just think about it. i won't let go of the hug for maybe 5 minutes because i need to make up for all the hours spent that i couldn't give you a hug. i don't usually like hugs, but giving you one is all that i want to do. there's been so many times where i wished i could hug you. whenever you're struggling or feel depressed, whenever you feel hopeless and lost and uncared for and unloved and overlooked. i just want to hug you when i hear about them, because even though i don't know how to help you in those times, even when i don't have the solution, i know a hug would make things just a little better. when we eventually get ourselves a little apartment with a couple of cats, you can always come to me for a hug when you feel down. i'll bake you some brownies or cookies and we'll watch some kdramas together. we'll reminisce to old kpop songs from our childhood (like... srr SUGAR RUSH USH SUGAR RUSH USH SUGAR RUSH USH UH) and we'll eventually be old porch grandma's still bopping to txt's emo songs. i'll spend my teen years with you, and my adult years with you, and when i'm old and wrinkly, i hope you're still by my side. cause i don't want anyone else as my best friend. only you. pls don't cry while reading this cause ik you might AND I DIDNT MAKE THIS W THE INTENTION OF MAKING U CRY BUT LIKE IT MIGHT HAPPEN..... i rly rly love you. seriously. i love you so much. every memory i've made with you in 2023 is precious, and i know we'll make millions more in the years to come. please stay my best friend for the rest of time, because i'm never going to get sick of you. i love you the most, i hope you know that <3 i hope this is a good paragraph cause i forgot everything i wrote at this point, i don't really plan to write this much but whenever it comes to writing an appreciation for you, i always have more to say. you're my favorite person in the entire world, so ofc i would never run out of words to describe how much you mean to me. please be happy in 2024 and talk to me a lot <3 we'll meet each other for real soon and share a long hug together. until that day, let's continue how we are 🫶

happy new year to you all!! i hope 2024 is filled with love and joy and happiness <3 i love you all very much!! - zanna

[kaleb-is-definitely-sane]

Now it's your turn :))

orchid ⇢ what’s a song you consider to be perfect?

cactus ⇢ something you’re currently learning (about)?

bamboo ⇢ do you change into a different outfit when you get home?

abelia ⇢ do you have a particular piece of jewelry you always wear or can’t part with?

daffodil ⇢ do you have siblings? if yes, in what ways do you think you’re similar to or different from them?

mahonia ⇢ what place, thing, activity inspires you most and how do you express yourself when it does?

chia ⇢ what’s an inside joke you have with someone else?

sage ⇢ what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?

edelweiss ⇢ how’d you think of your url/username? what’s it associated with to you?

camellia ⇢ what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?

jasmine ⇢ do you have a movie or book you loved but will never watch/read again?

ivy ⇢ what are your ‘tells’ for your emotions and moods? how can someone tell you’re happy, annoyed, upset or tired?

chamomile ⇢ what kind of things do you like receiving as gifts?

aloe vera ⇢ what’s something (mundane) you really want to experience in life?

palm tree ⇢ do you have a fictional villain you shouldn’t like but love regardless?

nutmeg ⇢ how’s your room/home decorated? do you have a specific theme or style going on?

papyrus ⇢ if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with?

taro ⇢ if someone called you right now to catch up, what’re the things you’d tell them about?

orchid ⇢ Oh gosh, I love sooooo many songs. A song I consider to be perfect... idk. I'll have to say Always Be My Baby by Mariah Carey because it's my current obsession lol.

cactus ⇢ The Philosophy of Love. It's so cool. The Biblical Philosophy of Desire and Knowledge, Plato's Theory of Love and Becoming, The Medieval/Arabian concept of Courtly Love. They are all sooooo cool and sooooo fascinating and I love them all dearly.

bamboo ⇢ I go to school at home so I never really leave. And when I do leave to go somewhere on the weekend or such, I take a shower when I come home.

abelia ⇢ Not really, aside from this sterling silver cross necklace I got for my birthday last year. It's really cool and I love it hehehe

daffodil ⇢ So I have 3, all sisters. I don't really think i'm that similar to my older sister. Aside from sharing the same father, we're pretty different. With my two younger sisters, I look like the older of the two, however I'm nicer like the younger one.

mahonia ⇢ I try to take inspiration from literally everything. So... anything you can imagine lol. Whenever inspriation hits me I just start talking out loud. Usually it becomes a line for a poem. And i just recite that line out loud over and over until i get more lines. And then repeat. Usually i end up with a couple stanzas, constantly editing and revising in my mind the entire time until it's perfect. Or, near perfect as it can get.

chia ⇢ Me and my baby sister (she's 8 but always the baby) will constantly recite Benedick and Beatrice's lines to each other. Especially their first conversation in the play. Much Ado About Nothing is soooooo good loll. And then with @jordie-is-definitely-sane, we have incest is wincest lol. Because I love traumatizing her hehehe

sage ⇢ haha. I can't choose either. How could anyone??? I'm an aspiring actor, poet, and author, so obviously my favorites are theatre, poetry and prose fiction. But also music, paintings, sculpting, dance, et cetera all have such splendid things to offer as well. And i would love to learn how to do them all! They're all art and they all touch somewhere hands can't: into the deepest most inner part of your being. How one can say which is individually more touching? I can't fathom.

edelweiss ⇢ It's just my name + is definitely sane. Which is definitely a lie lol. My older one's were a lot more interesting but because of that i also constantly changed them lol. This one's more basic, but i'm never changing it

camellia ⇢ I'm not sure. I was happier as a kid, I used to run around more and talk more and I had a lot more friends irl. Now? I don't really know how to hold a conversation (T-T), I definitely talk less (not because i have less to say tho lol. Trust me I could talk for hours and I do when i'm alone), I definitely don't run around as much. Tho i'm not as sad about that last one. I have started dancing in the rain again like I used to so that's good :). I still read and write, in fact I do both of those even more then when i was younger. I still find beauty in everything. I still have an incredibly idealized view of nature and childhood. I still have a deep sense of needing to be myself (who that is? idk. but i need to find it) I think deep down I'm the same person. Just, kind of mellowed. I can't think of childhood and growing up without think of Trenton Lee Stewart's Riddle of Ages; he says that he doesn’t believe we become different people as we age. No, he says he believes that we become more people. We’re still the kids we were, but we’re also the people who’ve lived all the different ages since that time. And I think that's a beautiful sentiment.

jasmine ⇢ No. Absolutely not. If I loved it, im going to watch/reread it a thousand more times.

ivy ⇢ Body language, eyes, mouth, tone, the language they use (are they talking differently then usual), hands, etc.

chamomile ⇢ Books, chocolates, sweaters/hoodies, necklaces and bracelets (i love expensive shiny stuff but also that homey handmade stuff. I eat it up), MONEY$$$$$ lol. But like seriously.

aloe vera ⇢ I just want to know and be known. Which, though it sounds really mundane to others, I think is actually one of the most special, transcendental and divine things one can do in life (can you tell I've been studying the philosophy of love lol?). I genuinely believe in the Avicenna's concept of the ennobling power of love. With all of my heart.

palm tree ⇢ I mean... I can't really think of one? I love the Percy Jackson series and I love Luke so, i guess him? I have strong thoughts about him (bbg hates the West so much but is such a western tragic hero lol), he's so fascinating as a character and even moreso as a concept lol

nutmeg ⇢ My rooms pretty basic so no lol.

papyrus ⇢ I don't have one T-T. So i just picked a random song: ICU by Coco Jones. I associate it with @mera-mann-kehne-laga. No context.

taro ⇢ I'd probably tell them that I'm writing poetry, I'm working on 2 books, and that I scored a 28 on the ACT. I'm very bad at conversation so I probably just let them talk and listen to them, ask them questions to prod them, etc.

Thank you for the ask @memory-the-unconscious <333

[sammorallee]

i don't even remember when i finished them i think several weeks ago but.

meet the Mayday twins // my Veroval fankids

they are both adults! tho im pretty bad at drawing characters that look older that idk maybe 16-17 no matter how i try lol

idk how old they are in hellish years but basically like... 24+,y.o. adults kind of age range

Scarlette Mayday (the youngest twin) — is a pretty hyperactive and cheerful person. They (really) enjoy music, growing wild plants and changing their mind frequently. Like, changing their mind is their passion. Scarlette, unlike Verosika, is pretty chill with break ups and changing relationships (even settled ones), which Verosika is (maybe strangely) very proud of.

Her friends and family would most likely describe Scarlette as a "sweetheart", as she's usually kind and supportive, but when needed, they can show their sharp nature and act like a real meanie.

She does have some "super cool demon powers" as she says. The most important of her abilities is the flexibility of her body and arms. She's an excellent dancer — in any genre, if you ask — and her dancing, besides being mesmerizing, can literally hypnotize, which she often takes advantage of when she wants a one-night stand or something.

Some of her ex partners will say that she is a monster, some will say that they have never seen such support after such a rough breakup (she is a therapist for those who have had their hearts broken by her), and some will say that their relationships with her were the best of their lives.

Scarlett is not looking for and is unlikely to be looking for a long-term partner. Many of their former partners remain their close friends.

If you ask, yes, she was named Scarlette instead of Scarlet just because Velevette wanted her to be more like herself.

Scarlet is faeflux and abrosexual.

She has a tendency to munch on lots of delicious food and frankly, she's proud of it.

Sage Mayday (the oldest twin) — is the complete opposite of their sibling. Although reserved and not particularly sociable, under the right circumstances Sage still makes contact with others quite easily — their nature doesn't allow otherwise. But he does not intentionally seek contact and relationships with others.

Sage wasn't always like this. As his sibling would say, he "hadn't ever outgrown his teenage phase". However, the restraint and resilience in their character allows Sage to make rather cold-blooded but important decisions when needed.

Sage rarely uses his ability, but he is easily able to materialize any objects or creatures from sketches he draws. They have a pet, which, though no one has ever seen (not even his own sister), that Sage created himself. They describe it as "an entity similar to an Earth cat, with three pairs of paws and three pairs of eyes, a fox tail and parrot-like wings hidden under a ton of fur".

They may have a few murders under their belt that their parents don't know about, but it's hard to count the exact number because some of them were committed not by Sage himself, but by his creatures.

Sage is demi-rose (demiace + demiaro), androgyne and omniflux.

They're not very skilled romantically, tho they assume that in a relationship they'd have been an amazing partner (at least that what their mums tell them).

Although Sage can basically find anyone attractive at some point, he's really into transgender girls in particular.

There can be disagreements between the two twins and the ongoing battle for parental attention from childhood (the usual sibling stuff), but they are still each other's main support. Even though it's hard to hurt both of them — Scarlett doesn't care much for anyone's opinion, and Sage often doesn't take anyone he doesn't know well seriously — if it can be done.... One can only sympathize, because they can and will gnaw for each other (perhaps even literally)

There are no favourite kids in this household, too! So Velvette and Verosika both found their quarrels on that matter silly from the beginning.

im pretty bad at creating OCs imo (especially at creating fankids) but yeah i hope this doesn't look as messy as it seems to me

sorry if there's any typos i've got no sleep