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oceandolores · 2 months

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 3

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦"

summary: After the incident, where past traumas resurface and threaten to unravel your fragile sense of security, Joel steps in as a protector. His presence becomes a beacon of comfort amidst the chaos.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 3

masterlist of the series!

Previous | chapter 2

Next | chapter 4

The night when Jamie took your virginity by force felt like the moment the light within you was extinguished. It was as if the divine spark that once illuminated your soul was snuffed out, leaving behind a darkness that clung to you like a second skin. The purity you had cherished as a good Christian girl was shattered, and in its place, you felt an overwhelming sense of dirtiness. It was as if you had been marked, branded with an invisible scarlet letter that only you could see, yet you believed everyone else could see it too.

The past two months had been a relentless descent into a personal hell. You had become a ghost of your former self, your once vibrant spirit now a flickering ember. Physically, you were a shadow, your body wasting away as if your soul’s torment had seeped into your flesh. The weight of your violation bore down on you, leaving you with no desire to eat, to engage, to exist. Every day was a struggle against the ever-present feeling of disgust, the conviction that you were tainted beyond redemption.

In the eyes of others, you felt exposed, as if the sin of that night was etched into your very being. It was as if the words “dirty slut” were emblazoned across your skin, a silent condemnation that followed you everywhere. No matter where you went, the eyes of judgment seemed to follow, their silent accusations piercing your already wounded soul.

At school, you had withdrawn into yourself, a stark contrast to the lively girl you once were. You spoke to no one, even when you went to church, you avoiding Ellie, Tommy, and Maria. After class, you would rush home, seeking refuge in the solitude that had become both your sanctuary and your prison. Only Joel knew the truth of what had happened that night, and he had been your anchor in the storm.

After that night, you stayed at Joel’s. He had been nothing but gentle, his touch a stark contrast to the violence you had endured. He cleaned you up, gave you a bath, and ensured your privacy by standing near the tub with the curtain drawn, only intervening if you needed something. The care he showed you was the kind of protection you had longed for all your life. His presence was a balm to your wounded spirit, his protectiveness a shield against the darkness that threatened to consume you.

The morning after, you insisted on walking home, despite Joel’s offer to drive you. Your house was nearby, but in your daze, you had forgotten to inform your parents where you had been. As you walked through the front door, your father’s fury was immediate. "Where have you been?" he demanded, his voice a thunderous roar. "You didn’t tell us you were staying out. Do you have any idea how worried we were?"

"I stayed at Ellie’s," you lied, your voice barely above a whisper. "If you don’t believe me, you can call Joel."

Without hesitation, your father dialed Joel’s number. You stood there, heart pounding, as Joel answered. "Yes, she stayed with Ellie here last night," Joel confirmed, his voice steady. He kept his promise not to reveal the incident with Jamie, but your father’s anger was far from assuaged.

"Even so," your father raged, "you didn’t inform us. What’s next? You’ll become a whore, wandering the streets? Is that what you want?" His words cut deep, each one a dagger plunging into your already shattered heart. He berated you about the virtues of Christianity, reminding you of the sanctity of purity and obedience.

"You need to understand the importance of your faith," he lectured, his voice a relentless drone. "You must remain pure and obedient, not fall into sin like this."

You stood there, numb, the weight of his words adding to the already unbearable burden on your shoulders. The guilt and shame threatened to overwhelm you. Every word felt like another chain, binding you in your own personal hell.

"Take off your shirt and face the wall," your father ordered, his voice cold and commanding.

With trembling hands, you did as he said, the shirt you borrowed from Ellie slipping to the floor. You turned to the wall, feeling the roughness of the paint against your skin, a stark contrast to the softness you craved. Your father took his belt, the leather a familiar implement of punishment, and began to strike.

Each lash was a searing reminder of your perceived sins, each word of his condemnation a nail in the coffin of your spirit. "This is for your disobedience," he spat, the belt cracking against your skin. "This is for the whore you’re becoming."

You bit back your cries, the tears streaming down your face silently. You were too exhausted to scream, too broken to protest. The pain was overwhelming, but it felt deserved. In your mind, this was God’s punishment for your unholiness, a penance for the dirtiness you couldn’t wash away.

Your mother watched from the doorway, her eyes filled with helplessness. She didn’t intervene, just as she never had. Instead, she retreated to the living room, turning up the volume on the gospel music to drown out the sound of your father’s anger and your silent suffering.

With each strike, you closed your eyes, the pain coursing through you like fire. You envisioned yourself as a fallen angel, wings torn and bloodied, cast out from the grace you once knew. The purity you had cherished was gone, replaced by a deep, unending shame.

When it was over, you collapsed to the floor, your body trembling with the aftershocks of pain. You felt like a martyr, bearing the weight of your father’s righteousness, the gospel music a cruel hymn to your suffering. You were unworthy, unholy, and the punishment was your penance.

As you lay there, tears mingling with the cold floor, you prayed. Not for forgiveness, but for strength. "God, if You’re listening, help me endure this. Help me find a way to survive." Your prayer was a whisper in the storm, a desperate plea from a soul that had known too much darkness.

In that moment, you understood the depth of your isolation. Your purity was gone, your light extinguished, but a spark of defiance remained. You had survived this night, just as you had survived Jamie. And somehow, you would find a way to keep surviving, to reclaim the light that had been stolen from you.

***

The days that followed were a blur of silence and shadows. You moved through the house like a ghost, your presence barely acknowledged by your parents. Your father’s words echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of your perceived worthlessness. Every glance in the mirror revealed the invisible brand of shame you felt etched into your skin. You had become a stranger to yourself, lost in a labyrinth of guilt and self-loathing.

At school, you withdrew further into yourself, avoiding everyone’s gaze. Ellie noticed your absence, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain. The weight of your secret was too heavy to share, the fear of judgment too great. You walked the halls with your head down, each step a reminder of the burden you carried.

A month had gone by, and now it was Sunday. The weight of another church service loomed over you. You had managed to somewhat regain a semblance of normalcy, but the shadows of that night continued to haunt you. Despite the slight improvement, you had been avoiding everyone, including Joel. His calls went unanswered, and you took alternate routes to avoid passing his house. The shame you felt was overwhelming. You had developed feelings for Joel, but you believed he would never want you now that you felt so dirty.

Joel, on the other hand, was deeply worried about you. His concern grew with each passing day. He would occasionally ask Tommy if he had seen you at church, but Tommy’s answers never provided the comfort Joel sought.

The night before Sunday, Joel decided to visit Tommy and Maria with Ellie, hoping to have a casual movie night. He needed an excuse to ask about you without raising suspicions.

As they settled in the living room, Tommy was setting up the movie. Joel took a seat next to him, glancing around at the familiar surroundings. Ellie and Maria were chatting in the kitchen, preparing snacks.

"So, how’ve things been?" Joel asked, trying to keep his tone light. "Busy with the kid, I bet."

Tommy chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, you know how it is. Little one keeps us on our toes. What about you? How's work been?"

"Same old, same old," Joel replied, leaning back in his chair. "Ellie's doing good in school, keeping me busy with all her activities."

Tommy smiled. "That’s good to hear. She’s a great kid."

Joel nodded, then took a deep breath, trying to steer the conversation. "Yeah, speaking of kids... you seen Gibson girl around lately? Maybe at church? Haven't seen her passing by my home."

Tommy frowned, scratching his head. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I haven't seen her at church either. And she's usually always around."

Joel tried to keep his voice casual, not wanting to raise suspicion. "Right," Joel answered, but his thoughts were far from the conversation at hand. He couldn't shake the image of you from his mind—the pain in your eyes, the way you had avoided him, the way your voice trembled when you last spoke. Every unanswered call, every sight of your empty path gnawed at him, filling him with a deep, gnawing worry.

He replayed that night over and over, the way you had clung to him, the way he had tried to provide comfort without crossing any lines. He had never felt so helpless, so desperate to protect someone, yet so unsure of how to do it. His heart ached with the thought of you suffering alone, believing you were dirty or unworthy.

"Joel?" Tommy's voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. Joel blinked, realizing he had completely zoned out.

"Huh? What?" Joel said, shaking his head to clear the fog of worry. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Tommy gave him a curious look, tilting his head slightly. "I was asking if you wanted more popcorn, but you seemed a million miles away. Everything alright?"

Joel forced a smile, trying to mask the anxiety that churned within him. "Yeah, sorry just got a lot on my mind. But yeah, more popcorn sounds good."

Tommy didn't seem entirely convinced, but he let it go, standing up to refill the bowl. Joel watched him go, taking the moment to gather himself. He needed to find a way to reach you, to make sure you were alright without raising too much suspicion. The worry gnawed at him, a constant presence in the back of his mind.

As the movie continued, Joel found it hard to focus. His thoughts kept drifting back to you, hoping that you were finding some measure of peace, even as he felt his own slipping further away.

As the sun rose on Sunday, you prepared yourself with a painstaking precision. The morning light seemed to cast an unforgiving glow on your efforts, illuminating every detail of your attire and makeup. You adorned yourself in a soft yellow dress, a stark contrast to the stained white dress you had left behind—a symbol of a past tainted by invisible scars. Your hair was styled meticulously, and a light touch of makeup tried to mask the weariness in your eyes. It was as if you were trying to paint over the shadows that clung to you, hoping that the brightness of the yellow might somehow wash away the stains of your recent past.

Your father was adamant about you joining the service, and the pressure of his expectations weighed heavily on you. The town would be present, as it always was for these occasions, their curious eyes a stark reminder of your recent absence. You could feel their gazes, and you braced yourself for the inevitable scrutiny. The anticipation of stepping into the public eye once more was almost suffocating.

When you arrived at the church, you noticed Tommy and Maria’s car parked nearby, a sight that barely registered in your anxious state. But as you turned, your heart seemed to freeze. There, behind Tommy’s car, was a familiar truck—a vehicle you hadn’t expected to see in such a context. It was Joel’s truck.

Your breath hitched in your throat. Joel had decided to return to church after years of absence. The scene before you was a tableau of mixed emotions: the congregation’s whispers, the look of surprise on Tommy’s face, and your father’s exuberant welcome of Joel. The church buzzed with curiosity, and every eye seemed to turn toward Joel and the unexpected presence he brought with him. Your father’s enthusiasm was palpable as he greeted Joel, his gestures warm and welcoming. Tommy smiled, clearly pleased to see his brother, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You, on the other hand, felt an overwhelming urge to disappear. The thought of facing Joel was almost too much to bear. The last time you had seen him, everything had been different. The thought of him seeing you in your current state, a mix of shame and unresolved feelings, was unbearable. You moved swiftly to avoid his gaze, slipping through the crowd like a wisp of smoke.

Joel's presence was a silent declaration of concern and hope. His return to the church was more than a gesture; it was an effort to reconnect, to understand why you had vanished so abruptly from his life. He couldn’t risk coming to your house and questioning your parents directly, as that would have been too conspicuous. Instead, he chose this public setting, hoping it might offer a chance to see you, to gauge your well-being without drawing undue attention.

Tommy and Ellie had been startled by Joel’s decision to attend church after all these years. To them, it was an unspoken mystery, a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit with the past patterns they knew. Tommy’s curiosity was evident, though he kept his questions at bay, respecting Joel’s unspoken wish for discretion.

As the service began, the room was filled with the familiar hymns and prayers. The sounds of the congregation’s voices blended into a backdrop of solemnity and devotion. You sat through the service, your mind a turbulent sea of emotions, while Joel’s presence at the back of the church was a constant, heavy reminder of your own turmoil.

Joel, despite his own feelings of discomfort in this sacred space, kept his gaze low, trying to remain unobtrusive. His concern for you overshadowed the solemnity of the service, his heart aching with the desire to reach out, to offer solace, but restrained by the fear of overstepping. The echoes of the sermon, the rustle of prayer books, and the collective murmur of the congregation seemed distant, as if you were trapped in a bubble of your own distress.

After the Sunday service, the church transformed into a space of community and fellowship. Tables were set up with an array of homemade dishes, and the congregation gathered for a communal meal. The aroma of comfort food filled the air, mingling with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of plates. It was a time for members of the congregation to connect, share news, and strengthen their bonds.

You moved through the gathering with practiced grace, helping your mother and father arrange the food and interact with the attendees. Your smile was a well-practiced mask, concealing the turmoil that churned beneath. You greeted old friends and acquaintances, your responses polite but distant. The effort to maintain this façade was exhausting, but you felt it was necessary to avoid further scrutiny.

As you made your way to the storage room in the church, a quiet refuge away from the bustling hall, you found yourself alone. The clamor of the gathering seemed a world away, and the space was filled with the scent of dust and old paper. You were organizing a stack of donation boxes when you heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching.

Turning around, you saw Joel standing in the doorway. His presence was like a sudden storm cloud on an otherwise clear day—unexpected and overwhelming. He looked at you with a mixture of concern and apprehension, his rugged face lined with worry. The weight of his gaze was almost palpable, and it seemed as though he was struggling to find the right words.

“Hey,” Joel said, his voice low and gravelly. He took a hesitant step forward, his hands stuffed into his pockets. The usual gruffness in his tone was softened by the underlying worry.

You shifted uncomfortably, caught off guard by his appearance. “Joel,” you managed to reply, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions welling up inside you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Joel looked around the small room, as if searching for the right way to start the conversation. “Yeah, well,” he began, his gaze falling back on you. “I’ve been—” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “I’ve been worried about you. Haven’t seen you around much. I wanted to see if you’re okay.”

His words were simple, yet they carried the weight of his genuine concern. Joel was a man of action rather than words, and his struggle to articulate his feelings only highlighted how much he cared. He took another step closer, his eyes searching yours for a sign of how you were really doing.

“Joel,” you said, your voice trembling slightly, “did you come to church just for this? I’m fine. Really.”

Joel’s expression softened, but his concern remained palpable. “I’ve been tryin’ to reach you, and you’ve been avoidin’ me. It’s not like you to just disappear. I need to know—are you really okay?” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his worry. You looked away, struggling to find the right response. “I’ve just been dealing with things,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I needed some time.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, his concern deepening. " You’ve been missin’ from school, from church, from everythin’. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been keepin’ your distance."

You felt a pang of guilt at his words, the truth of your situation pressing heavily on your heart. “I'm fine, Joel” you said, struggling to keep your composure.

Joel’s gaze remained steady, a mixture of frustration and concern etched into his features. “Why’ve you been avoidin’ me?” he asked, his voice a blend of urgency and care. “You can’t keep runnin’ away from this. You keep pushin’ me away.”

You felt a sharp pang of guilt at his words, your heart twisting in your chest. The shame and the weight of your feelings made it difficult to meet his eyes. “I just—” you began, your voice faltering. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want you to see how... broken I am.”

Joel’s expression softened, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and tenderness. “What are you talkin’ about?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not broken. You’re still you. You don’t have nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

His words were a balm to your wounded spirit, yet the weight of your shame still felt suffocating. You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. “But I’ve changed,” you said, your voice cracking. “I feel like I’m not who I was before. I feel... dirty. Like I’m not even me anymore.”

Joel’s eyes softened as he noticed the tremble in your voice, the tears that began to fall. Without a second thought, he closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, reassuring embrace. His touch was warm and steady, a stark contrast to the cold grip of your shame.

As he held you, Joel let his guard down, something he rarely allowed himself to do. The strength in his arms was a shield against the world, a sanctuary where you could momentarily escape the torment you had been living through. The gentle rise and fall of his chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing, provided a grounding comfort. This was more than a physical embrace; it was a silent promise of protection, akin to the way he had once shielded Ellie and Sarah.

“It’s alright,” Joel murmured into your hair, his voice low and soothing. “It’s not your fault, it's not your fault. Everything's gonna be alright, babygirl."

His words were like a balm to the raw wounds of your spirit, yet the weight of your emotions still felt heavy. You could sense the sincerity in his voice, a quiet strength that contrasted sharply with the tumult of your inner world. In his embrace, you could almost imagine the weight of your shame lifting, if only for a moment.

After a while, you slowly pulled away from Joel’s comforting hold, grateful for his presence. “Thank you, Joel,” you said softly, wiping away the remnants of your tears. Joel, ever the pragmatist, decided to lighten the mood with one of his characteristic jokes.

“You know,” he said with a crooked smile, “cryin’ like that might just mess up your makeup. And we wouldn’t want you lookin’ like a raccoon now, would we?”

His playful jest brought a genuine smile to your face, a rare and fleeting moment of joy. Joel’s eyes softened as he saw you smile, his own expression a mix of relief and affection. “That’s right, like that, doll,” he said, his voice warm.

He gently cupped your face, his rough fingers brushing away the last traces of tears. “You’re stronger than you think. Just gotta give yourself some credit. You ain’t broken, not by a long shot.”

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps approached, and your mother appeared at the doorway of the storage room. Her cheerful voice cut through the tension. “Sweetheart, what’s taking so long? Did you find everything?”

You and Joel quickly pulled away from each other, making a show of straightening up and wiping your faces. “Umm, yes mother, I-I found it,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Your mother’s eyes fell on Joel, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Joel? What are you doing here?”

Joel cleared his throat, trying to mask the unease in his voice. “Hey, Evelyn, I, uh, just looking around the church again. Almost forgot how it looks from the inside, you know? It’s been a while.”

Your mother, ever the bubbly personality, clapped her hands together. “Oh, that’s wonderful! We’re so glad to see you back. You know, you should come more often. It’s always nice to have you around. It’s been such a long time!”

Joel nodded, his eyes flicking back to you with a hint of concern. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. Just felt like catching up with old times.”

Your mother beamed at Joel, her enthusiasm unwavering. “Well, that’s fantastic. You must join us for some of the refreshments afterward. It’s a potluck today, and there’s plenty of food. Everyone’s been asking about you.”

Joel gave a polite smile, trying to hide his discomfort. “Sure thing. I’ll stick around for a bit.”

As your mother continued to chat with Joel, her cheerful demeanor filling the room with a lightness that contrasted sharply with the earlier tension, you took the opportunity to discreetly collect yourself. You adjusted your dress and smoothed out your makeup, trying to regain your composure.

Joel, noticing the change in your demeanor, shot you a small, reassuring smile before turning his attention back to your mother.

Your mother excuse herself to go out but lookback to you, “Oh, sweetheart, I almost forgot. We need help with the setup for the refreshments,”

You quickly nodded. “Yes, I’ll take care of it, Mama." and she went to outside.

You and Joel moved outside too, where the atmosphere of the church’s potluck was in full swing. The laughter and chatter of the congregation filled the air, mingling with the scent of freshly baked goods and savory dishes. Joel, despite his unease, tried to adapt to the social scene, engaging with the women who flocked to him. He was a striking figure, with his salt-and-pepper beard and intense brown eyes that had a rugged charm to them. The women, clearly drawn to his distinguished appearance and the success he embodied, tried to catch his attention, though Joel’s discomfort was palpable. He offered polite smiles and brief responses, all the while his gaze frequently wandered back to you.

You moved among the congregation, offering refreshments and engaging in small talk, your presence like a breath of fresh air amidst the busier, more boisterous interactions. To Joel, you appeared as a serene vision—an innocent beauty despite everything. There was something ethereal about you, a delicate grace that made you stand out among the crowd. Your yellow dress seemed to shimmer with a soft glow, as if capturing the very essence of spring's first light.

Joel’s eyes lingered on you, the sight of your genuine smile and the way you interacted with others tugging at something deep within him. You were like a lone daisy in a field of wildflowers, untouched by the wilting sun. His admiration for you was undeniable, though it was mingled with concern and protectiveness.

Suddenly, as you were handing out refreshments, he noticed a boy approaching you. He moved with a kind of familiar swagger, and Joel’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized him—Jamie Lee. The sight of Jamie sent a shiver down Joel’s spine, and a protective instinct surged through him. He watched, tense and alert, as Jamie neared you.

Jamie’s presence was like a shadow falling over your radiant light. Joel’s gaze hardened, his focus narrowing. He could see the unease in your posture, the way you instinctively took a step back. The fear in your eyes was palpable, and it made Joel’s fists clench at his sides.

Joel, unable to stand idly by, started making his way towards you. His movements were deliberate and calculated, every step driven by a fierce determination to protect you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before turning back to Jamie. The confrontation had left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you approached him with a cold, composed demeanor.

Jamie, noticing your icy response, shifted uncomfortably. “Hey,” he started, his voice trying to sound casual but laced with an apologetic tone. “I didn’t mean to, you know, I was just—”

"Get off from my face," you said quietly doesn't want to make a scene.

amie’s face twisted into a desperate mask of fear as he took another step closer. “Look, I’m really sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “Just... just listen to me. I didn’t mean to—”

“Get off from my face,” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper but sharp as a blade. Your hands trembled slightly as you tried to push him away, but Jamie persisted, his fear morphing into a desperate, unsettling urgency. “Please, just leave me alone.”

Jamie’s panic grew. He began to reach out, trying to grab your arm. “You don’t understand. I need you to—”

Before he could touch you, Joel’s imposing figure appeared, his presence radiating a quiet, intimidating authority. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation, the protective instincts within him coming to the forefront. “What’s goin’ on here?” Joel’s voice was steady, yet carried a dangerous edge that made Jamie freeze.

Jamie’s eyes widened in recognition. “Mr. Miller!” he stammered, backing away slightly. “I—uh—”

Joel’s gaze shifted to you, noticing the fear and distress on your face. He took a step closer to you, his body language radiating both calm and control. “Gibson, you alright?” he asked softly, his voice a reassuring balm amidst the tension.

You nodded, though your face was pale and your eyes betrayed the turmoil within. “Yes, I’m fine. Just... I need to go," You trying to gave Joel a smile and then walk away continue what you were doing.

Joel watched you walk away, his protective instincts still simmering beneath the surface. Once you were out of sight, Joel turned his full attention back to Jamie, his expression hardening.

“Hey, Jamie,” Joel said, his voice low and controlled. “How’s your old man? Still keepin’ busy with the firm?”

Jamie seemed to relax slightly, though his eyes still flicked nervously between Joel and the direction you had gone. “Uh, yeah, he’s doing alright,” Jamie replied, trying to sound casual. “Still busy as ever. You know how it is.”

Joel’s gaze was unwavering, a subtle intensity in his eyes that Jamie seemed to sense but couldn’t quite place. “And what about you? What’ve you been up to lately?”

Jamie fidgeted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, just... you know, school and stuff. Nothing too exciting.”

Joel nodded slowly, maintaining a calm exterior while his mind worked through his options. “Right, right. Well, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you around. Thought I’d come back to the old church, see how things are goin’.”

Jamie’s eyes darted nervously. “Yeah, it’s been a while,” he said, his voice faltering. “So, uh, what brings you back? I thought you hadn’t been around for years.”

Joel’s smile was tight, the warmth of it not quite reaching his eyes. “Just felt like it was time to reconnect. Thought I’d check in on the old place, you know?"

Jamie seemed to relax a bit more, although his discomfort lingered. “Yeah, well, it’s good to see you,” he said awkwardly. “Things are... different, but you know how it is.”

Joel’s gaze remained steady, a quiet storm of thoughts behind his calm facade. “Yeah, I know how it is,” he said, his tone measured. “Well, Jamie, I’m glad we had a chance to catch up. I'll see you around,"

Jamie’s face was a mask of confusion and relief as he nodded quickly. “Yeah, see you around, Mr. Miller.”

As Jamie walked away, Joel’s eyes followed him, a thoughtful frown settling on his face. He knew there was more beneath the surface, and he was determined to uncover it, but for now, he kept his thoughts to himself.

Joel took a deep breath, his gaze returning to where you had disappeared. He knew that protecting you and making sure you felt safe was his priority now. The façade of casual conversation was just that—a façade.

Joel watched you slip away from the crowd, a cloud of worry settling over him. His thoughts were a maelstrom of concern and determination, but before he could follow, he was waylaid by several familiar faces. They were eager to catch up, their questions and greetings a barrier he couldn’t easily cross. He tried to be polite, nodding and offering half-hearted responses, all the while his mind remained focused on you.

Meanwhile, you navigated the church grounds with a heavy heart, your steps driven by a desperate need for solitude. You approached your father with a feigned urgency. “Papa, I need to leave early. I have a test tomorrow and I need a book from the library,” you said, your voice trembling slightly but with a determined edge.

Your father, engrossed in the after-church festivities, waved you off with little more than a distracted nod. “Alright, just be back before dark,” he called after you, his attention already shifting back to the conversation he was engaged in.

With a sigh of relief, you made your way to the edge of the church grounds, your thoughts a tangled mess of despair and shame. The path to the lake felt like a journey through an emotional wilderness. Each step seemed to echo the emptiness inside you, the trees and underbrush closing in like the walls of your own confinement.

As you walked, the weight of your thoughts felt like an oppressive fog, obscuring any sense of clarity or peace. The forest surrounding the path seemed to mirror your inner turmoil—dark, tangled, and impenetrable. The chirping of distant birds and the rustling leaves became a muted symphony to your solitary reflection, their sounds like distant whispers of a world you felt disconnected from.

Reaching the lake, you sank down onto the grassy bank, the weight of the past weeks pressing heavily on your shoulders. The water’s surface was a mirror of your own fractured soul—rippled and distorted, reflecting the tangled mess of your emotions. You fished out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a flask from beneath your jacket, your hands shaking slightly. The cigarettes were a crutch, a way to cope with the stress that had become almost unbearable.

Lighting a cigarette, you took a long drag, the smoke curling up into the air like a wisp of your own troubles being released. You retrieved the flask, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig of the whiskey you had managed to sneak away. The warmth of the alcohol spread through you, a fleeting comfort in the midst of your turmoil. It was a bitter solace, a way to dull the sharp edges of your pain, but it never truly erased the deep ache within.

The lake, now dimming in the encroaching twilight, seemed to embrace your solitude. Its surface reflected the last rays of sunlight, shimmering like scattered fragments of hope amidst the darkness. You leaned back, the grass beneath you soft and cool, the calmness of the lake providing a deceptive sense of tranquility.

As you looked out over the water, your thoughts drifted like the gentle ripples across the lake’s surface. The recent events played out in your mind like a series of shadowy figures, each one a reminder of how your life had spiraled into this moment of isolation and despair. You clung to the fleeting moments of numbness provided by the whiskey and smoke, trying to drown out the crushing weight of your reality.

Joel, meanwhile, managed to extricate himself from the crowd of well-wishers. His concern for you was a constant pull, a magnetic force guiding him towards you. As he scanned the area around the church, his eyes caught sight of your disappearing figure, and he felt a renewed urgency to follow.

The lake stretched out before you, its surface a placid mirror reflecting the fading light of day. The gentle rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds seemed like distant echoes compared to the chaos in your mind. You lay on the grass, feeling the cool, damp earth beneath you, and the weight of Jamie Lee’s presence still heavy on your soul. Each ripple in the lake's surface seemed to mimic the turbulent waves of your thoughts—crashing, receding, only to rise again with relentless force.

You had managed to slip away from the crowd, the world around you feeling far removed from the comforting isolation you sought. As you stared out over the lake, the thoughts of Jamie’s unwelcome reappearance, the haunting memories, and the crushing fear of being trapped in this endless cycle of pain and shame twisted through your mind. You were desperate for a way out, a new beginning, a place where you could shed the weight of your past and start anew. But for now, all you could do was lie there, the whispers of the forest around you a faint consolation against the storm within.

Then, breaking through the oppressive silence, a voice reached you. "Thought I found you here."

The sound of Joel’s voice was a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside. You turned slowly, your heart pounding as you saw him emerging from the trees. His presence was a tether to reality, grounding you amidst the chaos. His gaze was soft but intense, filled with a concern that seemed to pierce through the veil of your anguish.

Joel walked over to you with deliberate steps, his expression a mix of determination and empathy. He settled beside you on the grass, his body language a silent promise of protection and understanding. The familiarity of his presence was both a comfort and a reminder of the stark contrast between your own inner darkness and his unwavering support.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with genuine worry.

You didn’t immediately respond, the weight of your emotions rendering you almost speechless. The silence stretched between you, a fragile bridge spanning the gap between your fractured state and his steady presence. Joel’s eyes, dark and intense, held yours with an unwavering focus, as if trying to read the secrets written in your sorrow.

“I don’t know how to make it stop,” you finally said, your voice trembling. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart, and I keep trying to run away from it. But every time I think I’m getting away, it all just catches up with me.”

Joel’s expression was a mix of deep concern and frustration as he watched you struggle to keep your composure. “I’m here for you,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight of earnest reassurance.

As Joel reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, you flinched as though struck, your body reacting involuntarily to the touch. Joel pulled his hand back, a flash of confusion crossing his face. “Hey, what’s goin’ on?” he asked, his tone gentler now. “What’s wrong?”

You quickly shook your head, trying to mask the truth. “It’s nothing, Joel. I’m fine,” you insisted, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your distress.

Joel’s eyes narrowed with concern. It was clear to him that there was more to your reaction than you were letting on. “You’re not fine,” he said firmly. “You're hidin' something, let me see your back,"

“I’m fine, Joel,” you insisted, trying to back away from him. Your voice was steadier now, but your heart was racing.

Joel’s face was set in grim determination. “No, you’re not. If you don’t show me, I’m gonna keep pushin’. I can see it in your eyes—you’re in pain, and I need to know why.”

When you continued to resist, Joel’s frustration reached its peak. “You gotta trust me,” he said, his voice harsh but filled with a desperate edge.

Unable to bear his insistence any longer, you shouted, “Joel, stop! I said I’m fine!” The raw pain and fear in your voice were undeniable, and Joel’s eyes softened for a moment, but his resolve remained unshaken.

Joel’s expression hardened. “I’m not lettin’ this go,” he said firmly. He gently but firmly reached for the hem of your dress, pulling it down further to expose the scars on your back. His movements were deliberate and careful, but his eyes were filled with a cold intensity that brooked no argument.

As he revealed the cruel marks etched into your skin, his anger became more apparent. His gaze swept over the scars—long, angry lines, some still raw and others faded but no less painful. Each mark told a story of suffering, and Joel’s jaw clenched in response.

Joel’s eyes darkened, his voice strained with barely controlled rage. “Who did this to you?” he asked, his tone growing colder with each word. “Who did this to you?"

"It's... It's my father," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. The confession felt like a stone lodged in your throat, its weight choking you.

Joel closed his eyes momentarily, fighting to contain the storm of anger threatening to erupt. His fists clenched at his sides, his jaw working as he muttered curses under his breath. The fury simmering just below the surface was palpable.

“How long has this been goin’ on?” he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion. “How long have you been dealin’ with this?”

“Since forever,” you said quietly, your shoulders sagging under the weight of your admission.

"Does your mother know?" Joel asked, you nodded.

“My mother knows, but she’s too scared to do anything. It’s... ironic, really. Just a few months ago, he was giving advice to Tommy about parenting, acting like some holy figure, but he's nothing but a hypocrite.” You try to lighten up.

Joel’s face contorted with a mix of disbelief and disgust. He stood abruptly, his movements sharp and decisive.

You scrambled to your feet, desperation gripping you. “Joel, where are you going?! please,” you said, your voice trembling. “Don’t do anything. Please, just let it be. This is my fault. I made him angry. I deserve this. Please, don’t make it worse. I can’t handle more trouble.”

Joel’s gaze was intense, his anger still visible but mixed with concern. “Are you fucking crazy?!” he shouted, his voice echoing across the still lake. “This ain’t your fault!” His outburst was raw, his frustration spilling over.

You flinched, your body instinctively drawing back from the intensity of his anger. The sudden surge of emotion was overwhelming, and you could feel the fear rise in your chest, a cold shiver racing down your spine.

Joel’s expression softened as he saw your reaction, his own anger faltering in the face of your fear. He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. “I’m sorry," he said, his voice rough but gentler now. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just... seeing what he’s done to you...”

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “I know, I know, Joel,” you whispered. “I just don’t know how to handle this. I’m scared, and I feel like everything’s falling apart.”

Joel’s eyes, usually so guarded, now reflected a rare vulnerability. “You don’t need to be scared,” he said, his voice softer, like a steady hand in the darkness. “I’m here for you."

The night air felt colder, but Joel’s presence was a warm, unspoken promise. His rough exterior hid a well of compassion, and though he struggled to find the right words, his actions spoke volumes. He gently pressed his forehead to yours, their breaths mingling in the space between them. “I’ll keep you safe,” he vowed, his voice a low murmur. “I promise,"

The contact of his forehead against yours was a silent, grounding connection. It was a gesture filled with the weight of his resolve and the depth of his commitment. The orange sky seemed to hold its breath, the world narrowing down to the two of you in that fragile moment of solace.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with confusion and vulnerability. “Why are you helping me like this?”

Joel pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching for the right words. He honestly didn’t know, not really, why he felt this way. Why the protective instinct was so strong, why his heart ached with a depth he hadn’t felt before. This wasn’t like his feelings for Ellie or Sarah; it was different, an enigma wrapped in the folds of his hardened exterior. He was trying to piece it together, to make sense of the emotions that seemed to defy all his usual defenses.

Inside your head, the sensation was equally foreign but profoundly powerful. It was as if, for the first time, you were standing on the edge of a cliff, gazing at an ocean of comfort and care you had only ever dreamed of. The feelings you had longed for, the protection and the tenderness, were now here, enveloping you like a warm, protective cocoon. The stark contrast between this new sense of safety and the pain you had endured made the emotions even more intense.

Joel’s presence was like a lighthouse in a storm, a beacon that cut through the darkness of your fears and insecurities. The connection between you was electric, a thread that wove itself into the very fabric of your being. It was as if every touch, every glance, was an echo of a deep-seated need for solace and understanding. In his gaze, you found not just protection but a promise of something more, something you had never allowed yourself to fully believe in.

As the sky deepened around you, the intimacy of the moment became undeniable. You wanted to close the distance, to feel the warmth of his lips against yours, to make this bond even more tangible. But there was a hesitation—a barrier of years and experiences, a chasm you weren’t sure you could or should cross. Joel was older, a figure who had always seemed out of reach, yet now he was the focal point of a desire that was both thrilling and terrifying.

In your mind, the longing was like a fragile flower blossoming in the dark—a tender, delicate thing that had been waiting for the right moment to bloom. You felt a pull toward him that went beyond mere comfort; it was a magnetic force that drew you closer, promising a kind of connection you hadn’t thought possible.

You wanted to kiss him, to bridge the gap between what was and what could be, but the uncertainty lingered. Would he reciprocate, or would the age difference and the complexities of your feelings stand in the way? The desire was there, shimmering like moonlight on still water, but you were unsure if this was a path you should walk or a dream too fragile to grasp.

Joel's presence was an anchor, grounding you in a moment of clarity and vulnerability. The depth of what you felt for him was new and frightening, like navigating a starless sea in search of a shore you hoped existed. In the silence that followed, you could almost hear the unspoken questions hanging in the air between you, a testament to the complex dance of emotion and need that neither of you could fully understand but both could feel.

Driven by the raw need to bridge the chasm between what was and what could be, you made a sudden, bold decision. You leaned in, closing the distance between you with a desperate and trembling kiss.

The moment your lips met his, Joel’s eyes widened in shock. He had not expected this, and for a heartbeat, he was paralyzed, caught between instinct and confusion. It felt like an electric jolt had surged through him, awakening something deep and primal. His heart raced, and his breath hitched as he processed the reality of your kiss.

But as the shock wore off, something else stirred within him—a burgeoning need that mirrored your own. The kiss, so raw and honest, ignited a flame that Joel had long kept buried under layers of grief and stoicism. He felt the world narrow to just the two of you, a universe where the complexities of age and propriety faded into insignificance.

Without fully realizing it, Joel responded with a fervor that surprised even him. His hands cupped your face gently but firmly, drawing you closer. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and passionate, a dance of newfound desire and connection. It was as if each touch, each movement, was a revelation, a discovery of a shared longing that neither of you had fully acknowledged until this very moment.

Joel's kiss was eager, almost desperate. The way he pulled you closer, the intensity of his touch—it was as if he was trying to anchor himself to this fragile but profound connection. His initial shock gave way to an overwhelming need to reciprocate, to explore the emotions that had been unearthed by your bold move.

For both of you, this kiss was a turning point, a leap into a new realm of intimacy and understanding. It was more than just physical; it was an acknowledgment of the depth of feeling that had been building between you. The night around you seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for this moment to solidify into something undeniably real.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your faces flushed with a mix of exhilaration and uncertainty. Joel’s gaze was softer now, his eyes reflecting a blend of awe and desire. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch tender.

“Doll,” Joel said, his voice a rough whisper as he pulled back slightly. “I’m sorry, Joel.” The realization of what had just happened washed over you like a cold wave, leaving you feeling vulnerable and uncertain.

Joel shook his head gently, his gaze steady and reassuring. “No, it’s okay,” he said, his tone firm yet tender. “It’s okay. you're alright, you'll be fine, I promise."

You nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. The sky was growing darker, the first hints of night casting long shadows across the lake. You knew you needed to head back before your father’s anger took a new form, a punishment you feared more than the quiet storm that had just passed between you and Joel.

Joel’s hand lingered on your shoulder, his grip warm and steady. “Do you want a ride back?” he asked, his concern evident.

“No, it’s alright,” you replied, shaking your head with a small, weary smile. “Just… go back to the church. Say goodbye to everyone, Joel.”

Joel hesitated, his expression a mix of reluctance and understanding. “Alright,” he said, but before turning to go, you couldn’t help but add a touch of humor to lighten the mood.

“Hey, are you gonna become a regular at the church again?” you said, forcing a grin. “You’ve been MIA for years, and now you show up just to connect with me? What’s next, a testimonial about divine intervention?”

Joel chuckled, the sound a rare and genuine escape from the weight of the moment. “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” he replied with a wry smile. “But maybe I’ll drop by once in a while, if only to make sure you’re still alright.”

You both shared a brief, understanding smile. It was a fleeting but comforting connection amidst the chaos of emotions and revelations.

Before parting ways, Joel gave you a warm hug, his embrace firm yet tender. He pulled back slightly and placed a soft kiss on your cheek, a gesture that carried more warmth and affection than words could convey. It was a promise, a silent vow of protection and care, even if he wasn’t entirely sure of the depths of his own feelings.

“Stay safe,” Joel said, his voice gentle but earnest. “I’ll see you around.”

As Joel walked away, his figure blending into the shadows, you turned and began your journey back home. The cool night air brushed against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth that Joel had left behind. The path ahead was dimly lit by the moonlight, each step resonating with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

In your mind, the night’s events replayed like a vivid dream. The touch of Joel’s hand, the tenderness of his kiss, and the tangled emotions you felt were all swirling together, creating a new and unfamiliar reality. You felt like you had crossed a threshold, where the lines between safety and danger, affection and fear, had become blurred.

The lake, once a silent witness to your sorrow, now seemed like a distant memory. It was as if you had left it behind, stepping into a new world where the echoes of the night and the promise of something different lingered like a soft whisper.

As you entered your home, the weight of the night’s revelations settled heavily on your shoulders. Each step felt like a delicate balance between the pain you had known and the uncertain hope that now lay ahead. Today had ended with its own kind of twilight, a space between the darkness of the past and the uncertain dawn of the future.

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euryalex · 1 year

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Baldur's Gate 3 Tav Ask List

May contain spoilers!! Please reblog!

• Origin & Class 1. What is their backstory and why did you choose it? 2. What is their class (+ subclass) and why did you choose it? 3. Do they multiclass? Why (not)? 4. Is there a reason why your Tav starts out as Level 1? 5. Does your Tav have family members? Are they close? 6. Does your Tav have any friends from their past? Are they still friends? 7. Does your Tav have connections to other characters (I.e.: NPCs)? 8. Where did your character live before the events of the game? 9. Does your Tav have a different class/race/origin than in the game? (I.e.: Your Tav is Aasimar, fisherman backstory ...) 10. What was your Tav like as a child?

• Prologue 11. What goes through your Tav's head when they wake up on the Nautiloid? Are they scared or do they push those feelings aside to focus on escaping? 12. How does your Tav feel about Us? Did they free them, maim them or leave them behind? 13. What was your Tav's first reaction to Lae'Zel? 14. What was your Tav's first reaction to Shadowheart? 15. Does your Tav use their Arcana knowledge to free Shadowheart or do they use the rune found in the next room? 16. Does your Tav help the mindflayer against Commander Zhalk or do they run straight to the helm? 17. Does your Tav's starting armor reflect them? If not, what would they wear instead? 18. If you could, would your Tav see any of the other companions? If so, how would they react? 19. What's your Tav's personality like at the start of the game? Does it change as the game goes on? 20. Finally, what does your Tav feel as the Nautiloid crashes? Are they scared? Are they thinking of a way to survive?

• Act 1 21. Which companion do you get first? If you get Shadowheart first no matter what, who's the second one? 22. What is your Tav's first impression of the other companions (Astarion, Gale, Karlach, Wyll ...) 23. What's their opinion of Emerald Grove? Do they help the tieflings or side with the druids? 24. How does your Tav feel about Mol and her friends? 25. What does your Tav think of Aradin? 26. What does your Tav think of the Raphael? 27. Does your Tav adopt Scratch and the Owlbear cub? Did you name him? 28. What does your Tav think of Auntie Ethel? What do they tell Mayrina? 29. What does your Tav do about the Goblin camp? Do they free Halsin or side with Minthara? What's their opinion of them? 30. Who does your Tav think of when they go to sleep at the goblin/tiefling party? Or are they lucky and do they get to spend the night with the person they want? 31. What does your Tav think of the Underdark and the Myconids? 32. Does your Tav help Glut or do they fight him? 33. Do you bring the potion ingredients to Omeluum and, if so, did you drink it? Did you barter for his ring? 34. Does your Tav react to the Sussur flower (Sorcerer) or how would they react if it affected them? 35. Do they deliver Nere's head to the Myconids and save the slaves? 36. Did your Tav fight the Forge Protector? How did the fight go for them? 37. Did your Tav go to Creche Y'llek? Did they know something was up with the healer? 38. Did your Tav deface the portrait of Vlaakith? 39. Did your Tav get the Blood of Lathandar? 40. Did your Tav agree to kill the Guardian or did they go talk to them instead?

• Act 2 41. Which way did they take? Did they run into Elminster? What was their opinion of his news for Gale? 42. How does your Tav react to the shadow curse? Are they scared of the dark? 43. What does your Tav think of Jaheira and the Harpers? 44. What does your Tav think of Isobel? 45. Does your Tav help Mol win against Raphael? 46. Does your Tav help Astarion make a deal with Raphael? 47. Does your Tav help Markus or do they warn Isobel? 48. Does your Tav steal the moonlantern from Kar'Niss or do they fight him? 49. How does your Tav react to Ketheric Thorm? What about his family (Gerringothe Thorm, Malus Thorm ...)? 50. Does your Tav save the tieflings & gnomes? 51. What does your Tav think of the Gauntlet of Shar? 52. What does your Tav think of Dame Aylin? 53. Did your Tav help Art Cullagh? 54. What did your Tav tell Arabella about her parents? 55. Did your Tav reunite with Us? 56. What did your Tav think of the Mindflayer colony? 57. Did your Tav free Zevlor? Did they free Mizora? 58. Did your Tav complete the Brain Node puzzle? 59. Did you use the Minds you find on the head near the brain node puzzle? 60. Did you clear Moonrise Towers of the shadow curse?

• Act 3 61. How does your Tav feel about Baldur's Gate? Is it their home? Is it their first time in the city? 62. What's their first impression when they enter Rivington? 63. If Shadowheart got a new haircut, how does your Tav react? 64. What does your Tav do with the trapped kids' toys? 65. Does your Tav go to the circus? Do they like the activities? 66. Does your Tav help with the murder investigation? 67. Does your Tav meet Tara? What's their opinion? 68. What does your Tav do with the Mindflayer in the windmill? 69. Does your Tav run into Orin? If so, what's their first opinion? 70. Does your Tav make a deal with Raphael? 71. Does your Tav 'spend time' at Sharess' Caress? 72. How does your Tav enter the city? 73. Do they free Florrick? 74. What do they do at Gortash' coronation? 75. What does your Tav do with the serial killer running rampant? 76. Does your Tav tell Dame Aylin about Lorroaken? Do they help her fight him? 77. Does your Tav go to the House of Hopes? If so, do they sleep with Haarlep? 78. Does your Tav help the Wavemother? 79. Does your Tav rescue the prisoners in the Iron Throne? 80. Does your Tav free the slaves from Steel Watch Foundry? Do they side with the Gondians or with Wulbren? 81. If you saved Oskar in Act 1, did you meet him again? If so, did you help him? Did you side with the Mystic Carrion or with Thrumbo? 82. What does your Tav do with the Counting House robbery? 83. Does your Tav reunite with Mayrina? Do they fight Auntie Ethel? Do they save Vanra? 84. Does your Tav find all of Dribbles' body parts? 85. Who did Orin abduct from your party? 86. Did your Tav complete the trial of Bhaal? 87. Did your Tav side with Gortash or did they agree to kill him for Orin? 88. Does your Tav successfully resist the Nether Brain? 89. Does your Tav side with the Emperor or do they free Orpheus? Do they become Illithid to use the Nether Stones or does one of their companions do it? Do they give the Nether Stones to the Emperor/Orpheus? 90. Do they betray the Emperor/Orpheus/their companions for the Absolute?

• Epilogue 91. Does your Tav get a happily ever after? 92. Where does your Tav end up after defeating/siding with the Nether Brain? 93. What do you think happens to the party, afterwards? Do they go for drinks? Do they go their separate ways? 94. Years after the game, what do you think your Tav is up to? 95. What do you think of your Tav's development throughout the game? If you compared them to who they were at the start, what would be different?

• Companions 96. Does Lae'Zel remain loyal to Vlaakith, or does she follow Orpheus? Or neither? 97. Does Astarion kill Cazador? Does he remain a vampire spawn or does he complete the ritual? 98. What does Gale want? The crown for himself? For Mystra? Or has he given up on chasing power? 99. Did Wyll get freed from Mizora? Did he save his father? 100. Did Karlach get upgraded? Did she turn Illithid? Did she return to Avernus? If so, did Tav join her, or Wyll, or both? 101. Did your Tav recruit Minsc? What's their opinion of him? 102. Did Shadowheart turn to Selûne or did she remain loyal to Shar? Did she free her parents or let them go? 103. Did Tav help Jaheira with the Harpers? 104. Who did your Tav romance? How did this romance develop throughout the game? What happened at the end?

105. Anything you want to say about your Tav! Give a random headcanon, answer a random question, say whatever you want!

#Baldur's Gate 3 #Baldur's Gate 3 Spoilers #BG3 Spoilers #Ask list #OC Ask list #long post sorry

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novaursa · 11 days

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Bonsoir Madame

Can I have a fem!hightower x grayne x Criston

Where she’s Alicent younger sister, she grow up most her life in king’s landing. Ser Criston is kinda obsessed with her, he’s her knight so he had to protect her always. And one night when he’s standing behind her door, he clearly hears her make her little business. But when he try to watch he find out that she’s with her own brother Gwayne.

H eventually confronted her (that little bitch had no shame to thinks is superior and attack someone..) but Gwayne came to her rescue and with all his sarcasm make him shut up

Behind the Chamber Door

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Ser Criston was appointed to guard you by your sister, Queen Alicent herself. He overhears something that makes him confront both you and his heart’s desire.

- Paring: Gwayne Hightower/hightower!reader/Criston Cole

- Note: The reader is Gwayne's and Alicent's younger sister.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne

The night is heavy with silence, broken only by the occasional flicker of torchlight outside your chambers. The faint glow bathes the stone walls in a soft, wavering light, casting long shadows that dance across the floor. Criston Cole stands vigilant, a statue clad in gleaming armor. He has always been there, lingering outside your door—Alicent’s loyal shield, your appointed protector. His presence is supposed to offer comfort, but lately, his gaze feels too watchful, too piercing. You feel his eyes on you whenever you pass, but tonight it is different.

Tonight, he heard.

The muffled sounds from your chamber had not been intended for any ears beyond your own and your brother's. Gwayne, your beloved brother, had left not long ago, slipping back into the quiet corridors of the Red Keep. The door had closed behind him, but the echo of his presence still lingered—along with the heat of his touch. You knew you shouldn't feel this way about him, but you couldn't help it. You had always shared an unusual closeness, one that had grown into something far more dangerous.

The weight of that intimacy presses against your chest even now as you sit on the edge of your bed, still breathless from his visit. Your heart pounds as you think of Gwayne’s whispered words, his touch—his love. But you are startled from your reverie by a sound at your door.

A sharp knock.

You rise, instinctively pulling your robe tighter around you. The door creaks open, and there stands Ser Criston Cole. His face is tense, jaw clenched, and there’s a look in his eyes that you have never seen before. He steps inside, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. The silence between you stretches taut, thick with unspoken words. His dark eyes are ablaze, and you know in that instant—he knows.

"You should be more careful," Criston says, his voice low and harsh. "The walls have ears, Y/N."

You feel your stomach drop, the fear prickling at the back of your neck. "Criston..." You start, but the words falter on your lips. His name sounds fragile in the charged air.

His gaze flicks toward the bed, then back to you. "You’ve made a mockery of your family’s name, of your own. Do you understand what you've done?"

His tone cuts like a blade, the weight of his accusation sinking deep. You swallow hard, trying to regain some sense of control. "You don’t understand."

"No," he interrupts, stepping closer, his face inches from yours now. His anger is palpable, his breathing ragged. "I understand perfectly. I heard everything." His voice drops, the words hissing through clenched teeth. "Your brother… Gwayne Hightower. You let him—"

He doesn't finish, the disgust in his voice enough to paint the image vividly in your mind.

Your heart races. You look away, unable to face the fury in his eyes. "It's not what you think," you manage, but even to you, the words sound hollow, unconvincing.

Criston’s hand comes up, grasping your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze. The touch is both gentle and commanding, a contradiction of the conflict within him. "You think I haven't seen the way he looks at you? The way you look at him?" His grip tightens slightly. "Do you think this is some game? A secret you can keep forever?"

You shudder, your breath catching. "And what would you have me do, Criston? Deny the feelings I have? Deny him?" The vulnerability in your voice betrays you. You want to resist, to push him away, but there's a part of you—somewhere deep down—that craves his attention, his anger.

His jaw tightens, his hand dropping from your chin, clenched now into a fist. "You don't understand," he whispers, his voice breaking, and for the first time, you see the struggle in his eyes—more than just his disgust, his duty. His own feelings are tearing him apart.

"Why?" you ask, your voice soft. "Why do you care so much?"

His eyes darken, and for a moment, he says nothing, the words caught in his throat. But then, finally, he breathes out, "Because... I care for you." The confession spills out like a dam breaking, raw and unguarded.

You freeze. Criston Cole—your sworn protector, the man bound by oath—cares for you. More than that, the way he looks at you now... it's more than duty, more than protection. It's something deeper, something dangerous.

"Ser Criston—" you begin, but before you can finish, the door swings open with a sharp creak. Gwayne strides in, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp as ever, taking in the scene. He sees Criston’s clenched fists, the tension in the air, and the way you stand frozen between them. A smirk curls at the corner of his lips, as if he finds the whole situation amusing.

"Ser Criston," Gwayne drawls, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Is this how you treat my sister? Should I be worried?" He steps between the two of you, placing a hand on your shoulder, possessive and casual all at once.

Criston stiffens, his eyes narrowing. "You should stop what you're doing before it's too late," he warns, voice trembling with barely suppressed anger.

But Gwayne only laughs softly, shaking his head. "Ah, Ser Criston. Always the righteous knight." His gaze shifts to you, softening. "Perhaps you’re jealous. Is that it? You wish to be in my place?"

Criston's face hardens, the words cutting deep, but he says nothing. The silence stretches again, heavy and suffocating.

Gwayne's grip on your shoulder tightens. "Go, Ser Criston. You’ve done your duty for the night." His voice is commanding now, dismissive.

For a moment, Criston hesitates, his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes meet yours one last time, searching, pleading, before he turns on his heel and storms out, the door slamming behind him.

Gwayne lets out a low chuckle, leaning in to kiss your temple. "He'll get over it," he whispers, his hand sliding down your arm. "He always does."

But you can't shake the feeling that nothing will be the same after tonight.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #alicent hightower #gwayne #gwayne x y/n #gwayne x you #gwayne x reader #criston x y/n #gwayne hightower #criston x you #criston x reader #ser criston cole #criston cole #hotd gwayne #hotd criston

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cobaltperun · 8 months

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Lost (16) - Night of the Hunter

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 5.5k

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark-

You lost count of how many times you looked at your phone in the last couple of hours, so you basically lost all the patience you had. You leaned on the kitchen counter and waited. "Come on, it's not that hard to pick up," you muttered as you tapped the fingers of your free hand on the kitchen counter, but much like the other two times you called earlier, Susan didn't answer her phone. "Hey, please call me when you see this, I'm getting worried. Ghostface is back, and I don't think you're in danger, but I'd feel better if you spent a few days at a neighbor's house or something," you decided to leave a message this time. "Be safe, love you, bye," you had no idea why you said those words, you never said them to Susan before, but somehow you just had the need to say them.

You should have said those words sooner, you loved Susan like a mother, hell she was the one and only person in the world you could consider your parent. You never said those words because you struggled to say them to anyone other than Tara. Years of only having a deep, emotional bond with Tara made it difficult to express yourself to anyone else, though you cared for a lot of people now. Well, a lot compared to before. You loved Susan, and Sam, and Chad and Mindy, and even though you didn’t know her for long, you loved Anika as well. But saying it, even casually, felt almost impossible. Yet now it just slipped out.

Susan was going to get shocked when she hears that. She knew you loved her, even without you telling her, but you knew she’d be happy to hear it.

"Susan still isn't answering her phone?" Tara approached you and you just nodded as she took your hand. If you weren't worried, you'd think the situation was funny, since the roles reversed as the day went on. When Susan first failed to answer her phone, you brushed it off as a hectic day at work and Tara was the one who got worried right away.

Then, when Susan didn't answer her phone the second time you found yourself assuring Tara she was okay, even if you were getting worried yourself. And now Tara was the one comforting you. "She's on the other side of the country, I doubt Ghostface would travel all the way to Sacramento," you said, but you could see the look in Tara's eyes. She saw right through you, sure, you wanted to reassure Tara as well, but those words, they were meant more for you. And you were still a hundred percent certain no one figured out she had anything to do with you.

"I'm sure she'll call you soon," Tara placed her hand on your left forearm, gently tracing random patterns across your skin. You relaxed significantly, choosing to remain in here and now with Tara instead of in different what-ifs your mind was making up. Tara wasn't the only one who found comfort and safety in your touches, you craved it just as much, relied on it just as much, so you placed your right hand on her waist and tugged her body closer to you. You just weren’t as obvious as she was, or well, at least it took some time for your friends to figure out it wasn’t just Tara that was touchy with you, so you guessed you weren’t as obvious.

Tara smiled softly as she let you pull her in. Her left hand caressed your cheek, and it was so minute you doubted anyone but you or Sam could notice it, but there was the slightest tremor in her touch. It was getting a bit cold. You raised the hand that was previously resting on Tara's waist and placed it over her left hand to warm it up. “I’d be lost without you,” you whispered, kissing her palm as she smiled, she didn’t need to say anything, her eyes told you all you needed to know, her eyes told you the feeling was mutual.

The sound of gagging made both of you roll your eyes, though you didn’t separate from one another. "This is why I couldn't take living with you. It's either drama or sickly sweet with you and I could somewhat handle the drama," Mindy was being Mindy, teasing and complaining even if you and Tara knew she was, deep down, happy for you two.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, go cuddle with Anika," you smirked at Tara's words. Granted, Mindy and Anika weren't as touchy as you and Tara, but they were fairly sweet as well.

“Ha! Don’t even try to pull that one, T, Anika sitting on my lap, or me sitting on her lap is as rare as you not sitting on Y/N’s lap,” Mindy fired back, luckily Tara was getting fairly immune to Mindy’s teasing.

‘There’s not much point in denying it,’ she told you one time when you got worried Mindy’s teasing went too far. Tara just made sure you understood that she didn’t care about the teasing as much as she used to. She was touchy, and clingy, and she couldn’t and wouldn’t even try to deny it. “I’m clingy and I’m proud, besides, who wouldn’t be in my position!” Tara declared boldly, and took a step back to gesture toward you with her hands.

You went to pour yourself a glass of water. “Maybe you should try snuggling with Anika more often, it’s relaxing to snuggle with someone you love,” you smirked before drinking a few sips of the water.

"Sure, I was going to do that, but you two missed my monologue, again," Mindy said, and you nodded a few times, silently accepting that this was happening. "Also, you were spared from Ethan's weird overshare that he's a virgin, and if we have to know so do you two," at that you had to groan.

"Not our business, Mindy," come on, you did not need to know that. You absolutely did not care one bit about how experienced anyone was. You wouldn’t have even cared about Tara’s experience if she herself didn’t tell you about it, mostly because she needed to get it off her chest.

"It wasn't our business either," she just deadpanned, as if that was actually a good excuse to go and share Ethan’s private information, that you didn’t even ask for.

"So!" she ushered you and Tara to the table and from the corner of your eye you saw Chad giving you a thumbs up with an encouraging look on his face.

"Someone save us!" you whisper-shouted, mostly looking at Sam for help.

Tara chuckled and lightly elbowed your side. "Behave, it might be fun," she sat on your lap instead of the chair Mindy pulled out for her.

"Oh, come on, for once sit somewhere else!" Mindy huffed with her hands on her hips.

Tara just grinned and leaned back against you. "I'm doing you a favor, you know Y/N might escape if I don't do this."

You wrapped an arm around Tara's waist and leaned your head back, feeling just a tad bit annoyed. "Gee, sorry for not wanting to live by movie logic," a good movie to watch as a way to have fun? Sure, any time, especially with Tara. This was just going too far for your taste.

"Too bad, Y/N, this is your life now!" Mindy walked over to you and poked the side of your head. "The sooner you accept that, the better."

"Never!" you gave a defiant, and maybe a bit childish, refusal.

"You can't fight this, miss MMA! Besides, we are in a franchise, and characters aren't safe anymore, so you better listen, especially Sam and Tara," any fun you might have been having with this conversation was gone in an instant.

"No one is killing Tara or Sam," you felt Tara twitch slightly on your lap, you figured it was due to the tone of your voice, lower than usual and promising pain to whoever tried to hurt either of the two sisters. "No one is killing any of you, not you, not Chad, and not Anika, not while I'm breathing."

Mindy looked away from you, touched, but not really believing your words. "You can't promise that, Y/N, but thanks anyway."

Your eyes met hers, you understood, while you would do everything in you power and protect Tara you couldn’t be everywhere at once, you couldn’t claim no one would get killed as long as you were breathing, not after Wes and Liv being killed last year. You would still do your very best to keep them all safe.

"Okay, I'm sensing tension here, let's just relax and have a fun slumber party as the Core Five," Chad and Sam came into the kitchen while Anika stayed back in the living room watching news.

"Core what now?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Core Five?" Sam asked at basically the same time.

"Did you just give us a nickname?" Tara asked in utter disbelief.

"I sure did! I mean, we've been through a lot together and it's a pretty cool nickname," Chad explained and you honestly could go along with that logic.

"That's debatable," Sam wasn't quite on board yet.

"It's extremely debatable," Tara definitely wasn't in favor of it.

"You can't just give yourself a nickname, dingus," Mindy was probably just messing with Chad.

"Of course I can, dingus, because I just did," Chad raised his palm for a high five. "Core Five up top!" he exclaimed.

"No." Mindy immediately rejected him.

"Down low!" he tried with Tara.

"Get that away from me," Tara laughed.

"Please, for the love of God, Sam!" he might have been getting a bit desperate.

"Don't do it!" Mindy, perhaps seeing that Sam might actually do it, quickly interfered.

"Y/N!" he tried one last time.

"You know what, I feel sorry, here's to your Core Five staying alive five," you high-fived Chad, ignoring the incredulous look on Tara's face.

"Thank you!" and Chad looked happy, so win-win.

"I can't believe you," Tara shook her head.

"What? It's kinda cool," you shrugged, but before an argument could be made for or against the nickname your phone rang. Tara nearly jumped off your lap, but you kept a firm hold on her. "Yes?" you picked up without even looking at the caller ID. Maybe you should change that habit…

"Y/N L/N?" that didn't sound like the way a Ghostface would start the conversation.

"That's me," you replied, keeping caution at bay.

"We received a report of alarms going off at the gym you work at. Thomas Laurent called us and said he was out of state and that you'd come to handle the situation. We just need you to come by and make sure everything is still here," the woman spoke over the phone, and you nodded, making up your mind in a second.

"Not the best moment, but sure, I'll be there as soon as I can," you hung up and realized Tara wasn't budging. "Love, I know it's not ideal, but I'd like to keep my job," you pressed soft kisses to the back of her neck. "I promise I'll be careful."

"I'm going with you," Tara decided still not moving from your lap.

"Tara, no you're not," Sam didn't waste a moment, she just outright put her foot down.

"Listen to Sam, please, you'll be safer here," you pleaded for Tara to just listen to you this once. Ater all, if this was the trap you were guessing it was, this was your best bet. There were two options, either Ghostface was waiting for you at the gym, or he was trying to separate you from the group and attack them.

"You're not going anywhere either, Y/N," and it looked like both sisters were about to give you trouble.

"Sam," you tried to argue, a plan already forming in your head, and you didn’t feel like letting this opportunity get away.

"Thank you!" Tara looked so happy Sam was on her side in this. She then turned to you. "You're either not going, or I'm going with you, the same way we agreed on me going to parties."

You and Sam both groaned at that, Tara really shouldn’t have mentioned that agreement when she broke it twice.

"You were beaten! You're not going alone!" Tara argued, before either of you could respond to her previous argument.

"T, if this Ghostface that attacked you really is stronger than Y/N, and she really has to go, then she'll be safer on her own, or, if someone has to go with her, it should be Chad," no one quite liked the idea of you going anywhere, and you were sure Mindy didn't exactly like the idea of Chad leaving either, even if she did suggest it.

"I'm definitely going with you. We'll beat this chucklefuck up together," Chad seemed confident, and the way Sam was nodding at that had Tara reluctantly getting up.

You got up and grabbed your car keys and wallet. "No one is going with me. I'll be in and out," you sighed when Tara wrapped her arms around your waist. "Tara, Love," as gently as you could you got her to let go of you. As hard as she tried there was pretty much nothing Tara could do to you unless you let her, and you sometimes wondered if she got so used to you giving in to her wishes and demands that she forgot that fact. "Please, don't make this harder than it should be," you understood, you really did, but the sooner you left the better.

Tara looked you in the eyes. "Please, don't leave," it nearly made you change your mind.

"Trust me, I'm not about to walk into a trap," you assured her, you reached up and touched her cheek. "We need to be rational about this," even if it did hurt to leave Tara like this you turned to Sam. "I know this isn't the smartest option, but I made up my mind."

You didn't exactly leave a lot of space for arguing and by now they all knew how stubborn you were. And so, you left the group, taking your spare keys with you.

~X~

You left the apartment. You actually left Tara and she… she was frightened, not for herself, the apartment was fairly safe as far as she was concerned. She was there, Sam was there, Chad, Mindy and Anika were there, with five on one even the Ghostface that fought against you would have troubles. So, no, she wasn’t afraid for her life, she was afraid for you, you reckless, asshole. You left when Tara all but begged you not to, you were knowingly putting your life in danger when you knew one moment of carelessness could mean death. And you just wanted Tara to accept it and wait helplessly for you to come back home.

And it made Tara angry. It was a similar feeling to the one she’d get when she had mood swings back in Woodsboro, only even stronger this time, and her emotions were out of control. She needed you here, both to feel safe and to complain to you about your behavior.

"Hey, she'll be fine," surprisingly, the one who reassured Tara was Anika.

Tara looked to the side. "How can you be so sure?" a part of her wanted to say something along the lines of 'easy for you to say', but she knew better. Maybe it was because you and Anika didn't have siblings in the friend group, or maybe it was because Anika was the one who helped four months ago when Tara first disappeared, but somehow the two of you bonded a bit more than Tara expected. You definitely bonded more with Anika than with Ethan. Granted, that was true for the entire group, not just you. Except maybe Chad since Ethan was his roommate.

"Come on, T, she's strong and smart, she's either sure she can handle whatever trap someone could be setting up for her, or she has a plan of her own," and if you had a plan you weren't about to say it.

Perhaps you just didn't trust Anika enough to openly say what you were going to do.

It didn't stop Tara from worrying about you, but she couldn't do anything but believe in you. So, she felt better. You'd come back to her. You always did. "Thanks, Anika," she smiled, and then they heard the news that Sam was the suspect.

~X~

You needed to be quick about this. Luckily, there was a gas station near your apartment, so you approached the first younger driver you saw. "Hey, would you like to earn three hundred bucks, with absolutely no effort?" the moment those words left your mouth you wondered if your morals completely abandoned you.

"Huh?" the kid you approached probably wasn't even out of high school.

"Look," you showed him a police tracker. "You drive away with this in your car, in the opposite direction of your home. Then, a couple of miles away from here just chuck this somewhere. No matter what, don't keep it," as long as he kept driving and went far enough you genuinely hoped nothing bad would happen, but you needed to get rid of the bloody tracker.

You should probably thank Sidney for making you paranoid about trackers on your car.

"Uh, sure," quick and easy money, coupled with the kid being young and likely naive did the job.

"Thanks," you said and handed the tracker and the money over to him. "Throw it away, and don't stop, just throw it, you hear me," you really hoped you wouldn't see the kid got stabbed in the news tomorrow morning. "Don't ever do this again though, you never know who you're dealing with!" you hollered as you ran back to your car.

You were suspicious the moment that call came, guessing Ghostface would be trying to separate you from the group. Either to jump you or attack the others, you weren't sure. But you weren't about to take the bait. You drove like a maniac, parking the car in the back alley less than a minute from the building you lived in. Even less if you ran. And then you hid in the shadows, watching the entrance, thankful you chose to wear a black hoodie today.

Your phone rang and you picked up, once again without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello, Y/N," oh, you recognized that voice. "What are you doing so far from your workplace?"

"Ruining your plans," you were relieved the kid listened to you.

"Hardly. I got you exactly where I want you. Away from home," that would have been chilling to hear if you weren't looking at the entrance and noticing the figure approaching.

"If you even try to touch them," you warned, stepping away from the shadows, and as silently as you could you went after the Ghostface.

"What are you going to do about it?" you didn't respond, seeing as you were already about a dozen feet behind the killer. "Silent, huh? Will you be that silent when I carve up your little whore," you grabbed Ghostface from behind and slammed him into the ground.

"Sorry, whore really doesn't fit any of my loved ones," you picked up the knife he dropped and quickly stabbed him several times, but just as you were about to slit his throat you heard tires screeching, horns blaring, and looked up to see a car heading right toward you and the Ghostface.

You jumped up to your feet and headed for the stairs, you got inside just as another Ghostface emerged from the car and went to his fallen accomplice in crime.

You felt your blood run cold when you took a good look at the two. They weren't nearly as big as the one you fought at the bodega.

No.

Fuck!

Would this one run after you or get the other one out of the way? You didn't know. It didn't matter.

~X~

Tara couldn't remember the last time fifteen minutes made her go through such a rollercoaster of emotions. First, she was worried about you, then reassured, then she had to completely shift focus on comforting Sam, and then, finally, she even allowed herself to be excited and happy for Sam because she was sleeping with Danny, or Cute Boy, as Tara dubbed him, mostly to see if you'd get jealous. You didn't even react, but the nickname kinda stuck around.

And then they all heard Anika scream.

Tara jumped to her feet and ran into the living room to see Ghostface standing over Anika with a knife in her stomach.

"Anika!" Mindy cried out as Tara, before anyone could grab her lunged at Ghostface and tried to push him off Anika.

He wouldn't budge, Tara was trying with everything she had, pushing the forearm, but nothing worked.

"Feisty," Ghostface chuckled, entirely unbothered by her efforts.

Tara suddenly remembered all those times she watched you fight, pulled her fist back, and with all her weight put behind the punch she hit him right where his liver was.

He flinched, probably more surprised than anything, and pushed Anika aside. Before Tara could react, he grabbed her left forearm and pulled her closer. "You should have left the fighting to your girlfriend," he taunted and raised his knife. And she screamed, for a moment feeling like she was back in Woodsboro, with Amber, in her robes above her on the night she was attacked for the first time.

Everything turned hectic from that moment. Sam grabbed the arm holding the knife and pushed, desperately trying to keep the knife from reaching Tara as Chad jumped in and punched Ghostface in the face. Tara did her best to push as well and they managed to topple him over.

"Help Anika!" Chad got on top of him, hitting him with all he had several times and for a moment Tara thought they would be safe. She thought Chad's hits were enough to defeat the man, because while he wasn’t as skilled as you were, Chad wasn’t weak by any means.

"Chad get back!" Sam, however, saw something else and went to pull Chad back. Only then did Tara see the man had his forearms raised and was blocking each and every hit Chad made. And it looked a lot like how you would fight in the cage. There was no doubt in Tara’s mind now, this man was an MMA fighter and she felt her blood run cold, because she knew exactly how dangerous that made him.

There was no mistaking it. This was the Ghostface that attacked the three of you at the bodega. Sam wasn't strong or fast enough to pull Chad away in time and Ghostface stabbed Chad right below his chest.

He violently yanked the knife out, making the wound even worse as blood splattered on the floor and Chad cried out as he and Sam fell back. Tara watched in horror as Sam managed to get back on her feet only to just barely avoid the knife.

"Run!" Sam yelled and Tara went to help Anika to her feet. There was no way they could reach the front doors, but maybe they could lock the bedroom doors and call for help from there. Mindy, trusting Tara to handle helping Anika went to get Chad, only to get sliced across her left biceps.

Sam grabbed a lamp and threw it at Ghostface, slowing him down just enough for all five of them to flee into the guest bedroom.

They had no idea what to do now, though. They didn't bring their phones. They barely managed to block both of the doors and Ghostface kept trying to break through.

"Sam!" they heard Danny yelling from his apartment and Sam went to the window.

"Shit," she cursed, and Tara realized they really had no way out. Ghostface would break in sooner rather than later.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Tara looked at Sam, not knowing what was happening, all she was focusing on was trying to slow down Anika's bleeding. "Fuck, I don't," Sam grabbed onto something and Tara realized it was a ladder.

"Tara! Tara, go!" Sam ushered her to the ladder.

"Sam! Wait!" Tara tried to argue, but Sam just grabbed her shoulders and made her look into her sister's eyes.

"Listen to me, we'll send Anika next, but I need you to get out of here," the frantic, frightened look in Sam's eyes made Tara give up on fighting.

Tara pulled Sam into a hug. "Please don't die," she begged and, not having any more time to waste, went to the ladder. She looked Danny in the eyes and swallowed down her fear. The last thing anyone needed right now was for her asthma to kick in. Slow, deep breaths. She thought about you, about how you'd be encouraging her right now, but she was moving too slowly. The lack of strength in her left hand made her uncertain.

"Come on, Tara, I got you, Sam will be right behind you, you can do it," Danny encouraged her, reaching out for her to grab onto his hands. And she did, she grabbed on and with his help made her way to the safety of his apartment.

"Sam!" she immediately cried out, now feeling even more anxious since she had no idea what was happening in the apartment. She could still hear Ghostface trying to break into the apartment, she flinched when she heard wood cracking but managed to keep her breathing under control when she saw Sam climb onto the ladder.

Sam began making her way over, but the ladder shook slightly. "It won't hold me," Sam spoke what Tara feared the most at the moment.

"It ain't going anywhere, it's gonna hold you, I promise," Danny kept a firm hold on the ladder and Sam nodded slightly.

"Eyes on me, Sam, come on, I got you," just like he did with Tara he reached out for Sam and pulled her inside.

Sam immediately hugged Tara, trembling slightly, and then looking at Danny. "Thank you," she whispered. "Okay, she turned back toward their apartment. "Come on!" she yelled for the others to get across.

"Mindy! Chad! Anika!" Tara yelled, hoping any of them would just get to the ladder and get out of there before it was too late. She saw Mindy and Anika getting close to the window. Her heart shattered when she saw Anika and Mindy kissing, possibly for the last time, and Mindy climbing on the ladder.

"Anika and Chad are coming right behind you! They're right behind you!" Sam kept yelling, keeping Mindy from panicking. She made it to the other side of the ladder much faster than either Tara or Sam. It wasn't fast enough though.

Just as Anika climbed onto the ladder they heard the doors slamming open.

"Chad!" Mindy screamed. They didn't see it, but they heard a loud thud and what sounded like a body dropping.

And then Ghostface was at the window, stabbing the knife next to the ladder.

"What?" Anika asked, afraid and in pain and there was nothing they could do to help.

"Anika you have to move now!" Mindy cried out as the man slowly, as if taunting them reached down for the ladder.

"No!" Tara cried out, and then she felt like her heart stopped beating for a moment when she saw a fist colliding with the side of Ghostface's head.

You came back.

~X~

You could hear the screams as you were running down the hall toward the doors. You could see blood from the moment you burst into the apartment. You saw red when you realized Chad was struggling to get up and Ghostface was reaching down for the ladder.

Why was there a ladder? You had no idea. It didn't matter. You rushed into the guest bedroom crashing your fist against the side of his head and for good measure slamming your entire body into Ghostface.

Both of you dropped to the floor and you placed him in a hold, wrapping your arms around his neck and right arm as you pressed his left forearm down with your knee.

"Y/N," Chad stumbled to his feet and you could see how unsteady he was.

"Get out of here! Get across the ladder!" you yelled, still not sure what that other Ghostface was going to do. "I've got him, just go!" you could feel Ghostface trying to get on his knees, but you kicked his leg and added pressure to the forearm at the same time.

You could hear Chad climbing onto the ladder as you tried to choke Ghostface. Even with as much strength as you were putting behind your hold, he managed to grab your forearm and pull just enough to prevent you from choking him.

You were stuck in a different dilemma though. Should you fight him right now? Just try to end the biggest threat? You were vaguely aware of the knife next to the ladder, you could reach it before Ghostface, but you weren't sure you could be quick enough to end it all before he got back to his feet.

"Y/N!" hearing Tara crying out for you made you consider just running away. Just getting across the ladder as quickly as you can instead of fighting. Leaving the fight for another day and just hoping you’d get a better chance to finish him off.

Hearing footsteps closing in made the decision for you and you jumped to your feet and went for the window just as the other Ghostface came in, knife twirling between his fingers.

You didn't have time to do it carefully. "Out of the way!" you yelled and jumped out of the window, just barely keeping your balance as you lunged forward and tumbled into Danny's apartment. The ladder fell as you stumbled into someone and tripped over your own feet.

You knew who you stumbled into before you even opened your eyes. You felt her trembling arms clinging to the back of your hoodie. When you opened your eyes you saw Tara beneath you, tears falling from her eyes as she pulled you down to kiss you.

"Are you okay?" you asked, looking her over when she allowed you to pull away.

Tara nodded frantically. "I am, I'm okay, Y/N," she whispered, and you relaxed just for a moment before looking around you. You weren't too late, everyone was still alive. Everyone but Tara and Sam were injured, but they were all alive and you hugged Tara tightly, kissing the side of her head and muttering a soft thank you into her ear.

~X~

You were all, aside from Anika, more or less, fine. Chad had a concussion and a deep stab wound, but he could still move around and Mindy's cut, while painful, wasn't deep enough to cause permanent damage. Tara, Sam and you were, for the most part, just a bit shaken.

Anika was the one you were all the most worried about. Her wound was serious, and while she survived, and the surgery went well none of you knew when she would wake up or if there would be any lasting issues caused by what she went through.

You folded your arms and squeezed at your biceps, barely keeping yourself from biting your lip. You thought you could outsmart the killers and it nearly cost Anika, and everyone else, their lives.

You stepped back and leaned your back against the wall. Events of last year came to mind as you watched Mindy watching over Anika while Tara was comforting her to the best of her abilities. You guessed you had a similar expression back when you were waiting for Tara to wake up.

Chad walked over to you, leaned against the wall, and placed a hand on your shoulder. "What now?" he asked.

"You stay here, protect Mindy and Anika, and leave the rest to us," in any other circumstances you were sure he would argue. That he would demand to be there for Tara, Sam, and you, so he could help you fight. But this was his sister and not only was she injured she wouldn't leave her girlfriend here.

"Y/N is right, Chad, you're needed here," Sam understood. Everyone understood what the only option was for Chad.

So, he nodded. "You better come back. We are Core Five," you could see in his eyes that he felt bad about his choice, but this was one of those situations, where you just had to choose the one most important to you. The pair of siblings would choose one another, no matter who was on the other side, and no matter how much it would hurt them if they had to choose.

"Yeah, you might want to change the nickname, use six instead of five," you said, firmly believing that Anika would make it out of this completely fine.

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#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter #scream #sam carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

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reyadawn · 2 months

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Shawnah's Masterlist!

Welcome all! 🥰 My name is Shawnah - 38 year old mother of 3 and part-time writer exclusively for Bad Omens (specifically Noah Sebastian with a shot of Jolly 😅).

Below you will find a list of all my original works - please be kind upon reading them. Also, too, this goes without saying but do not steal my work 🙄

THESE FICS ARE AGE RESTRICTED - DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 😒 I am not responsible for your online decisions ✋️

Happy reading to you all! 🫠🥰

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

1. From Dark to Light (Noah Sebastian x Reader)

2. Dark Depths (Noah Sebastian x Reader)

3. Masked Desire (Noah Sebastian x Reader)

4. Take What You Want (Noah Sebastian x Reader)

5. Punish Me Once (Noah Sebastian x Reader x Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson)

6. World's Apart (Noah Sebastian x Reader)

7. Killing Me Slowly (Part 1) (Part 2) (Noah Sebastian x Reader)

8. Foolish Games (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)(Part 4) (Noah Sebastian x Reader)

9. Magnetic (Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x Reader)

10. I Can Love You More (Noah Sebastian x Reader)

11. Break Me, Shake Me (Noah Sebastian x Reader)

12. Smitten - One Shot (Noah Sebastian x Reader)

13. Dance With the Devil (Noah Sebastian x Reader)

14. My Protector (Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x Reader) Part 2

15. Workin' From Home (Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x pregnant reader)

16. Red Room - One Shot (Noah Sebastian x Reader)

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #jolly karlsson fanfiction #bad omens cult #shawnah's masterlist

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crawlthesky · 2 months

Text

DIGIMON ADVENTURE Screencaps

source: Blu-ray rip resolution: 1440x1080 file type: .jpg (batch-converted from .png) image count / file size: Overall: 39,184 screencaps / 28.1GB Individual: see the read more Bonus: Blu-ray Extras ♥ zip Digivices ♥ zip Tags/Crests ♥ zip Other ♥ zip

♥ Recapped entirely from the US Discotek release. (The Japanese blu-ray was done way back here.) ♥ Movie 1 / Digimon Adventure Movie can be found here. ♥ Movie 2 / Bokura no War Game can be found here. ♥ Previous season posts: Adventure 02, Tamers, Frontier, Savers, Xros Wars, Xros Wars: 7 Death Generals, Xros Wars: Young Hunters, Appmon, Adventure (2020), Ghost Game. Franchise master post over here. ♥ If you have any problems with the download links, let me know, and I'll toss you an alternate link or split them smaller or something. ♥ Have fun making a buttload of icons or edits or whatever.

Creditless Opening → 262 screencaps / 192MB Creditless Ending 1 → 79 screencaps / 68MB Creditless Ending 2 → 99 screencaps / 79MB Digimon Analyzer → 358 screencaps / 286MB Evolution Sequences → 1,012 screencaps / 647MB Eyecatch → 23 screencaps / 19MB Title Cards → 180 screencaps / 134MB

01: Adrift? The Island of Adventure! → 936 screencaps / 719MB 02: Explosive Evolution! Greymon → 656 screencaps / 500MB 03: The Blue Wolf! Garurumon → 800 screencaps / 619MB 04: Scorching Heat! Birdramon → 599 screencaps / 463MB 05: Electric Shock! Kabuterimon → 675 screencaps / 500MB 06: Palmon's Furious Evolution! → 952 screencaps / 693MB 07: Roar! Ikkakumon → 678 screencaps / 503MB 08: Devimon, Emissary of Darkness! → 678 screencaps / 478MB 09: Clash! The Freezing Digimon → 813 screencaps / 601MB 10: Centarumon the Protector! → 716 screencaps / 553MB 11: The Dancing Ghosts! Bakemon → 838 screencaps / 595MB 12: Adventure! Patamon and Me → 618 screencaps / 469MB 13: Angemon Awakens! → 677 screencaps / 496MB 14: Departure to a New Continent! → 544 screencaps / 404MB 15: Etemon's Grand Entrance of Evil → 708 screencaps / 534MB 16: Dark Evolution! SkullGreymon → 681 screencaps / 507MB 17: Cockatrimon, Ship Captain of Illusions! → 610 screencaps / 462MB 18: The Fairy! Piccolomon → 606 screencaps / 449MB 19: Nanomon of the Labyrinth! → 486 screencaps / 373MB 20: Perfect Evolution! MetalGreymon → 663 screencaps / 491MB 21: Koromon and the Great Clash in Tokyo! → 572 screencaps / 384MB 22: The Whispering Little Devil, PicoDevimon → 687 screencaps / 523MB 23: My Friend! WereGarurumon → 688 screencaps / 508MB 24: Break Through! AtlurKabuterimon → 791 screencaps / 556MB 25: The Sleeping Tyrant! TonosomaGekomon → 654 screencaps / 490MB 26: Shining Wings! Garudamon → 606 screencaps / 453MB 27: Vamdemon and the Castle of Darkness → 710 screencaps / 507MB

28: The Chase! Hurry to Japan → 694 screencaps / 500MB 29: Mammon and the Great Clash at Hikarigaoka! → 607 screencaps / 457MB 30: The Digimon's Great Tokyo Crossing!! → 668 screencaps / 512MB 31: Raremon! Attack on Tokyo Bay → 777 screencaps / 538MB 32: Tokyo Tower is Hot! DeathMeramon → 703 screencaps / 507MB 33: Pump and Gotsu are Shibuya-style Digimon → 595 screencaps / 421MB 34: The Bond of Destiny! Tailmon → 693 screencaps / 474MB 35: The Fairy of Odaiba! Lilimon Blooms → 602 screencaps / 427MB 36: Break Through the Barrier! Zudomon Spark! → 867 screencaps / 613MB 37: Perfect Levels' All-Out Strike! Sparkling Angewomon → 718 screencaps / 508MB 38: Revival! The Demon Lord, VenomVamdemon → 647 screencaps / 483MB 39: Two Ultimate Evolutions! Banish the Darkness!! → 663 screencaps / 492MB 40: The Four Kings of the Evil Mountain! The Dark Masters → 682 screencaps / 497MB 41: The Savage King of the Sea! MetalSeadramon → 618 screencaps / 469MB 42: Whamon and the Silent Sea Bottom → 598 screencaps / 436MB 43: A Dangerous Game! Pinocchimon → 756 screencaps / 595MB 44: Jyureimon and the Forest of Doubts → 633 screencaps / 501MB 45: Clash of the Ultimates! WarGreymon VS MetalGarurumon → 828 screencaps / 645MB 46: MetalEtemon's Payback → 676 screencaps / 541MB 47: Oh Wind! Oh Light! SaberLeomon → 725 screencaps / 557MB 48: Orders to Bomb! Mugendramon → 594 screencaps / 436MB 49: Farewell, Numemon → 655 screencaps / 477/MB 50: Battle Between Women! LadyDevimon → 552 screencaps / 401MB 51: Piemon, The Clown From Hell → 688 screencaps / 483MB 52: The Holy Swordsman! HolyAngemon → 814 screencaps / 585MB 53: The Final Dark Digimon → 622 screencaps / 415MB 54: A New World → 569 screencaps / 409MB

#digimon #digisafe #digimon adventure #my screencaps #and now it's odaiba memorial day!#so here's surprise part 2

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fernhelm · 4 months

Note

opinions on the black sister relationships? i love your character posts sm!

i’m blowing you a kiss!

i love thinking about them…sorry this took so long, i was busy lounging and watching killing eve. i might type up something about the dynamic between the three of them, but i broke them down into pairs here.

bella & cissa ♛

i made a webweave here that basically sums up my thoughts on bellacissa. i do think cissa thinks she’s a fanatic and completely bonkers, but she’d defend her anyway. narcissa appreciates that in their patriarchal fucked up family, bella is carving her own path—she isn’t docile or ladylike at all. so cissa takes some vicious pleasure in how unleashed bella is. conversely, bellatrix has a deep-seeded jealousy FOR narcissa, who is at least able to play the part of the perfect pure blood woman in a way bellatrix never could. my vision is that druella has contempt for bella but pays a lot of attention to narcissa. once druella is dead, bella sees narcissa as both her baby and her mother in a way, and she resents both. but i won’t get into bella here she deserves her own post.

bella & andy ♞

the hardest relationship for me is bella and andy. my belief is that these two are one year apart in age, like irish twins. we know from dh that they’re basically identical. I think they were pitted against each other a lot. they both end up teaching each other how conditional someone caring for you can be. it’s obvious that andy leaving really wounds bella (as evidenced by the ferocity with which she wants to kill ted and tonks), so there is a degree of power andy hold over her emotionally. bella is both the terrorist and the protector in the home. she goes after both her sisters, but it’s with the ultimate goal of making them strong enough to face anything that’s thrown at them…andy doesn’t want to change her or save her—she knows all the dark, evil parts of her and grapples with all the times bella showed her tenderness or turned her rage against someone else for her sake. i think they can read each other’s body language perfectly, but don’t understand each other’s minds at all. once they’re older they fight all the time, verbally if not with magic, and it would start with bella making some pointed jabs to get her attention and andy curating a biting response without looking up from her magazine and just like that they’re dueling. but once it’s over and they’re panting on the floor, bella would kick her leg and they’d smirk at each other a bit. or one of them would storm out. i do think that andy did bella’s hair for every event they attended between the ages of 8 and 16. huh, i guess i have more to say about them than i thought i did.

andy & cissa ♝

narcissa spends years stepping in the footprints andy has left behind. before she figures out who she is, she’s just a ghost of andy. she learns all her best defenses from her. i don’t think andy feels very bad about leaving her behind. i don’t think she’d try to convince narcissa to go with her either. she would miss her so much, but she’d grieve her like she’s dead. i don’t see her as a person who holds on to a lot of regrets. and she’s in love! she wants to run away and forget every bad thing that ever happened to her! is that a crime? narcissa thinks it is. growing up andy was her strongest ally, and she takes it as the ultimate betrayal when she leaves. similarly to regulus, she looks down on andy and maligns her whenever her name comes up, but it’s a cover up for how hurt she is. andy knows all the reasons that narcissa thinks she’s trapped in the life she leads, but she still thinks ‘if you want out, get out.’

daughters 1, 2, 3 ♙

fairy tales often follow a 1 2 3 format because it’s easy to remember a moral lesson tied up with a bow when it comes in a set of three (three billy goats, beauty and the beast, the peverell brothers). it goes bad bad good. so it’s super interesting that the ostensibly “good” one, andy, is the middle child. she is bookended by two death eater sisters. which raises the question: what went wrong (or right) with her? and for the others too—narcissa in canon is primarily draco’s mother, but giving her andromeda AND bellatrix as sisters raises all kinds of questions about her upbringing and interpersonal relationships. bellatrix chases and scolds narcissa at the beginning of half-blood prince, and she’s not particularly scary at all. the terrifying evil bitch who killed sirius calls her sister cissy? three sisters who mean vastly different things to harry, but we never get the three of them in a room, so so much is left to the imagination. lots to play with. good things come in threes!

#a #3 sisters meta

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sinner-sunflower · 5 months

Text

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 4/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

More on the siblings' program.

-----------------------------------------------

Lucifer stifled a chuckle as he observed his brother's expression. If only Michael knew that Lucifer had already been informed of his impending demise. He's more shocked that Heaven might be the cause of his death.

Heaven's really keen on killing him, huh.

Lucifer: I'm immortal! You're being ridiculous.

Michael: And you're being a fool! These threads just made a divine move. This had never happened before!

Lucifer: Then why tell me, huh?! Last I checked, you and Heaven could barely give a rat's ass about whether or not I'm still alive.

Michael: Because believe it or not, I do still care about you! You're my little brother, Samael!

Lucifer: I said my name is L̴͎̭̥͎͊̀u̷̧̨̟̻͓͗̍c̷̢̪̱̄̀̊̎̀͝ì̷̘͚̰̖̦̱f̴̻̮̲̮͈͈͑̓̃̃̊e̸̫̒͑͒͊͗͆r̸̨̤̀̂̚͝ͅͅ!

Sue him if he couldn't control the fiery words that erupted from his mouth. Michael always had a knack for provoking him, intentionally or not.

Lucifer: And you have a funny way of showing it. Did you know that the Fall almost killed us?! Lily and I had to lay there, surrounded by darkness, bodies so burnt we couldn't move for weeks.

Despite the looming threat posed by the King of Hell, Michael refuses to back down. Instead, he straightens his posture and closes the distance between them, showing the unwavering protector of Heaven that he is.

Michael: You don't understand! I- it was such a hard decision! It was the best option! I'm Heaven's protector and-

Lucifer: You were my protector too!

The Archangel was taken aback, a rare moment of vulnerability revealing itself in his features. Lucifer, observing this reaction, knows he has struck a chord. Despite Michael's claims of caring for his family, it's evident that Heaven had, and always has been his top priority.

Michael thinks about a lot of things too. Like how everything would've turned out different if he was never given this duty- this purpose.

Michael: They were going to kill you.

Lucifer couldn't remember the last time he had heard his brother speak to him with such softness.

Michael: Your original punishment was death. They wanted you killed. By my blade. We begged them to reconsider. You should've seen it-

The warrior of Heaven laughs wetly.

Michael: -the Archangels of Heaven, on their knees in front of people other than our Lord. It took so many meetings for them to relent. That's why you and Lilith spent a long time held in the Garden.

Lucifer: Shut up.

Michael: So, I'm really sorry that we let you down.

Lucifer: Shut up, Michael.

His brother once again composed himself, his gaze turning cold as it met Lucifer's.

Michael: But if I had the chance to go back, I would do it all over again.

Of course. Heaven always comes first.

Lucifer: You should've killed me when you had the chance. And now you think you can beat me at my own game?

He attempts to crush the thread still held in his hand, its glow resembling the purest gold. It seems to almost be trying to talk to him, to reason with him like Michael every time they meet. But it all sounds like mockery to his ears.

He hates it.

Lucifer lets out a manic laugh.

Lucifer: Divine move? Divine move? You think you have any moves at all?!

He begins to yell at the threads.

Lucifer: Maybe then, Heaven could've killed that weak, naive angel. But me? ME?! Ì̶̢̤̉'̵͙͕͑M̷̱͋̀ ̵̬͌T̴̥͠͝H̸̫́̑E̶̳̠̐̎ ̴̠̣̎̐D̷̼̕E̵̢̳͆V̶̳̩̉̋Ì̶̬L̴̥̗̾ ̴̮͝F̸̝̓̀Ų̸̠͗̑C̵͚͗K̷̺̚̚I̵̠̋̕Ň̸͎͈G̵̘̔ ̵̤͛I̸̩͐N̷̥̰̋C̸͓̒̍A̴̙̓R̵͍͛N̴̤͎͠A̵͇̟̓Ṯ̴̯͊Ḙ̴͑̇,̴̰͆̑ ̵̤́ͅÝ̴̙̫̈́O̵͚͐͒U̵̙͂ ̷̱̆͜͝Ċ̸͍̌Á̷̰́N̸͉̈'̶͇̎͂T̵̠̒ ̶͖́K̶̛̲̮̆I̸͎̘͐̃L̴̟̙̔̿L̴̜̾͊ ̶̱̥̌M̵̳̕E̵͈̯͋́!

Lucifer's disguise falters, his emotions resonating through his disguise as his golden hair reverts back to the darkness Roo had cursed him with.

The threads began humming. Were they afraid of them? Of him? That's funny, Fate itself, afraid of him? He wonders if even Death would tremble in his presence.

Michael splutters in disbelief at the sight of Lucifer's transformed appearance.

Michael: Lucifer—what? Why do you look like that? What did you-

The younger doesn't grace his brother with an answer or allow him to finish. Instead, he summons Keekee once more and swiftly opens a portal back to Hell.

Lucifer: Don't worry, Mika. I won't die that easily because I'll be there to watch Heaven fall.

Nothing matters. Not his brother's shouts of concern, not the short thread, not Roo's cryptic words. What matters is Charlie and her future.

He'll defy Fate if he has to.

-----------------------------------------------

Michael slumps on a chair in exhaustion after Lucifer left. He fears for the worst of Heaven and his brother's fates.

He grabs an orb from his pocket dimension and starts to recite and incantation to call his siblings. He knows he should tell the others, to discuss The Fates, Heaven, and Sa-Lucifer. Lucifer who is clearly hiding something.

But he hesitates.

'Knowing them, they would go down to Hell to confront Lucifer and it might just make things worse with their little brother than it already is. '

Before he could make a decision, there's a loud crash from beyond the door.

Michael: Hello?

He vaguely hears shushing on the other side and a bit of arguing. Slowly, he approaches the door. He grabs the knob and swings it open swiftly.

Michael: Gabriel, I told you not to-

Michael stops in surprise as he stares at his eavesdroppers. One lets out a squeak while the other saluted him.

'A young Seraph and a winner?'

Emily: Archangel Michael! We-uh- we can explain!

Sir Pentious: Your Heavenly Grace!

----------------------------------

A Shameless and Teen Wolf reference??

I miss season 3b. Nogitsune Stiles was the best villain to come out of that show.

Edited some stuff! Moved a few dialogues

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amnignsity · 2 months

Text

Why not?...

Lee Minho x Male reader.

Reader is kinda childish when it comes to Minho in a way. >Minho calls reader BunBun while Reader calls Minho minmin.<

You and Minho have been friends since the beginning of kindergarten, always together and never apart.

Hand holding one another and sticking up for each other neither of you guys could ever be separated.

"Look minmin! it's a caterpillar!" You uttered being 5 years old as you point at a caterpillar, 6 year old Minho looks at it before looking at you with a disgusted expression.

"It has too many arms, bunbun..." Minho uttered as I quickly lifted you up moving you behind him while you jsut pouted crossing your arms.

"But it's so cute~" You whined while minho just pulled you away from it like was gonna harm you. Minho rolled his eyes as he huffed having alot of attitude despite being a kid.

"It's poisonous." Minho uttered as he makes you sit down the sand play area - grabbing a sandcastle making equipment, a shovel, bucket, etc...

You could barely remember it - he was your little protector since childhood and while you two grow up.

You couldn't help but notice how everything slowly shifted to place.

"But minmin...you said we could today..." 12 year old you pouted as you sat at the edge of his bed, running your hands through your hair while minho focused on his project.

"I said there MIGHT be a chance we could.." 13 years old Minho said as he grabs the hot glue gun and does his work. You crossed your arms as you pouted.

"Fine then I'll go a-" "No you won't" Minho interrupted you briefly as he sighed, looking at you with his stern gaze that others would be intimidated off but not you.

Never you..

You held your breath as you looked at him with an angry pouty look trying to be angry but the look minho gave you was too cute...cute?...nah funny.

"Pft-.. you look like a gargoyle..." You laughed while minho grumbled a hint of red against his cheeks as he looked at you, briefly frowning before a soften gaze was placed for a bit.

You're voice is like music to his ears...

"But she said she loves me, minmin!" 16 year old you uttered in pure distress as you whimpered sobbing mess as you desperately gripped on his shirt while 17 year old minho softly caresses your back.

"I know..." Minho muttered as you both hid behind a wall away from the horrid scenery of your girlfriend kissing another man.

Minho looked at the ways the bouquet of flowers you bought was now on the ground a mess and thrown easily.

How badly wanted to destroy her life then and there...

Maybe not the best way to act upon or think of when angry but she betrayed and hurted someone who loved her.

Specially someone like his best friend who he cares for alot...

You both laid upon the soft grass, having a picnic as you gaze upon the stars—they shined so brightly against the dark purple-ish blue sky and how the moon was lightning up the way.

"Aren't the stars beautiful tonight, minmin?..." You spoke calmly as you sighed—Minho hums in response as he continued to glance your way.

Look into your eyes as they reflect the stars in the night, laying beside one another as your hands were grazing against each other.

"They are...they look so beautiful..." Minho muttered, you chuckled a bit as it was slightly rare for Minho to speak in such a sweet and soft tone. Mostly quiet and a hint of sass but still...

Minho couldn't help but feel the way his heart slightly flutter at the sound of your voice, the butterflies swirling around his stomach, his ears red and his lips into a small smile.

Looking at the way your side profile looks, he thinks you look beautiful even if you find yourself being insecure about it—the way your lashes flutter with each and every blink, your cheeks puffing up with every smile you make.

You were seventeen now and minho was eighteen...

He was gonna be going away for college very soon—but he'd stop a year just to wait for you...

You sighed softly as you slowly closed your eyes and just feel the wind and coldness of it pass through your bodies—slowly feeling another warmth as minho's hand gently covered yours.

"BunBun...You're shivering, you're cold too..." Minho mumbled as he slowly gets a blanket beside him but he still didn't let go of your hand—you slightly opened your eyes as you look up at him.

His face card was always insane to you, he was adorable but also fierce. He was handsome but also hot?...you couldn't help but admire how his brows were furrowed and how how much he prioritizes you above anyone else.

"I am...minmin...can we stay like this forever?.." You asked as you slowly intertwined both your hands together—sharing your warmth as minho's eyes soften and slowly pulled you into a hug.

You found yourself nuzzled against his neck as you both cuddled underneath the stars, the silence were peaceful and so comforting towards you both.

"Of course, BunBun...Remember always together in forever?.." Minho muttered the same words you spoke when you were little—earning a soft chuckle from your lips as you sighed and repeated.

"Always together in forever..."

You slowly closed your eyes as your breathing steadied—Minho was awake still, holding your sleeping figure as he gently tightens his hold. His chin over your head as he sighed.

Feeling a tear slid down his cheek whilst he thinks about everything...about you..

"You know minmin...If you were a girl...I'd date you..." You uttered being sick and in bed whilst he fed you your soup—hearing your words as he froze a bit.

Minho chuckled nervously as he sweatdrops a bit, gulping the lump forming in his throat as he repeats your words inside his head before slowly parting his lips and speaking as well.

"Why not now too?..." Minho muttered cheekily trying to hide the fact that he was nervous and flustered at the thought—looking down at you, gently moving the little pieces of hair stuck against your forehead.

You were warm, very hot infact due to the fever—slightly sweating as you gaze upon him, you could barely think or register your words. The warm your body was making made you hazy.

"Because you're a boy...and everyone knows boys can't like boys..."

You uttered softly—Minho froze at your words as he felt suddenly sick to his stomach at the way it dropped, eyes brimming with tears as his breath slightly stopped. Looking down at you who looked so innocent while saying those hurtful words...

Minho shuddered as he sniffled quietly remembering that moment...oh how cruel was this world to him. Holding you tightly as he tried to stop himself from crying, maybe trying to comfort himself too knowing the fact he couldn't have you.

Maybe in another life...he can have you...

ᯓᡣ𐭩Mxlist°

Author's note: I'M KINDA BACK Y'ALL, ANYWAYS FOR MY MALE READERS IF THERE ARE ANY. HERE Y'ALL GOOOO!!

#skz #stray kids #inspiration #fanfic #kpop imagines #skz x reader #ideas #kpop #skz angst #lee know x reader #lee minho #lee know x male reader #male reader #kim seungmin is so cute #Yes this was inspired by that one movie line and anime film in Nana.

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cherryrainn · 9 months

Note

✨Can I have some tmnt 2014/16 saving another mutant turtle (fem reader), who's 12 years old and was raised by the shredder. Although they were raised by him, the reader has a shy personality and is used to follow orders from those who are superior to them and is also used to being punished when they do something wrong.

This would all be platonic of course, I love big bros tmnt 2014/16

━━ ✧ 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; none, just the turtles and y/n (platonic)

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; thank you for your request!! i love these goobers

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; none

the moon hung high over the shadowy rooftops of new york city, casting a silvery glow over the labyrinthine alleys below. you found yourself skulking through these dark passages, each step muffled but purposeful. you had been raised by the shredder, the ominous and commanding leader of the foot clan, and this life of subjugation had instilled in you a shy demeanor and a tendency to follow orders without question.

your existence under the shredder's rule was marked by strict discipline and relentless training. his word was law, and any deviation from his commands resulted in swift and severe punishment. however, a part of you always yearned for something more—a sense of belonging and understanding that went beyond the cold, metallic walls of the foot clan's lair.

tonight was different. a clandestine mission had gone awry, and you found yourself stranded in unfamiliar territory, far from the safety of the foot clan's stronghold. unknown to you, your distress signal had not gone unnoticed. from the shadows, four figures emerged—four mutant turtles, just like you.

they had stumbled upon your location while patrolling the city. their keen senses picked up on your distress, and their instincts as protectors took over. although they were cautious, wary of a potential trap set by the foot clan, their sense of duty outweighed the risks.

the red one was the first to spot you, his keen eyes catching your silhouette against the dimly lit backdrop. "hey, guys, look," he whispered, signaling to his brothers. the blue one nodded, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. "stay alert. we don't know what we're dealing with here."

as they approached, you felt a wave of uncertainty wash over you. your instincts screamed at you to retreat, to report back to shredder, but something about these turtles was different. their body language conveyed not aggression, but rather a sense of concern and curiosity. yet, years of conditioning under the shredder's rule made it difficult for you to trust your own judgment.

the purple one, ever the intellectual, took a cautious step forward. "hey there," he began, his voice gentle yet firm. "we're not here to hurt you. are you alright?" his words pierced through the fog of your apprehension, planting a seed of doubt regarding the life you had always known.

the orange one, sensing your hesitation, tried a different approach. " we're just trying to help. you look like you could use a hand—or a shell," he quipped, attempting to lighten the mood. despite the gravity of the situation, a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. it was the first genuine emotion you had felt in a long time, and it resonated with the turtles' genuine intentions.

as the tension eased, the blue one took a step forward, maintaining a calm and steady demeanor. "we're not here to harm you," he assured. "but we need to know who you are and what brought you here."

you hesitated for a moment, glancing between the four brothers. they seemed sincere, yet the years of conditioning under the shredder's rule made trust a foreign concept. finally, you spoke, your voice a quiet murmur. "i'm y/n. i was raised by the shredder."

the revelation hung in the air, and the turtles exchanged wary glances. the red ones eyes narrowed, suspicion evident in his posture. "shredder's got a kid now?" he grumbled.

"no, it's not like that," you quickly interjected. "i was just raised by him. i'm not his daughter."

the purple one, the thinker of the group, furrowed his brow. "raised by the shredder? that's... complicated."

the orange one tried to diffuse the tension. "hey, we've all got our baggage. but right now, we gotta figure out what to do with you. you can't just go back to him, right?"

you shook your head, a hint of desperation in your eyes. "i can't go back. i don't want to go back."

the leader, took a moment to assess the situation. "we can't take you back to our lair without talking to master splinter. he'll know what to do."

a sudden realization crossed your face. "master splinter? like, the rat?"

the turtles exchanged amused glances, and the orange one chuckled. "yep, that's the guy. he's like our sensei and dad."

"you're like me," you muttered, more to yourself than to them. the idea of mutants like you, living above ground and free, was both bewildering and intriguing.

"yeah, we're not so different," the red one said, offering a reassuring grin. "come on, let's take you to our lair. but first, we needa talk to splinter."

the journey to their lair was filled with questions, your newfound brothers eager to learn more about your life and experiences. as you shared your story, the turtles became increasingly sympathetic, understanding the struggles you faced under the shredder's rule.

upon reaching the hidden lair, you stood before the wise and elderly master splinter. the turtles explained the situation, emphasizing your desire for freedom and a chance at a new life.

splinter studied you with keen eyes, his wisdom apparent. "the path of redemption is not an easy one, my child. but if you seek a chance for change, it can be found."

with that, the decision was made. in the underground lair, surrounded by your new brothers and a wise sensei, you embarked on a journey of self-discovery, redemption, and a chance at a life free from the shadows of the foot clan.

#TMNT #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #y/n #reader insert #x reader #ask #tmnt #platonic

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oceandolores · 2 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 4

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘴,"

summary: life has been perfect, just you and him, but the shadows of both of you and Joel's past has been haunting you again...

CHAPTER 4

masterlist of the series

previous | chapter 3

next | chapter 5

The sun seemed to shine a bit brighter these days, casting a warm glow over your life since Joel had become more involved in it. His presence brought a newfound sense of safety and comfort, not just for you but for him as well. Joel, once a cold and distant figure, began to soften, melting into a warmer, more open person whenever you were around. It was as if the world belonged to just the two of you, and the bond you shared illuminated both your lives in profound ways.

Joel was now a regular at church, attending Sunday services and every fellowship event with renewed purpose. His participation didn't go unnoticed, especially by Tommy, Ellie, and Maria, who observed the positive changes in him. Joel still remained a man of few words, guarded and cautious, but your presence had undeniably brought a light into his life, guiding him out of the shadows.

For you, Joel became the protector you desperately needed. Whenever your father’s temper flared, you could escape to Joel, finding solace in his arms. He calmed your storms, just as you eased his burdens, becoming each other's anchor. You often sneaked out together to the lake or climbed into the back of Joel’s truck to gaze at the stars. Those moments felt like the world stood still, with only the two of you and the infinite sky. Joel found himself no longer lost in the darkness; instead, he had found his light in you.

However, you both had to maintain a facade, keeping your relationship discreet to avoid the prying eyes of the community. Sneaking out, lying to your father about being at a friend's house, and stolen moments of intimacy became part of your routine. While you hadn't taken your relationship to a sexual level due to your trauma from Jamie, the nights spent cuddling, kissing, and talking were enough for Joel. Though he sometimes felt the stirrings of desire, he respected your boundaries, focusing instead on the depth of your connection.

Joel sometimes took you out of town, exploring Austin or Houston. You visited night markets, played in arcades, and strolled through bustling streets. Joel despised arcades, but the sound of your laughter and the sight of your carefree smile made every annoying game worthwhile. Every time you smiled, it was as if a sunbeam pierced through the clouds in Joel's heart, warming a place he had thought forever cold.

"Got another project comin' up," Joel said one evening as you sat together in his truck, overlooking the hills. "A big one. Tommy thinks it's too much work for the crew we got, but I reckon we can handle it."

"Tell me more about it," you prompted, even though construction details often went over your head. You loved hearing Joel talk about his work; the passion in his voice made you feel closer to him.

"It's an office building downtown. Gonna be a challenge because we gotta keep the old facade. Means a lotta careful demolition, precision work. Gotta bring in some new folks, too, ones who know their way around older structures."

You nodded, trying to visualize it. "Sounds complicated."

"It is," he admitted, a touch of pride in his voice. "But we got a good team. Tommy's been talkin' to some contractors. We need people who can do the job right, you know? Can’t afford any mistakes."

"I believe you can do it," you said earnestly. "You’re amazing at what you do."

He chuckled softly. "You’re sweet." Joel's hand reached up, his rough fingers gently caressing your chin. His touch was like a warm breeze on a chilly evening, comforting and electrifying at the same time. Joel’s gaze held yours, his brown eyes deep and intense, like molten chocolate, filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher but felt deeply within your soul.

Every touch, every look from him, made you melt. It was as if you were a snowflake landing on a sun-warmed pavement, vanishing into a pool of warmth under the intensity of his presence. You giggled, the sound light and musical, breaking the silence.

"What?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips.

Joel shook his head slowly, his smile spreading across his face, tender and genuine. "Nothin', darlin'," he said, his voice calm, gentle, and sincere.

Joel couldn’t fully grasp his feelings, but being with you made him feel alive in a way he hadn't in years. He knew this might be wrong, but it felt so good, like a burst of sunlight through storm clouds, casting colors on a world that had been grey for too long. Ever since Sarah and his wife had passed, his life had been a landscape painted in shades of grief and loss. Ellie had brought back some light, but what he felt with you was different, something more vivid, more profound.

His world had been a desolate canvas, splashed with only the darkest hues. But you were the burst of color, the brush of a vibrant dawn, illuminating the shadows that had consumed him. You were his beacon, guiding him from the darkness, painting his existence with the brightest of shades. And though it scared him, it also filled him with a warmth and a hope he hadn’t dared to feel in a long time.

***

After school, you found yourself in the familiar warmth of the kitchen, the comforting scent of vanilla and sugar filling the air. Your mother, in her element, was bustling around, gathering ingredients for a cake and cookies.

"Can you grab the eggs from the fridge, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice gentle.

You nodded, reaching into the refrigerator. As you handed her the carton, her hand brushed against your back, right where the still-healing bruises were. You flinched, unable to hide the sharp intake of breath.

Your mother's eyes widened, guilt flashing across her face. "I'm so sorry. Does..does it still...um hurt?" she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.

You forced a smile, shaking your head. "No, Mama, it's okay. It's getting better."

She hesitated, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of worry and sorrow. "I know I haven't... I haven't done enough to protect you," she said, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for that. I'm just... I’m so afraid of your father."

You placed a hand on her arm, trying to offer some comfort. "Mama, it's alright. I understand. Let's just focus on the baking, okay?"

Your mother nodded, her relief palpable. She turned back to the counter, trying to regain her composure. "So, have you noticed how Joel’s been coming to church more often lately?"

You tensed slightly at the mention of Joel, careful to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, I noticed."

Your mother smiled, though it was tinged with curiosity. "You know, he’s changed a lot over the years. He used to be so different when Sarah and his wife were alive."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity. You knew bits and pieces about Joel’s past but had never heard the full story. "What was he like back then?"

"Joel was a wonderful father and husband. He adored Sarah and Jane," your mother said, her eyes softening with nostalgia. "Jane and I were good friends. They were high school sweethearts, you know. Joel got Jane pregnant in high school, and they got married right after graduation. He worked so hard to provide for them."

You listened intently as your mother spoke, the rhythm of her words blending with the sounds of baking—mixing bowls clinking, the oven humming softly. Joel had never brought up his past daughter and wife when he was with you. It was as if a part of his heart was still locked away, guarded against the pain of revisiting those memories. You felt a mixture of sadness and curiosity, wishing he would open up to you but understanding his need to protect himself from that pain.

As your mother continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Joel’s heart was still closed off, like a house with the windows shuttered, sunlight struggling to seep through the cracks. "After they died, Joel was never the same," your mother said softly, her voice carrying the weight of her memories. "He isolated himself, barely spoke to anyone. He stopped coming to church, buried himself in work and alcohol. It was like the light went out of him."

You continued to bake, your hands moving automatically as you processed your mother's words. The more you learned, the more you understood the layers of grief and resilience that made up the man you had come to care for so deeply.

"Did you know his wife well?" you asked, curious about the woman who had once been such a significant part of Joel’s life. You felt a twinge of jealousy, knowing that Joel had once opened his heart fully to another woman, something he hadn't done with you yet.

Your mother nodded, her smile tinged with sadness. "Yes, she was one of my closest friends. Jane was kind and loving, always had a smile on her face. They were perfect together. Losing her was a blow Joel never really recovered from."

You felt a pang in your chest, imagining the life Joel had once had—a life filled with love and happiness that was abruptly shattered. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel empathy for him, understanding the depth of his loss and the strength it took for him to keep going.

Your mind swirling with thoughts. Joel had been through so much, yet he found the strength to care for Ellie and, in his own way, for you. He was like a fortress, strong and unyielding, yet vulnerable to the storms that battered him.

Your mother’s voice brought you back to the present. "Since he adopted Ellie, he's shown glimpses of the old Joel. But he still struggles. He’s still grumpy and distant. It was as if he built a wall around himself, shutting out the world to avoid more pain."

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of empathy for Joel. He had been through so much, yet he found a way to care for you and Ellie. "And now he's starting to come back to church," your mother said softly.

"It's good to see him more involved again. He deserves some happiness."

You smiled, though your heart was heavy with the knowledge of what you shared with Joel. "Yeah, he does," you agreed, hoping that somehow, against all odds, you could both find the happiness you deserved.

Your mom glanced at you, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "I wonder what’s changed in him," she mused. "Maybe he’s finally opening up his heart for another woman."

Your body tensed at her words. She continued, "Ever since he became a widower, there have been plenty of women interested in him. It’s a small town, you know. Everyone knows everything. But he's always been so... cold and distant. Joel is handsome, successful, and a gentleman. Don't tell your father I said that." She chuckled, and you just smile to her.

Inside, you couldn't help but agree. Joel was indeed handsome and a gentleman, so different from your father. Your father, who should have been the epitome of kindness and morality as a preacher, was anything but. His exterior was polished and righteous, but inside, he was rotten. Joel, on the other hand, seemed rough on the outside but was truly good at heart.

Your mother sighed, "It’s good for Joel, though. It’s about time he moved on and built a new life. Maybe he’ll find a nice woman his age, someone who can be a good mother to Ellie. Adam needs his Eve, after all."

Her words made you uncomfortable, a knot forming in your stomach. You couldn’t bear the thought of Joel with someone else. The jealousy gnawed at you, knowing your mother would lose her mind if she ever discovered you were the reason for Joel’s recent change. You also felt a pang of insecurity, realizing how much older Joel was, how he could practically be your father. There were so many women in town who were more age-appropriate for him, attractive and mature, whereas you felt small and insignificant in comparison.

You focused on mixing the batter, trying to push away the uncomfortable thoughts. "Yeah, maybe," you mumbled, not trusting yourself to say more.

Your mother didn't seem to notice your discomfort. She continued to chatter about the town gossip, but your mind was elsewhere. You wondered if Joel ever thought about these things—marry a nice woman and built a new life? You knew he cared for you, but could he see a future with you, or was this just a fleeting moment in his life?

As you finished the cake and placed it in the oven, you couldn't shake off the thoughts swirling in your head. Joel was a beacon of light in your life, but the future felt uncertain. You wished you could ask him, but the fear of his answer kept you silent.

The cookies were done baking, and your mother placed them in two jars. "Take these over to Joel’s house and then to Tommy's," she said, handing you the jars and placing them in a sturdy tote bag to make it easier to carry on your bike.

You nodded, appreciating the excuse to see Joel. As you rode your bike through the familiar streets, the wind swept across your face, carrying the sweet scent of summer and the promise of evening. The sky was a canvas of blue and orange, painting a picturesque scene straight out of a movie. You loved this town—the southern charm, the way everyone knew each other—but part of you hated it, longed to escape its confines and the shadows that lurked within your home.

Arriving at Joel’s house, one of the bigger ones in the neighborhood, you parked your bike in the driveway and grabbed one of the cookie jars. Knocking on the door, as you always did instead of using the bell, you expected Ellie to answer since Joel’s truck wasn’t in the driveway.

The door opened, and instead of Ellie, it was Joel standing there. His face softened the moment he saw you.

"Hey, Mr. Miller," you said, deliberately using his formal title to tease him a bit.

Joel chuckled, his eyes warm. "Hey, doll."

You lifted the jar slightly. "Mom sent some cookies. She thought you might like them."

Joel took the jar from your hands, his fingers brushing yours. "Oh, that's nice of her, well, do want to come in?"

"Maybe for a little," You followed him inside, the familiar coziness of his home wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Joel set the jar on the kitchen counter and turned to you, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

"You alright?" he asked, sensing your unease.

You smiled, trying to brush off your worries. "Yeah, just... thinking about stuff."

Joel stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your chin. His touch was rough but tender, sending shivers down your spine. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

You nodded, looking up into his eyes. They were deep pools of warmth and safety, and every time you looked into them, you felt like you could melt. "I know," you whispered.

For a moment, you just stood there, lost in each other's gaze. Joel’s eyes held something you couldn’t quite decipher, a mix of emotions that made your heart race. You giggled nervously, breaking the silence.

"What?" you asked, feeling self-conscious.

Joel shook his head slowly, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Nothin'."

You giggled again. "You have to stop looking at me like that."

Joel raised an eyebrow, still smiling. He's leaning in to kiss you, "Like what?"

You blushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Before Joel could kiss you, you both heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Quickly, you stepped away from each other.

"Oh, hey, I thought I heard someone knocking," Ellie said, entering the kitchen.

"Hey, Ellie," you greeted her. "My mom and I made some cookies, and she sent you some. I thought I’d drop by for a bit."

Ellie grinned and walked over to you and Joel. She glanced at Joel, noticing his slightly flushed face, and raised an eyebrow. "You okay, Joel?"

Joel cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, just, uh, a bit of dust or somethin'."

Ellie opened the jar and took a cookie. "These are great. Thanks!" She turned to you. Joel took a cookie as well, taking a bite and nodding in approval.

"You made this?" Joel asked, looking impressed.

You blushed a little. "Well, I just helping my mom."

"I take that as a yes and this is good," Joel said, his eyes warm.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a rush of warmth from his compliment.

Ellie turned her attention to you. "So, how’s school? I haven’t seen you much lately."

You shrugged. "Just busy with a lot of things."

Ellie nodded. "I heard you’re in charge of the church dance troupe for the event next week."

"Yeah," you said, smiling.

Ellie smirked playfully. "And I heard Pastor Ben picked you as soon as he saw you. I think he likes you."

Joel’s expression changed, his jaw tightening slightly. "Who's Ben?"

Ellie glanced at Joel, oblivious to his jealousy. "Pastor Ben is the new young pastor who’s going to be taking over while Father Gibson is away for a couple of weeks."

"Yeah," you added. "He’s just helping out while my dad is on a trip to New Orleans for the church."

Ellie nodded enthusiastically. "He's super popular with the girls at school. They all think he’s really handsome."

You laughed lightly, trying to diffuse the tension. "He’s just being friendly, Ellie."

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he forced a casual tone. "How old is he?"

"Not sure," Ellie said, shrugging. "Maybe late twenties?"

"Oh," he said.

Joel's face remained impassive, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his emotions. He didn’t want to show too much, to let on how much it bothered him that someone else might have an eye on you. After all, anyone would notice your beauty—your presence was like a beacon, drawing people in with your pure, radiant light. Men and boys alike found themselves captivated by you, your allure almost heavenly. Joel, despite not being religious, found himself silently praying that he could keep you to himself.

He knew that your beauty wasn’t just skin-deep. There was something about you that felt untouched, ethereal—a stark contrast to the gritty world he had come to know. You were his salvation, a glimpse of purity and hope in his otherwise dark and turbulent life.

Ellie changed the subject, sensing the awkwardness. "Anyway, are you excited about leading the dance troupe?"

"Yeah, it should be fun," you replied, grateful for the shift in conversation. "It’s a lot of work, but I think it’ll be worth it."

"Maybe you want to join, Ellie?" you said teasing her, "Oh hell nah," Ellie answered making a disgusting face, you chuckled.

Joel remained quiet, his eyes flicking between you and Ellie. You could tell he was still processing the idea of Pastor Ben, but he seemed to be trying to push it aside.

"Well, thanks for the cookies," Ellie said, taking another bite. "They’re delicious."

"Glad you like them," you said with a smile. "I should probably get going. I need to drop the other jar off at Tommy’s."

Joel’s expression softened as he looked at you. "Let me walk you out," he said. As Ellie remained engrossed in the cookies, Joel gently took your hand, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"When is your father leaving for New Orleans?" Joel asked in a low voice as he guided you towards the door.

"Tonight, around eight," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Joel’s eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Can you sneak out tonight?" he whispered, his hand lightly caressing yours.

You smirked and nodded, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

Joel’s eyes darted around, ensuring no one was watching. "I’ll pick you up behind your house at nine," he whispered, his voice a mix of excitement and caution. His rough hand felt like a contrast to your soft skin, a stark reminder of the different worlds you both came from, yet a perfect match in this moment.

You felt a flutter in your chest, a combination of anticipation and desire. His touch was electric, sending a rush of warmth through your veins. You wanted to hold onto this feeling, the thrill of the forbidden, the secret moments that were just for the two of you.

Joel leaned in and pressed a quick, sweet kiss to your cheek, ensuring no one was watching. You felt your heart race, the sensation of his lips lingering on your skin.

"I’ll see you later," he murmured, stepping back slightly. "Take care."

You nodded, trying to contain your excitement. "You too," you said softly, your voice tinged with the happiness you felt inside.

The whole way to Tommy’s house, you couldn’t stop blushing. Riding your bike, you felt the wind rush past you, the world around you vibrant and alive. The sky was a brilliant canvas of blue and orange, the southern landscape unfolding like a scene straight out of a movie. Each pedal felt lighter, the anticipation of the night ahead filling you with a sense of freedom and exhilaration.

Reaching Tommy’s house, you parked your bike and grabbed the jar of cookies. Knocking on the door, you took a deep breath, the smile on your face unshakeable. Tonight held the promise of something special, and you couldn’t wait to see Joel again.

The house was a quiet, still tableau of ordinary life, its corners cast in the muted hues of nightfall. Your mother’s soft, tired footsteps echoed as she busied herself with the last-minute preparations for your father’s departure. From your vantage point in the dimly lit room, you could hear the rumble of his stern, authoritative voice as he issued his final instructions for his absence.

“Behave yourself, Evelyn. Take care of your duties.” your father’s voice cut through the air like a blade to your mother, “Make sure the house is in order," He said to your mother.

Your mother then called you from downstairs. “Come say goodbye to your father before he leaves.”

You descended the stairs with a heavy heart, each step a reluctant march towards the formality of your father's departure. His figure loomed large in the dimly lit foyer, his stern face illuminated by the flickering light from the chandelier above. The space around him seemed to shrink under the weight of his presence, a constant reminder of his authority and control.

Your father, already dressed in his traveling attire, turned to face you as you approached. His expression was as impassive as ever, his eyes scanning you with a critical gaze that never quite softened. “I expect you to behave while I’m away. Keep things in order, take care of your house duties with your mother and don’t let any mischief slip through. Pastor Ben will be in charge for the next two weeks."

You offered a formal, almost mechanical embrace, your body stiff as you pressed against him. The touch was brief, a quick and emotionless exchange that spoke more of obligation than affection. His words felt like a final checklist, a list of expectations that you had long learned to adhere to.

With a nod, you managed a polite, “Yes, daddy."

As he turned to leave, he gave one last instruction, his voice trailing off as he stepped toward the door. “Remember, be a good Christian girl. Stay close to God. Make sure you’re not a burden to your mother.”

After he had gone, your mother’s weary voice called from the kitchen. “Sweetheart, would you like something to eat? There are leftovers in the fridge. I’m quite tired and I think I'm gonna go to bed early,”

You shook your head, feigning a lack of appetite. “No, I’m full, Mama. I’ll just head to bed.”

“Alright, dear,” she replied, her tone soft but tinged with fatigue. “Don’t forget to pray before you sleep.”

You watched her retreat to her room, her movements slow and burdened. The house felt emptier as she disappeared from view, and you knew it was time to execute your carefully laid plan.

With a quiet sigh, you slipped out of bed and crept to your window. The night was still and serene, the air cool against your skin as you pushed the window open. The backyard, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, felt like a secret world just waiting to be explored.

You carefully climbed out of the window, landing softly on the grass below. The night sky was a canvas of stars, each one a twinkling reminder of the possibilities that lay beyond the confines of your everyday life. The cool breeze ruffled your hair, carrying with it the scents of the garden—jasmine, freshly cut grass, and the distant promise of freedom.

In the darkness, Joel’s truck waited, a silent sentinel against the backdrop of the night. The vehicle was cloaked in shadows, its lights off to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. Your heart raced with anticipation as you approached, the thrill of the forbidden making your steps lighter and faster.

Sliding into the truck, you were greeted by Joel’s familiar presence. His face, partially illuminated by the dim interior light, softened as he saw you. A warm smile spread across his lips, his eyes sparkling with the same excitement that you felt.

Before you could say a word, Joel’s lips met yours in a passionate kiss. It was a moment of pure, unrestrained connection, the outside world falling away as the heat of his touch enveloped you. The kiss was fervent, a melding of stolen desires and whispered promises, each touch a testament to the intimacy you shared.

Joel’s hands were rough and warm, their contrast to your soft skin sending a shiver through your body. As he pulled away, his eyes held a deep, unspoken affection that spoke louder than any words could. “Hey there, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm in the quiet cabin.

The truck’s engine roared to life, a low, rumbling purr that vibrated through the seats. The world outside seemed to blur as Joel drove through the empty streets, the city lights casting fleeting golden streaks across the windshield. Each streetlamp was a beacon in the darkness, guiding you through a night that felt like a dream.

With every mile that passed, the weight of your ordinary life lifted, replaced by the vivid colors of this stolen moment. The night sky above was a tapestry of dreams and possibilities, a perfect backdrop for the intimate adventure you were embarking upon.

The truck rolled to a gentle stop at the top of a secluded hill, its path winding through the darkened landscape like a secret road leading to a hidden sanctuary. The night sky stretched out above, an endless canvas dotted with twinkling stars, their cold light a delicate contrast to the warm cocoon of the truck's interior. Joel’s touch was a constant comfort, the warmth of his hand against yours a promise of the intimacy you shared.

You and Joel made your way to the truck's open bed, where a soft blanket had been laid out. The fabric was cool beneath you, but the warmth of Joel’s body beside you quickly dispelled any chill. You settled in together, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace as you both lay back to gaze at the sprawling expanse of the cosmos.

The night was a silent witness to your closeness, the stars above flickering like distant, celestial eyes. The moon hung low, casting a soft, silvery light over the landscape, making the moment feel surreal and dreamlike. Joel’s presence was a soothing balm, his breaths steady and calming against the backdrop of the night.

As you both lay there, the peacefulness of the night was punctuated by your conversation. The topics ranged from trivial to profound, each word a thread weaving the tapestry of your shared moment. The serenity of the night made every laugh and whisper seem more intimate, more precious.

Then, Joel’s voice broke the quiet, a hint of curiosity lacing his words. “Tell me more about this Ben,” he asked, his tone light but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

You chuckled, rolling onto your side to face him. “Ben? Oh, he’s just this new pastor. He’s always paying attention to me, it's weird...my friends keep telling me like he likes me, but he's not really my type. He's...too boyish,” you said, trying to convey your disinterest.

Joel’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Boyish? He’s an adult.”

You smiled, playfully snuggling closer. “Yeah, but he’s not you.”

Joel’s eyes flickered with something akin to jealousy, though he quickly masked it with a nonchalant shrug. “Jealous?” you teased, noticing the subtle shift in his demeanor.

Joel gave a soft chuckle, his laughter mingling with the ambient sounds of the night. “I’m not jealous.”

You continued to tease him, your light-hearted jokes breaking through the quiet night air. Each laugh and playful nudge seemed to draw you both closer, your bond solidified by the shared humor and intimacy of the moment.

However, your mind wandered back to the conversation you’d overheard with your mother. The stories of Joel’s past, of Sarah and Jane, lingered like shadows at the edge of your thoughts. A wave of curiosity and a tinge of apprehension washed over you.

“Joel,” you began tentatively, your voice barely above a whisper, “how come you never tell me about your life?"

"What do you mean, doll?"

"About Sarah and Jane,"

Joel’s body stiffened beside you, his hand retracting from its position on your waist. The shift was palpable, a stark contrast to the easy closeness you’d just shared. His face hardened slightly, a veil of discomfort settling over his features.

He looked away, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice guarded and distant.

You felt a pang of regret, your heart aching at the sight of his discomfort. The stars above, once a symbol of wonder and possibility, now felt like distant witnesses to a moment of unspoken pain. You struggled to find the right words, the metaphors of your own emotions becoming tangled in the reality of Joel’s guarded heart.

“I...I just want to understand,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. “I know about your life, but it feels like there’s so much more you haven’t shared.”

"And you knew about mine, all of it," you said again.

Joel’s silence was heavy, a deep, almost tangible weight that pressed against your chest. The night seemed to stretch on forever, the stars above a cold, indifferent audience to the emotions playing out beneath them. The warmth of Joel’s touch was still there, but it now felt like a fragile thread, tenuous and delicate.

Joel’s gaze softened, but the weight of his past seemed to anchor him, pulling him into a place he wasn’t ready to share. “It’s not easy to talk about,” he admitted, his voice trembling with a mixture of regret and sadness. “Some things are just too hard to revisit.”

Your heart ached at his vulnerability, and you reached out, your voice gentle. “You can open up to me, Joel. I want to listen. You always listen whenever I’m down. I’m here with you,”

Joel’s eyes flickered with a storm of emotions, a mix of frustration and something else, but he remained quiet. You pressed on, your fingers lightly grazing his hand. “Do you ever think about them?"

A tense silence followed, Joel’s expression darkening. He clenched his jaw, struggling with the weight of his emotions. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, his voice strained and edged with anger.

You tried to close the distance, your hand still resting on his. “Joel, it’s okay to open up.”

But before you could say more, Joel’s frustration erupted. “I just don't want to talk about it!” he snapped, his voice sharp and louder than you’d ever heard.

You flinched, your heart racing as the sudden intensity of his reaction hit you. The night, once a haven of comfort and connection, now felt oppressive, the stars above seeming distant and indifferent to the turmoil unfolding below.

Joel’s eyes widened as he saw the fear in your gaze, and his anger dissipated almost immediately, replaced by regret and sorrow. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—”

You tried to steady yourself, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. “It’s okay,” you whispered, though your voice wavered. “I’m sorry."

Joel’s face crumpled with remorse, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. “No, no, it’s alright,” he said urgently, his hands trembling as they held you close. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You let yourself sink into his embrace, the warmth of his body a balm against the sharp edges of your fear. Joel’s arms were strong and reassuring, his apologies sincere as he gently stroked your back, his touch a contrast to the harshness of his earlier words.

The night around you seemed to settle, the tension easing as Joel’s grip tightened, holding you as if he could shield you from the weight of his own emotions. The stars above continued to shine, their distant light a reminder of the vastness of the world and the smallness of your own worries in the grand scheme of things.

Joel’s voice was soft now, filled with the weight of his remorse. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just...I just can’t talk about it right now.”

You nestled closer against Joel, the warmth of his body enveloping you in a cocoon of comfort. “It’s okay, Joel,” you murmured softly, your voice a gentle caress against the backdrop of the night. “I’m sorry to push you, but I want you to know that I am here. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be right here, just like you are for me.”

Joel’s fingers brushed against your hair, a tender gesture that spoke volumes. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, a whisper of affection that traveled down to your cheek and finally to your lips. The kiss was brief but sweet, a promise of connection and understanding. He pulled you back into his embrace, both of you gazing up at the star-speckled sky.

The vastness of the night felt like a canvas, stretching out endlessly before you. You could feel the weight of your desires and dreams mingling with the cool night air, and a yearning for freedom began to take shape in your heart. “Joel,” you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “I want to go out. I want to get away from all of this. Will you come with me one day?”

The sincerity in your voice carried a longing for escape, for a fresh start where the past could no longer cast its shadow. You wanted to run away, to leave behind the chains of hurt and disappointment and start anew with Joel by your side. The dream of leaving it all behind, just the two of you, was intoxicating—a chance to be free from the constraints of your everyday lives and the ghosts of your pasts.

Joel’s eyes met yours, a flicker of determination lighting up his features. He could see the raw honesty in your gaze, the hope that shimmered like the stars above. “I promise you,” he said, his voice steady and sincere, “one day, we will. We’ll get out of here and start fresh. Just you and me.”

You felt a flutter of relief and happiness at his words, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from your heart. The idea of a future together, unburdened by the past, seemed within reach now, a possibility painted against the backdrop of the night sky. Joel’s promise was a beacon of hope, a light guiding you through the darkness.

You lay there, side by side, under the vast expanse of the universe, the stars shining brightly above you. The night felt endless, full of potential and promise. The warmth of Joel’s presence, the softness of his touch, and the certainty of his promise wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, making the future seem just a little bit brighter.

In the quiet moments that followed, you allowed yourself to dream of a different life, one where the past was a distant memory and the present was filled with endless possibilities. With Joel by your side, the journey ahead felt less daunting, and the dreams of escape and freedom seemed like they could one day become a beautiful reality.

***

The sun cast a warm, golden light over the school grounds as you and your classmates, including Emma, practiced your dance routines for the upcoming church event. The afternoon air was filled with the sounds of music and the rustle of your movements as you and your friends rehearsed, perfecting every step and spin. The new Pastor Ben, fresh from Mexico with his wife Jemima, observed with an encouraging smile, his presence adding an extra layer of excitement to the practice.

Pastor Ben, young and charismatic, was the center of attention for many of the girls. His charm and good looks had quickly made him popular, and you could see why. Though you knew he was married, the admiration from your friends was palpable. Jemima, his wife, had been less present in the community, focusing on settling into their new life. You hadn’t interacted with her much, and you were more familiar with Ben’s friendly demeanor and the sparkle in his eyes that made him somehow likable among your friends.

As the practice came to a close, you and Emma walked outside the school, discussing the day’s rehearsals and sharing your thoughts on the choreography. The conversation was light-hearted, filled with giggles and the occasional sigh as you both reflected on the challenges and progress made.

Suddenly, Pastor Ben appeared beside you, his presence both surprising and pleasant. “Afternoon, girls. How did the practice go today?” he asked, his attention clearly focused on you.

You could feel the warmth of his gaze as he continued, “Any difficulties? How are you finding the choreography?”

You answered, your voice steady but with a hint of nervousness, “We’re making good progress. There were a few tricky moves, but we’re getting there.”

Ben nodded, his eyes never straying far from you. “You’re doing really well. I’ve noticed you’ve been putting in a lot of effort. It shows.”

Emma, ever the enthusiastic friend, chimed in, “Oh, we’re just working hard! It’s been a lot of fun, though. Don’t you think Pastor Ben has been so encouraging?”

Ben smiled at her but turned his attention back to you. “I’m glad to hear that. I just wanted to check in and see how everyone’s doing. Is there anything you need help with?”

You felt a mix of emotions—flattered by his attention but also a bit uncomfortable given the context of the situation. Ben’s genuine interest was clear, but it was hard not to feel like you were under a spotlight.

“Thank you, Pastor Ben. I think we’re okay for now. It’s just a matter of practice,” Emma said.

He nodded, “If any of you ever need any extra guidance or just want to talk, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m here to help.”

As Pastor Ben walked away, you felt a twinge of relief mixed with lingering confusion. You were still processing the interaction when Ellie’s familiar voice broke through, startling you slightly.

“Oh, that’s Pastor Ben,” Ellie said, a playful tone in her voice. She tapped you on the shoulder, making Emma and you turn to face her.

Emma grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yep, that’s the new hot pastor,"

Ellie looked between you and Emma with a knowing smile. “So, what’s the gossip on Pastor Ben?”

Before Emma could answer, you asked Ellie if she was heading home. Ellie shook her head, her excitement palpable. “Nope, I’m going out with Joel. We’re going to practice shooting. You know, for deer hunting. Joel and I usually do this.”

Just then, the sound of a truck horn pierced the air, and Ellie waved enthusiastically. “Ah, there’s Joel now. See you later, guys!”

You watched as Ellie walked toward the truck, your gaze meeting Joel’s for a brief moment. You tried to hide your blush, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest whenever Joel was near.

Emma then suddenly said, "Ah the town's DILF,"

You choked caught off guard. “What did you just say?”

Emma laughed, leaning in conspiratorially. “You know, DILF—‘Dad I’d Like to’—you know the type. Joel’s like the ultimate Southern gentleman. He’s got that rugged charm. He looks like he works with his hands, and I bet he smells like Marlboro Reds. Everyone’s talking about how lucky Ellie is. Goddamn, he's just hot,"

You felt your cheeks flush deeper, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “Emma, stop. He’s much older than us.”

Emma raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh come on, you’re telling me you’ve never thought about Joel that way? I mean, he’s your dad’s best friend in high school, but just tell me you have right?”

You glared at Emma, trying to hide the twinge of jealousy you felt. “Emma, that’s inappropriate."

Emma pouted in mock innocence. “Oh, come on! Don’t be so uptight. We’re just talking. I’m sure you’ve had some thoughts, especially with how close you are with Joel right?"

You shook your head, trying to suppress the tumult of emotions bubbling inside you. “Seriously, Emma, I don’t want to talk about this.”

Emma grinned, undeterred. “Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. But you have to admit, Joel’s a pretty interesting guy.”

You gave her a half-smile, trying to brush off the teasing. “Emma..."

Emma’s grin remained as she walked alongside you, her excitement infectious despite your lingering discomfort. You both made your way home, your thoughts tangled with the events of the day.

As you approached your house, Emma’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Hey, you know what? My parents are out tonight. How about a sleepover at my place? We can hang out and have some fun. It’ll be a nice break before graduation.”

You hesitated, “I don’t know, Em. I’ve got a lot to prepare for graduation.”

Emma’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, come on! It’ll be fun. Jim will be there too, and he’s a blast. Plus, you’ll have me to keep you entertained. What’s the harm?”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask your reluctance. “I don’t want to be the third wheel.”

Emma’s expression softened as she playfully pleaded. “Oh, please. It’ll be fine. Just come hang out. If you don’t, my parents might not let Jim over if it's just both of us. Pretty please?”

You sighed, weighing your options. Emma’s persistence was hard to resist, and you knew it would be a good chance to take your mind off things. “Alright, alright. I’ll come. But let me ask my mom first.”

Emma’s face lit up with joy. “Yes! Thank you! I promise we’ll have a great time.”

As you walked inside your house, you found your mom in the kitchen, preparing a simple dinner for herself. The smell of food filled the air, a comforting reminder of home.

“Mom, Emma invited me to a sleepover at her house tonight,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Is it okay if I go?”

Your mom looked up, her face reflecting mild surprise but also understanding. “A sleepover? Well, I suppose it’s fine. Just be sure to come home early tomorrow."

You nodded, relieved by her response. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be back early.”

With your mother’s approval, you quickly gathered your things and headed back outside to meet Emma. Her excitement was palpable as she waited for you by the front gate.

“Great! Let’s go!” Emma chirped, grabbing your hand and leading the way.

As you walked to Emma’s house, your mind was still clouded by the earlier events. The thought of spending the evening with Emma and Jim was a welcome distraction from the swirl of emotions you had been feeling. You hoped it would be a chance to relax and clear your head before facing whatever came next.

Hours later, the three of you were lounging in Emma’s cozy living room, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows on the walls. After an exciting board game session, you settled down to watch "Gone with the Wind." Emma and Jim sat close together on the couch, their whispered conversations blending with the movie's dialogue. You tried to focus on the screen, but their growing intimacy was hard to ignore.

Emma giggled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. You glanced over just in time to see them exchanging a tender kiss. Their kisses grew more passionate, and soon they were making out fervently. You turned your attention back to the movie, trying to block out the sounds of their affection, but it was no use.

"I'm going to take Jim to my bedroom," Emma said, her cheeks flushed. "Is it okay if you stay here alone?"

You nodded, your heart pounding. "Yeah, it's fine. I want to finish the movie anyway."

Emma smiled and led Jim to her room, leaving you alone in the dimly lit living room. The hours passed slowly, the film a distant backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your mind. Their muffled voices and occasional moans filtered through the walls, filling you with a mix of curiosity and discomfort.

The next morning, you woke early and decided to make breakfast for everyone. The smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filled the kitchen as you worked. Emma was the first to join you, her hair tousled and eyes bright.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she said, giving you a warm smile. “Did you have fun playing board games last night?”

You returned her smile, feeling a genuine sense of friendship. "Yeah, it was fun. Thanks for inviting me."

Emma smiling to you, "You're a good friend," you smiled at her.

You hesitated at first, then asked the question that had been on your mind. "So, uh... about last night... did you and Jim...?"

Emma blushed slightly but didn't shy away. "You mean, am I not a virgin anymore? Yes. and I'm really in love with Jim. He's so kind and supportive. We’re thinking about getting married after we graduate, moving to a big city like Austin or Houston to start our lives together. He can work in a garage, and I'll stay home."

Her words made you think of Joel, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. "Have you ever been in love?" Emma asked, noticing your pensive expression.

“I don’t know,” you replied hesitantly. “I think about someone a lot, but I’m not sure what it means.”

“And have you ever... you know, had sex?” Emma asked.

Your body tensed, the memory of Jamie’s forceful actions coming to mind. You decided to lie and shook your head.

“Typical preacher’s daughter, stay pure, hon,” Emma said, her tone sincere rather than mocking.

You swallowed, feeling a mix of discomfort and curiosity. “How does it feel like?”

Emma’s expression softened. “Well, when you’re with someone you truly care about, it can be really special. It’s not just about the physical aspect, but the emotional connection. It’s like sharing something deeply personal with someone you love and who loves you back. It can feel very intimate and fulfilling.”

You nodded, trying to understand her words. “But isn’t it scary? Does it hurt?”

Emma smiled gently. “It can be, especially the first time. But when you’re with someone who respects you and makes you feel safe, it’s a lot easier. It’s important that you feel comfortable and loved.”

You took in her words, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “What if I’m not ready for that yet?”

Emma reassured you. “That’s completely okay. There’s no rush. It’s important to wait until you feel ready and comfortable. And remember, there are other ways to show affection and care for someone.”

You felt a bit of relief. “Like what?”

Emma leaned in slightly, her voice gentle. “Like, for example, giving him oral pleasure. It’s a way to show that you care about him and want to make him feel good. But it’s really important that you’re comfortable with whatever you choose to do. Communication and mutual respect are key in any relationship.”

You blushed, feeling a mix of curiosity and embarrassment. “I don’t know much about that. It sounds kind of… complicated.”

Emma smiled warmly. “It can seem that way, but you’ll learn what feels right for you and your partner as you go along. The most important thing is to have open conversations and make sure you’re both on the same page.”

You nodded, absorbing her advice. “Thanks for explaining."

Emma’s words lingered in your mind as you processed what she had said. The idea of intimacy was something you hadn’t explored deeply, shaped by the teachings you’d grown up with. Your father’s sermons had painted it as an ultimate sin, a taboo wrapped in layers of guilt and religious doctrine. The notion of sex had always been shadowed by the fear of moral failure, a breach of sacred promises that could never be undone.

Emma’s perspective, however, was a stark contrast. She spoke of intimacy as a beautiful, shared experience between two people who cared deeply for each other. It wasn’t just a physical act but a manifestation of affection and connection. It was a way to express love, to show that you cherish someone in the most personal and vulnerable way.

You thought about Joel, and how his kindness had touched you. His presence was like a gentle light breaking through a stormy sky—offering warmth, comfort, and a sense of security you had rarely felt before. The idea of pleasing him, of sharing something deeply intimate, seemed like a way to express your gratitude, to show him how much you valued his care and support.

It was as if you were standing at the edge of a beautiful, uncharted garden, its entrance hidden behind a veil of mist and uncertainty. The garden represented a space of connection, where the blossoms of affection and mutual respect could flourish. The thought of stepping into this garden with Joel was both thrilling and daunting. It was a step into the unknown, where the flowers of shared experiences and emotional intimacy awaited.

You contemplated the possibility of finding a way to share this garden with Joel, to offer him a gesture of affection that went beyond words. Maybe through a physical expression of care, you could bridge the gap between your feelings and his, creating a shared space where love could grow and flourish.

Emma’s reassurance and gentle explanations provided a new perspective, one that allowed you to see intimacy not as a forbidden act but as a potential expression of love and appreciation. You wondered if perhaps, in time, you could navigate this new terrain with Joel, guided by mutual respect and deep affection.

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