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pedrospatch · 2 years ago

Text

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

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

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess.

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise.

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite.

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside.

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look.

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude.

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you.

Could Frank actually be right?

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut.

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch smells heavenly—Frank knows it’s your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart.

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly.

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant.

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in.

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair.

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum.

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe.

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside.

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking long since anyone had ever touched him like that.

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that.

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…”

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain.

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage.

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face.

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness.

But he was yours too.

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relia-robot-writes · 2 months ago

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The slide projector clicked, and the lecturer at the front of the dark classroom gestured at the picture on the wall. "This," she said, "is a normal, healthy clockwork doll."

The picture displayed a porcelain doll, arms at its side, and that same doll opened up to reveal the clockwork inside. There were a few titters from the audience.

"Oh, come now, you'll be proper witches soon. You can't be giggling at the first sight of clockwork or you'll never get anything done." There was a click as the slide projector advanced, and a low murmur spread through the class at the sight of the new image. Evidently the same doll on the left, but on the right the clockwork had been completely replaced with a green slime. "Physarum Keramimesis, also called the doll mimic. This is the third stage of its life cycle, where it forms a hard pseudo-ceramic shell and moves about in search of a place to release its spores. Some specimens have been shown to be highly intelligent, for a simple slime. They can be taken in and given orders much like a doll, but do not possess true loyalty. Note the slight deviation of the runes here on the upper arms and torso, as well as the slight discoloration of the hair at the roots. This variety is harmless, however..."

The slide projector advanced again, and this time there were gasps of alarm. The left side once again looked identical, but the right side had green slime all around the existing clockwork, jamming it in place. "Phytomexia Plasmokeramikos. A parasitic slime mold that spreads from doll to doll, preventing it from displaying signs of illness. Like Keramimesis, it has enough intelligence to follow orders, but unlike Keramimesis, most of its 'cleaning' activities are actually spreading spores within its environment in the hopes of infecting other nearby dolls. There are still signs, though - note the discoloration at the joints, particularly nearest to the torso." The projector clicked again to show the doll surrounded by a greenish-yellow aura. "And here, through thaumic resonance, the aura can be seen leaking into the doll's standard aura."

Uneasy murmurs spread through the classroom for a moment, only to be interrupted by the lecturer swinging her pointer down on the table. "But! This slime must not be confused with our following slime!"

The projector clicked again. The doll on the left once again appeared identical, and on the right, the same green slime - but this time, instead of attaching itself to the clockwork, it lined the inside of the porcelain like a second shell. "Physarum Parakeramikos, also known as 'The Doll's Helper'. Although this slime has the same appearance as Plasmokeramikos, this slime actually enters into a symbiotic relationship with the doll. It can repair hairline fractures within the doll's porcelain, prevent particles such as Plasmokeramikos spores from entering the doll, and generally improve the doll's lifespan and responsiveness. It is unfortunate that in their early life cycles, Plasmokeramikos and Parakeramikos appear extremely similar. The rest of today's lecture will primarily be on how to distinguish between the parasite and the symbiote. This will be on the mid-term, so please be sure to take notes."

There was assorted grumbling from the room as the audience shuffled around for pencils and notebooks.

#relia writes #microfiction #dollposting #slimeposting

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huboi · 10 months ago

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POLY! SATOSUGU ˖ . ☆

MINORS DNI!!!

╰┈➤ includes; poly satosugu ft gn! reader, a separate part where reader is afab and how they comfort you during period time, shoko is included because she’s a #girl boss, separate nsfw part, they didn’t have the kfc breakup in this so dw

╰┈➤ a/n; the shibuya arc destroyed me and I’m in desperate need for fluff, reader’s a sub (sos to all the tops/switches, I’m just a sub at heart)

these guys are complete opposites

but in a good way that they pretty much compliment each other

when you entered their life, they were smitten

they were both dating before you came into their life, they never thought of having another partner but then you came along and boom

satoru is a clingy bastard

this goes for both you and suguru

neither of you guys are safe from the menace that is satoru

he’s clingy but you guys love him for that, cause that means cuddle piles 24/7 when you’re all free and not busy with killing curses etc.

suguru is the peace keeper in a sense, he’s the most chill

like if there’s ever an argument between you guys, he’s usually the one that encourages communication

my guy knows that communication is very important in order to maintain a healthy, happy long lasting relationship

suguru shows affection more subtlety than gojo

instead of rushing towards you as soon as you come home, he instead has food ready for you if you’re hungry, if not then he just puts it in the fridge for later

one thing suguru loves is having his hair played with, you can brush it, braid it, anything, he’s like a Barbie doll

speaking of hair when you guys are sleeping, 9 times out of 10 you will find sugurus hair in your mouth, even if it’s tied in a neat bun (which he doesn’t usually do since he likes having his hair down when sleeping/relaxing)

geto is very caring and reminds you of a mother/father figure, since he always asks you and gojo wether you’ve eaten, had something to drink etc.

not in the overbearing way either, he just wants to make sure his loves are in top condition :3

shoko is the no.1 wing woman, like she roots for you guys all the time, she’s so glad that this chaotic duo found you

if you ever wanna hang out with her without the boys, you usually have to sneak out since gojo is really reluctant on letting you go without him, not in a toxic way, he’s just really fucking clingy and so wants to be around you as much as possible

but as soon as you tell him suguru’s coming home when you’re gone, he instantly plans out the little date they have whilst you go out with shoko

speaking of dates, they’re either spent in a fancy ass restaurant for dinner, or a causal night in with take out whilst watching a movie, gojo insisting on horror even though you and suguru both know he’ll piss his pants and hide behind a pillow throughout the whole film

shoko fourth wheels you guys a lot, even though suguru tends to not show affection outside of the house, gojo lives for PDA

like when you guys are walking, he’ll slither between your bodies so he’s in the middle, only to grab both of your hands and intertwine them🥹

gojo is also a big fan of cheek/forehead kisses

yes he loves kissing you on the lips but that’s more so for in the house

gojo tends to get very grumpy when you don’t reciprocate his affectionate gestures, but dw you can cheer him up by bribing him with his favourite sweets, it usually works, if not that then you can make it up to him in the bedroom *wink wink*

when sleeping gojo tends to spread out his long ass limbs as far as they can go, which leaves you and suguru barely any space

gojo defo snores, man sounds like a whole ass tractor at best, at worst a bloody horn that you hear on ships

suguru doesn’t snore, he just mumbles in his sleep sometimes, which is cute low-key

gojo is a light sleeper (due to his six eyes) and suguru is a heavy sleeper, like you have to suffocate him with a pillow to wake him tf up sometimes

whenever you have a cold/are sick, the boys become so doting, satoru somehow becoming even more clingy even though you keep on warning him that he may also get sick too, cocky bastard claiming ‘I won’t since I’m the strongest’ only to, unsurprisingly, have the exact same illness once you’re better

if you struggle with mental health a lot, the boys will do pretty much anything to help you out

gojo usually prefers to buy you loads of sugar/sweets if that’s your thing, if not then he will cuddle you and just be there for you

suguru understands since he has struggled with mental health in the past and is there for you if you want to vent/rant to someone

if you are neurodivergent then they will try their best to help with your needs

eg. if you’re overstimulated they will bring you to the closest quiet area and help you calm down wether via hugs and kisses or giving you some alone time

same goes for if you have a disability eg. you use a wheelchair etc. they are very supportive and they don’t care as in you’re still the love of their life no matter what

IF READER HAS A PERIOD (feel free to skip this if you don’t get periods)

they obviously don’t understand how painful periods can be, but they don’t make any negative comments about it

when you have terrible cramps their hearts ache as they can’t really do much other than giving you medication, hot water bottle and tea

suguru tends to place his hand on your stomach if you want to of course

if you’re craving foods, they will get them for you

mainly gojo tho cause he also loves food

when you get emotional they kinda just stand there like 🧍

one time you cried over suguru giving you a forehead kiss, he was very concerned

bro was worried he somehow upset you :(

they definitely go to shoko for some more advice on how to comfort you when you’re on your period

gojo defo says ‘apperantly orgasms can relief period cramps sooo’

you slapped him in the face

NSFW SECTION!

CW: DOM/SUB DYNAMICS, SWITCH! GOJO, BRAT! GOJO, SPANKING, SOFT DOM! GETO, BRAT TAMER! GETO, SUB!READER, AFTERCARE

when it comes to sexy times, geto is always the one in charge

sometimes gojo gets ahead of himself and forgets his place, only to be spanked till his ass is red by suguru

suguru loves praising you so much, he hates it when you misbehave and he has to spank you

gojo loves spanking you on the other hand, he also loves receiving a spanking from suguru

if gojo misbehaves one thing suguru loves to do is tie him up and make him watch as geto fucks you dumb

gojo cant touch himself, and if he does then he has to have a vibrator on his cock and not cum for 30 mins whilst watching geto fuck you yet again

satoru has a high sex drive and can seemingly go on for hours on end

suguru has a high sex drive too, but it’s not as high as gojos’

gojo’s a horny bastard :(

sometimes you will find yourself being woken up by gojo giving you head in the morning

yes suguru does find out, one way or another, and punishes gojo for giving you head without getos permission (dw gojo and geto both have ur consent to do sexy stuff to you whilst you sleep, you guys all agreed on this in the beginning of the relationship)

suguru prefers giving head over receiving, since he loves making either you or gojo moan out his name whilst he gives you delicious head

gojo prefers receiving but sometimes enjoys giving

gojo mainly prefers receiving from you since unlike geto you don’t tease him

geto’s a fucking tease in the bedroom, to both of you but mainly gojo since he’s so bratty and suguru hates that (secretly loves it)

sometimes gojo will fuck you whilst he gets fucked by geto

aftercare is a MUST for both gojo and geto

especially after an intense session

sometimes you end up slipping into sub space which can be a problem since they both hate seeing you that way

they instantly cover you with kisses, hugs and so much praise

bath time always happens after, the boys joining you

you even have a little snack or a big snack depending on how rough the session was

after you’re all taken care of, the boys and you hop into a clean, fresh bed and fall asleep in each others’ arms <3

I ONLY POST ON TUMBLR, IF YOU SEE MY FANFICTION ON OTHER WEBSITES LET ME KNOW ASAP

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mrsdesade · 2 months ago

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Hey, could you write a homelander x reader where she works at Vought and unknowingly gets his attention and he stalks her?

Hi dear anon, thanks for your patience!! I don't have much time to write full fics these days, because life is happening and I'm very busy physically and mentally, but I can happily offer some headcanons 💕

Homelander's obsessive behaviors headcanons

First of all, his romantic gestures, while seemingly sweet, are often rooted in his need for control and his inability to understand healthy relationships. His actions can be seen as manipulative and even frightening, especially when considering his overall personality and powers.

Constant surveillance: He would employ his super hearing and x-ray vision to keep a constant watch on you. He might use these abilities to monitor your home, workplace, or any other place you frequently visit.

Data collection: He'd collect as much information as possible about his current obsession: you. This could include your daily routines, social media activity, and even your deepest fears and desires. He might use his Vought resources to access private databases.

Preserving memories: Homelander might keep a collection of items that remind him of you, like a lock of your hair or a piece of your clothing. Oh God If you gift something to him, he's going to cherish this like a museum piece.

Love bombing: He'll shower you with love and attention, he loves doing it, especially at the beginning of the relationship, to reel you in.

Unwanted gifts: Homelander would often leave small, often expensive gifts for his favourite persons in unexpected places. These gifts could be anything from flowers to jewelry, and they would always be personalized to show how well he knows you. Often with small notes inside. Doll, baby, my girl, nicknames are on plate.

Sudden appearances: Homelander would frequently appear where you least expects him. He might show up at yor work, your home, or even a random location you're visiting. At least three times at week, minimum.

Testing your loyalty: He might create situations to test your loyalty to him. This could involve putting you in a difficult position or asking you to do something that makes you uncomfortable.

Excessive praise: When you two are together he would shower you with compliments, often going overboard and making you feel uncomfortable. He might even compare you to other people, always putting you on a pedestal. You're his precious treasure and he loves you so goddamn much.

Isolation tactics: He might try to isolate you from their friends and family at some point, making you believe that he is the only one who truly understands your needs.

Future planning: He might make elaborate plans for your future together, down to the smallest details, without ever consulting you. He'll make grand plans for the two of you for sure. This could include things like buying a house together or having children.

Gaslighting: If you decide to start to question his behavior, Homelander might resort to gaslighting. He could make you doubt their own perceptions and memories, making you believe that you're just imagining things.

Public displays of affection: Homelander might engage in very public displays of affection, such as putting his arm around you in front of a crowd, or giving you a very long, lingering kiss. This is partly to show off his "perfect couple" image, but also to mark his territory.

Obsession with physical touch: Homelander might find ways to touch you, in every moment, he need that, even if it's just brushing against them or holding their hand. He would crave any form of physical contact.

Nightmares and sleep disturbances: His obsession for you would consume his thoughts, leading to vivid nightmares and difficulty sleeping. He might even develop a fear of losing you really easily. Despite his outward confidence, Homelander has a deep-seated fear of being abandoned. This fear can lead him to become increasingly possessive and controlling.

-------

Thanks again for the request, enjoy! Kisses kisses! 💕

#the boys #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander the boys #homelander fanfiction #homelander x y/n #homelander x you #homelander x oc #the boys fanfic #the boys series #my post #ask box #the boys headcanons

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hastyprovocateur · 9 months ago

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Mizu, Akemi and Gender as a weapon

Mizu's masculinity isn't something she dislikes or is seeking to be rid of. Even at her most feminine, Mizu is still androgynous. Not limited by gender performances, stereotypes and beliefs. It's all part of her. The doting lover, the skilled samurai, the knifemaker, the patron of arts. It just creates internal conflict when she's unable to connect to her femininity in a gendered society, knowing that her femininity will be seen as weakness. On the flipside, we know Mizu suppressed masculine parts of herself in her marriage with the expectation that they'll become a deal-breaker which also wasn't healthy. Mizu doesn't need the go-ahead to be traditionally feminine, she just needs space or a person/people who will allow her be herself without nitpicking parts of her. In that vein, I also wanna address how Akemi is also masculine in her own ways.

Just because she doesn't wield a sword or has an androgynous bodytype, doesn't mean that Akemi isn't masculine (the social understanding of it). She is very much so in her own right. Seki, her tutor, keeps aligning her with her father claiming that they have the same conviction in their beliefs in which their roots are unshakeable. This lays out how traits of power seeking, ambition, stark independence and intelligence that her father prides himself on are discouraged in Akemi as she's a woman. She is politically informed, highly educated and sexually dominant. She is calculative, express in her expertise at Go, something she's been better than grown men at since she was 12. Seki tells her that beyond just surviving in her marital home, she is equipped to succeed, expand her territory, find people's vulnerabilities, capture and win. That she can learn to do anything she wants and be whoever she wants, even if the goal is to become the ruler of Japan. In that same episode, Mizu is parallel to Akemi where she seeks wisdom from Master Eiji to exact an artful revenge where he proceeds to tell her that he didn't train her to be a demon or a human but he showed her how to be an artist. That revenge, swords, pots, noodles are all the same to an artist. The goal is to learn to be good at something. Anything. Mizu's pursuit of revenge is as masculine as Akemi's pursuit of power. They are both capable of learning. Of being successful. They are both elements of their own destiny. Water. Fire.

It doesn't matter what the means used are if the objective is one and the same. Akemi learnt this throughout season 1. That to evolve oneself guarantees success over only changing the scenario by running. Like Mizu, Akemi works with what she has. She is feminine presenting, enhanced through the princess finery, she can't fight but she uses her beauty, charm and wit to execute her plans and bend men to her will. Mizu attempted to maneuvere this same tactic after Mikio called her a monster, dolling up like on her wedding day to appease to his masculinity but it only pushed her towards the one thing she does best- wielding a sword to survive. Mizu knows how to fight, that is her agency, not a definitive of her gender. To fight and evolve is human, not select for a particular gender. Akemi also knows how to fight. She's trained in koto playing, singing, dancing, literature, poetry and the sutras. Her modus operandi is to weaken a man through his own hubris of thinking that she presents no threat. Which, as a personal opinion, I find a requires a tad more skill than cutting through flesh and bone. With Mizu, men brace for a fight, with Akemi, they don't even realise there was one in the first place. I posit that fighting is seen as more glorious than manipulation because it's a traditionally masculine way of dealing with things. Meanwhile, artful manipulation if rife with character bashing because femininity, according to some, should not not exist to take advantage only be taken advantage of, which again. Trash take. Needless to say, both Mizu and Akemi easily outclass the men who stand in their way.

Finit

#blue eye samurai analysis #mizu #akemi #netflix blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #akemi blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai mizu #bes akemi #netflix bes #bes mizu #bes #bes netflix #blue eye samurai netflix #akemi ito

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doll-princesse · 1 year ago

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Zoe got her braided pigtails re-done into twintails. She feels refreshed and enjoyed the spa day.

She’s very happy, hanging out together with curlfriends, Gaïana and Marivel (officially Marisol) on my desk :)

#healthy roots dolls #healthy roots zoe #healthy roots gaiana #healthy roots marisol #zoe #gaïana #marisol #my dolls

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desertdollranch · 2 years ago

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Zoe has been volunteering at Canyon Creek Guest Ranch in exchange for riding lessons. The horses love and trust her. She’s so gentle and playful with them. Today she took a leisurely ride in the hills with Horsefina.

She’s also appearing on my blog to show you how gorgeous her curls look today! Zoe is a Healthy Roots doll, made specifically to teach Black children how to care for and have fun with their hair. I love being able to give her all sorts of twists, braids, buns, puffs, and pigtails, but these tight and defined curls are such an iconic look on her.

#zoe #healthy roots dolls

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nickssidewitch · 5 months ago

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🌬️*~Meet The Sturniolo Triplets’s Spirit Guides~*✨

Here is the long-awaited post where I introduce the fandom to the spirit guides of the triplets!! These guides protect them in their individual paths, sometimes intervening as a collective. I will not be sharing some of them because some are personal family members of this lifetime that have passed on, and some just don’t want to or like to be known! It’s per their requests! But, they’re not any less significant in their triplet’s life paths!

🪁 Nick’s Spirit Guides:

The Tall Androgynous Figure: If you’ve seen the movie Soul, this spirit kinda remind me of the first Jerry. They’re the leader of the group, and surprisingly either soft-spoken or just does not speak all of the time. They communicate to me the most using gestures. They act as a humbling tool for Nick, and allow him to stay grounded. There are some things they like to keep censored from the physical world about Nick, so they’re there to help keep Nick’s secrets safe and secure. They usually give me the big 🤫 whenever I channel sometimes 😭🤍 which is fair!

The Little Girl: Oh my gosh, you guys don’t understand how absolutely adorable this one is! Ugh, she’s just a doll! She’s so shy, but whenever she does speak, it’s something so emotionally profound. She communicates to me by tugging on my shirt (not my actual shirt, it’s a mental one 😭) for my attention, or she’ll draw something for someone if she likes them! She is there to help Nick heal his inner child because he still needs that reminder time and time again. He’s been through some shit, not necessarily in the physical world, but more-so mentally and spiritually, and the little girl is there to remind him to go through a safe and healthy healing process.

The Short and Loud One: He is so loud and forthright with his opinions (which is where I can see Nick gets that from 😭). He’s not a leader at all, but the way this one can SCREAM, you would think he is one. He’s kind of like Anger from Inside Out, or Terry from the Pixar movie Soul. He helps Nick to stay opinionated and open about his thoughts because I feel like Nick was scared to be open as a child. He came around Nick’s younger years to give him that strength to be loud and forthright.

The Literal Legend (reference to an Ayesha Erotica song; she’s the one who wanted me to call her that 😭🤍): She is exactly what she says she is. She always has a lipgloss or lipstick in her hand and gorgeous lips, and walks around like the world is hers (and Nick’s). She gives Nick his confidence and unapologetic bad bitch energy! She’s the one who sits down with him to watch Rupaul’s Drag Race when he has no one else to watch it with, just do he doesn’t feel alone and so he can feel the same energy those queens give 😭😭🤍

🐬 Matt’s Spirit Guides:

The Old British Man: I would say he’s one of the leaders in his group of spirit guides. He’s snarky, blunt, and can be a bit mean, but he means well in Matt’s case. He knows what Matt wants and how Matt can get there. But, sometimes he doesn’t intervene because he wants Matt to make mistakes in order to grow. He’s more of a disciplinarian type of man, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love Matt. No, this man adores Matthew, and will do anything in his power to ensure that Matt takes the proper steps to enlightenment and evolution.

The Warm, Humble Lady: She’s such a kind, warm, and beautiful lady. I see her with long blonde hair and arms always extended for a hug. 🫂 I see her adorned with beautiful flowers and there are some dogs and cats surrounding her space. She gives me woodland fairy vibes! 🧚🏾‍♀️ She has some ability to humble Matt and remind him of his roots. She acts as sort of a personification of nostalgia and everything about home. He’s probably seen her in his dreams and visions, but doesn’t really remember her. She’s telling me that’s intentional 😭🤍

The Military Man: He comes and goes, but he might be a relative of his from a long time ago or from a past life. He loves Matt’s energy and has stuck by his side since he was around 8 or 10. He’s Matt’s protector in a way, and he’s able to bring Matt a sort of strength that he might need to get through certain situations. I feel like around those ages I mentioned, that’s when Matt needed strength because he was experiencing something terrible, and that’s when Mr. Military Man stepped in. He’s not authoritarian at all like the Old British Man; he’s actually quite chill and always has a smile on his face unless he’s concerned about Matt’s wellbeing. (The Military Man is so handsome with a great smile btw— oop I didn’t say that 🧍🏾‍♀️)

The Older Grandmother: She is a grandmother maternal figure for him who is also a sense of nostalgia and peace for him. She makes him feel warm and comfortable, like a warm quilted blanket by a fireplace. She just exudes grandmother energy, and I have a feeling she knew him in a past life as well.

🐯 Chris’s Spirit Guides:

The Runaway Slave: This spirit guide was very surprising to me because I’ve never channeled a white man to have a spiritual guide that’s black or was black in a past life? But that’s what she is, and her story is quite a sad yet beautiful one. She was a house slave that ran away from her plantation successfully and lived up until the Jim Crow era and then died when she was caught in one of the Northern U.S. states. She reminds Chris of strength and resilience. She is a figure of responsibility and respect, and Chris needs that a lot of the time to stay humble.

The Circus Entertainer: This spirit guide was either an acrobat or weightlifter back when circuses were all the rage! He makes Chris as happy-go-lucky as he is 😭 He never fails to give Chris a reason to laugh or smile. I think this entertainer has been through a lot and knows what it’s like to be overworked and not be able to smile. That’s why he’s there to help Chris get a break and have a laugh every once in a while. That’s why Chris sometimes laughs or smiles very randomly 😭🤍

The Tallyman Accountant: He’s a doozy 😭 He does not speak at all. He just takes notes of everything and tallies everything that happens. He helps Chris remember things because he knows Chris’s forgetful self needs that sometimes. That’s all I can say about him!

The Bubblegum Girl: She is fierce, bold, and vivacious! Her hair is in pigtails and she loves vibrant colors like electric blues or bubblegum pinks! She seems like such a skater-girl rebellious-type. She’s short and spontaneous and loves to have fun and cause havoc. Maybe that’s where Chris gets it from 😭😭🤍. She’s there to allow him to have fun, and is also sometimes his wingwoman when it comes to his social life. I love her energy so much 😭🩷.

They have other guides as well, but those are the major ones I can channel at the moment!! 🥰🤍🤍✨

You guys can say hi to them if you want! They would love that!! 🥰🤗

#nickssidewitch #nickssidewitch asks #nickssidewitch spirit guides 🌬️#sturniolo triplets #nickssidewitch tarot #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

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boopshoops · 1 month ago

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The Dolls of the Great Pine Tree

"Once upon a time, there was a great pine tree in the depths of a far off island near the Land of Dawning.

Embedded deep in its roots were magic stones, causing the tree to grow and grow and grow far taller than any of the surrounding forest.

Visitors would often come to the pine tree in order to train their magical abilities: from far and wide. From beast men, to merfolk, to humans and fae. It was even rumored to have healing capabilities.

Even the dead visited the great tree.

One day, two ghosts visited the great tree. Imbued with magical energy just as all the visitors before them, they had never felt more alive. Filled with nostalgia, they were reminded of their years among the living.

When they had first met, fallen in love, met friends, found new sights to see, new experiences to be had. They cherished those moments deep in their hearts.

Now, being among the dead, they wondered, "Would other ghosts, born of the spectral realm without ever having interacted with the living world, truly ever understand such a wonderful feeling?"

For you see, the couple were expecting a child. Quite the miracle, no?

The two were suddenly filled with dread and guilt, feeling as though they were robbing their child of life. They gazed back up at the ginormous tree, imbued with a healthy, ethereal glow. Bathed in beautiful colors. The spectral realm was quite the opposite, devoid of such beauty, or at least the couple thought so.

One of the ghosts asked aloud, "Do you believe it would be possible to give our child something close to the gift of life? I could only wish for it to be so."

...And something stirred, deep beneath the earth, reverberating through the roots of the tree.

A mysterious visitor answered aloud, "Why, haven't you heard? Us ghosts, through the power of the stones, can possess parts of this great wood. We can feel, see, smell, and hear all the wonders of the living realm, why, I'm sure if someone were to somehow gather it's wood, you would have all the power needed to give your child exactly that."

The couple was startled, exchanging glances. Gather its wood? Many have tried, and all have failed! However, they knew the suspicious stranger's words to be true. It was the main reason they had visited the forest, after all. The only struggle was that it was hard to move freely in the entanglement of branches.

As if reading their very minds, the unfamiliar phantom spoke again, "Why, I'm sure it is possible. Over years and years, the branches have shifted. It is difficult to move, but not impossible. Why, I'd even be inclined to help you as long as I could have some of the wood as well."

The couple politely declined.

But the idea stuck in their minds for years to come, even after they had had their child.

But during those years they curiously returned, bringing family and friends alike. Oddly enough, the stranger was there every time, providing assistance, for they gradually and slowly split and took parts of the wood.

The father, a carpenter, found that possessing the wood after refining and shaping it was still possible.

The mother, a maker of trinkets and figurines, found that the wood would take shape to whatever outer shell it was put inside.

With these discoveries, their desire for life was too strong to be put aside. Yet the tree began to warp, twist, and bend unnaturally.

"Don't worry!" The now familiar, suspicious friend began, "I live in these woods and visit the tree every day. Its magic is as strong as the day I first laid eyes on it."

The individual, who had since provided them and their family a lot of aid, was difficult to distrust. After all, they had given them so much. Every time they came, they gave them wood. Every time they came, they offered words of wisdom that always proved true.

However, twigs and branches began to fall to the earth, snatched up by whoever was lucky enough to get to it first. It was discolored and stiff, nearly hard as stone. But alas, they'd come so far now. Surely, with some extra wood working, everything would be fine.

Finally, after six long years. The mother had constructed many beautiful dolls, in which much of the healthy, refined wood fit perfectly.

The father had carved and carved away, ensuring that each joint bent perfectly and smoothly, and that everything was comfortable.

The child simply watched during these many years, awaiting promises of things they could only ever dream of.

When their job was nearly complete, the mysterious friend arrived, speaking up to ask for a puppet of their own.

"You see," They began, "I did not live a long life. I was struck down early. I know it is a lot to ask for, but I would be eternally grateful. Likewise, I would gladly accompany your daughter, teaching her the ways of the living."

The couple was unsure. Their daughter had all their support and love, yet they did not have enough wood to provide for the both of them. They could not teach her everything she needed to know. After all, it was practically unheard of: two ghosts raising a human child.

With the agreement to allow the healthier wood to go to their child and to remain in close contact with her, they crafted another body for their mysterious friend.

When all was well and done, there was only one thing left to do.

"Consider it a blessing," said their friend, "After all, humans can't leave their bodies whenever they please." The couple hesitantly agreed, only ever wanting to give their child the most human experience they could. Now, once a ghost possessed the wooden frame, they could not leave until the spell was broken.

The day arrived soon after. The day the two would possess their new bodies. Crafted only out of love and care: two puppet-like dolls.

However, the couple were not aware at the time that the wooden frames had been swapped: giving their daughter the one that appeared to be on the verge of rot.

When the possession commenced at the base of the tree, their "friend" immediately sprung up, good as new. They leapt and ran and danced about, bathing in the sensations of the living world made new.

Yet, the child's body did not move.

"Do not worry, I'm sure she will adjust soon!" The friend replied.

But days and days passed, without her even blinking an eye.

The couple and their family visited every day, with their "friend" arriving less and less. More and more of the tree began to wither and fall, until there was barely even a tree left at all.

A week went by. A month, a year.

And the ghost's body didn't move an inch, with her spirit stuck inside.

The family went into a period of grieving, thinking to themselves how selfish and foolish they were. How were they supposed to know that a being which was already dead could experience something so close to death?

A small part of them held hope, however, as the years flew by, and the puppet sat sleeping soundly and what was now only a stump.

Grief came and went, a grave was carefully crafted with love. Flowers were offered by the entirety of the family, each as a symbol of an apology.

As years and years passed, the visits became less frequent. Even the tree was eventually forgotten.

Oh, hundreds of years the family visited her for. What started as visiting every day became every month, every year.

Alas, my dear child. Please know that we have not forgotten you. We never will. We are so truly, deeply, sorry.

Sincerely,

Giorno Pinacirco and Viola Cira.

In loving memory of Isola Pinacirco-Cira. 1883-1889"

Marble eyes scanned over the words written in the journal laid at the grave where she awoke.

She could not remember her youth, but alas,

The girl awoke alone, knowing she was loved.

----

MWAHAHAHA SHE'S HEREEEE SHE'S COMING SOON!!! I'll be posting her ref and official introduction when the Playful Land event begins in EN!! Stay tuned!!! reblogs would be appreciated given ihaventwritteninahotsecondugfdbsiguf

Tag list!

@skriblee-ksk @lowcallyfruity @kitwasnothere @cecilebutcher @justm3di0cr3

@scint1llat3 @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @techno-danger @the-trinket-witch

@qsoap @beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto

@sillyslipperybananapeel @tixdixl @twstinginthewind

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