#its not just the one i just saw like it’s the general attitude in there

[3liza]

the twisted metal show is just getting progressively goofier and funnier and I can't emphasize enough how refreshing that is, even though it's missing a lot of the same stuff I was complaining about missing with fallout. a good attitude can excuse a litany of sins tbh!!! it's correctly on tone with the source material (which is dumb as hell) and not stuck up its own ass and not trying to adopt any more elevated message than "Orange County is full of psychopaths" which is something we can all get behind tbh

they are clearly aiming for a thunderdome or escape from LA tone and getting, generously, almost as close as they can without thunderdome production budget. once again the wardrobe is really lacking, which always bugs me when wardrobe is so easy to do on no budget if you just hire the right creatives. i don't want to watch serious or irony poisoned post apocalyptic shit anymore, I'm fed up. whanging that horseshoe as close as you can get to "mad max" and falling short is preferable to whatever smug tech conference bullshit was going on in fallout.

I'm not saying it's good but it is fun. I'm especially enjoying how the stupid action movie dialog is getting progressively more self aware, but not in an annoyingly ironic way. they are getting comfortable with letting their writers and actors softshoe a little bit and we're starting to get Simpsons-style crowd bits like the protagonists encountering some poor bastard strung up by one of the wasteland gangs and remarking that "maybe he deserved it" and the extra groans and raspily retorts "I didn't!", which got a genuine laugh out of me because they didn't linger on it and let it get stale.

i wish they had pushed this a lot father in terms of making it more late 90s grimdark gargoyle shit like the games, but that stuff is expensive and I think they spent all their money on actual vehicles (which I respect) and didn't have a lot left over for costumes and set dressing

what's most surprising about this entire production is how laser targeted it is at people born between 1980 and 1988, which cannot be a significant television viewership in the larger picture. there is almost zero effort to make this relatable to anyone outside 40 year old Oregon Trail millennials. the soundtrack is so fucking funny

special mention to casting a bunch of actual 40 year old women and letting them look haggard and dirty and wrinkled for once

really Sweet Tooth is the biggest disappointment. i understand he's the franchise figurehead but they fumbled it imo. i don't think will arnett is the right casting. idk if sweet tooth should even talk or be human tbh, I kind of always saw him more as a sort of ogre or avatar than just a normal human psycho killer, and having him onscreen so much from the beginning was probably network mandated but really spoiled the biggest narrative tension for franchise fans they could have saved up to cash in on a good reveal later. oh well. alternately I think leaning into it being JUST will arnett in a clown mask would have been funnier than trying to split the difference with dubbing arnett over a more physically powerful Joe Samoa playing the body

[mcybree]

Want to share or?

people keep getting mad about the existence of toxic fh in a way that’s been making me increasingly angry for the past month or so. I never actually like, Post About It here because I’m not a discourse girlie and I understand why they feel that way but it’s gotten to a point where it’s just. not it. it’s not it.

[bookdragonideas]

Here's the thing. I'm a girl, and as a girl, I really like it when girls are portrayed in fiction. Especially fantasy.

But so much fiction/fantasy mixes up 'girls' with 'unstoppable forces of female badass' and there's not necessarily anything wrong with having a character who is an 'unstoppable forces of female badass'. But it gets old real quick. And it is not the same as portraying normal girls, or having good female characters.

And that's one of the many reasons I love Avatar the Last Airbender.

Because all the girl characters have flaws and weaknesses and sometimes act like idiots or jerks. They get emotional and make mistakes. They lose fights or arguments or are just wrong sometimes. Some of them are amazing warriors, and some aren't. Some are powerful or special and some are normal, with nothing special about them.

And I Love that.

I was around the same age as Katara when I first watched Atla. And I instantly connected with her as a character. I loved her optimistic attitude and her fighting spirit. And I could relate with her anger, and with her maternal instinct. I admired her fighting skills of course, but I loved how the show portrayed her compassion and kindness, the way she could both beat up a bunch of bullies AND enjoy a relaxing day at the spa. She was a baddass warrior that should never be crossed. But she was also a normal teenage girl who had a lot of the same internal struggles and problems that I did.

(I never connected to Toph on the same level, but I did relate to her on a few things. She's an adorable trash gremlin who would commit any crime for fun and I love that. But she struggles with being both independent and letting people help her, and I still struggle with that sometimes. I've learned that sometimes, you can help others by letting them help you.)

Yue is, in my opinion, a perfect example of a type of hero that seems to be disappearing. She is not a warrior. She is not a fighter. She's not even a bender.

Yue is a perfect princess, a perfect daughter. She is extremely feminine in a rather older sense.

And she was the only one who could save the world. She gave up everything for her people. She saved everything, everyone, the entire world. Without ever becoming a fighter.

Yue is a perfect example of a girl who was never more than a girl, and how that's okay. Not every girl has to be rough and tumble and fight for her rights in order to change everything. Sometimes it's okay to just be a quiet obedient girly girl. Sometimes that's all it takes to be a hero.

And I love that. Yue is strong in her own way. She is unique and interesting. She appears in only a few episodes and yet manages to be one of my favorite characters.

Song is another great example of this. Song is a healer in a small town. We don't see much of her but we see her compassion and empathy. She is gentle and generous. A healer not a fighter.

She watches Zuko steal her ostrich horse and does nothing.

Is that because she's kind and generous and knows he needs it more? Or is it because she's a healer girl who knows she can't actually stop those two from taking the horse? Maybe neither, maybe both. I have always thought that the scene where Zuko steals the horse and only the audience knows she saw it is one of the most thought-provoking in the series.

Suki is a badass warrior woman who is an awesome fighter and good leader. She is one of the best non bender fighter we see in the entire show. She was one of the smartest, most efficient, and powerful characters we ever saw.

She kissed a boy she had just met because she thought he was cute.

Now don't get me wrong I love SokkaxSuki. Its one of the best couples in the show.

But Suki totally did the old 'love at first sight' thing. And that is awesome. Because when she kisses him she delivers one of the best lines, not only from her, but, I think, in the entire show.

"I AM a warrior, but I'm a girl too."

Being a warrior doesn't mean that she isn't also a teenage girl. She might be a fighter, but she still gets crushes and likes to flirt with cute boys. And hey, she picked a good one. Not every boy is going to come break you out of prison.

Anyways, let's have more realistic girls in fiction. And please enjoy the next 24 hours.

[namism]

Request: Heyyy!

I saw that you were requesting some fics, I was wondering if you could do a Trafalagr Law fic where Y/n or You has a flavored lipgloss gloss (any flavor), you could take it any direction you want!

Thank you and have a nice holiday!! ❤️

citrus | trafalgar law

➳ categories: canonverse, gender neutral reader, established relationship

➳ warnings: slight nsfw (detailed kissing)

➳ word count: 1.1k

➳ summary: Law isn't a fan of your flavored lipsticks and glosses when he tastes the flavor of Japanese plums, but you think you just found an alternative.

➳ notes: thanks for the request! ❤️ law canonically doesn't like umeboshi (pickled japanese plums), but for the sake of the fic, i made him a fruit hater ☠️ happy holidays, everyone!

➳ cross-posted on ao3

Before you began dating Law, you didn't expect him to be the many things that he currently is to you. To start, Law presents himself differently in front of many people that his attitude in dealings pretty much boils down to who he's talking to. As once a stranger to his crew, you saw a side of Law that was meant for business, a side of him so serious and monotonous that over time, became bothersome to deal with.

Yet you persisted through his seemingly dull personality until one piece fit into the other and you decided to date.

A relationship so sweet yet so unexpected, you learned many things about Law that he never would have thought of telling you, things about him that he always kept secret, locked inside his heart or his thoughts. Things that he could only say to his closest friends, others only for the ears of his lover.

That is to say, before you began dating Law, you didn't expect him to be a kisser.

He kisses you all the time, but the depth and length of his kisses vary. On some days, he would peck your lips. On others, he would peck your cheek. On most days, he would take his time kissing your lips. He can't help it—he scored a goal by dating you, and it gives him the peace of mind that he's the only one who can kiss you the way he does.

As much as he loves kissing you, however, there is one thing that deters him from doing so on rare occasions.

Your lipgloss.

He can explain—he generally has no problem with you and your cosmetics, secretly even liking it when you kiss him on the cheek and your lipstick leaves a faint mark on his tan skin, but he does have a problem when he kisses your glossed lips and tastes the faint flavor of fruit, some of them which he likes, some not so much. You love wearing different pigments on your lips, different products and brands that make your face look much more colorful, more full, so you often rotate among your collection of lipsticks and glosses, each one surprising your boyfriend whenever you greet him with a sweet and colorful kiss.

Law loves that you feel beautiful in your own skin to wear all of the makeup that you do, but he has a great distaste for some of your lip products. The flavored ones, to be exact. He's not a big fan of fruit (ironic, he knows, since he's literally a doctor), so he freezes up whenever he kisses you and tastes the flavor on your lips. You always make sure to tease him whenever he does so, calling him a big baby for not liking the taste.

"Oh? What's with the long face?" You once picked on your boyfriend as his lips flattened into a tight line after a short kiss. Law usually smiled afterward.

"You taste like plum," he said. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"Sad about it, are we? You hate my lipgloss?"

"It reminds me of that pickled snack Bepo eats." He shrugged, a chill running down his spine upon remembering the taste of Bepo's strange snack. Umeboshi, Bepo called it. Law could never get past its sour and salty flavor.

From that day onward, you would dodge Law's kisses whenever you happen to be wearing the ume-flavored gloss on your lips, often choosing to send a flying kiss toward his way as an alternative. When you visit Sabaody Archipelago, however, an idea comes to mind.

With the Polar Tang docked somewhere in the outer groves, you bid them goodbye as you make your way to Grove 30 for the island's shopping mall, where you stumble upon a vast selection of cosmetics. Eyes shining brightly, you indulge yourself in retail therapy as you blow your money out on the finest products you could find. When you walk past a stall vending a particular item, you halt in your tracks and come running back.

A lady sits behind the stand, her features telling of her youthful age. She smiles as you point at the array of lipgloss on the table, and urges you to swatch them out on your hand.

"That one's flavored," she says matter-of-factly as you hold a yellow tube in one hand. You read the printed label. Lemon.

"Do you have anything else?" you ask.

"I've got a lot to show you!"

As the lady disappears under the stand to rack for the new line of glosses, a smirk forms on your lips, the pit of your stomach turning in excitement.

When you come back to the Polar Tang, your excitement is apparent to your crewmates who wonder where you've been. You provide them with a giggle in response before you skip happily to your Captain's quarters.

You knock on the door. Law grants you entry a few seconds later.

"Miss me?" you tease him as he steps aside to let you in. You drop your bags to the ground, while he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Where have you been?" he asks.

"Just went shopping, like I told you."

He shrugs. He doesn't think much of it, assuming that you just had a few hours of fun to yourself before you set sail again. His hands drop to the side when you approach him for a kiss, your hands gliding across his chest before encircling his neck.

Before you can kiss him, however, he stops you abruptly.

"I smell something," he notes. He sniffs the air and looks at you questioningly. "It smells good."

You bite down on your lip discreetly to keep yourself from laughing. "How does it smell?"

"Like citrus," he answers. "Is that... you?"

Standing on your tippy toes, you move your face closer to his.

"Find out for yourself."

Law leans into you when you successfully catch his lips, his eyebrows jumping upon tasting yours. He notes the citrus flavor that he detected just a few seconds ago and almost scoffs at your little ruse. Expecting him to pull away, you sigh in relief when he leans further down to deepen the kiss, his hands coming to rest on the small of your back.

Law tugs on your upper lip slowly, eliciting a moan from the back of your throat. He swipes his tongue on your lower lip to taste the flavor of lemon, and repeats it so often until you're losing your breath.

Pushing away, you gasp for air.

"So? Do you hate it?" you ask breathlessly.

"No, I'm into it," he mumbles, pulling you in closer. "Another one, please."

The pit of your stomach stirs in need as he holds you intimately close. You peck his lips and pull him to the other side of his quarters, laughing to yourself at the turn of events.

You guess you just found your default lip combo. Law liked it more than expected, after all.

[pedrospatch]

fall into temptation | one

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

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

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

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

word count: 8.4k

Jackson, Wyoming

Fall 2024

Joel had seen him around the community before. 

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

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

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

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

Joseph? Was that it? 

He couldn’t be certain.

Not that Joel really even cared to know his name. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snorted sharply through his nose. “Hope?”

“Yes, hope,” she snapped at him. 

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that?”

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

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

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

Shit. 

He’d been caught gawking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel tossed him a skeptical look across the table.

“She really as innocent as she seems?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And the old man doesn’t know?”

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

He smirked. “Which part?”

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s she been holdin’ up?”

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

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

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

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

You were leaving. Alone. 

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

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

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

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

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

Kent was going after you. 

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

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

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

You were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Kent. 

That couldn’t fucking be good. 

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

That’s when he heard it. 

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

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

Red.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stared at him with wide and fearful eyes.

A single tear slipped down the side of your face.

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

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

But he’d heard it loud and clear. 

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded. “Un—Understood.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel felt a strange warmth radiate in his chest. 

Fucking hell, Tommy had been right about you. 

You really were too good.

“Darlin’ I already told you m’fine—”

“Please?”

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

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

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

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

“That really ain’t necessary.”

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

There it was again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You disappeared down a short, dimly lit corridor.

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

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

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

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

He averted his eyes, turning away from it. 

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

A fucking slab of carved wood. 

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

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

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

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

“No offense taken, Joel.”

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

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

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

Smiling politely, you told him your name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your answer took him by complete surprise.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel—”

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

Your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words. 

You had never thought about it like that before.

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

He was right, after all. 

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

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

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

“What is it?” 

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

Oh. That’s what he meant.

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

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

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

“The wrong path?”

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

“By controllin’ you.” 

It had been a statement, not a question. 

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

There was another short bout of silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’right.”

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Want, sure. 

He had wanted Tess. He had wanted Esther. 

But Joel didn’t just want you. 

He fucking needed you. 

And he didn’t know why.

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

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

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

You breathed out a shaky, “I’m sure.”

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

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

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

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

“I—I want you to kiss me.” 

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

You heard him chuckle softly. 

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

“Please.”

“S’much better.”

Your heart pounded with anticipation.

It was almost too much for you to handle. 

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

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

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

What the fuck had he been thinking? 

And what about you? 

Where the fuck had your common sense gone?

Probably ran off together with Joel’s.

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

You were having none of it. 

None. 

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

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

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

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

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

Desperate, you uttered one final, “Please.”

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

He couldn’t. Simple as that. 

“You sure ‘bout this?”

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

“C’mere then, darlin’ girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You, Joel. I need you.”

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

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

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

“Darlin’ are you—?”

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

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

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

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

“Then what’s the matter?”

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

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

“You’re a what?”

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

“Turn around, sweet girl.” 

Joel’s command was firm but still gentle. 

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

“Look at me.”

You tried, but couldn’t. 

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

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

Close, but somehow not close enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, what?”

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

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

You nearly moaned around his finger. “Yes.”

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

“Yes, please.”

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

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

He almost laughed at your expression. 

“C’mon, don’t give me that face.”

“But Joel—”

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

Your answer came without an ounce of hesitation.

“Of course,” you breathed.

You would wait an eternity for Joel Miller.

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: Your Fall Awakening

✧ "I loved watching the base of those thunderstorms, the billowing tops of the cumulonimbus, the lightning that effortlessly lit up the lake and the sky. It was gorgeous, so energetic. I was in love." - Ginger Zee

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you. Also, the tense changes from past to present to future, I hope this doesn't make the reading difficult.

Also! Thank you so much to everyone who put in a paid reading request, when my life stabilizes, those will be on the top of my priority list. <3

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

Pile One (King of Cups, 5oC, The Sun, The Knight of Cups)

This energy feels sudden but fated. This year’s eclipse season has been insane and you were always destined to reach a cosmic juncture of complete renewal around this time. The scales are tipping in your favor and this is your season to receive. 

This is my emotionally attuned pile. You were a sensitive child—a walking bundle of warmth and acceptance—until people took advantage of your gentle soul. You could have been the typical sunshine kid always giggling, easily making connections, and being a bright energy people were easily attracted to. Whether or not you were aware of it, people saw your capacity for love and happiness as intimidating and “fake”. Their reality did not shine as bright as yours so they could not fathom your authentic happiness.

That doesn’t mean people did not try to take advantage of your gentleness. Society associates friendliness/happiness as weakness and sees you as an easy target to get over on. Being trusting isn’t naivety, it isn’t your fault that you extended your time and resources to greedy people, it is their loss that they ruined a genuine connection because they were too far gone in their own misery to recognize a helping hand out of the shadows. 

This is a general reading so the details of what happened vary greatly, for most of you, there was a series of traumatic events involving your interpersonal relationships that scarred your heart. I visually see a wilting flower or a chest caving in on itself. 

Betrayal, cheating, abuse, years and years of lying, bullying, isolation, being ignored, and just overall feeling less important than the other people in your life.

But we don’t need to get into the nitty gritty of that bullshit. That chapter is closed, burned, and a renewed phoenix is rising from its ashes. 

To any other person, these events would have turned them rotten and nasty, but you never passed this hurt onto others, you just held onto it and kept holding on until it slowly drained and left all the cavities in your body empty and numb. You’re used to depletion, giving and giving, but being left in the dust after everyone else gets their fill and moves on.

Listen to me, you are stepping into your rainfall- the world revolves around you- era. You’re being rewarded for your resilience and “the cycle ends with me” attitude. A hurt person hurt you and you turned that into further reason why you would never be so cruel to another soul.

You got the sun, the best fucking card in the deck, right in the middle of your spread. With the lies you’ve been fed over the years, at some point on your journey, you got lost in the illusions of lack and fear. Fear that you weren’t enough and less than the magnificent being you truly are.

But this juncture is like a lightning strike of clarity to your consciousness, you are realizing that this journey is just that… a journey. A life lesson circling you back to your power so you can acknowledge just how fucking desirable your heart actually is.

People tried to rob you of your happiness because they wanted it. People tried to squash your kindness because they wanted it. People abused your time and energy because they yearned for it but could never have it. Think about it, if you had nothing of value, they wouldn’t have plotted on the resources you offered. 

We’ve all heard the saying, “You don’t know how good you have something until you lose it.” Life put you on this course of being on top, hitting rock bottom (deep depression), and then climbing up again so you can cultivate the strength to have a sensitive soul and defend it against all the greedy hands who want a piece. 

This journey taught you discernment, who to trust and who not to trust. It taught you how to pick yourself up and dust off. You learned to be stingy with your time and treat yourself as high value. Most importantly, you experienced your first full cycle of rebirth, where you learn that even your lowest of lows are temporary and it is universal law that all things eventually come to an end to be reborn bigger and better. 

True strength is seeing the world’s ugliness and not letting it taint you. You’ve been the victim of cruel actions and you wouldn’t dare enforce those on anyone else. The universe honors people like you. You were always meant to experience this upcoming win fall.

If you’re reading this, you’re already beginning to feel it. Shifts like this happen internally before manifesting externally. You step outside and the world looks more… romantic.

You can feel it in your bones that you are about to receive your fairytale life. The moon is smiling back at you and the stars are spelling out your name.

Embrace this Knight of cups energy and follow the whims of your heart, they’re leading you to your new timeline. Fall in love with yourself and acknowledge the battle you not only survived but won. 

P.S. Little you is so motherfucking proud of who you are and what you stand for. They knew you would make it back to them. It pained them to see you lost in other people’s lies but they never doubted your capability to see love in life again. Your kid self lived and breathed this joy and they knew nobody could truly take it from them. They are happy to see you realize it too.  

"Sometimes, the strongest roots grow in the softest soil."

Pile Two (King of Swords rev., King of Pentacles, 10oW, Queen of Wands rev.)

YOU ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH! There is no fucking reason to fixate on changing yourself when you are already perfect as is, sugar plum!

You carried your family’s burdens up a verrry long mountain. You were trekking through life with a generational weight strapped on your back. Your greatest devil was expectations. 

You were told who you should be, what you should do, how you should act, what you should believe in. 

There weren’t many loving voices in your home, your efforts were met with harsh critiques and a heavier load on your plate. This is the classic case of being pushed beyond limits no child should have to reach. In your upbringing, it was perfection or nothing. Not only did you have to excel academically, you had to be attractive and have a thriving social life, do extracurriculars, and anything else that exemplified you as a model child and citizen. 

And even then, when you did all those things, you didn’t get the proper acknowledgment or congratulations you deserved. Lots of you just got higher expectations set after you proved you could reach an already unrealistic standard. God forbid you didn’t reach those standards, some of you got shunned or abused. 

Sometimes you felt more like a project your people flaunted rather than someone they authentically loved and cared for.

This fucked with your young psyche. I mean… what's the point!? You jump through all these hoops to barely get a pat on the back? Yeah, you seemed perfect on the outside but internally, you were teeming with self-hate and the contempt of not being enough for anyone. 

I am getting frustrated just channeling this message, damn you deserved so much more! 

(Do you get migraines or tension headaches?)

This is my pile of people who did not get the privilege of choosing their own career path. Your guardians told you to study to become a doctor, engineer, scientist, artist, or whatever the hell they wanted to flaunt as an extension of themselves. 

But get this, your people didn’t do that shit either! They push so hard for you to be someone they’re not because they’re projecting their (fear of) failure onto you. 

For some (those who were not ignored or abused), it wasn’t malicious. They pushed you to be great because they wanted the best for you, but the way they handled it was fucked up.

There was a lot of fear about falling short of expectations and disappointing the people around you. Creating this mindset that you had to perform for affection and needed to prove that you were of value to people in order to be loved.

Some of you heavily rebelled against this authoritarian force in your life. Explicitly, through using sex to satiate your desire to feel loved. Like with your family, you viewed love as transactional and went into “relationships” with people who disguised their lust for you as love but only truly wanted to exploit your vulnerable state.

I am sorry you did not deserve that, you are better with those energies out of your life. 

BAAABBBYYYY, this season is rinsing out all that gunk between your ears and pushing the weight off your back. Can you feel your spine unfurl?

This season you’re letting all the bullshit go. You’re garnering strength the rest of society only talks about. You’re looking at yourself in the mirror and saying that nobody’s expectations are worth living a life you don’t want to live. Those people were empowered by you not recognizing your own capability, they were the only measurement of how worthy you were and the only source of the approval you craved. 

(why won't this center???^)

You’re awakening to just how much of a bad mf you truly are! You’re the king of pentacles- you’re your own empire! You’re reclaiming your power and acknowledging that with all the time and effort you put into building someone else’s dreams, you have the strength to build your own!

With every challenge thrown at you, YOU BODY THAT SHIT!

I’m getting chills, I feel like a hype man lmao. I’m your biggest fan fr. I want you on my team! You’re an irreplaceable asset that anyone would be blessed to work with. 

All the pressure you faced has forged you into a one-of-a-kind gemstone and you are shining brightly! 

This journey taught you the power of control and how to take the reigns of your own chariot. You will never allow another soul to take your will from you again. 

*Clears throat* Don’t tell anyone I said this but… expect your life to blossom in ways you can’t even begin to fathom.

Your 5th house: leisure, pleasure, romance, creativity, and your 10th house: higher self, your image, and how you carry yourself once you leave the shadows is getting a major activation.  

The dreams of your future that you wouldn’t dare whisper to the people in your life are being heard by Source and they’re being packaged (with a cute lil bow) behind the scenes, ready to be delivered at your feet. I am not kidding, your oracle cards are: 10th house, 5th house, Venus, fated meeting, and “Blessings you couldn’t even dream of are walking to your front door”.

There is a special emphasis on your creative endeavors, unleash the side of you that was shunned, and allow it to garner the love and attention that has always been meant for you! It is your time to live life the way you’ve always wanted to. 

P.S. People don’t want to hear it because getting your expectations high is a “bad” thing or whatever, but you will meet someone. It’s a fated meeting and you two are meant for each other. Royal love. You got all court cards and while I was typing, “one-of-a-kind” autocorrected to “one-of-a-king”. 

Pressure Reveals Our Brilliance

Pile Three (10oS Rev., 10oW, 8oP, Queen of Swords, Emperor)

Growing up, my mom always told me that when we feel like we’re wandering aimlessly, we’re actually slowly inching closer to where we’re meant to be.

I pass these words of wisdom on to you because you know the pain of wandering all too well. When you were younger, your energy was unadulterated and you dreamt big without any doubt creeping around your skull to sully your aspirations. You are naturally a very ambitious person with a killer drive to get shit done.

However, something shifted. I don’t think it was a specific event, it happened over time. The wrong people and painful situations slowly chipped away at your spark for life until your body lost its will and you slowly staggered to the ground with all ten swords in your back. 

There was a dense fog around who you were and what you wanted. You questioned your desires and your ability to achieve them, growing more frustrated with your own confusion. Until eventually, you stopped dreaming. Anything to curb the painful disappointment of feeling like a person coming from a broken mold. Or a human without an outline, just an indistinct blur melting into the background. 

I feel static in my bones. I see that your shadows locked you in place- paralyzed. Limited only to the realms in your head as you watch the world evolve and move on without you.

This pile struggles with the most intense anxiety. Have you seen Inside Out 2? There is a scene where the anxiety emotion goes into overdrive and can’t remove herself from the control panel and Riley has an ongoing panic attack. For a huge chunk of your life, your anxiety couldn’t release itself from the command center. Your whole life has felt like you’ve been holding your breath, waiting for the panic attack to subside. 

You’re a nervous nelly, I’m afraid. Not to be offensive, but I imagine a nervous, wet chihuahua shaking like a leaf (haha, been there).

Something about your friendships and the negative influence of others is important. The ten of swords is typically a betrayal card. These situations left you with an aching sense that you didn’t have control over the direction of your life, so you spent your days worrying about everything that has and will go wrong.

Maybe people told you that you weren’t capable? Maybe you felt like you didn't measure up to the people around you who had direction in their lives.

You have a lot of energy, pent-up energy. It is actually one of your blessings, you have an abundance of energy to achieve all that you set your mind to. But these traumatic events locked up this vitality and prevented it from being properly expressed. It didn’t go away, it got transmuted into mental energy and you “thought” yourself to death. 

It’s funny—you probably daydream about taking action and doing the everyday things that others do without a second thought. For them, it’s normal, but for you, it’s a wild dream. 

This is my late bloomer pile. The things people your age typically do, you haven’t gotten around to because you can’t seem to get your body and mind on the same accord. 

You had restless energy, your body was always on but not in motion. Think of a tightly stretched rubber band aching to be released anywhere but stuck in this moment of tension. You felt the pull, the urge to leap into action, yet something held you back—whether it was doubt, hesitation, or simply the weight of expectation. Each day was a reminder of your potential, a constant yearning to break free and finally express that energy in a meaningful way. But, the second you went in for the kill, your bones locked up and left you stagnant.

I want to cry writing this. Your wishes are so simple and you will get them tenfold, quote me. 

This season you are getting the key to freedom from your mental prison- clarity. Clarity on just how possible everything is. You are awakening to the world at your fingertips and the very road map woven into your heart.

It sounds silly, but you dream of work! You want to go out and create without paralyzing fear looming over your shoulder. This is your deepest desire because you are meant to do it. You’re the fucking emperor AND the queen of swords. Your name is meant to be plastered on a building somewhere, and no amount of fear or doubt is going to keep you from that. 

This journey taught you how to build mental fortitude and define yourself. You won’t listen to any voice that prevents you from living the life you want to live, not even your own. The next time you get stabbed in the back, you won’t even flinch and you sure as hell won’t stop your motion. 

You don’t need to think, just be. Your feet will take you to where you need to go.

(Shoutout to my Rahuvians!)

Your wildest dreams have been heard and answered, and you’re beginning to find your direction again. I know it’s hard to believe, especially after spending so much of your life in an illusionary prison—a mental construct that felt all too real. But take a deep breath and allow those bars to melt away. Remember, this chapter is just that: a chapter in your life. You are ready to turn the page and embark on a new adventure, one that could be your very first! Embrace the possibilities ahead, and tell any lingering fears to shut the fuck up and kick rocks.

This next phase in your life is anything but slow, it’s a complete 180 from what you’re used to. Get ready to be a busy bee and in high demand. Your mind and body will be sharp, focused, and honed in on your craft. You are mastering something and achieving great success. “Blessings you couldn’t even dream of are walking to your front door.”

P.S. I know that was a long, agonizing, period in your life but jump for joy now that it’s over! I promise you, it truly is!! Don’t stress about the past or worry about what you should or could have done differently. You did everything perfectly and you were always meant to be where you are right now. 

I know this might sound cliché, but the situation was out of your hands. The lesson was about learning to surrender control and trusting in the only constant in life: change. Nothing lasts forever, your pain is temporary. Trust that this experience has shaped you, and now you have the opportunity to step forward with newfound strength and resilience. Embrace the future—it’s waiting for you!

She's Using the Colors of Her Aura to Define Her Being

Pile Four (2oP, 7oW, 4oW, 90P, Clear, Third Eye Chakra, 1st House, Pluto)

Hmmm, pentacles (earth​ = stay and grow, grow, grow) and wands (fire = go, go, go)… “Should I stay or should I go?” 

Nobody wants to hear it, but you’re being pushed into hermit mode. But fear not! ☝🏾 This will be your last and most peaceful retreat. You’re caught in a battle between the urge to slow down and prioritize your wellness and the temptation to jump up and grind. Embrace this time for reflection and self-care—it’s essential for your growth. When you take the time to recharge, you’ll emerge stronger and more focused, ready to tackle whatever comes next with renewed energy. Trust that this phase is necessary for your journey.

The right answer is a blend of both. Make a steady meditation and fitness plan you can rely on where you feel productive yet kept to yourself. Your energy is sensitive at this time and people are going to try and purposely trigger you because they can sense that you’re getting ready to pop out and do your mf jig!

You are crazy intuitive and are awakening to this fact, but just like the start of any journey, you’re trying to find a balance between your intuition and judgment.

Spoiler alert, they're the same thing! 

ESPECIALLY for you. Check to see if you have Pluto, Ketu (south node), Jupiter (Sag or Pisces), Mars (Aries or Scorpio), or Moon (Cancer) in your first, fourth, seventh, or tenth house. Or literally anything in your eighth house.

You are blessed with the ability to see beyond the veil of illusion and are meant to nurture and refine this gift. Embrace it as a powerful tool for understanding yourself and the world around you. Trust your intuition and allow it to guide you through challenges, helping you uncover deeper truths. 

This season is bringing changes to your physical body and immediate environment, you feel most vulnerable to the weather changes and are probably having trouble sleeping. You are likely feeling tension between your eyebrows and are seeing images that aren't actually there. 

You’re experiencing a third eye awakening and a major karmic clearing, this is my most spiritual pile by far. If you’re not into these types of things, this isn’t your pile. Actually, this group really stands out from the others, I don’t have advice for you per se; this message is to assure you that you’re not delusional. 

I am here to tell you to trust what you’re seeing. You’re right! Whatever you think is happening… is happening. If you think great things are coming, they absolutely are. Conversely, if you feel that something shady is going on behind the scenes, then that’s exactly what’s unfolding. Trust your instincts; they’re guiding you toward the truth.

Here’s a secret about intuitive judgment: If the thoughts are causing anxiety and plaguing you with fear, they’re not true. On the other hand, if your instincts provide insight into a situation and help you feel more in control, you’re on the right track. Even if the truth is harsh or painful, knowing it empowers you to make informed decisions about your next move. 

The truth is enlightening, even if it leads to a tower moment where everything you thought you knew comes crumbling down. Lies may feel comforting at first, but they can slowly trap you, binding you to a life that isn’t truly yours. Your soul craves deep transformation and healing. It may sound cryptic, but this is your season to die and allow yourself to be reborn anew. Embrace the intensity of Scorpio season; it’s a powerful time for you to shed old skin and welcome a higher version of yourself. 

Who is this higher version? You have been cultivating them bit by bit with every trial thrown your way and it is finally time for them to rise to the surface. This version embodies your resilience, wisdom, and strength, shaped by your experiences and the lessons learned along the way. Embrace this transformation and let your true self shine. You are ready to step into your power and create the life you’ve always envisioned.

(Any Mula natives in the chat?)

I am excited for you, it’ll be tiring and unpleasant but the world waiting for you on the other side is one of bountiful harvests and celebrations! Hang in there! 

Embrace the slowness and allow yourself to relax while it's here because this next chapter is TURNT. 

P.S. You’re hot—like really, incredibly sexy. Your gaze is piercing, and people feel as though you see straight through them into depths they aren’t even aware of. You don’t have to do much to unsettle others; they’re easily triggered because they can’t hide behind the safety of their masks when they’re around you. Your authenticity and intensity shine through, making them confront their own truths. Embrace that power; it’s a gift that not everyone possesses!

She Follows the Blueprint Woven Into Her Flesh

[kimikitti]

Hi! Sorry if there’s a lore doc or something I missed but I saw your new Obi design and the overblot doodles and would love to know the lore! From my understanding, Obi can consume magic? Did he use that to tame overblots? I’m completely enamored by the idea that all these big scary monsters are just hanging out in Ramshackle. Are the house wardens comfortable visiting with them around?

Co-parenting with the manifestation of your childhood trauma is always better with a smoothie.

(LOL there is no lore doc. It's just me cryptically posting about Obi and the phantoms and then bouncing. Thank you for the wonderful opportunity for me to rant about the lore I have bouncing around my brain. Also, I probably should make a tag to make all this lore stay in one place. Rant below the cut (May contain slight spoilers))

Obi and the phantoms:

To answer your first question: Yes, Obi can consume magic. In fact, he needs to consume it to survive. When he consumes magic, they taste like words and information. If he eats a spell, Obi gains an understanding of the spell's nature and effects. Repeated consumption of the same spell can lead to greater revelations. Obi is not totally conscious of this ability, as the information he gains seems to have always existed to him.

Did he use that to tame overblots?

No, the phantoms are not really beings that can be tamed. Obi devoured them during the overblot. And wakes up with a book in his clutches. Said books are how he summons the phantoms once again.

Each phantom takes on a personality and ability separate but similar to their original creator. Some phantoms are more willing than others to be cooperative.

Obi doesn't really mind much. Unwanted creations should stick together. It's better than being alone.

Are the house wardens comfortable visiting with them around?

Some of them are, for some it takes more time to warm up to the idea of the phantoms. After all, its hard to be totally ok with a being born of their worse moments. I can run through some general attitudes.

Riddle: Absolutely terrified at first. But seems dedicated to "educating" his phantom. He comes around a lot. (The phantom loves this)

Leona: Comes by frequently but he does not seem to show a strong interest in his own phantom, brings meat. (The phantom also appears uninterested in its creator, but has been seen curling around leona while he's taking a nap)

Azul: Does not come by at all. (The phantom hates this, but understands)

Jamil: The phantom often seeks Jamil out frequently, seems to have a strong desire to bring gifts to its creator. It is unclear how Jamil feels about this. (Jamil is unsure about this, Kalim loves this)

Vil: The phantom hides from Vil. It is ashamed. (Vil dislikes this, but is trying to coax it out)

Idia: Ortho... sleeps most of the time. He wishes to be near his brother but is often not strong enough to be the dominant desire among them. Idia and Ortho visit frequently they love to play video games together. (Ortho loves this)

Malleus:

(I honestly love coming up with the phantoms and their respective lore so if you're interested to learn more please let me know! Thank you for the questions)

[kasssscali]

could we get some general jax x reader hc's? like how he acts around his crush, how he maybe goes about confessing, if at all bc i feel like he'd be the type to draw it out for a good while just to mess with the object of his affections/torment

It takes time for Jax to develop feelings for you, he really has to know someone well enough

and for the longest time he’s in denial when it comes to his feelings for you

he’ll start to get kind of grabby when he has a crush on you, he might try to make small talk by wrapping an arm around your shoulder

he is a lot taller than you, he will definitely grab your stuff and hold it above his head laughing at your pathetic attempts to get it back

it becomes kind of obvious he’s pretty drawn to you, when anyone confronts him about it, his response is always

“don’t know what your talkin’ about” or “what kind of sucker do you take me for? Romance and feelings ain’t really my thing”

it takes him forever to finally have the realization dawned on him that he actually likes you more than he thinks he does

At first he obviously saw you as someone just to mess with, and those feelings grew into a thought of Maybe they Aren’t so bad, until Why can’t I get them Out of my head?!

He’s not that experienced with that type of stuff, hell he doesn’t even go as near as to talk about whatever is bothering him

He’s mad at you that you made him feel this way, and since he doesn’t like to talk about whats bothering him he brings such a sour mood to the circus

He sulks a lo, and just giving everyone bad attitude over everything. He’s not taking this well, instead of making little snarky comments when he wants to, his usual responses are now “Yeah…”

”mhm…”

”sure Thing” followed by an eye role

it’s not exactly like Jax to just sulk around everywhere, yeah sometimes he was snarky and quick to just be a total jackass when it wasn’t necessary

but he was acting so different, now he’s just mad

Everyone in the circus has now tried to talk to him about it, the one who actually got to him was Zooble believe it or not

Zooble could instantly put two and two together and quickly found out what was bothering him

it was you

Jax was denying everything Zooble said, it got to the point Zooble actually snapped at him

He could either tell you how he was feeling, or get over you and drop the attitude

That really got to Jax, he wasn’t showing it and continued to pretend like Zooble was just making stuff up, but what Z said really got to him

Its a good thing that Zooble eventually left because it gives Jax a minute to think

he doesn’t have anyone around him to fake his feelings for, its just him

It takes FOREVER for him to confess to you, and when he does he does it so casual

After Zooble talked to him, he was quickly back to his old self

honestly no one missed that

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him sly over to you, smirk and all. “Heya! You seem to be kinda alone right now~” He laughs at you in a taunting matter “Say… how about you and me have dinner tonight, what do you say?~”

if you agree, he’ll make it seem like its no big deal when deep down it makes his heart pound

if you say no, he’ll immediately go back to sulking until Zooble has to help him out again

the choice is yours

[whatifitis]

♡ 150 reasons - LN 4 ♡

Summary: 150 reasons why lando loves you

Author's note: idk i thought it'd be nice

CW: literally just fluff

Hi baby!! :D

I saw this trend on tiktok just now and wanted to do it for you. I love you a lot and you know how hard it is for me to show it sometimes. I thought this could be a nice small way to at least show you a bit of how much I love you. My love for you knows no boundaries. <3

P.S. if there’s any misspelings dont say shit cause im dyslexic and you know that :(

Your smile

Your eyes

The way your eyes sparekl all the time

Your rosy cheeks

Your wavy hair (you hate it but u love it)

Your heart

Your brain

Your patience with evrything (including me)

Your honesty

Your inteligence

Your humor

The way you’re always there for anyone. Doesnt mater if u know them well or not

You always listen to people and help them when they need it even if your tired

You challenge me and help me become a better person

You never judge me

You make me feel safe

You believe in me, even when idont

You inspire me everyday whether it’s work related or just life in general

You’ve seen teh good and the bad in me and you still love me

You laugh at all my jokes even if they suck

You’re my best friend (🎶you can hear it in the silence🎶)

You respect my space when i need it, even if i go about it awfully (when writing ‘about it’ i accidentally wrote ‘tit’ :I)

You give the best fucking hugs 

When i get anxious, you always help me, even if it’s just when you sit with me and help me breathe 

You took the time to learn about me and my mental struggles so that you could help me better

You make life so much more better 

You remind me that i’m worth more than i think i do

You chose me

You make me blush and happy

Your music taste is amazing as well (btw i got us tickets to see Noah Kahan)

You’re like my personal google and dictionary

You get along with my family

My mum loves you (i think she loves u more than she loves me ngl)

You get along with max and you mock sometimes and it makes me laugh so much

You stay even if im mean and dont deserve it

You sacrifice a lot

You always put others before you 

You don’t mind my gaming (even when i keep you up late with my screaming)

You always listen to me talk about the things i like 

You hold my hand in public (it sounds stupid but it makes sense ok so shut it) <3

You never give up on me

You bring out the best in me

Max said he hadn’t seen me so happy until i met you

You make me feel lucky to have u

You support my career and stuff even though it gets really hard sometimes

You make the bad days better

You make everyday better as well, not just the bad ones

You never make me feel bad or ashamed about feeling certain ways

You always validate me when i need it

You never lie to me

You always tell me straight up when im the one in the wrong

The way you smell

The way you look when u see me

The way you hold me tight even if i’ve just raced singapore and am sweating out of every crevise

You stay strong for the both of us

Your attitude

Your kisses

You’re always down to play video games with me (IM SORRY FOR IT TAKES TWO I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS HARD)

The way you call me your love

You stand up for me even when im not deserving of it

Your cooking skills

The way you play with my hair

How we’re able to joke with eachother

The way you tell stories

The way you talk in general

How funny you were when telling me about work and snot shot out of my nose 

You match my freak

Your singing (even if its off key sometimes)

You never doubt me

U dont mind my clinginess (sorry about scaring u in the shower the other day as well)

You never tell me to go away

You always communicate with me

You plan things for our future

When you send me vlogs when im away (or even when im home but youre at work)

You make my heart feel full

You’re consistent with loving me. Whether you’re sad or mad or happy or anything, you still love me the same

Youre never too busy for me

The way we can just sit in silence together and do nothing but still have fun

The way you help me pack when im getting ready to travel

The way you pack my favorite snacks for me when im going away for a while

We can share victories together, big or small (lol big or small, ya know, like dicks)

You never make me feel alone

You watch stupid ass movies with me all the time

You dont get mad at me when you try to teach me to play valorant (it’s fucking hard, csgo is better anyways)

The way your face lit up and you started talking faster when you were talking to me about your favorite artist

The way you speak to me so gently when i need it

The way you make a playlist for every mood possible

The way you make a playlist for every book you read, even if the book was bad

How you insist we don’t have enough driving playlists so we always make more

The way you introduce me to new things (i still wont try fish, screw that)

Youre adventurous

You put up with my shananigens

The way you made a million stickers on whatsapp

How you always say ‘i love you’ with the ‘i’

When you tell me goodmorning and goodnight even if youre mad at me

How you help me dress better

How u kiss me in a way that screws me up forever

How you always ask me about my day

How you always put your leg on mine

How you show me how forever feels

How you put up with my stupidity (I REALLY THOUGHT THE MATTRESS WAS GONNA HELP)

You’re gonna be an amazing mum someday

How you spam me with tiktoks

Your laugh is the best sound ive ever heard

Youre beautiful inside and out

How u were able to make me laugh even after i’d poked by hand with a knife when i tried cutting an avocado

How you helped me escape the bed sheet when we discovered my new found claustrophobia

How you always rep mclaren and quadrant merch

How you always make backed goods and make them healthy sometimes so i can still eat them

How when we’re out and you can tell im anxious

And when you realize it you find small ways to ground me like holding my hands or tapping my foot with yours

You love the pictures i put in the new digital frame (you cant lie and say u dont like yassified alonso)

If im hungry in the middle of the night, you join me in snacking or ordering a whole pizza

How you know you’re lactose intolerant but still eat dairy filled foods

And how you lock me out the room when you have to deal with the aftermath of eating dairy

How you're already naming our future children

How you laugh til you cry at 3 in the morning from watching tiktoks 

And waking me up to watch them with you

How you get so excited when talking to me about the last book you read 

How you tell me about the book theories you hear and your own theories (violet’s mom was definitely venin)

How when u find me snacking in the middle of the night, you don’t question it

How we have dance parties in the living room

How you quote random things all the time, especially tiktok sounds

Your love for musicals

How you say “me and boq” every 5 mins

Your unconditional love for not just me, but everyone 

Your love knowing no boundaries

The way you didn’t get scared away when faced with so much hate and shit when we first started dating

Your strength

How you learned the “wait, they dont love you like i love you” thing in different languages

Your high streak on duolingo

Your creativity

Your piano skills

Your love for celsius (although it’s not good for you and you should probably slow down on them :( try coffee instead)

How you and my mum go shopping together all the time

How you’re invited home more than i am…

Your dedication to work

Your work ethic (it’s not the same as the reason above)

Your vast knowledge of everything in Marvel

How you interact with the fans

How you show me off in every way possibel (i might've said this already)

How you help me with quadrant shit

How you give me a room tour anytime youre somewhere new

The light you emit

The way you make everything so much brighter

How you always try to learn new things (we should try tarot reading again, that one was fun and we can scare the shit out of max with it)

The way you never let go no matter what

The way you always give back to people

The way you live everyday like it’s the last

The way you love me and hold onto me

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

white wine | f. odair

(part two of red wine)

part one

summary: another celebration in the capitol leaves you and finnick in an argument that threatens to strain your friendship.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: reader’s pov, flirting, angst, argument, struggling finnick :(

notes: i don’t know if i like this, let me know what y’all think! final part will be out in a few days.

word count: 1.6k

A Sphynx cat dressed in a white suit scurried beneath your feet, disappearing around a vine-covered pillar in the courtyard of the Presidential Palace. Fairy lights were hung on every tree, bush, and pillar, providing light in the growing darkness of the evening. Orchestral strings played in a small band off to the side, so beautiful that it sent goosebumps prickling across your entire body. People were dressed to impress, though to you, they looked more ridiculous than impressive.

The 72nd annual Hunger Games had come and gone, and a tour was held for the victor whose name you had not bothered to learn. At last, the infamous grand celebration in the Capitol had arrived.

Months had gone by since your night of red wine and white cats. Parties had not been in short supply since then, meaning your meetings with Finnick remained regular. But something was off about him. Something you couldn’t place no matter how hard you tried.

Winter snow was beginning to stick to the ground, blending with the pure white gown you were wearing, gifted by the generous president. If purity and innocence were what he was going for, he probably should’ve chosen a dress without a plunging neckline. The proof was in the pudding. Or rather, the voice of the heartthrob from District Four.

“That dress is quite distracting.”

Sauntering toward you came Finnick Odair, a playful grin plastered on his face. Just like you, his outfit only consisted of white. A billowy V-neck that dipped down to his navel, paired with white dress pants and a golden netted belt.

“Finnick.” You smiled, your dull mood lifting from his presence. “So, he got you too, huh?”

“What? You don’t think I look dashing in white?” he teased.

“I think you look dashing in anything.”

The words just slipped out, supposed to only remain a thought. Finnick was a flirt, through and through. You hardly ever entertained his flirtatious manner; rebutting with either attitude or timid silence was more your style. So, the last thing you needed was for him to take your words to heart, however genuine they might be.

He blinked in surprise, only to quickly laugh it off. “Thank you, but I don’t think the spotlight will be on me tonight,” he said, his eyes scanning your dress from head to toe, then settling back on your face. “I hate to admit it, but Snow knows beauty when he sees it.”

“Snow knows everything,” you replied sarcastically.

And there it was again. That out-of-character shift in his demeanour. Like a storm cloud had suddenly rolled over head, dampening the mood with its gloomy presence. This was becoming a more frequent occurrence each time you saw Finnick and you were desperate to know why. What had changed?

Sunshine broke through the clouds again in the form of a splitting grin. “Unfortunately, so,” he said, brushing the topic aside as though it were nothing. “Would you like to dance? Give them a taste of real beauty?”

You couldn’t say no.

The instrumentals had slowed to the tempo of an assumed waltz. Although you had been trained in social etiquette, dancing was not your strong suit—unless you counted drunk dancing. With this knowledge, Finnick took the lead, his hand gently cupping your waist, another interlocking your own, and you followed his simple steps until you found a comfortable rhythm.

“I have got to know who your dancing instructor is,” Finnick quipped, his tone full of jest. “He’s got to be pretty talented to be able to teach you how to dance. Undeniably attractive too, considering your incredibly vain nature.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “I can’t seem to recall his name. Not very remarkable. Phineas was it? Or maybe it was Finnley.”

“That hurts, sweetheart.”

“Truth hurts, Odair,” you said, sending him a teasing smile.

He chuckled, the dance continuing smoothly. “You’re getting better,” he said, his voice now sounding sincere.

Before you met Finnick, fitting in with higher society was a struggle. All of their customs and etiquette seemed so foreign to you, especially since you came from a lower-ranking district. But as he meticulously wound himself into your web, he brought with him an abundance of knowledge which he happily shared with you.

You had spent countless hours together, learning different subjects such as how to keep conversations going, the art of seduction, and even dancing, even though you never quite got it down.

Times came when dangerous situations arose—conferences with President Snow, meeting obsessiveCapitol citizens, and being given unreasonable demands. More than once, Finnick saved your life through his guidance. You owed him everything and more.

Heat spread in the places his hands touched you, subduing the slight chill of the winter air. You would expect someone from District 4 to be cold, as the ocean was like a second home to them, with their days spent fishing, swimming, and collecting underwater vegetation in the cold depths. Despite this, everything about Finnick radiated warmth. His bronze hair was like the embers of a dying fire; his skin was fiery upon touch. Even his smile was sunny, always beaming like a golden ray of light.

Slowly, the fairy lights transformed in colour, highlighting the luxurious scenery and both yours and Finnick’s clothing. White turned to green, accentuating the striking colour of Finnick’s eyes which gazed down upon you as your bodies swayed together. After green came a colour that turned your dress a deep crimson.

“This one’s my favourite,” Finnick said, his voice so melodious it sounded like a part of the orchestra.

“Why is that?”

You felt his hand glide to your lower back and your knees almost buckled.

“Because—” The music swelled before its end and he gracefully dipped you as if to emphasise his answer— “you always look stunning in red.”

Everything went quiet. The music had ended and all you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears. Beautiful sea green washed over your body, enveloping you in complete serenity that resembled the feeling of floating beneath the ocean’s surface. Finnick was there with you, holding you in his arms, his eyes penetrating deep into your own—sea-green serenity.

You lowered your gaze to his lips, admiring the pink colour and velvetiness. It was a dilemma you constantly struggled with—having a crush on the Finnick Odair. The Capitol’s Darling. Everybody wanted him; some actually got him. You heard whispers of his little adventures in the Capitol, how a select few would get to spend the night with him whenever he visited.

There was no judgement on your part; Finnick was your closest friend. And that was all he would ever be, making you the most envious of them all. Condemned to forever wishing to be something more than platonic. Always being the one watching from the sidelines. That was the singular thing you had in common with the people of the Capitol.

But in that fleeting moment, you were undeniably certain no one had ever yearned to kiss anyone more than you yearned to kiss Finnick. Your heart lurched when his eyes flickered to your lips and suddenly, you were questioning whether or not he felt the same. When he started to lean in closer, your heart just about exploded.

But before anything could happen, you realised that the waters were infested with gossip-hungry sharks, waiting for their moment to strike.

Soft murmurs were echoing around you, reeling your harsh reality back into existence. Finnick too noticed and pulled you back into a standing position. His hands dropped from your body and without a second glance, he took off in the opposite direction, leaving you momentarily in shock.

“Wha—Finnick!” you exclaimed, trailing after him.

You weaved through the crowd of engrossed bystanders, ignoring their hushed whispers and unwavering stares. Finnick had climbed two of the marble steps leading up to the mansion before you reached out and grabbed his white sleeve, forcing him to face you.

“What, Y/N?” he snapped, wearing an expression that was a mixture of frustration and hurt. The usage of your real name took you aback. He would always call you ‘sweetheart’ or some other term of endearment. Hardly ever your name. “What do you want?”

You shook your head, confused as to where his sudden hostility had come from. “What’s going on with you?” you asked, searching his eyes for anything that would help you understand, but there were too many emotions for you to decipher. “Whenever we see each other it’s like something is weighing you down. Sometimes you can’t even look me in the eyes and then other times you’re asking me to dance with you and flirting with me. I don’t understand, is it me? Have I done something?”

He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as he averted his gaze. You let out an exasperated breath, lowering your gaze to his chest in frustration. The brilliance of his white shirt caught your attention and a troubling thought popped into your mind. “Has Snow done something?”

His eyes snapped to yours, a silent command to lower your voice. Descending one step, Finnick leaned down, towering over your body. His voice was low, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

In one last attempt to break through his barrier, you slid your hand into his. “Then explain it to me,” you pleaded. “Please.”

The inner turmoil was evident on Finnick’s face. His gaze softened but the deep worry lines were still etched into his skin. For a moment, you believed he was finally going to lower his walls. However, your hope was diminished as he exhaled a long, weary breath and said, “I wish I could.”

And then his hand slipped out of yours, disappearing entirely as he ascended the stairs and left you at the bottom, defeated.

tags: @bellamybellamyblake @teigo-the-explorer

part three

[opal-owl-flight]

John. John Splatoon. The man, the goofball the sweetest man youll see. Chatty, bubbly, and gives really good team morale.

But things arent all sweet.

I wonder if he shuts himself up when he feels hes being *too* jolly.

His family is kind. Its not their fault. Yknow how people are fucking mean to those who are very excited abt things.

I think he had an experience like that. Tanara was thankfully there when things started getting really bad.

John was made fun of when he first started turfing. He was just sooo excited abt it all. So enthusiastic!! He studied abt the greats, the top players, all that. And the bitchass mean kids thought itd be funny to crush his dreams.

They made fun of him when he rambles abt strategy. They mocked him whenever he tries to be a hero and gets fucking splatted for it (OH GEE, IF HIS TEAMMATES WERE ACTUALLY *HELPING* HIM HE WOULDNT HAVE GOTTEN GOT).

One time I think some bastard jammed his weapon so it was unusuable for a while, and he was unable to turf.

"Good riddance," the team had said. "That beak is finally quiet for once."

Tanara saw this happening and decided to stand up for him.

They saw this boy getting picked on, and didnt hesitate in open firing at the bastards. Didnt care if theyll get banned for a week for firing a weapon off the field.

"|Hey, are you the guy who cornered me in the last match? Color me impressed.|"

Tanara doesnt stand for bullies. Ever. They hate seeing these kinds of people in the leagues. They hate the fact that these nutjobs are so good at the game!!! they want to make the leagues a fun place for everyone. None of this fuckinh bullshit. From a young age theyve already defended others. Wanted to make a better world where everyone can just be who they wanted to be, grow into their best selves.

The orange squid was a big help. With them actually recognizing his talent and running by his side,,,

They made him believe in himself. Fuck what everyone else says.

"|We won because of your strategy,|" they sign. "|If it werent for you, we'd have lost the tournament.|"

And hes given a smile of encouragement. Oh, sweet understanding, sweet recognition.

For a tender year they and John built a strong team and friendship. John became this cheery man bc of them.

They helped him stand up for himself. Helped him in the art of not giving a fuck. Or raining retribution where it is applicable (the duo have sent bullies crying after giving fjem say -- a 20 second rainmaker match)

Whenever someone tries to make fun of him in the later years, or now -- even if Tanara is out of the picture bc theyre getting blended -- he will literally ignore the naysayers. Bc he knows. He knows Tanara believes in him. He knows his team believes in him. He knows many others do, as well.

He knows his own capabilities. He knows what his limits. And hes. God, theres a reason hes second in command. Hes smart about the sport. Hes scary on the field. Dont let the goofy attitude fool you. Hes having fun but you on enemy team wont!

Some people are recently saying that Tanara left their old team bc John was lagging too far behind them, that Ink Typh∞n is the natural next step for them.

Dead wrong dipshits. If anything, those two are eye to eye.

If Tanara wasnt forced to retire, theyf still be fighting by his side.

-----------

Ofc its not all perfect. He still shuts down sometimes. Shuts himself up if he gets scared of offending someone/in general.

If he doesnt get reassurance or proves to himself/his naysayers of his own capabilities, he starts going quiet, smiling less.

Those wounds still hurt, Im afraid....

-----------

And what about after Octo Expansion.

What was going through his mind?

Like....this is your best friend. The one who helped you become the man you are. They were your role model. Theyre so strong, so assured. Confident. Ruthless on the turf. So skilled that nothing can faze them. Believed in you like no one else did.

And youre watching them seem to get worse day by day.

Theyre closing up. Theyre not telling you anything. You reach out but they dismiss you. And their colors only get more desaturated with time. They still believe in you, but its clear that theres something bothering them.

You try to share your joy with them, talking about the things you liked. Like old times. It turns out however, that the character you idolized in the media you consume, is them.

And it explains everything.

An entire secret double life and they didnt tell you.

You were their best friend. They were by your side when you struggled to make it in this city. They gave you assurance when your confidence started to fail.

They were your hero.

Where were you then, when they needed one themself?

They slump into John's arms,,

Theyre only older than him by a year. but they feel so,,

They feel so frail. A shadow of how they used to be. A body broken by war, a mind and heart ravaged by worry and vigilance and the weight of the world on their shoulders.

They tell him that they dont want him to take this load. They tell him he doesnt deserve it.

He says he has no plans of getting into this, not directly. He just wants them to come back to him after duty, or allow him to help in any way he can.

He'll just wait by the door, like he always has.

And hes holding them. He wants to keep them there til everything becomes okay again.

[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (pt. 1)

part two: here

Synopsis: Having been several years since you’d last seen your favorite gangster family, you return to Small Heath a changed woman with a stronger attitude than you had when you left. 

information: this will be a multi part story! idk how many parts exactly, but there will be more!

warnings: none for this chapter!

please leave all comments and reccommendations below! thank you for reading!

“Aye, what does a woman have to do to get a whiskey around here?”, you shouted, rapping your hand on the bar counter. 

You were seated at The Garrison, it was your first stop back in town. You had lived in Small Heath most of your early life, but five years ago you were forced to leave due to your fathers death and your mothers general distrust (and dislike) of the Shelby family. Your mother had kicked you out a few days ago, claiming that you were old enough to be married now, and that she wouldn’t stand for you staying in her house if you weren’t going to look for a husband. 

“Calm down Lady, I’ll- Holy Shit! Y/N, what are you doin’ back!”, a man's voice rang out, making you and the rest of the bar look in his direction. 

Arthur Shelby had always been one of your favorite Shelby siblings, and for good reason. He was loud, funny, and typically a gentleman if you caught him on the right day. You leaned over the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck, nearly bruising him in the process. You had hoped your whole journey here that he would be the first Shelby you saw, and luck had worked out for you this time. 

“Arth, I am sure glad to see you! It’s been a long time, aye?”, you spoke, removing your arms from him and sitting back on your barstool. 

“Hell, it’s been about, what, five years? You don’t show your face around these parts for five fuckin’ years and then you just come back?”, he said, staring you in the face, with a somewhat more serious look in his eye than you had expected. 

‘Yeah, had some family troubles, but I’m back for good now,” you swallowed, “how's all the Shelby’s doin’?” 

“Eh, the usual. Tommys about to run himself ragged, Pol acts like she owns us all, I’m workin’ here now, I actually own the place!” he said, spilling out most of that information in one breath. 

You took a quick survey of the bar, noticing how the decor and table setup had changed since you’d seen it last. The floor was still the same sticky, slimy feeling though. 

“Glad to see you doing well, Arth. Now, please get me a whiskey an i’ll be outta your way!” you spoke, glad to have reunited with Arthur, but not glad to have been out in public this long. 

“Ah, ah. If you think I’m letting you get out of here without seein’ Tom, you’re messed in the head!” He joked, but as you watched him move towards the window to the private room, you realized he wasn’t joking. 

You had not come prepared to see Thomas. He was the only one who never got a goodbye, even though the rest of them didn’t know they were goodbyes at the time. When you were being forced to leave, you managed to sneak over to Watery Lane and have one last conversation with all the Shelbys before you left, and you never told them you were leaving that night. Thomas had been on business, but got home a few minutes after you left. You had regretted not speaking to him then, but now that regret had turned into a fear after hearing about the man he had become while you were away. You had heard things about Thomas Shelby, and they were not things any girl would like to hear about her long-time crush.

‘Oy, that Tommy Shelby is a real whore’

‘I heard he gets around Small Heath like its a full time job’

‘He pays them ya know? Every girl he fucks gets paid, even if theyre not workin’ for it!’

Those were all just some of the things you had heard, and those weren’t even the things you had heard that were related to his newfound habit of murdering those who crossed him. You’ve had your eyes on Tommy Shelby ever since you were 16. Now aged 21, it had been a long enough time that you realized what kind of person you needed to settle with, and logically, he wasn’t it. 

While this entire catalog of thoughts was running through your head, your eyes watched as Arthur got closer and closer to that window. You knew you weren’t ready to see him yet, if you ever would be. So acting on those primal prey instincts, you ran. You hopped off the barstool, and started pushing your way through the crowd of bar patrons, finally having the door insight. You wrapped your hand around the handle, and pulled it open. Stepping into the cool air of the night, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you closed the bar door behind you. Just as you were stepping away from the door to begin your walk to the apartment you were renting, you bumped into something, or rather, someone. 

“Thought I’d let you run from me a second time, aye?”

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“I-I-”, you stammered, not having any idea what to say, now that you were staring at the face of one Thomas Shelby. 

“It’s okay, I’d be nervous too if I ran into someone I left in the dust five years ago.”, he laughed, letting a puff of cigarette smoke roll out of his mouth. 

“Tommy, how did you even know I was out here? I watched Arthur and left before he even opened the window, I don’t underst-”

“Shh. I have my ways, ya know I have my ways.” he spoke, that cool, gravelly voice still hadn’t changed, even after all this time. 

You finally looked up at him, releasing the death stare you had on his chest. He was more handsome now, if that was even possible. His dark hair styled perfectly, like he had touched it up before meeting you outside. His hat was missing, which was a rare occurrence, but you were enjoying the unobstructed view of his face. He was lean, only muscle was visible through his white shirt, and his pants hugged his legs perfectly. He was beautiful, especially in the face. You could see more defined freckles in the glow of the street lamp, along with more defined lines carved into his forehead. You continued to study his face, while his studied yours. You had definitely matured in your time away, but not only on your face. Your lips had gotten fuller, cheek bones more pronounced, and hair longer; but you had also grown tits and an ass. You knew you had assets, and fully planned on using them to your advantage, just not on Tommy Shelby. 

“My God, Y/N, I’d say you grew up…”, he trailed off, eyes looking all over your face and body. 

“Yeah, that tends to happen to people as they age, Tom.” you laughed, feeling suddenly insecure as you stood under his microscope. 

“What are ya doin’ back in town? I imagined you ran off and got married or somethin’,” he spoke, “But, I don’t see a ring on that finger so either that can’t be right or you married a poor bastard.” 

“Not married Tom, never was. It’s part of the reason I’m back in town, but-” 

“What are ya doin’ tomorrow evening?”, he cut off, not even letting you finish explaining how you didn’t want to talk about it right now. 

“Nothing I know about, why?”, you asked, having no idea what was about to come out of that pretty mouth of his. 

“Join me for dinner, yeah? I’d love to sit down and have a chat with ya, but I got to go handle some business right now.”, he spoke, suddenly sounding strained. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll get dinner with ya, where at?” 

“My place, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow at 6, Goodnight, Y/N.” Tom spoke, brushing shoulders with you lightly as he passed by, heading back into The Garrison.

[utilitycaster]

I said this late last night but actually, I was serious: I really do feel like the stasis bubbles are ultimately at the core of Ludinus's attitude towards Aeor, and the fact that he doesn't seem to have focused on them at all is the key to understanding his agenda.

I don't believe the stasis bubbles are a lost cause. I think there's certainly failure points, ie, I think if one does not go about this with utmost care then yes, the people within will rapidly age or wither to dust and be lost. But I don't think a successful release of the Aeorians in these bubbles is impossible within the canon of Critical Role. I think it is very, very difficult, but I think it could be done.

Ludinus doesn't seem to have focused on this at all - not even a half-assed attempt. He's gone for a literal moonshot, connecting with something he didn't even know existed and destroying Molaesmyr in the process. To his limited credit I think it's entirely likely he didn't know about these stasis bubbles until Aeor excavations began about 60 years ago, but I don't think Aeor became his focus until he realized he could strip it for parts: both for its technology, and as part of his propaganda machine.

Ludinus's grudge against the gods began with the end of the Calamity, in his own youth, in those final battles, and we know that he was already studying mages like Laerryn and using the harness to extend his lifespan while he lived in Molaesmyr. He may very well have known about Aeor, but his goal was to kill the gods. He only just saw what was in the Occultus Thalamus now.

Aeor is a useful tool to him, and it's a better tool to him if he can act like it's lost forever and everyone is dead. Aeorians only help him if they're doomed corpses. If he cared about the deaths of the people of Aeor and the culture of the city, why let his general repeatedly target FCG, one of its only current survivors? Why shut down the researchers from Uthodurn and the Dynasty in the past 7 years? Why push towards this Thalamus even as his army falls to Dominox when the stasis bubbles are just outside? Are those collapses Essek noted just the ravages of time, or was he destroying the city even further?

He doesn't really care about Aeorians in the slightest. He wants to kill the gods, and treats this mass slaughter and cultural destruction of Aeor as a boon that fell into his lap so that he can say "look what they took from you" to the world that he's been ravaging and slaughtering his way through himself for the past few months (and, on a slower but no less violent scale, the last millennium). The second he lets one of the Aeormatons brought back by D speak? Or brings back one of the thousands of Aeorians who could, perhaps, survive and come back and even revive that lost knowledge? Well, then it's not lost forever at the hands of the gods now, is it, and that makes for bad press, and we can't have that now, can we, not when we're about to crack open the moon and eat the gods! Sorry that a phoenix killed your family and no one could resurrect them, but you know how it is. Let bygones be bygones, unless they're his trauma and his trauma alone.

Any claim that he cares about Aeor is a lie. He cares for himself and no one else. He loves that Aeor is gone because it's always been gone to him and, like any fossil, is only good as fuel for his own agenda. And we and Bells Hells are about to see a glimpse of life in the city that's more convenient to him when it's dead, and he thinks that's going to help his cause.

[dr-spectre]

Ok... is it safe to talk about Sonic Movie 3 spoilers yet? The movie is out on digital and it's been over a month.

Idk. Anyways.

I am both curious and utterly terrified on how they are gonna write Metal Sonic and Amy for Sonic Movie 4.

I will start off with my boy Metal first.

Metal Sonic to me is a very interesting character due to his goals and motivation. His goal to prove that he is the REAL Sonic and that he's better than the "fake" one. The way that he acts is a near perfect replication of Sonic's attitude, from the finger wagging to the poses he does in Sonic CD and the OVA, he is all about proving that he is Sonic the Hedgehog.

Metal Sonic is just not a simple robotic clone, he has depth to him and they expand upon GREATLY when he becomes Neo Metal Sonic and becomes SO OBSESSED with proving that he's the real Sonic by turning into a monster and trying to rule over everything, just so he can finally kill Sonic.

EVEN EGGMAN IS LIKE "Yeah naw dude we're fucked, we NEED the chaos emeralds to have a chance at beating him."

After his Heroes appearance, he became nothing more than a robotic clone used in spinoff games and in terrible mainline games like Sonic 4 and Forces. He only had splashes of depth to him in the IDW comics with this phenomenal scene.

So when i see Metal Sonic and a whole army of him in the post credit scene of Sonic Movie 3, i can't help but feel VERY WORRIED on what they are gonna do with him.

I mean don't get me wrong, the design is nearly on par with the game version, aside that fucking mouth piece thing, it looks AWFUL!!!! I HATE ITTTT!!

WHAT IS THIS!?!? WHY DOES HE HAVE AN ANGRY MOUTH!? ITS NOT SCARY AT ALL LMAO!

But now I'm just wondering, will they give Metal Sonic that depth he used to have? Will we actually see Neo Metal Sonic or will the main Metal Sonic be the coloured one we saw?

I don't want Metal Sonic to be like his appearances in Sonic 4 Episode 2 and Forces. I want it to rival his appearance in the OVA and Heroes dude. I want a fucking great antagonist, not a cheap robot that shoots out energy blasts.

I want a god damn intimidating robot Sonic.

Now... Amy Rose.

As some of you probably know, i like a character wrapped in pink, is hyperactive, wields a giant melee weapon and is always mischaracterized in the fandom they are from. When i was younger, i used to dismiss her or think she was just funny and move on. But as i've gotten older, i've actually grown to really like the character, especially in the older 3D games and with retranslation mods. Her story with Gamma was beautiful, her speech to Shadow, her jokes, her flirty/fangirl attitude towards Sonic. It's really fun to watch. Most media has a boy fall in love with the girl, but with Amy and Sonic, it's the opposite. Their dynamic is unique.

I also love how in some stories, Amy can get REAL PISSED OFF and have anger issues. Even roses has thorns.

However... in more recent stories like Frontiers, her personality has been mellowed out by a lot and her crush for Sonic is pretty much gone now. She's all about "sharing love with the world" now and her anger issues are gone.

Some say she's grown up and "oh she changed!" But we actually don't see this character growth at all. It's one thing to tell a story about how Amy learns that maybe her love for Sonic is too much and she learns to just be a good friend to Sonic. But it's another when the character has a MASSIVE personality change between Lost World, Forces and Frontiers. AND THEN THEY CHANGED GENERATIONS TO MAKE AMY LESS FLIRTY AND ANGRY LIKE.... HUH!?!? WHY!?!?!? THAT'S NOT HOW YOU WRITE A CHARACTER ARC!!!!! YOU GOTTA SHOW IT!!!! (A lot of Sonic characters have this issue too so it's not just an Amy problem.)

And them also doing the whole "Amy is no longer a damsel in distress anymore and her love for Sonic is over" is just... no dude. Amy was a damsel a couple of times and they never lasted that long. She's not on the same level as Peach. And the IDW comics tried to make her a Sally Acorn type character for some reason as well at first. Which was REALLY WEIRD! But maybe it's changed idk, i haven't kept up with the comics these days.

The only Amy that i really like in more modern stories is the one from The Murder of Sonic The Hedgehog. Now THAT'S how you write Amy.

So now, when i see Amy come in with a hood on and destroying Metal Sonics with ease, I'm left wondering, "oh no... how are they gonna write her?"

Will they actually show Amy's crush on Sonic? Will Amy just have Sally's personality? Will they give her some damn thorns? Will they make it to where SONIC IS THE ONE WITH THE CRUSH!?!? PLEASE DON'T DO THAT! DO NOT GO THE GENERIC ROUTE PLEASE!!

If they make it to where when Amy takes off her hood in Sonic Movie 4 and immediately falls for Sonic I'll eat all of my words, but i doubt that would happen....

Anyhow, those were my thoughts, i know that it's too early to make a definitive statement on things but i just wanna voice my concerns due to other recent Sonic stories not landing in the characterisation department for me.

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[dapper-lil-arts]

I'm invested now, why don't you like fluttercord?

Okay, here we go then, why don't I like one of the most famous and prolific ships on the fandom?

First of all, there's a major power imbalance at play, you know, chaos god that can reshape mind and reality with a snap of his fingers matched with a regular pegasus girl, and an drastic age difference (which could be discarded cause Fluttershy's an adult, just worth a mention.)

But the primary issue comes from the canon itself, especially with how they came together. Fluttershy was just shafted for her full responsibility to be to make sure Discord gets better; Something that already was a strange choice of Celestia (like girl why are you throwing a random mortal you dont know that well onto a godlike chaos being even you struggled with? It reeks of writers already having come up a solution and not wanting to build a foundation to lead there.) and canon proves again and again that if discord doesnt have fluttershy around, he will make bad choices and hurt people, something that gets proven again and again all the way to gen fucking five. That's textbook codependency and it makes it even more weird by the incredible, terrifying power imbalance. Discord isnt just an alicorn, hes the only one of his kind because of how powerful he is, and his powers are insanely dangerous to have on a relationship with a mortal. Like, you saw how he was when he was jealous of Fluttershy for having a diffrent friend. Can you imagine what he'd do if somebody flirted with her? (even if they weren't dating, if Fluttershy said she got a girlfriend or whatever, Discord would straight up throw rainbow dash on a labyrinth of infinite agony)

I think my primary issues come from the canon because he is always abusing his powers, never using them wisely, and always causing trouble (WHICH WAS THE ORIGINAL POINT OF EVEN BRINGING HIM BACK TOO)-- And the ratio of slaps on the wrist lower dramatically by the end (the final conflict is entirely his fault purely because he thought having a conflict would be cool)-- All of which just makes him untrustworthy to be on a relationship with a mortal hes obssesed with. He'd be like a yandere boyfriend exept a chaos god, which, yikes!

Srsly the fact that cozy glow the toddler gets sent to hell and turned to stone instead of the chaos god that sponsored her is just plain WEIRD. It's a writers problem.

There's a reasons why Alicorns have to ascend, earn their power-- And why they tend to abuse it less. Being born with power just begets a diffrent attitude towards it; Which is smth that the writers do interpret quite well, with how Discord acts. he has no empathy, he doesnt need to care, because reality is his to shape, and then boom, teaching someone to be better just became a lot harder. Good character! Very funny, very well designed and voiced-- But goddamn he's weirdly written as a ""Good"" guy.

Now lets finally turn to the woman in the relationship. because Fluttershy is a normal mortal gal with a normal mortal life with her own needs, which generally shouldn't have to involve her entire life or routine on making sure a godlike manbaby does the right thing with his powers. it doesn't feel like the kind of thing that has any consent to it, after all, discord doesnt need to ask for anything, he can just do. (THANKS FOR THE IDEA CELESTIA) It just reeks of a kind of misoginy-ass writing where the woman has to bend over backwards for the man.

Its like the shy pegasus was just. Set up for LIFE on this strange relationship. Its kind of creepy.

And Fluttershy just deserves better than him in my opinion; And she can do better, too. Also it doesnt help that you know-- 99% other ship with fluttershy dont have any of these issues lmao. Even canon Rainbow Dash would treat her better, so i dont bother with Fluttercord ever!