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yandere-wishes · 7 months ago

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⋆.˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜 𝕍𝕒𝕔𝕒𝕪 ⋆.˚

𐙚Yandere! Qimir X Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He steals you in summer. Castaway on a planet with no name. But the way his eyes shine under the hot sun has your heart beating out of your chest.

⁀➷ Does this count as "That's that me, espresso"?

🪐 Yandere behavior, obsessive tendencies, Stockholm syndrome, blood, and gore.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ Espresso by Sabrina Carpender

Dark Vacay by CAS

The heat licks at your neck dangerously. The scathing red glow cleaves through flesh, through bone.

Warm, warm, warm.

The sort of swelter befitting rampant volcanos and rebirthing suns.

The man, no, the Sith has you pinned to his chest. His force,a dark pulsating thing, coiling through your body, keeping you rooted.

Sol's voice echoes through the canopy. Sending ripples through the blood-matted forest floor. "Release her." His saber is drawn, pointed.

Blue vs red.

Hot vs cold.

"Give me the relic." The voice lacks emotion, empathy. It demands, it takes. There is no room for formalities here, no chivalry you've long believed in. This monster deals only in dark. Taking and taking. "And I won't hurt her".

You try to push him away, to fight. Your force against his, clawing at the dark ether around you, hunting for an aperture, a splinter anything to infiltrate. But he is resilient, strong the way most volcanos are.

Impenetrable.

You moan against the tightening noose. He demands and you must obey. Such a dark thing can even make your master bow, make him give up the ancient blood-red relic. "You have your relic, now release my pupil." Behind you the monster chuckles, an airy noise overflowing with malice, "I said I wouldn't hurt her, not that I'd give her back."

The lights dull. Neon fading into a fuzzy mess of colors too tangled to decipher. Voices weave bending to the blaring buzz echoing from within. The world grows darker, you try to clutch onto something, anything. The cool colors of saber light, the soothing tone of your master's voice. The monster's dark cadence. But it's no use, the darkness prevails, pulling you under its crushing waves, burying you in a sea of nihil.

The world is dim upon resurgence. The air tastes of salt, fresh and dry upon the throat. The earth you lay in is warm, not like the smoldering heat of a bloodborne saber, but the warmth you imagine a mother's embrace to hold. Soft in every way that counts.

The place is alien and abandoned. No family, no monsters. Just rock upon rock and makeshift furniture to further the illusion of a makeshift home. The pounding upon your temples has yet to cease, you wonder if the outlines of a bruise have yet to bloom.

Slowly, you emerge from the cocoon of worn blankets. Bare feet scraping across the jagged floor. You feel the monster's presence linger, his essence strong within this place. You remember the dragon dens you used to read about in fairy tales. The gold-adorned caves where little princesses were forced to dwell.

It's funny you should feel like one now.

There are clothes sprawled across the floor. Vanilla ice cream in shade and shape, they feel too pure to have been chosen by a man like him. Too pure to have been tainted by the darkness of his fingertips. It's only now that the dress glares back that you notice your bareness, Jedi robes stripped and discarded.

That fiend...

You feel skinned, alone. No saber to grasp, no golden drapes. Nothing to paint you as Jedi. It's with reluctance that you lace yourself into the sweet dress, with utter reluctance that you step out onto the beach of rocks awaiting outside.

You spot the man,

the sith.

Qimir

His name reverberates within your head. You lick each letter, rolling them across your tongue and drinking in their condensation. "Qi-mi-rr" the name shouldn't taste of exotic fruits blended and bled. It shouldn't taste like fruit cocktails and coconut cubes but it does.

It does and it's disgustingly delicious.

He walks with the steady strout of a man who knows he is the most dangerous thing on this beach, on this island, on this entire planet. A volcano among mountains.

You follow behind bare feet on smooth rocks. Fumbling across the beach.

Chasing shadows. Chasing monsters.

He sheds his robes like skin, peeling away sabbath vestments to reveal cutis. Tanned and scarred, marred flesh risen like volcano veins cascading across his spine.

You shouldn't admit how desperately your fingers ache to trace the tragic thing. You glid your nails across the notched igneous rocks. Dreaming its soft flesh, his soft flesh beneath your touch. He would shutter under your fingertips as you pull apart his secrets. Nibbling on them like picnic cookies.

He's stripped bare, soft skin caught in the dim sun. His open wounds glisten under soft gold rays. You skate away from the sight, that forbidden sun-drenched sight. Eyes averted and hidden behind the rocks, twice locked, to avoid a rogue glance.

He is nothing if not haunting, forbidden in every way.

Odd how the memory of his bare ankles is what lingers. Carved too steep and too deep in a way that looks too marble. They merge into long robust legs. You can't help but imagine the sculpture of his thighs after, the thing at the end of those perplexing ankles. They too must be strong, carved to define each muscle. You imagine being trapped between them, their forceful push against your meaker body as his ankles intertwine with yours.

"You can open your eyes now."

You taste his darkness in your mouth again. Potent tropical fruits laced with sea salt. He couldn't have known you were trailing after him, you'd been quiet, silent like a whisper.

"It's improper to strip out in the open. What would you have done if someone should have come upon you?"

He treads in the water like a pearl unearthed. Shimmering alongside the blue-green of the lagoon. "You came upon me and nothing happened."

"That's because I had the good graces to avert my gaze from such a sight."

"I'd prefer if you'd look."

He pours water over his face, sparkly droplets cascading down sharp cheekbones. Eyes wide with an odd groggy wonder. The sky and the sea and him ethereally in between. He shouldn't look so magical. Some water nymph playing spike ball with the sun. Drinking in the clouds and blue. Before diving back down into his aquatic galaxy.

"Join me"

"I'd rather impale myself"

he's treading closer, water shielding his body like liquid lapis lazuli. "I wonder what your lips will taste like blue?" and it's the first time you've ever thought of your order's regalia as something so macabre.

His eyes are half-lidded, licking over your body like a melting Sunday. Or maybe he actually is, you can feel something wet and sinister sliding across your body. Slipping over and under the dress, sucking at pulse points. Anticipating soft vanilla.

You want to rip out his tongue and harbor in your mouth. You want to devour him as if he were ice cream on a summer day. Butterscotch cone with drizzled caramel and star sprinkles. Your teeth ache desperately for just one small bite.

He's standing, growing into a full man, no longer just a boy nymph memorized by soft whites and bright blues. The water droplet clutch greedy to taut muscles, refusing to leave such a Promethean thing.

The wet thing freezes. Running water to ice cube. His force evaporates from you, you bask in the mist of him. Before the shadow roots behind you impenetrable all over again. Qimir steps closer and you close your eyes on instinct. Stepping back, following the flow of sand in breeze.

Such sights are not for us to love.

It tips you off balance, You can't see Qimir but you can feel him. He's closer and closer. That's why you're stalking back. But the plasmic thing behind you nicks your ankle. Lurching you back. In the blink of an eye and the start of a scream, you're suspended in mid-air. Floating above the sands, save in the gossamer of his black mist.

"Careful" Qimir jests

And you crack your eye open just enough to see his outstretched hand.

"I want to take a shower"

"The lagoone is over there" he throws over his shoulder all so causally. like spelling out sea cemetary.

the warmth of the cave is suffocating. Lacing through your body making it breakout into little pearls of hidrosis. You roll over, watching Qimir, solder the cracks of his helmet. The rampant sparks cast him in a galactic white halo. Some intangible creature from the far reaches of the universe.

You wonder back to the incident by the lagoon.

You wonder if his tongue, his real tongue, would feel cool against your flaring skin. Muscle-bound ice cube rolling across your arms, your chest, drinking in your essence in half kisses and open-lipped moans. Sucking tenderly on the veins of your neck.

But shouldn't the tongues of monsters be spiked? cutting deep in search of blood?

Qimir swats the sweat from his temples. Pulling up the back of his shirt in an effort to fight the humidity. His scars transcend so low. Rivers weaving through him, overflowing with treasured secrets. You suck in the force through your lips drinking in its cold confidence. Marching up to stand behind him, only half admiring the rugged skin below the sandy shirt.

"Ahem" Spine straight, head held high. Your stance is practiced, sculpted in the confidence that the order demands. Lightside in every way.

Jedi, Jedi, Jedi

"I know it is futile to ask a treasonous sith like you to abide by the laws of common decency. But I'd ask that you do not come to spy on me while I bathe" Your hands ball into firsts. Glaring death and shark teeth at his blemished back.

He leaves the workbench with all the grace of a crushing tide. Elegance carved from salt rocks and years of walking through stars and shadows. But this time you refuse to step back. There is no dishabille to fear, no sand lines that may be passed.

But he doesn't confront you. He doesn't bask in his rage and stands proudly in front of you. No, instead he paces, or rather almost floats. He's in front of you one minute and behind you the next. The eerieness of it all only comes from the feeling of entombment. He is your cage, your coffin. Burying you under the sand with his precious secrets and red relics. Your nerve beats out of you in little droplets.

Qimir's fingers lace with your own, his hot breath fans the shell of your ear, "How can I make such promises when you act so cute" his voice is coconut shavings upon white sand. You aren't even sure he spoke. " I thought Sith only dealt in absolutes?" his laughter cuts like fractured seashells. Cutting through heartstrings. You want to hear it again and again until you've memorized its melody. "That's what we want the Jedi to believe."

His teeth graze the nape of your neck. That's the last straw, gravity crushes your nerve, and you take off running.

The pearls that shine within his sockets are entirely too dark. You shouldn't be thinking such this as you disrode. But the glimmer of pure drown isn't a worldly sight, it's something unplaceable.

Sith can not be trusted, even if, until mere days ago they had been things of fairytales like dragons and sea monsters. Mystical monsters used to frighten little padwans into finishing their plates. But the stories are true now, they've ripped open the holobooks and sprouted from the screen. Your fingers flex, feeling the weight of his hand in yours.

The monsters are real...

You keep your undergarments on as you descend with the sparkling tides. Qimir may appear at any moment. And you wish to confront a Sith in a Jedi's skin, or what little is left of it.

You're sinking into the watermelon greens and crystal blues, sinking into him... because even so far from the grotto his presence haunts your thoughts still.

"You wouldn't mind if I invite myself in?" The water laps at his feet, he's standing over the liquid threshold.

"What are you doing here?! I told you not to come."

he shrugs and you can't help but notice the definition of his muscles. "It's hot in the cave. Plus you don't own the beach."

He pulls the shirt over his head.

You scream for him to stop.

But this time as he pulls the waistband down you notice something underneath.

Swim trunks.

Bell-bottomed and shaped like a nebula, but only midnight in hue. The cuffs glimmer with red intricacies, patterns from a different time, a different solar system. Each stitch tells some tale of horror or history. Sith things that you'd rather not know. But why engrave them into a swimsuit? Why paint a tapestry on something so jejune?

He treads through the water, deadset on you. And again in every step, you notice a mettle valor that can only come from having killed and kissed your greatest fears.

The rocks are slippery beneath your feet, running, swimming, gliding whatever gets you further from him. But the rocks form barricades of their own. Igneous confines housing prey and beast.

"I meant it when I said you were cute." He has you pinned to the mineral mountains, eyes prying you open, studying your inner workings like a gutted bot. "So fragile so malleable..." You feel his power rolled over your neck.

You didn't expect the kiss. The taste of coconut shavings and caramel. Your heart hammers as he tugs on your hips, pulling you closer. Your lungs burn, filled with salt water and dark force energy.

But suffocating is a small price to pay when he parts your lips and pushes iced star fruits in your mouth.

That night Qimir had tried to feed you soup. Boiled fish and herbs in a cauldron that looks, entirely witch. But the refusal comes not from the perturbation of poison or the primal mistrust shared between star-crossed enemies.

No the refusal comes because you simply do not like fish.

"Just try a spoonful, it's from a rare breed. Considered a luxury on most planets". His entreaties fall on deaf ears, outvoiced by the stubbornness of a crashing tide. You retire hungry, and maybe it's hunger that stirs you in the dead of night.

Or maybe it's the heartbeat echoing from his mask.

He called it cortosis. But it looks more terror than diamond.

You sink to your knees in front of the haunted heirloom, cradling it gently within your palms. The iron flavor upon lips makes you part them, tongue fleshed tracing every welded scar. Sucking in the solder and crystal and every other poison.

You want to be a part of it, to pry open your ribcage and shove the empyrean taj within.

Let its darkness mingle with your blood. You want to feel it's royalty in the marrow of your bones.

In the morning you do not speak about the pulsating thing within. But the mask stares at you as you eat mint and bread from Qimir's hand.

It knows...

It knows things you can never admit.

You'd been planning on narrowly avoiding him. Tiptoeing across the cave to evade stirring him. But the plans die when first light breeches the aperture.

Qimir's gone.

And in his place, he's left yet another raiment.

The dress is summer and doll. Bowed in the back and studded.

Bar'biee in every way.

The hysterically placed designs parody the crisscross of twilight roses and all their thrones. Checkered in shades of obsidian and ink.

But the black of your dress doesn't quite match the ebony of his robes.

It simply plays testament to your ripeness. You're starting to feel like his little doll.

He lies on a beach towel overlooking the sea. So ordinary it makes you choke. Beach ball in the corner by his feet, waiting to be played with.

Fearless.

You wonder just who he had to kill to reach this hubris?

You float down the little exclaves toes barely touching the ground.

He's adorned the rocky beach with a comically large parasol too dark to even have a name. Another towel, a picnic basket, and little coconut cups with straws. Despite his black tainted sunglasses, he knows you're watching him. Caught in the bosom of this haunted shore. Awaiting your capturer's orders.

"You can sit if you want." again he's saying words without realizing how crushing they truly are. Their full weight pulling your bones until they slip from skin.

Might as well have said shark attack and death at sea.

But you obey because despite everything, the towel looks nice and so does the drink.

"The sun doesn't come out very often. But I figured we could at least enjoy it today."

"Thanks," you mutter chewing on the pink straw. You shift your limbs rigidly. Plastic doll coming to life. Pushing tense bones straight as you rest your uneasy head. The waves hum in your ear and you swear you hear the rocks buzze like star songs.

"Why did you bring me here? Why not kill me."

"Well, you're not really any use to me dead" He offers you a melon slice.

"So I'm bait." Qimir sighs, your query exhausting. He simply sips from his own drink. You notice the jounce of his throat with each gulp. How you'd love to ring to those bones, feel them crack between your fingers.

He turns to you, lips a breath away. He hasn't kissed you since that day in the lagoon. But you wish him too so very much.

This isn't the Jedi way...

What?

Qimir's fingers trace over your thighs and hips. Finally, they land heavily on your shoulders, pushing you into the rocks with zeal. He blocks the sun and you can't help but think he's lovelier than any red goliath in the macrocosm.

Qimir's teeth gnaw at your throat, kissing the blood and smearing it with his tongue. Traling open-mouth kisses to the plinth of your neck.

Your nails, rasp curiously at his back, tracing scars, tracing cortosis veins.

His fingers dig into your ribs, painting it in seastars. Kissing starlights and pearls in your bones. His body is hot, scolding. And you wonder if the minerals he surrounds himself with were all nursed in the womb of a violent volcano.

The result of destructive habits is knife bites called kisses and a heart that's finally exploded.

When he pulls off, he poises himself on his knees before falling back to his side, searching for something in the basket. You stare, dress distorted, and breath hitched. You taste the exotic fruit blend again. Burning, caramel, and coconut that linger across your body.

"Hey, can you put this on me?" reality blurs back in, he's dangling a yellow bottle in front of you. "What" he shouldn't have this ease with you. He shouldn't be playing make-believe lovers on the beach with the girl he kidnapped.

But he does.

And you play along too.

"it's sunscreen, believe it or not, I burn easily."

"No"

"please"

"N-"

You don't control your hand as it pours the cream onto his chest. He touches you with such familiarity, the force on this planet is just an extension of him. But you shy away at the thought of running your fingers across his muscle bound chest. What is the force if not a child's toy? If not another doll.

He notices the shyness. Or rather reads it from the air. His force pokes at your arms, laughing at the discomfort. Before you know it he's harbored between your thighs. Large hands holding your wrist.

Firm yet delicate.

He moves your hand over his chest, charting every bump and muscle. Coating the blocker over his skin. It feels like piecing together armor. Preparing him for a battle you've never been invited to.

You don't want this.

Well not quite.

You want to feel his body jolt under your touch and hear the sweet little quips he offers to lighten the mood. You want to capture the fleeting moment where he bites his lip and preserve it for eternity.

But more than anything you want to peel away his armor, his flesh, and bury yourself beneath. Become another one of his secrets and staying inside him. Safe and warm forever.

"Qimir"

He makes pomegranate soup that night. As he nestles your body over his lap. Kissing the half-healed bruise on your forehead. He brings the spoon to your lips and gently nudges your mind to let him in. You part your lips, welcoming him in with the shyness you've been raised on. Blushing little bride-doll.

Legacy. You realize when the seeds erupt inside your mouth.

He's feeding you his secrets, his bequest. Boiling you like the fish and the fruit. And birthing you anew.

You sleep with your head buried in the crux of his neck. Listening to the lullaby of his tattered heart, singing psalms of conquest.

That night you dream of a river red. You blame it on Qimir, the pomegranate seeds were too maroon in color and flavor.

From the crimson water the helmet surfaces. Bobbing in the waves, beckoning you. You cup your hands inside the river, guzzling down the water and licking your fingers after. You let the red kiss your lips and fill your lungs choking you by essence alone. You want to die drinking from the bloodlust. Die in front of his helmet.

So maybe he can call it love.

Or Devotion.

Or anything else equally sweet.

The river doesn't taste like pomegranates, or fruit cocktails, or iced coconut.

It tastes of salty iron, volcanic diamonds and Qimir's lips.

You plunge into the red...

He's thinking about you again. You know it from the moment you awake. His voice is loud inside your head. Reverberating from wall to wall until it is the only thing you hear.

This time the garments are waterproof. Swimwear. Two pieces in black, just black. And adorned with red trees on the seams.

Right, because you beat me in the forest.

Clever.

He has left bangles too, jagged and bruised purple with veins of white. cortosis. Accompanied by a golden necklace that looks like a beating heart, ripped freshly from someone's chest.

"You look beautiful," he remarks after you've dressed in his colors. When did he come in? You need to get better at hearing the man born from shadows. The man who's walking between worlds unseen, unheard his entire life.

He pulls you close, nails picking at the soft flesh of your tummy. Scratching skin and leaving red crescents. He kneels and licks and bites, claiming this new chart of unmarked skin.

This has always been about possession, domination, damnation. "Qimir" you moan and it feels so wrong and so right. Like saber to the heart.

Oh force, how far you've fallen.

Qimir laces his fingers with yours pulling you outside the cave. The sun shimmers off his lopsided smile and he really does glow brighter than every star in the known cosmos.

The lagoon is red.

It shouldn't be red.

"You killed them" Since when have such dire words spilled so easily from your lips? Sol, Jacki, Yord. Are they in this pool? shimmering translucent awaiting a vengeance you do not think you can deliver?

"Yes...But not your Jedi, not yet. These were just some self-pious knights who got in my way."

He brings his arm up showing you a fresh saber cut, before pulling you into the water. It's so warm boiling, lava meets water. You think your skin will peel off.

But you stand your ground. Force directing your every breath. Spine straight head high. Darkside in every way

Sith, sith, sith

You grasp at his forearm, pulling it to your lips. Your tongue finds the slit in the skin and dives it. Mapping out the muscles and drinking in the red.

Exotic fruits bled and blended.

"I think I'm finally getting through to you," Qimir says, brown pearls glazed over with pride. "My sweet little acolyte."

You giggle at the term. It tastes so bitter, like a raw espresso before dawn.

"Oh, master" you moan. As you pull him under the red waters. Lips and legs entwined.

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saradika-graphics · 1 year ago

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DIVIDERS MASTERLIST

AESTHETIC - CELESTIAL

— Stars & Space | Sun

— Stars & Space | Moon

— Stars & Space | Planets

— Stars & Space | Purple

— Stars & Space | Beige/Grey

— Dark Space

— Zodiac Dividers

AESTEHTIC - PRIDE

— Ace

— Bambi Lesbian

— Genderfluid

— Genderqueer

— Pan

AESTHETIC - FOOD

— Bakery | Part ii

— Chocolate

— Coffee/Tea

— Citrus

— Pancakes / Waffles

— Peaches

— Pies

— Pizza/Spaghetti

AESTHETIC - OTHER

— 50’s Neon Diner

— 70's Music / Flowers

— 80's Music / Rock

— Academia

— Angel / Cherub

— Arrows

— Art Deco (Blue Version)

— Art Nouveau

— Artist/Crafts

— Beige Daggers

— Blue & Orange Feathers

— Blood

— Cameras/Photography

— Car/Roadtrip

— Casino / Cards | part ii

— Celtic

— Chess Pieces / Card Suits

— Clouds

— Coffee / Cigarettes

— Cottagecore / Dark Academia | part ii

— Cowboy | part ii | dark | space | christmas

— Cute Pastel

— Eclipse

— iOS Emojis | part ii

— Fairy Lights

— Fantasy Weapons

— Forest

— Gems & Pearls

— Goblincore

— Music Notes

— Ocean | Part ii | Part iii

— Off-Center Dividers

— Pink/Coquette (blue & purple)

— Pirate/Mermaid

— Rain/Storm

— Ravens/Moons/Roses

— Red/Black Scroll Work | Silver/Gold

— Red Riding Hood

— Rings (Engagement/Christmas)

— Royalty | part ii

— Skeleton (black) | (grey/white)

— Smutty | Pastel

— Spooky Red / Deer

— Stained Glass

— Tech Dividers (green/black) | blue/orange

— Vampires | Royalty

— Viking

— Vintage Telephone

— Waves / Leaves

— Weapons

— Witchy

— Werewolves

— Windows/Webcore | part ii | part iii

✨(Everything was made using Canva - so check that app out if you’re looking to make your own! Credit is not required but a reblog would be great if you use! 💕) ✨

#masterlist #type: dividers

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sxorpiomooon · 9 months ago

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What should you dress like based on your rising sign.

hello!! If you guys want to you can also check for your venus sign for a more accurate description and lmk if you guys would want me to make a post with some clothes example!

check out my paid readings as well

Aries-

Athletic wear,edgy bold prints, leather, acubi aesthetic, cargos, lose shorts, formal, bold genderbending style. Y'all just wanna look cool😭

Colours- red, monochromatic.

Taurus -

Feminine clothes, net, maxi dresses, sweatpants, a lot of accessories, satin plain shirts, blazers jumpsuit y'all love smelling and looking rich and classy lmaaao

Colours- sage green, beige

Gemini-

Playful, I literally had a vision of jeans with dress and jersey with skirts, mix and match, two three aesthetics all at once, vibrant colours, Y2K, bratz, quirky accesories, glasses lmao I'm seeing so many tiktok videos in my head rn

Colours- neon, vibrant colours, splash or colours

Cancer-

Soft, coquette, loves pearls and carrying purses or cute wallets, cutely and ethereal at the same time, white colour

Colours- soft feminine colours such as sky blue, lavender etc

Leo-

Wants to stand out, flashy colours, gold jewellery, rings, bold colours, rock grunge might suit you guys

Colours- black, prints.

Virgo-

Formal,old money ralph lauren lmao, skirts, belts, floral skirts, forest fairy core? Cares alot about details and will always want to personalize the look somehow

Colours- green also you guys would look really good with basic jewellery

Libra-

Cute maxi dresses, clothes that have art on them, bunch of charms, alot of colours, ethereal jewellery and clothing, old channel vintage or clueless sort of clothing.

Colours- soft colours like baby blue, baby pink as well as lilac

Scorpio -

Bold cuts and colours and clothes and accessories, less accessories more eye makeup perhaps, bold fashion statements, might, v cut and boots. You guys might also look good while wearing only one colour instead of two three at the same time

Colours- wine red, maroon, velvet clothing

Saggitarius-

Eclectic, upbeat clothes, lose shirts, flamboyant, mix colours and different patterns at once it's like wearing different earrings on both ears.

Colours- yellow, orange

Capricorn -

Formal, elegant, old money, big handbags, old vintage watches I also heard Italy flea market for some reason so lmao

Colours- neutral tones

Aquarius -

Comfy, sweatpants, trousers, oversized, streetwear, patterned clothes might really care about good statement shoes, thrift, flamboyant clothing lmao

Colours- faded jeans and clothing, blue eyeshadow or blue colour in general honestly

Pisces-

Transparent, net, shiny, pastel shiny colours, chunky aesthetic jewellery, pendants, sunglasses, delicate, silver.

Colours- lavender, baby blue etc

Thankyouuu!!

#astrology #astrology notes #astrology observations #vedic astrology #free readings #askgames #astrology asks #exchange readings #exchange reading #tarot pac #clothing #astrologyt

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simsdaughters · 4 months ago

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GOTH LEGACY CHALLENGE

Making this for myself and any of you guys who wanna tag along to this little experiment with me!

The goal of this challenge is simple: get to 10 generations, with each one representing a different goth subculture and fashion, starting with the Goth family. I hope that through this, you guys can see the love I have for the goth culture :)

For extra drama: none of the Goths of the main family line may die of old age.

RULES PER GENERATION BELOW:

GEN 1: Aristocrat Goth

The founders of the Goth legacy, their aristocratic air lends credence to their importance. Drawing from historical periods such as the Victorian and Edwardian eras, this subgenre of goth fashion features tailor suits, cravats, waistcoats, corsets and hats.

Master the piano and violin skills.

Reach 500,000 simoleons in savings.

Master the business career.

Make enemies with at least one Landgraab.

GEN 2: Witchy Goth

Drawing inspiration from their parents' lifestyle and beliefs, Cassandra and Alexander adopt a more spiritual approach to the goth aesthetic. This fashion subgenre is characterized by esoteric and spiritual elements in the outfit, such as moons, stars, skulls and maybe black cats if you want to be on the nose with it, while the cultural approach to it is inspired mainly by, of course, witchcraft.

Become a spellcaster.

Master the medium skill.

Learn all potions.

Reach lvl 5 in the gemology skill.

GEN 3: Traditional Goth

The "original" goths, who find their roots in gothic rock born in the post-punk era, the traditional goths are what you first think of when you hear the word goth: ripped, black clothes, dark makeup and wild hair. As a punk offshoot, traditional goths prioritize self-expression, individuality and challenging traditions.

Join any artistic career, and reach lvl 5 in it.

Master the guitar skill.

Volunteer at least once a week.

Befriend any occult.

GEN 4: NU Goth

A slightly controversial subgenre in the goth culture, NU or "new" goth is a more modern approach to the goth genre. More lenient in their view of what "makes" a goth, they are known to be more welcoming to mall goths and baby bats than trad goths (though that does not mean traditional goths are hostile to the two, simply that there is a prominent debate in the goth scene on what consists "a true goth"). This fashion type is what you'd probably find on pinterest or tiktok, with the more current fashion trends influencing the style.

Sell at least 5 thrifted outfits.

Join the social media career.

Film fashion tutorials at least once a week. (Get Famous)

Have at least 500 followers on any social media.

GEN 5: Cyber Goth

The cybergoth subculture and fashion mixes industrial, 2000s and rave aesthetics in one, featuring leather, neon colors, futuristic looks and a love for electronic music. They embrace philosophical discussions and imaginations of a dystopic information society future.

Master the DJing skill.

Reach lvl 5 in the dancing skill.

Go clubbing at least once a week.

Master the programming or robotics skill.

GEN 6: Pastel Goth

Mixing the kawaii aesthetic with gothic ideals and themes, pastel goth makes it's mark by ... well, being pastel. Often seen dipping into lolita or fairy kei fashion, this style can accessorize with sometimes cutesy details. This style is more focused on the fashion and aesthetics of the gothic look rather than the music, and on having fun with their self-expression.

Have an all-pastel home !

Join the Style Influencer career.

Make 5 friends.

Thrift clothes at least once.

GEN 7: Romantic Goth

As expected, romantic goth subculture focuses on romanticizing death, the macabre and the dark. They find beauty and appreciation in things like withered roses, skulls and more. Their fashion is characterized by flowy, ethereal silhouettes, and a feminine touch to their outfits. Its the embrace of beauty.

Have a gothic wedding ceremony.

Master the writing skill.

Have a cemetery.

Romance a vampire at least once.

GEN 8: White Goth

The white goths reverse the traditionally dark and ... well, black palette of the gothic genre for white, and other such colors you shouldn't wear at a wedding. Their clothing taste often includes silks, ethereal garments, ornate jewelry and parasols.

Master the organ skill.

Master the painting skill.

Serenade someone at least once.

Wear white at a wedding.

GEN 9: Victorian Goth

The Victorian Goth subculture pays homage to the elegance and refinement of the 19th century. Their fashion sense borrows from the Victorian era, with silhouettes evocative of the era, top hats, lace and corsets. They mix the aesthetic of a bygone era with the ideologies of all goths, that of individualism and self-expression through art and fashion.

Do not own any electronics, lights included.

Master the writing skill.

Own at least one horse, and travel to lots with it.

Paint at least 20 paintings.

GEN 10: Vampire Goth

Inspired by vampire lore and horror, the vampire goth fashion scene includes elegant, intricate designs, corsets, capes, vampire fangs (real or otherwise) and bloody, macabre themes. Like the romantic goths, they find beauty and allure in the dead and the deadly, and would probably love owning a fainting couch.

Master the charisma skill.

Master the vampire lore skill.

Turn at least 5 sims into vampires.

Become a Master Vampire.

#What I'll be doing for the halloween season!#goth family legacy challenge #goth family legacy challenge rules #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 #out of story

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the-most-humble-blog · 23 days ago

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He-Man Tried to Trick Us: Skeletor Was Swole as F☰☰k Too

Let’s talk about the biggest lie our childhoods ever served us, right up there with Santa Claus and the tooth fairy: the idea that Skeletor wasn’t an absolute gym beast. For years, He-Man was out here flexing his pecs and shouting, “I HAVE THE POWER!” Meanwhile, Skeletor was lurking in Snake Mountain, shredded as hell, rocking a villain aesthetic that could easily grace the cover of Evil Bodybuilder Weekly.

But no, the show insisted on portraying Skeletor as some goofy cackling skeleton, as if we weren’t all noticing the dude’s traps were literally eating his hood.

1. Skeletor’s Swole Anatomy

First off, can we talk about Skeletor’s build?

Shoulders for Days: That man could shoulder-press Castle Grayskull if he wanted to.

Biceps of Doom: Look at his staff. That thing isn’t lightweight. You don’t carry a ram’s skull around unless your arm days are legit.

Abs Forever: You could wash laundry on that torso. No fat, no fluff, just pure skeletal gains.

2. The Double Standard: He-Man vs. Skeletor

Here’s the thing: He-Man got all the glory for being the “hero,” but let’s be real—Skeletor was out there putting in just as much work, if not more.

He-Man had the Sword of Power, literal magic doing half the heavy lifting.

Skeletor? Pure dedication. He didn’t need magical transformations—he stayed yoked year-round!

And let’s not forget Skeletor’s aesthetic: He rocked a purple and blue combo with confidence. You try walking into a gym looking like a neon villain and still commanding respect.

3. Skeletor: The Ultimate Gym Inspiration

Skeletor deserves credit where it’s due. He’s the ultimate testament to grinding through adversity:

No Skin, No Problem: Imagine lifting weights with exposed bone face. That’s some next-level grit.

Hated by Everyone: He didn’t need a cheering squad—just sheer spite and a refusal to let He-Man steal the spotlight.

Dedication to the Look: Even when losing, Skeletor never let himself go. Every episode? Still jacked, still fabulous.

Skeletor didn’t skip leg day. His quads were beyond what a mortal man could ever achieve...naturally. I'm talking to you, Man-At-Arms.

4. The Real Lesson from Skeletor

Here’s what He-Man didn’t want you to know:

You don’t need to win every battle to stay legendary.

Villains can be role models too—especially when they’re unapologetically themselves.

Sometimes the real “power” isn’t a sword or a catchphrase—it’s sticking to your gym routine, even when you’re surrounded by incompetent minions like Beast Man.

Stop Sleeping on Skeletor

It’s time we rewrite the narrative. Skeletor wasn’t just He-Man’s foil; he was the real MVP of muscle culture. Next time someone calls you “the bad guy,” just remember: villains can be swole as f--k too.

Love calling out childhood lies and dropping truth bombs? Follow The Most Humble Blog for more unapologetic takes and hilariously sharp observations.

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v1ctor1asecretangel · 3 months ago

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Totally Trippn'

peter maximoff x reader

song i recommend listening to: strange by galaxies 500

warnings: fluff fluff fluff! acid, got super sappy corny at the end.... and not proof read ya girl is way too tired for that

word count: 1.7k

notes: im sorry if this is not completely accurate to an acid trip, im just speaking from the little experience i have with psychedelics😞 im really not sure if i like this one. i might delete it

You and the famous speedster, Peter Maximoff, sit cross legged facing each other on the worn, threadbare rug in his dimly lit basement. The room is cluttered but uniquely his, with a mix of stolen street signs propped against the walls and posters of rock legends layered into collages. The faint glow from a neon sign stolen from a roadside diner casts shadows that gaze along the cracked walls.

“Alright, babe, three…” Peter’s voice, usually so quick and teasing, carries a slight tremor of anticipation. His silver hair gleams dully in the low light, catching the glint of an old string of fairy lights that dangle from the ceiling. He licks his lips, hesitating slightly, eyes darting to meet yours with a knowing smile before he continues. “Two…”

A hush falls over the room, a heartbeat of suspense that seems to echo in the narrow space between you.

“One.”

On one, you both squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Your hands tremble slightly as you bring the small, bitter squared tab to your tongue, feeling the smooth surface dissolve almost immediately.

You open your eyes hesitantly, blinking as the dim light of the basement seems sharper, almost electric. The scattered glow from the neon sign throws soft, jagged reflections across Peter’s face, highlighting the nervous curve of his lips. The room feels like it’s holding its breath.

“Do you feel anything?” you ask, the skepticism in your voice cutting through the silence. Your pulse quickens as you glance around, waiting for something, anything, to change.

Peter shifts, running a hand through his silver hair, which falls messily over his forehead. His eyes dart from the stolen street signs to the peeling posters, as if searching for a sign of the drug’s effect. A muscle in his jaw tightens, and he chuckles dryly.

“No, Babe. Psshhhh image if we got scammed.” His voice carries a playful edge, but you can sense the underlying disappointment in his tone. He leans back, one hand drumming an impatient beat on the floor, while the other toys with a loose thread on his dark jeans.

“Hey, listen, in my defense, I told you not to buy it from that sketchy guy. I mean, who knows where he even got it? For all we know, it could be paper,” you say, half joking and raising your eyebrows for emphasis. The words hang in the musty air, mingling with the faint buzz of "wave of mutilation" by The Pixies coming from the radio crackling in the corner from the local station.

Peter’s head snaps up from where he’s been staring at his lap. His eyes, sharp and narrow with playful accusation. “Oh, and whose bright idea was it in the first place to try it?” He grins, that crooked, mischievous smile that always means trouble.

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a grin of your own. “Everyone’s doing acid, Peter! It’s like… totes all the rage,” you say, emphasizing your words with an exaggerated wave of your hands. The neon sign behind Peter flickers, casting a glow once again on his silver hair and making the room feel like a scene straight out of an underground music video you would see on MTV.

He scoffs, shifting his weight as he leans back onto his hands. “Yeah, well, next time we’re buying from someone who doesn’t look like they crawled out of a dumpster behind the arcade,” he mutters, a laugh bubbling up between the two of you.

It’s been about 20 minutes, the room now filled with a palpable energy as the two of you drifted into your own rhythms. The time had been filled with you spinning around in worn socks on soft carpet, dancing to some retro tune blasting from Peter’s most likely stolen record player. The vinyl spun smoothly. The needle crackling every so often with the imperfections that made it sound warmer, more alive.

Meanwhile, Peter stood hunched over his.....also stolen....... arcade machine, fingers flying over the joystick and buttons with practiced ease. The glow from the Pac-Man screen bathed his face in blues and yellows, making his silver hair shimmer like quicksilver. The chiming 8-bit sound effects mixed with the thumping beat of the record, creating an oddly perfect symphony of chaos.

Peter let out a triumphant whoop as the little pixelated Pac-Man devoured another ghost, his laughter adding to the cacophony of the room.

You come up behind him, your arms sliding around his waist as you press your cheek against the back of his t shirt, the fabric rough but comforting. “Winning, Mr. Maximoff?” you ask, your voice slurring slightly as a lazy smile spreads across your face. The room pulses to the beat of the song still blaring from the record player rattles the dusty trinkets on the shelves.

“As always, babe,” he replies, the cocky lilt in his voice unmistakable. With a quick, fluid movement, he spins around to face you, his hands finding their place on your hips, fingers gripping just enough to steady you. His grin is wide and playful, eyes glinting with that signature spark that made him seem larger than life.

The neon light in the corner casts a pinkish glow over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw. But as you stare into those eyes, eyes that seem to dance with adrenaline you realize the world behind him is beginning to tilt and swirl, the edges of your vision rippling like water.

“Peter… I don’t think we got scammed,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with awe and the first shiver of realization. The room shimmers around you, the posters on the wall seeming to shift and breathe, their colors deepening to a surreal vibrancy.

Peter’s grin widens as he registers your words, a flash of excitement lighting up his face. The world around you is no longer static the posters and neon signs seem to pulse in time with the music, their colours bleeding and shifting in a mesmerizing display.

“Then let’s make it count,” he says, eyes gleaming as he pulls you closer. Without waiting for a response, he spins you into the open space of his basement. Your heart races, the beat syncing with the song as you twirl. The colors in the room seem to merge into streaks of electric blue, hot pink, and bright yellow, trailing behind you both..

Peter’s silver hair glows like liquid metal under the shifting light, and his laughter echoes, rich and contagious. He moves with an easy, confident rhythm, stepping side to side and dipping you back with dramatic flair, only to pull you upright again. You can’t help but laugh, a sound that bubbles up and escapes your lips like it’s been caught in a loop.

The walls appear to ripple, the posters of rock legends winking at you as if they, too, are in on the joke. The stolen street signs seem to sway, letters twisting into words that make no sense but make you giggle nonetheless. Peter’s hands grip yours as he spins you out, and when he pulls you back, your eyes meet his. The room seems to blur at the edges, but his eyes are sharp and focused, grounding you even as everything else drifts away.

“You’re totally trippin’ now, aren’t ya?” Peter teases, his voice a blend of cockiness and joy, eyes bright and wild.

“Yeah,” you reply, breathless and beaming. The room feels endless, like you’re spinning in a neon-lit galaxy, and Peter’s laughter is the only sound that keeps you tethered to this moment. The song builds, crescendoing in a flurry of synthesized chords, and you both move in a synchronized, reckless dance, your bodies swaying and weaving through the rainbow blur that’s become the room.

Each step feels weightless and each spin eternal. The world outside fades to nothing, leaving only you, Peter, and the music.

You and Peter tumble over to his bed, laughter bursting from you both as you land in a playful heap. The mattress dips under your weight, enveloping you in its warmth as you lie back, arms stretched out in a starfish position, fingers intertwined. As you look up at the ceiling, you’re surrounded by a kaleidoscope of colours. Posters of bands, movie icons, and neon signs all looking for your attention, illuminated by twinkling fairy lights that dance like stars.

At the peak of your trip, the room feels alive, everything around you swirling in a vibrant, twirly motion. “Whoa, this is, like, totally rad!” you exclaim, your voice laced with exhilaration. “It’s like we’re floating through space or something!”

Peter turns his head, his silver hair catching the light in a halo. ��For real, babe! It’s like we’re in a dream, and all this is just for us,” he replies, his grin infectious, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re like my ultimate cosmic companion!”

You chuckle, your heart swelling with affection. “And you’re the best thing since cassette tapes, Peter! I can’t even fathom how lucky I am to be here with you. You make everything feel, like, way more alive!” The warmth of his hand in yours anchors you, grounding you in this moment.

Peter’s playful demeanor shifts, his gaze softening as he leans a little closer. “You have no idea how much you mean to me. You’re my ride-or-die, my partner in this life,” he says, his voice earnest. “With you, I feel like I can take on the whole world, like I’m unstoppable.”

You gaze into his eyes, feeling the sincerity behind his words wash over you like a wave. “Promise me we’ll always stick together, no matter what craziness life throws at us,” you say, vulnerability creeping into your tone. “You’re my heart, Peter.”

“Always, babe,” he replies, his voice steady, the connection between you palpable. “We’re a team, like the best duo ever. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”

As he inches closer, the vibrant colors of the room seem to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you suspended in this moment. Your heart races as the air between you thickens with anticipation. In a heartbeat, you lean in, and your lips meet in a soft kiss.

The kiss deepens, igniting a spark that flows throughout your entire being. Time stands still, and the world around you disappears, leaving only the warmth of his lips and the bond of love that binds you together.

#evan peters #evan peters x reader #peter maximoff #evan peters fluff #evan peters oneshot #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x y/n #x men days of future past #x men dark phoenix #x men apocalypse #x men #evan peters x y/n

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butchfairyzine · 7 months ago

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Artist spotlight- City Fairies: Brit and Finchie! 🌆

"Brit is honored and excited to work with so many incredible artists to hopefully bring viewers something that will rock their socks off while simultaneously having their own socks rocked as well!" Brit can be found at @bribinart

"Finchie is a femme lesbian artist and merch designer. Previous projects include Neon Hemlock Press, The Story Engine, and Classics But Make It Gay. Despite the name, she doesn't know much about birds." Finchie can be found at @rosefinchie

Stay tuned for more updates about our artists and writers , we have some more amazing talents to show you all. Zine kickstarter will be in July.

#rosefinchie #bribinart #artist spotlight #butchfairyzine #butch fairy zine #fey zine

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pascalpvnk · 1 year ago

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Pour Choices // You & I

pairing: bartender!joel x f!afab!reader

summary: Austin, Texas was never a dream destination for you, however your work trip there might’ve changed your perspective of the Lone Star State, and it absolutely was not work related.

word count: 6.6k words (oops…)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, smut (dubcon [both drank alcohol], handjob if you squint, oral [f receiving], fingering, unprotected p in v sex [wrap it up!], Joel has had a vasectomy, premature ejaculation, double creampie, alluding to aftercare), possibly ooc, no outbreak AU, Joel is 36 with no specified age for reader, reader described as a woman, use of she/her pronouns, minor body descriptions (reader described as having curves, reader has hair long enough to grasp/pin up, reader is shorter than Joel, he picks up reader for like half a second), time jumping (indicated by solid orange divider), religious euphemisms (?) from Joel (i know that man has religious trauma), alcohol consumption, food consumption

a/n: hello! I know this is a long time coming but she’s finally here. thank you for being patient with me during this writing process and thank you to those who helped and encouraged me! a special thanks to @delicaatefl0vver for beta reading and supporting and adding to my thots. welcome to the rebirth of my fanfic writing. I hope you enjoy xx (dividers by @/saradika)

main masterlist | series masterlist

Sat in the corner of the rustling bar, you were sipping on your Manhattan. The drink tasted medicinal, not how you’d usually prefer it. You had watched the young bartender pour heavy on the vermouth, but chose not to say anything. Red lipstick stained the rim of your glass with each sip of the cocktail. The whiskey mixed in and the maraschino cherry garnish were its only saving graces.

A low hanging light illuminated a warm hue across your features. You were surrounded by classic Texan bar decor and architecture; high ceiling rafters, support beams strung with fairy lights, the walls packed with framed posters of all varieties, the occasional beer branded neon sign, and license plates tacked up behind the bar. Two televisions sat flush against opposing walls, both playing a pregame show of Rangers highlights as they counted down to first pitch. The air was thick as the feet of the patrons shuffled around and chair legs scraped against the wood finished floors. Groups of friends, couples, and everyone between flooded through the doors, ushering themselves to an empty table or stool at the bar. Being there on a Friday night right as the outside rush hour died down was a bold choice, but you had one goal in mind.

The moment the music changed from country to rock and roll, you knew it was time to set yourself out to accomplish it.

The click of your high heels contrasted from the stomp of sneakers and cowboy boots. Glass in hand and head held high, your heart was pounding so hard in your chest, you felt it in your throat. You sure as hell weren’t living up to your stoic, stone cold hearted reputation back home. It’s almost as though your heart thawed in the Texas heat. Though your heart changed with the state, your attire didn’t. You stuck out like a sore thumb among the other consumers in your black maxi dress and perfectly pinned up hair. Some eyes gazed towards you, but you were set on finding one pair in particular. The set of eyes that were darker than the coffee he brewed, but the same ones that looked like honey when the sun was setting. The eyes that were facing away from you at the bar as you found a stool. The ones that snapped up towards you with one word.

“Texas.”

You called for him like a melody. Your throat immediately felt dry as a lump formed. He either felt the same way you did or it was a one off fling. You were hoping it was the former. But…it had been two years since you met, so there was a decent chance he was the one that got away.

The way his muscles tensed under his tight Henley gave away that he recognized you simply from your voice. Those beautiful eyes met yours, and his jaw went a little slack, the corners of his mouth curved.

“Evenin’, Miss New York,” Joel drawled, leaning against the counter. “How are ya, darlin’?”

Joel’s mind was preoccupied before he had seen you the first time, filled with important nonsense that about drove him up the wall.

Gotta make the next schedule. What time is that birthday party Sarah wants t’go to? Wonder if Tommy would be willin’ to take her. No, he’s workin’ on a job site out of town. I need to find someone to cover part of my shift so I can take her. Gotta pay the rent for this month. Can’t keep running the bar if s’gonna be slow like this and that bastard won’t cough up his half of it. God dammit.

“Welcome in, what can I get for ya?” The southern man drawled absentmindedly, tossing a rag over his broad shoulder. The moment his eyes caught yours, his worries washed away. He was only interested in you and your big, beautiful eyes and bright, red lips.

“Whiskey on the rocks. Make it a double please,” you practically sang to him…or at least it sounded like music to his ears. Your ID slipped out of your billfold with ease, and you slid it across the bar as you took a seat. Joel examined the horizontally wide piece of plastic, deciding it was real, especially for a lady ordering a whiskey. A lady from New York, no less.

Joel took in your features for a moment, noticing the difference in your attire and even your accent compared to the other bar patrons. Your beauty was striking to him, making all of the women he’s seen come in flee his memory. He repeated your name over and over in his head, wanting to know how it felt on his tongue. To say he was intrigued would be the understatement of the year.

“You got it, sweetheart,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. He poured a generous portion of whiskey into a cut crystal glass and added several cubes of ice, then slid it over to you with a smile. He leaned forward to rest his arms on the bar, eyes lingering on your curves. "So, what brings you in here tonight? The Big Apple too small for ya?"

“Work,” you responded simply, taking a sip from your drink. He watched as your eyes raked down his frame. There was no visible emotion behind them, so he was unsure if you were checking him out or simply giving him a once over.

Joel’s eyes on the other hand drank in your features, not even attempting to hide his gaze. It lingered across your chest and the way your dress contoured your breasts so perfectly. He was damn near drooling at the sight of you taking down your whiskey better than he would. Your face remained expressionless, zero signs of your mouth twisting in distaste. The simple action had him hooked.

He cleared his throat and began polishing some glasses as he continued to have small talk with you.

“Care to elaborate?” He asked, lining the cups along the bar as he shined them one by one.

“Flight just landed. I checked into my hotel and dropped off my stuff. Wanted to take a walk around to see what this city has to offer and I landed here,” you shrugged, taking another drink of your whiskey. “Nice place, are you the owner?”

“Co-owner, yeah,” Joel chuckled. “So I take it, your work stuff starts tomorrow? Or are you drinking on the job?”

“The former,” you smiled softly. “I’m not trying to get fired, they barely trusted me to come out here in the first place.”

His head nodded gingerly. He couldn’t quite tell if you were shooting him down or just quiet after a long day. He wanted to know more. Wanted as much information that he could get from you without coming off as a creep. Deciding to take a minor risk, he continued conversing with you.

“What kind of work are ya doing all the way out here, hm?” He asked politely, restocking the freshly polished glasses back on their designated shelves.

“My uh…my peer, I suppose, is on maternity leave and she represents most of our buildings in Texas. I’ve been doing most of the work over the phone but one of the Austin buildings required a visit. A lot of incident reports to go through.”

The whiskey in your glass was almost gone and he could tell it was opening you up a little bit. First time in the whole conversation you said more than what his question asked for.

“Darlin’, that’s some big wig stuff, and yet you make it sound so inconspicuous,” he drawled, a low rumble of laughter rolling from his chest. “What field are you in? Or is it top secret?”

“Oh! I work in HR,” you let out a small laugh. “Probably should’ve started with that.”

He smirked at how you fumbled over yourself, admiring the way your smile folded the skin around your eyes and exposed a dimple. He could definitely tell he was breaking down your stone wall. His eyes took you in once more. Your lip prints stained red on the once clean glass, immediately grabbing his attention. Arousal shot through his body, directing into his pants. That’s not something he knew he was attracted to.

“Need another, ma’am?” He asked politely and swallowed hard, attempting to look anywhere but your chest. You accepted his offer and opened a tab. Joel was thanking his lucky stars that the universe brought such a beautiful woman into his bar that night. Thanking fate for having him cover this shift.

“Well, I’ll leave you alone, miss. Just holler if you need another drink or y’wanna close out. My name’s Joel,” he smiled with his boyish charm, flipping his towel back over his shoulder before reluctantly diverting his attention to another customer in need.

You stuck around for a bit, snacking on peanuts and watching the baseball game running on the television. Joel felt your eyes burn into the back of his head as he worked.

It was innocent to start. He popped tops off of beers, poured shots, and shook cocktails all while his cheeks burned pink under the heat of your gaze. Then he intentionally reached up to the top shelf more often, flexing his muscles and letting his shirt ride up his back to grab your attention again and again. It became increasingly difficult for you to peel your eyes off of him the more you drank.

And he noticed.

A couple hours passed, and before you knew it, the clock was nearing midnight. Joel walked around the bar, going to each empty table and wiping them thoroughly. He restocked everything as most of the small crowd filed out. He took a look at you from the front door, admiring the curves that were hardly hidden under your snug dress as you watched the TV mindlessly.

“Well darlin’,” he began as he approached the bar again. “I don’t know what time you have to work in the morning but it’s getting late. Wanna close out your tab?”

“I s’pose so,” you chuckled, copying his accent a little by accident. Your tired, drunken smile made his heart flutter.

A small smile plastered itself across Joel’s face as he ran your card. He let it process, grabbing both receipts and scribbling something on them.

“Can I call you a cab, sweetheart? They aren’t driving around all the time like they do back home for you,” he offered, handing you the merchant copy receipt. He crossed out all of the options to tip, just requiring your signature. You tried to protest, but he silenced your argument.

“Yeah,” you hiccuped. “That would be nice, thank you.”

Joel examined you cleaning up your peanut shell debris as he called for the cab. You signed the receipt, and slid his copy back across the bar. He noticed your subtle smile as you noticed ten digits written neatly on the customer copy.

The line went dead when the conversation concluded, and Joel put the phone back on its charger. He noticed how you folded the receipt paper and tucked it safely into your clutch along with your debit card.

“Cab should be here in ‘bout ten minutes. Um,” he cleared his throat. “If ya need someone to recommend restaurants or if you want a tour of any sort, I hope that’ll come in handy.”

Joel gestured towards your clutch, the current home of his phone number. He wanted to ask you out, so so badly, but you were intoxicated and he didn’t want to give a bad impression. If it was meant to be, you’d take the initiative, at least that’s what he told himself.

“I bet it will,” you openly flirted. Joel knew better than to return the sentiment, but it was so damn difficult. His mama would’ve smacked him upside the head if he had, and that was enough to stop him. All he offered was a smirk before turning away and gathering dishes to be brought back to the pile of other used utensils.

“D’ya need a water or anything?” Joel asked, already reaching for a clean cup. You nodded and he filled the glass first with ice, followed with water and a straw. Laying a napkin on the counter, Joel gently set your water down with a close lipped smile.

“Thanks for stopping in, darlin’,” he said just loud enough to be heard over the rock music he had playing. “Get back to that hotel of yours safely, alright? Don’t wanna hear about Miss New York on the news. They never show anything positive nowadays.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” you chuckled, gathering your things to leave after drinking most of the glass. He took these moments to really take you in, dramatically telling himself that this could be the last time he’d ever see you. Last time he’d witness your cherry stained, stunning, yet intoxicated smile, your soft skin, and those gorgeous eyes.

His admiration was interrupted by the honk erupting from the impatient taxi driver’s vehicle outside. You turned on your heel, offering a ‘goodnight, Texas!’ before walking out the door. Joel scrubbed a hand across his beard, huffing a self deprecating laugh and a muttered ‘shit’ before continuing to close up shop. He beat himself up internally while cleaning the dishes until his phone buzzed. He dug the device from his pocket, flipping it open to see a text from an unknown number.

“Didn’t end up on the news. What a bummer! Maybe next time ;)”

Joel smiled to himself, tucking his phone back into his pocket. He finished his closing tasks and made a little to-go Shirley Temple mocktail for his daughter. Before exiting the building for the night, he turned off the glowing ‘Pour Choices’ sign and locked the door behind him. His smile faded as he left his bar behind, remembering his life’s reality and his responsibilities. Those stressors sat heavy once more upon his shoulders until he fell into a deep slumber that night.

Your first full day of work was exhausting to say the least, and the small hangover you suffered did not help one bit. And whoever decided you should come to Austin in August had become your own mortal enemy. You’re used to your mild summers back home, not sweating so much that your clothes stick to you uncomfortably. But the thing that bothered you the most was the imminent, distracting thought of Joel, especially as the sun retired behind the horizon. The way the fabric of his shirt pulled taut around his thick biceps and how they flexed every time he mixed up drinks. You had watched him use his charm to get tips practically thrown at him by the other patrons, he really put that handsome grin to work.

You were alone in your hotel. There wasn’t a scheduled dinner with your team, so you sat in bed watching Scrubs reruns and eating what constituted your dinner: cheese, crackers and pepperoni slices you picked up from the grocery store. A little disassembled charcuterie board if you will.

Beckoning your attention, your phone buzzed against your nightstand. The caller ID had your heart pounding against your chest. Joel. It was almost like he could read your mind.

“Hello?” You started, wiping the crumbs off of your fingers and lowering the volume on the show.

“Evenin’,” he drawled out your name. His voice came across gruffer and frankly hotter over the phone than in person. The way it fed directly into your ears had a chill running down your spine.

“Night off?” You asked nonchalantly, a sad attempt of remaining mysterious, knowing if he was sat next to you, you’d melt into a puddle.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pausing for a moment and chuckling quietly. “Sorry for callin’ late. I’d text but that would’a taken me a decade. How was today? Hope that whiskey didn’t ruin your morning.”

The smile you sported grew in size. It felt nice having a normal conversation that wasn’t work related…even if it was with someone you just met.

“It was good! Busy but good. I had a headache but nothing I couldn’t handle. It’s stupid hot here though, didn’t appreciate that,” you hummed to yourself in thought. “Nothing much happened, lots of meetings. Now I’m just hanging out in my hotel. How about you?”

“Same here, nothin’ much. Are ya doing anythin’ or just wallowin’ in your loneliness?” He teased, testing the waters a little. You wish you could see his face. See whether he was sporting a shit eating grin or if he was gnawing on his lip nervously.

“Ha-ha,” you shot back, pressing your cell between your cheek and shoulder to stand up and settle near the window. “I’m watching TV and eating my nutritious dinner of cheese, crackers and pepperoni, thank you very much.”

“Dinner?” He scoffed. “Now I think you need'ta hustle on over here and have a real meal. You can’t possibly be callin’ all ‘f those HR shots with that diet, hm?”

You gotta give it to him, you aren’t that smooth on a whim, that takes practice. Looking out at the Austin skyline, you snickered to yourself and leaned against the window’s frame.

“C’mon, I have almost all of my food groups in front of me, I don’t think that’s too horrible,” you retaliated jokingly. “What do you have to offer, huh?”

“Well you got me there, darlin’. I do have wine if you wanna round out your meal,” he offered. You could hear faint tapping coming from the line. He was nervous.

Considering the proposal, you decided to take it, despite your early morning and full day approaching. Joel offered to pick you up so you didn’t have to pay for another cab and you gratefully accepted. You quickly got changed back out of your sleepwear into something almost equally as comfy and perhaps a bit more revealing.

So you find yourself sat on Joel Miller’s couch. The ride was fine, you chatted like before, but with a bit more direct flirting. You observed his spaces. His truck was simple, a little, beat up pickup, but you were sure it got his work done. There were scuff marks from tennis shoes on his dash. Your mind wandered as you imagined if they were from a friend or former lover, but you didn’t let it bother you.

There was a little pine tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. The smell of its woody scent combined with his warm, leathery cologne and a hint of Irish Spring all flooded your senses. And god, he didn’t just smell good, he looked so good.

Joel looked perfect in the driver’s seat, his biceps straining against his smooth skin as he gripped the wheel, prominent veins popping through his forearms. Looked so cozy in his small kitchen, pouring both of you a hefty glass of rosé. His hands enveloped his cup entirely as he brought it to his plush lips. The way they framed his teeth when he smiled down at you gave you heart palpitations.

And even sitting comfortably in the corner of his L-shaped couch, Joel continued to look amazing. His leg was crossed over the other, creating the perfect shelf on his knee for his wine. Those arms stretched far across the back of the couch as he fidgeted with a loose string stuck on the cushion. Everything about him screamed disciplined. The way his spaces were mostly neat, organized and decently decorated added to your observation. He belonged here, and it seemed like he worked hard to get the things he earned.

The casual facade you had faded away the longer you chatted about your lives and sipped on your glasses. Topics like work and hobbies came into conversation, and you learned that Joel liked to play with guitar and sing a little—only when he was alone of course. Then you began talking about more personal matters, like your relationship statuses.

“You’re kidding!” You exclaimed, feeling warm from the wine in your system. “You don’t have a girlfriend or anything?”

Joel chuckled and shook his head down at the couch. You watched as he observed the cushions-worth of space between you two. By that point, you were fully turned ninety degrees to face him in conversation, your legs tucked comfortably under you. Your face felt hot as you wielded the half empty, stemless wine glass.

“What about the kid in your pictures? Is she your niece or something?” You were referring to the framed photos both nailed to the wall and decorating the table in his entryway. Most of them contained himself and the child, whether she was celebrating with a soccer ball and a trophy or blowing out candles on a cake, her wild curls spilling every which way from her party hat.

“Nah, she’s all mine. My Sarah turned fourteen a few weeks ago,” he smiled to himself, making your heart clench and pound against the confines of your ribcage. The proud look he had on his face told you about everything you needed to know about his relationship with his daughter.

“Fourteen? You don’t seem old enough to have a teenager,” you chuckle. “Where is she tonight? Seems like you got the house to yourself.”

“Why I'm flattered. She’s got a friend’s birthday party sleepover thing. That’s why I had to take the night off. I’m her personal chauffeur, of course,” Joel offered a curtsey jokingly.

Your smile widened as you brought your now second glass of rosé up to sip once more. You don’t care to ask about Sarah’s mother, it was a personal matter and possibly a sensitive subject.

A comfortable silence fell between you as you looked at one another. You watched the automatic rise and fall of his chest and the way his cheeks burned from your gaze. His chocolate eyes bore into yours, melting your heart without even trying. His exterior was gruff and masculine but he had proven time and time again that he was probably one of the kindest men you have met. Must be that southern charm and hospitality, but man was it addicting.

“What?” He barely asked above a whisper, copying your actions with his wine. His attempt to hide his smile behind his clear cup obviously failed. His blush spread down his neck and you could only imagine if it went any farther down. Your thoughts of Joel were beginning to become tainted by your blooming arousal. You wanted him. On top of you, under you, you’d take anything and the growing wetness pooling in your panties was evidence of that.

“Can I be blunt, Joel?” You grinned as you sunk a bit further into the cushion against your side. He responded with a hummed ‘mhm’ so you’d continue, bringing his hand back into his lap. The fabric of his joggers barely contained his strong thighs, making it more and more difficult to contain your urge to see what else lied beneath his pants.

“I really wanna kiss you,” you admitted cheekily, fairly certain that he was thinking the same thing.

“Oh, do ya now?” He smirked, leaning over to pluck your glass from your grasp and put it safely on his coffee table along with his own.

“I think you’re a little mind reader,” Joel continued. “‘Cause I was thinkin’ the same thing. Bet those pretty lips are real soft.” His hand found your waist after you confirmed he had consent as he guided you onto his lap. You hummed contently as you draped your arms over his shoulders, toying with the stray, chestnut curls at his nape.

“What happened to Mr. Shy Guy, huh?” You teased, letting his calloused hands explore the expanse of your back as your lips ghosted over his.

“Not shy, just polite, sweetheart,” he rasped before closing the gap between you two. His palms were flush against your lower back, radiating heat through the thin material of your shirt.

You melted into him, bodies pressed as close as possible without your knees sinking between the couch cushions. Lips slotted together and hands wandered as you filled all of your senses with Joel. His tongue was stained with a familiar smoky taste, which was definitely not coming from the wine

“Why do you taste like whiskey?” Your mouth formed a smile against his matching one. His hand cupped your cheek as a chuckle rumbled deep in his chest.

“Had some before I called ya,” he admitted bashfully. “Doesn’t matter now.”

In an instant, he was kissing you once more with increased passion, making you completely forgo the subject. His tongue flicked into your mouth, teasing the delicate skin on the inside of your lips. He gripped at your hips, trying to pull you closer to him but your legs protested against his furniture.

“Scoot forward,” you mumbled against him. And he did what he was told. His hips shifted forward, granting you more room to sit directly on his lap. Sighs were drawn from both of you as you settled back into each other, his cock already half hard under you. Your fingers messed with the hair behind his ears, earning a pleased moan from him.

“This doesn’t have to go anywhere if you don’t wan’ it to,” he panted between kisses. Just above a whisper, you uttered, ‘I want it,’ and Joel’s hands took it as permission to explore further down your body, palming at your ass through your shorts.

A whimper slipped between your lips into Joel’s, and he swallowed it whole. He pressed your body closer to his, your clothed sex dragging over his sweatpants. His cock twitched up in response to your mouth finding his jaw, his short beard scratching against you.

“Lemme take care of you,” you mused, bringing your hands up the sides of his face. He relaxed back into the couch, his blunt nails pushing under your shorts into the meat of your bare thighs.

You started by kissing his lips once more, then the two prominent patches of missing hair on his chin, and made your way down to his throat. His adam's apple bobbed under your touch as pants grew tighter on him.

“Knew you’d have the best lips, fuck,” he mumbled as you licked up the side of his neck, his pulse racing under your tongue. “Can’t wait to feel your pretty pussy ‘round my cock, sweetheart.”

“Patience, handsome,” you whispered into his ear, your breath sending chills through his body. He let go of your legs as you bunched his shirt into your palms, sitting up to help remove it. Hair scattered sparsely on his chest, pausing on his upper stomach only to come back thicker as it disappeared into his boxers.

Your palms dragged down his torso, skimming over his nipples and ribs as he naturally recoiled from the stimulation. You gently kissed and sucked at his collarbone so it could be hidden away under his shirt. Color rose to the surface of his skin the more you worked at it, flattening your tongue against it once you decided your mark was left properly.

Joel was breathing heavily under you, his hands snaking under your shirt to your breasts. Your nipples were already pebbled through your bralette, becoming unbearably hard the moment Joel started running his thumbs over them. He gently pushed your shirt and bra above your tits, leaning forward to bring one to his mouth as his hand toyed with the other. His tongue lapped your skin, rounding the hardened nipple and sucking it back slightly. An image of him doing the same to your clit had your eyes rolling back with pleasure.

“Joel,” you mewled as he switched breasts. He spread his saliva around your areola as he picked up his ministrations on the other. A groan vibrated against your skin as your nails raked down his happy trail.

“Wanna suck your cock,” you continued, holding onto the waistbands of his pants and underwear. His unused hand covered yours entirely, pushing it down to free his throbbing cock from its confines, the tip weeping with precum. Never in your life had you seen a dick so big before, and you couldn’t wait for it to split you in half.

“I won’t last a minute in your mouth, sweet girl,” he drawled, reaching back up to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. “Don’t wanna come before you.”

Spitting onto your fingertips, you mixed it with the slick seeping from his tip then dragged it down his shaft, squeezing it in your palm on the way back up. Joel groaned into your neck. He wedged his hands back under your top, lifting it over your head and forcing your hand to leave his cock.

“Need’ta taste you first,” he muttered, his amber irises completely eclipsed by his pupils. Joel removed you from his lap and laid you down onto the couch. You watched as he settled between your legs and hooked his thick fingers into your bottoms, licking his lips. Raising your hips, he pulled everything off of you, leaving you bare. Cool air hit your glistening pussy, sending a shiver up your spine. You whined out his name after he stared at you for a moment.

“What?” He cooed, smoothing his hands over your inner thighs. “Wan’ me to touch ya, hm? Fuck you with my fingers ‘n stretch that pretty pussy out? Maybe suck on your clit. S’that what you want, darlin’?”

You nod your head furiously, dying with anticipation to have his hands, mouth, something on you. Wordlessly, your foot hooked around the back of his leg as you attempted to pull him closer to you.

“Ah ah,” he tsked. “I think ya gotta ask for it, honey. Ask for it nicely.”

“Fuck,” you whined with desperation. You could feel your arousal dripping down your ass and ultimately onto the couch. “Please fill me up, touch me, taste me, whatever you want.”

“Good, so good f’me. Open up,” he encouraged, slotting his first two digits between your lips. He spread them on each side of your tongue. Saliva collected on his thick fingers as you swirled your tongue around them in figure eights. A groan rumbled in Joel’s chest.

“Yeah I’m gonna put my cock in this pretty mouth next time, baby. Feels perfect on my fingers,” he grumbled. His fingers came out of your mouth with a pop, a string of spit connecting him to you.

Joel finally slipped his fingers through your swollen folds, teasing your entrance and collecting more slick. His fingertips circled lightly around your clit, drawing a broken moan from your throat. His free hand tapped against your hip, signaling you to raise them with an ‘up.’ He grabbed a throw pillow and positioned it under you. You relaxed your already trembling legs, and he had barely even touched you.

He settled onto his stomach, spreading your legs apart as far as they’d go. A pointer finger breached your entrance as he kissed the seam where your thigh and pussy came together. Soft moans escaped you as you carded your fingers through his curls. His smug eyes met yours as his tongue moved everywhere but your clit. He looked better than ever between your legs, and you didn’t know that could be possible. His teasing was deserved for what you were doing previously, but it was agonizing.

“Please, Joel,” you groaned. “Please gimme more, I need you.”

Obliging to your request, Joel added another finger into your cunt, curling them both and stroking your g-spot expertly. All of the air left your lungs the moment his flattened tongue finally found your clit. Joel’s groan vibrated throughout your entire pussy, adding to each sensation deliciously. It didn’t take much more for your legs to start shaking and squeezing his head between your thighs, a hot sensation bubbling in your lower belly.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, don’t stop,” you cried, grasping Joel’s hair much tighter than before. He suckled your clit and flicked his tongue over it with a moan, sending you flying over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his fingers and he rode you through your high. He kissed your trembling thighs until they relaxed, his unmoving fingers still stuffed inside you.

“God, you’re even sexier when you come, sugar. Taste even sweeter too,” he hummed, shifting himself up your body until his lips found yours again. He tasted still of whiskey but with a mix of your arousal.

Joel brought his now soaked fingers back into your mouth to replace his tongue, urging you to suck all of your spend off of them. You hummed around his digits and wrapped your quivering legs around his waist.

“And you were preachin’ to me about patience,” he teased, removing his fingers and stroking his cock a couple times. He was sitting up and resting on his heels, looking like pure sex. His proportions were perfect, he was broad and you’d happily let him crush you under his weight.

“It’s hard to be patient when you look at me like that,” you muse, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Joel snickered quietly, dragging his nails over your inner thighs. Goosebumps followed behind his light touch and your legs twitched when he got close enough to your sensitive core.

“So,” Joel began, settling comfortably on top of you and kissing your jaw. “I haven’t been with anyone since I was tested last n’ I’ve had a vasectomy. But I’ll gladly get a condom if ya want me to.”

“Hmm, a gentleman,” you grinned, your fingers finding their way back into his hair as you enjoyed his affection. “I’m clean and more than okay without it.”

Joel slotted his cock into your slit with a smirk, groaning at the new sensation. His tip nudged at your clit with each pass, earning moans from both parties.

“Almost came all over this couch with you clenchin’ ‘round my fingers like that, honey,” he drawled. “Fuck, ‘m not gonna last long.”

You gave him a reassuring kiss as you wedged your hand down between you two. Lining up his tip with your entrance, you watched as he disappeared into your welcoming cunt. His face pressed into your neck as he slowly sank into you, anchoring himself with his hands planted on your waist and thigh. Strings of profanities left him as he stretched you out, the pressure you felt quickly morphing into pleasure.

“Shit,” you hissed when he bottomed out. “Feels so good, Joel.”

You urged him to continue, and he complied. Starting slow, he pulled out halfway and pushed back in to test the waters. The drag of your core had his toes curling. He wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t last long. His cock swelled in you after a few minutes as he panted into your neck.

“Fuck, fuck I’m sorry,” he grunted.

“S’okay, come for me, Joel. Please,” you consoled him, wrapping your legs around his hips tighter. He spilled into you, the sticky fluid coating your inner walls. Your nails dragged along the expanse of his back as he caught his breath.

His face emerged from the crook of your neck, flush and sweaty. He tried apologizing once more but you shushed him. Your lips met again as you grasped his dampened curls, pulling at his locks harder than before. Cock stiffening up again, Joel resumed thrusting into you slowly. A squelching sound emitted from your pussy as his pace quickened.

“Joel,” you gasped, tangling yourself around him tighter. He took it as an opportunity to scoop you up and change positions, sitting on the couch and giving you the freedom to ride him.

“Wan’ you comin’ on my cock, beautiful,” he moaned. His calloused fingertips circled your clit as he fucked his load deeper into you. You bounced on him, his cock spearing you. The tip hit your g-spot with each thrust. Stars sparkled in your vision as you clenched down on him hard.

“C’mon, use my cock, make yourself come. That’s it, fuck.”

His hips bucked up to meet yours halfway, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout his living room. You were a moaning mess, chanting his name haphazardly. Your walls clamped down around him and milked any remaining cum from him as you both reached your second peaks.

“Christ,” he groaned, stilling inside of you. The mixture of your fluids seeped from your fluttering hole. Joel smoothed his palms over your sweat slick back, peppering kisses along your shoulders and collarbone. Praises flew from his mouth like a prayer and you were his goddess, all his to worship.

Joel used his sweatpants to catch any leakage as his softened cock slipped out from you. He took his time with you, helping you regain your composure with more kisses and lingering touches. You followed him to his room where he properly cleaned you up and gave you a Texas Longhorns shirt and boxer shorts.

“You’re more than welcome t’stay,” Joel offered. “Or I can drive ya back. Your choice, sweetheart.”

Your arms snaked up and around his shoulders, stretching yourself up on your tiptoes. A smile crept onto your face as Joel held you steady by your ass. You peeked over at his unmade bed with only two measly pillows, one of them crumpled up in the middle of his bed. A shy smile adorned his face as you refocused on him. He was going to be the death of you.

“Set an alarm and take me to bed, cowboy.”

Late into the following evening, you found yourself back in Pour Choices. A lingering soreness twinged between your legs the entire day. You weren’t there to drink. You wanted Joel.

He started his usual greeting until he realized you had stepped through the doors, another black dress clinging to your body and lips stained a deeper shade of red than before.

“Hey, darlin’,” he smiled breathlessly. You sauntered over to the bar, leaning in close and cutting to the chase in a seductive whisper.

“I’m gonna sit in the corner and wait for you to close up. Wanna return the favor from last night.”

Joel can confidently say that was his quickest close of his career, and you can just as confidently state that you successfully returned the favor, covering that poor man with crimson lip prints. He’d never complain about the physical reminder of you, using it as inspiration on the nights he craved you while you were away. He never thought he’d go from having everything from you for a couple weeks to having nothing for over a year.

“Wasn’t sure if you were gonna remember me,” you smiled softly, a twinge of sadness in your eyes. He chuckled and shook his head, grabbing a new glass and some ice.

“I could never forget you, sugar,” he smirked, grabbing a top shelf whiskey and pouring it into the glass. The crackle of the ice drew your attention. You were always a sucker for whiskey. He remembered.

“On the house, darlin’. Want me to take your other drink? Doesn’t seem like you enjoyed it,” Joel pointed to the condensation lined cup with the half dranken Manhattan. “I know you’re not the sipping type of gal.”

“Yeah, thank you,” you smiled brighter as he took away the used cup. “Y’all don’t make Manhattans like they do back home,” you jabbed, taking a big gulp of the chilled whiskey. Those familiar lip prints stamped on the glass.

“But,” you continued, glancing at his bare ring finger. You observed the sprouting grays in his sideburns and deepened creases on his face, seeing the effect that the last two years had on him. “Y’all have something that New York doesn’t.”

You traced the rim of the glass, trying to pick up any emotion from his expressionless face. He did however crack a small smirk at your comment and leaned against the bar with both hands. Suddenly it felt like everyone else disappeared and it was just you and him in the moment.

“Hm, and what’s that, sweetheart?” He leaned closer and replied softly, but just loud enough for only you to hear.

“You, Joel.”

to keep up to date on upcoming parts, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications. thank you for reading!! <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #my writing #fic: you & i

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pinkhairswagtourney · 2 years ago

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please give a warm welcome to the 128 contestants of the pink hair swag tourney, part three !!

we have 57 new contenders and 71 returning competitors vying for the crown !! starting on 06/21/2023, we'll start voting to determine which of these pink haired characters is the swaggiest of all time !!

ROUND ONE MATCHUPS

PART ONE - 06/21 Iris Lovefeather - Tales of the Rays VS Lightning Farron - Final Fantasy Molli Pop - Candies n’ Curses VS Lily Tabacchi - Lily’s Well Yuyuko Saigyouji - Touhou Project VS Kasen Ibaraki - Touhou Project Madoka Kaname - Madoka Magica VS Aya Maruyama - Bang Dream! Vivian - Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door VS Anne Faulkner - Paradox Live Reona West - Prism Paradise VS Mirai Momoyama - Sparkling Prism Channel Crona - Soul Eater VS Chibiusa - Sailor Moon Satsuki Momoi - Kuroko no Basket VS Alice Asmodeus - Mairimashita! Iruma-kun

PART TWO - 06/22 Meninas McAllon - Bleach VS Neon Nostrade - Hunter x Hunter (1999) Shima Renzou - Blue Exorcist VS Szayelaporro Granz - Bleach Ln'eta - Sucker for Love: First Date VS Miyako Shikamori - Shikamori’s Not Just a Cutie Hot Pants - Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure VS Yasuho Hirose - Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Sheena Murphy - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles VS Scary Girl - Total Drama Cleo - Dragalia Lost VS Amy Pile - Grand Chase Mashiro Nijigaoka - Hirogaru Sky! Pretty Cure VS Nodoka Hanadera - Healin’ Good Pretty Cure Rina Tennoji - Love Live VS Mei Hatsume - My Hero Academia

PART THREE - 06/23 Mizuki Akiyama - Project Sekai VS Utena Tenjou - Revolutionary Girl UtenaSakura Miku - Vocaloid VS Goku Black - Dragon BallRose Quartz - Steven Universe VS Bonnibel Bubblegum - Adventure TimeLilim - Puyo Puyo VS Harpy - Puyo PuyoUlala - Space Channel 5 VS Jerrica Benton - Jem and the HologramsKohaku Oukawa - Ensemble Stars VS Ramuda Amemura - Hypnosis Mic Sara - Tales of Link VS Meido - Heaven’s Design TeamNatsu Dragneel - Fairy Tail VS Marluxia - Kingdom Hearts

PART FOUR - 06/24 Popuri - Harvest Moon VS Lyla - Harvest Moon Ramsey Murdoch - Epithet Erased VS Yoomtah Zing - Epithet Erased Trixie Roughhouse - Epithet Erased VS Giovanni Potage - Epithet Erased Estellise Sidos Heurassein - Tales of Vesperia VS Sophia - Stardew Valley Expanded Clover Field - Zero Escape VS Zizel - Witch’s Heart Nikki - Love Nikki VS Zero Two - Darling in the Franxx Nana Hiiragi - Munou na Nana VS Amu Hinamori - Shugo Chara! Maggie Pesky - The Buzz on Maggie VS Jinmay - Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go!

PART FIVE - 06/25 Reo Maruyama - Paradox Live VS Kazuichi Souda - Danganronpa Seraphine - League of Legends VS Violet - Arcane Jewelry Bonney - One Piece VS Koby - One Piece Perona - One Piece VS Shirahoshi - One Piece Minato Aqua - Hololive VS Himemori Luna - Hololive Mina Ashido - My Hero Academia VS Anya Forger - Spy x Family Kaoru Sakurayashiki - Sk8 the Infinity VS Nadeshiko Kagamihara - Yuru Camp Molly - Bubble Guppies VS Toadette - Mario Series PART SIX - 06/26 Hitori Gotoh - Bocchi the Rock! VS Mitsuri Kanroji - Demon Slayer Hinako Mishuku - Your Turn to Die VS Nao Egokoro - Your Turn to Die Riamu Yumemi - The iDOLM@STER Cinderella Girls VS Miyu Sakurada - Dig Delight Direct Drive DJ Sucy Manbavaran - Little Witch Academia VS Chuatury Panlunch - Gundam: The Witch from Mercury Ran - Urusei Yatsura VS Akira Kogami - Lucky Star Ilima - Pokemon VS Pastille - Starry Flowers Kumatora - Mother 3 VS Amy Rose - Sonic the Hedgehog Setsuno - Toriko VS Genkai - YuYu Hakusho PART SEVEN - 06/27 Aubrey - OMORI VS Iris Sagan - AI: The Somnium Files Muku Sakisaka - Act! Addict! Actors! VS Tori Himemiya - Ensemble Stars Ribbon - Kirby VS Strawberry Crepe Cookie - Cookie Run Cotton Candy Cookie - Cookie Run VS Rambutan Cookie - Cookie Run Narciso Anasui - Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure VS Diavolo - Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Yanagi Hanabusa - DREAM!ing VS Shion Mikekado - DREAM!ing Delta - Honkai Impact VS Elysia - Honkai Impact Kory Anders - Titans VS Gamora - Marvel Cinematic Universe PART EIGHT - 06/28 Sakura Haruno - Naruto VS Euphemia Li Brittania - Code Geass Kipo Oak - Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts VS Tom Lucitor - Star VS the Forces of Evil “Big” Jack Horner - Puss in Boots VS Princess Poppy - Trolls Machi Komacine - Hunter x Hunter VS Chika Fujiwara - Kaguya-Sama: Love is War Slurpuff - Pokemon VS Tinkaton - Pokemon Hilda Valentine Goneril - Fire Emblem: Three Houses VS Yae Miko - Genshin Impact Ortega - Pokemon VS Nurse Joy - Pokemon Tenebria - Epic Seven VS Tecna - Winx Club

#pink hair swag tourney #after several pain flare ups i finally got it done . sorry about the wait !!!

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delulu-royaltea · 5 months ago

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Headcanons about The other Troll Tribes.

Techno Trolls

When a Techno Troll is heavily stressed out the "Glitch" as the start moving erratically.

The symbol on their chest varies in size and color for each Techno Troll.

They are naturally attracted to bright lights and colors.

The Techno string was stored in a glowstick.

Techno Troll blood is bright neon.

Techno Trolls are semi Translucent. The heart symbol on their chest is their ACTUAL heart.

They can see in the dark.

Country Trolls

Country Trolls are the only tribe who's blood is normal red blood.

They use BB guns to hunt.

Trolls that are half country are either full centaur or if they are bi-pedal they still have hooves.

The Country string was in a banjo.

Rock Trolls

Their Blood is hot. Like actually boiling. In response, their skin is similar to stone.

Ancient Rock Trolls had full dragon/bat wings. The only remnants of those wings in modern Rock Trolls are small bumps on their back.

They have arrow shaped tails. It is popular to get the tail pierced.

Their brand of party is more similar to college parties, expect a blunt rotation.

They are REALLY apologetic about the World Tour.

Funk Trolls

Funk Trolls have opposable thumbs in their hands and feet.

Trolls that are Hybris of Funk and another genre usually Have multiple of the same limb. (Ex. Two sets of arms)

Cooper and Darnell's birthday were holiday's. Kinda similar to Rapunzel's birthday lantern show.

It's popular to wear tinsel in funk Trolls society.

They are the most technologically advanced tribe other than Techno.

They absorbed Disco and Hip-hop into their society. Disco Trolls are now considered a subset of Funk Troll.

Classical Trolls

Their wings are soft like fabric.

Hybrid classical troll wings change depending on their other genre.

Rock /classical produces wings similar to ancient Rock Trolls

Techno/Classical produces fin wings.

Funk/Classical causes the wings to look similar to angel wings.

Country/Classical causes wings with leather texture.

Pop/Classical produces more shiny, Fairy like wings.

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls movie #My trolls headcanons #trolls headcanons #trolls band together #fanfic #trolls world tour

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fandom · 1 year ago

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Anime & Manga

Do you hear the Drums of Liberation?

One Piece +5

Jujutsu Kaisen +1

Mob Psycho 100 +2

Chainsaw Man +8

Boku no Hero Academia -4

SPY x FAMILY -4

Trigun Stampede

Bungou Stray Dogs +11

Buddy Daddies

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure -2

Naruto -4

Mo Dao Zu Shi -2

Haikyuu!! -9

19 Days +3

Sailor Moon

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba -5

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System +9

Fullmetal Alchemist +2

Tian Guan Ci Fu -3

Bocchi the Rock!

Trigun Maximum

Dungeon Meshi +16

Attack on Titan -10

Death Note -6

Blue Lock

Yu-Gi-Oh! -12

Bleach -5

Gundam

Tokyo Revengers -20

Hetalia -9

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury

Puella Magi Madoka Magica

Revolutionary Girl Utena +6

Digimon -5

Kuroshitsuji

Hunter X Hunter -8

Neon Genesis Evangelion -10

Inuyasha -13

Dragon Ball Z -2

Soul Eater

Witch Hat Atelier

Trigun

Lupin III -9

Berserk -2

Fairy Tail -10

Yuri!!! on ICE -23

Detective Conan

Dorohedoro

Pop Team Epic -6

Sk8 the Infinity -20

The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last year.

#year in review #anime #manga #tumblr2023

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kaiakaevents · 3 months ago

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Crimson Clover Week From February 7th to 14th. [2025]

PROMPTS.

1. Medieval Fantasy / Urban Fantasy*.

2. Legacy / Moon.

3. Flowers / Jewels.

4. Movies [AU] / City Pop*.

5. Immortality / Necromancy.

6. Famous AU / Partners in Crime.

7. Valentine's Day / Bad Luck.

Explanation of [*]

Urban fantasy is a genre that mixes fantasy elements, such as magic or supernatural creatures (vampires, wizards, fairies), with modern or urban settings. Unlike medieval fantasy, where everything happens in an ancient world full of castles, urban fantasy takes place in contemporary cities, such as New York or London. In these types of stories, magic coexists with technology and everyday life, sometimes in a secret or hidden way. A good example of urban fantasy would be Harry Potter when wizards live in London and use magic while others don't notice. City pop is a musical genre that emerged in Japan in the late 1970s and rose to popularity in the 1980s. It is a mix of pop, funk, jazz, disco and soft rock, creating a fresh and relaxed sound, inspired by urban life and the modern lifestyle of that time, especially related to big cities and the idea of enjoying luxury and leisure. Visually, city pop is associated with a retro aesthetic that reflects 80s culture, bright colors, neon lights, sports cars, cityscapes, beaches and fashion from that decade. The images evoke a nostalgic feeling, like eternal summer, in an atmosphere of urban glamour.

RULES.

You can include other couples, but the main focus should always be Akako x Kaito.

Platonic fanworks are welcome.

Don't forget to put the corresponding tags and warnings on your works.

You are free to interpret the instructions as you want, you don't have to take it completely literally.

You can mix all the themes, not do some, do all of them or do just one, it doesn't matter, we accept any contribution for the AkaKai community.

We will be working with the following tags: #CrimsonWeek2025 #CrimsonWeek #AkaKaiWeek and #AkaKaiWeek2025.

You can send a message or write in the comments if you have any doubts or questions! It's always a pleasure to help.

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silliest-basilisk · 5 months ago

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ok so i watched cinderella's castle and uh. ok here are my thoughts: first of all, the things i loved:

the puppets! thats what i was most excited about when it came to this show, and boy they definitely delivered. sir hop-a-lot and crumb were my favourite part of the show, and jon and joey knocked it out of the park as them!

the set design and lighting! i really loved the set, and the way they played with lighting was GENIUS. the fairy queen's entrance, and the way they used the blacklight during ella's entrance with the starlight dress so that you only saw the dress was amazing.

THE COSTUMES!!! they were gorgeous god!!

the choreography!! very nice as always :}

now onto the things i liked less...

way too many sex jokes for my taste. i know it's starkid but they don't usually lay it on this thick. it just made me cringe.

speaking of, i just generally didn't like the character of the prince very much. i found his style of humour kinda clashed with the tone of the show. james tolbert's acting definitely saved the character imo

and the absolute biggest disappointment for me: the soundtrack. god i'm sorry jeff really shat the bed with this one. purely sound-wise it's fine (though i'm not really a huge fan of the poppy feel of the music. i think the inclusion of electronic music is very interesting, but i personally would've preferred a more baroque rock type sound but that's just personal preference), but the songs were just extremely un-theatre-like. they suffer from what i lovingly call the "dear evan hansen problem": they're generic and vague songs where the character just sings about one feeling throughout the whole song. there's no evolution, which is KEY in musical theatre. for almost all the songs except the fairy queen's and one other song in act 2, i was just sitting there like "...ok? why is this song happening? it's telling me nothing". you could cut like 90% of the songs from this show out and you could still understand the plot perfectly well. the most egregious example being right at the start - the opening number. an opening number is supposed to introduce us to the world and the characters, and the opening number of this show does... neither. it just tells us there's. a castle on a hill??? ok??? what do i care??? the songs also feel very short - likely due to the lack of a bridge in most of them. bridges are important in musical theatre!!! they're usually the turning point of a song!! without one, this show's soundtrack feels empty and like it's missing something. and unfortunately, the overall poor quality of the other parts of the music also highlights jeff's poor lyricism. i can usually let it slide because the other aspects of the soundtrack are very good, but this time it's just... no. nobody's ever strung these words together in the history of man. fuck you mean "a cat that was strayed"??? nobody says that!!! god!!! also why are they talking about "neon lights" when the universe we're in is a medieval fantasy? i would've excused it normally, but earlier in the show, they SPECIFICALLY avoid mentioning a modern invention when the prince says he "dodged a sword thrust" instead of "dodged a bullet". so yeah overall, i feel like this show could've used a different songwriter, perhaps someone like the aj holmes and kaley mcmahon duo from twisted? but yeah those are my thoughts. no shade to you if you loved the ost, but i just personally found it weak! OH AND ALSO ELLA'S OUTFIT POST-RESURRECTION WAS A DOWNGRADE SORRY NOT SORRY!!!

#team starkid #starkid productions #cinderella's castle #cinderellas castle #basil talks #long post

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hellfirehottie · 7 months ago

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California Dreamin' - Eddie Munson

Chapter One - Black Magic Woman

‘Yes, you’ve got your spell on me, baby,

You’ve turned my heart into stone,

I need you so bad, magic woman, I can’t leave you alone’

Black Magic Woman - Fleetwood Mac

Friday / 10:55pm: closing time / Hawkins Record Store

In Hawkins, Indiana, the nighttime sky is raining heavily. Nina’s car enters and parks in the dimly lit parking lot. The only light provided in the dark night is by the worn out street lamps and the neon sign of the record store. Nina leaves her car, leather jacket over her head to shield from the downpour, and runs to the record store.

Eddie: “Damn it, Dustin!” [muttering to himself, dunking the mop into the bucket] “Those damn kids,” [mopping the red slushie stain on the ceiling] “How did the damn slushie get on the ceiling?” [sighing, defeated, turning up the volume on his tape player, Black Sabbath playing loudly in his ears] “That’s gonna come out of my paycheck.”

The door opens.

Nina: “Hello? Are you still open?” [Nina walks into the building, cautiously looking around. She walks behind Eddie, who is singing softly to himself, and taps him on the shoulder.] “Hello?” Eddie: [loudly, shocked] “Gah!” [Eddie turns around in fright, mop leaving his hand and hitting Nina in the face] “What the fu-” Nina: [clutching her face] “Oof!” [clutching her nose, eyes watering] “What the hell, man?!” [blinking away her tears] “I think you broke my nose!” Eddie: [earnestly, heart racing in shock, disorientated] “Oh fuck, oh shit, I’m so sorry! Are you okay? You scared the shit out of me!” Nina: [sarcastically] “Oh yes, I’m never better, you just broke my nose!” Eddie: “You scared me! I wasn’t expecting anyone in, we’re closed!” Nina: [looking at the closed sign on the door, sheepish] “Oh, my bad.” [apologetic, sniffling, bumbling] “I’m sorry, I should have read the sign, I’ll go, this is totally my fault, I-” Eddie: [awkward] “Hey, don’t apologise, I’m sorry I threw a mop at you…”[scratching his neck awkwardly] “Is your nose okay? Can I get you anything?” Nina: [still sniffling, smiling to ease the tension] “A new nose, maybe?” Eddie: [joking] “Sold the last one this morning.” [Nina gives him a deadpan stare. Eddie blushes and chews his thumb nervously] “I don’t know why I said that.” Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought. “A tissue, maybe?” Nina: “Please.” [she takes the tissues off Eddie and wipes her nose and eyes] “I should have checked the sign. Guess we’re both at fault, huh?” Eddie: (bewildered) “Sure…” I’ve never seen you before, he thought. [Eddie smiles shyly at Nina] “So, er, can I help you with something?” Nina: [tugging at her cardigan sleeves, awkward under Eddie’s gaze] “I know it’s late but I’m looking for an album, I was wondering if you have it in stock? I know it’s past closing time but I’m desperate, and then we can call it even. Cool?” Eddie: [feeling nervous, small smile on his face, palms sweaty] “Sure, what are you looking for?” Nina: “I’m looking for Rumours by Fleetwood Mac on vinyl, any luck? Mine’s broken.” Eddie: [springing into life, false enthusiasm] “Why of course! Here at Hawkins Record Store we’re here to cater to all musical tastes!”

Eddie skips over to the back corner of the store, doing dramatic jazz hands in front of the rock section. Nina watches, amused. The corner is decorated with twinkly fairy lights and bohemian wall hangings, and smelled like opium incense.

A pang of homesickness fills Nina’s gut.

Nina: (quietly) “Thanks.”

Eddie stands behind Nina, watching her every move, as she flicks through the vinyls. Nina finds herself smiling at how adorably awkward the cute shop clerk is. Eddie chews his thumb again, thinking of ways to carry on the conversation.

Eddie: (awkwardly) “So, er, your last vinyl broke huh? That good, is it?” Nina: (shyly) “Oh it broke in some boxes, I’ve just moved here.” [Eyes flicking between Eddie and the vinyls.] “But yeah, Fleetwood Mac are the best. You like them?” Eddie: “Thought I hadn’t seen you around. I would definitely remember seeing you.” [Eddie blushes at the realisation of what he said, eyes widening, Nina smiles and flushes at his comment. Eddie feels giddy that he made her smile. Eddie sways, faking nonchalance] “Can’t say I’ve listened to them.”

Nina: “You should, you’re missing out.”

A peaceful quietness settled in the store. Eddie shamelessly checks out the new customer. He shakes himself back to reality.

Eddie: (voice squeaky, loud in the quiet room) “Two for one on selected albums!” Nina: [turning around, puzzled] “…Sorry?” Eddie: (awkwardly) “We, erm, have two for the price of one on certain items. Spring sale, y’know, all that jazz.”

You’re making an idiot of yourself, Eddie thinks.

Nina: (smiling, eager to engage in conversation) “Oh cool, anything you’d recommend?”

Excitement bubbles in Eddie’s stomach.

The cute girl is talking to me. Be cool.

Eddie: (enthusiastically) “A personal favourite of mine is Ride the Lightning, ten out of ten would recommend.” [He pulls the album off the rack, presenting it to her.] Nina: “Wow, ten out of ten, I’ll have to give it a go. But if it sucks, I’m blaming you.” [Nina’s smile widens, fidgeting in her spot under his stare.]

Is she flirting with me? Eddie thought. No, she can’t be.

Eddie: (attempting to flirt, smiling at her.) “I will happily take the blame, though I doubt you’ll be disappointed.”

Eddie rings up her bill, his mind desperately trying to think of ways to continue the conversation. Eddie cautiously takes sneaky glances at Nina as her eyes wander around the store.

Nina: [eyeing up Eddie’s name tag on his black shirt] “See you around, Eddie.” [She smiles, picks up her bag and leaves.]

I didn’t even ask her name.

Eddie finishes up mopping the floor, smiling to himself as his heart flutters.

Monday / 8:50AM / Hawkins High School.

Eddie’s combat boot clad feet land hard on the gravel as he hops out his van. He slams the door behind him tiredly, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

He rubs his eyes tiredly as he looks over the school car park. He scans the crowd in front of him, looking for anyone he knows. A flash of red hair catches his eye, but vanishes again.

Christ, I’m imagining things.

Eddie shakes his head and walks grumpily to the school cafeteria.

Eddie is face down on the lunch table, half asleep, waiting for the 9AM bell to ring. Dustin, Will and Mike exchanging D & D theories. El and Max talking about the Beach Boys, Lucas groaning and rolling his eyes.

At the next table, Steve is ranting about another failed date, while Nancy and Jonathan joke at his expense.

The 9AM bell rings, and everyone pours into the hallways to go to the first lesson of the day.

Eddie sees a flash of red hair again walk past the doorway and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Eddie: [muttering to himself] “Damn, she’s haunting me.” [yawning] “I’m going crazy.” [pulling his books out of his locker, grumpy in the morning.] “Fucking English” [tired] “Who gives a shit what Hemingway says anyway.”

Robin and Nina make their way down the corridor, on their way to first period.

Eddie chokes on his own spit and attempts to hide himself behind the door of his locker.

Eddie: [to himself, wide eyed, palms sweaty] “Shit, shit, shit!” [Eddie looks around frantically for an escape route, runs towards a door which closes before he can reach it. He attempts to hide behind a bin, the bin starts to tip over] “Oh, fuck!” [Eddie steadies the bin, other students look at him weirdly, Eddie’s eyes flick to Nina and Robin who are only 15 feet away, he panics more.] “Oh god, Oh god!” [Eddie hides once again behind his locker door, head deep inside the locker.] “I can’t believe this is happening!” Robin: [smiling, too happy for so early in the morning] “Hey Eddie! Meet my cousin Nina! She’s just transferred here!” Eddie: [peeping his head around the locker door, a nervous smile on his face, raking his hands through his hair, shy] “Hi.”

Nina: [bewildered, then pleasantly surprised] “Hi.” (amused, smiling) “We’ve met before actually, Eddie here nearly broke my nose.”

She has blue- no, grey eyes, Eddie thought.

Eddie: [smiling too, but dying of embarrassment] “I threw a mop at her face.”

Damn, I forgot how cute she was.

Robin: (looking confused, then laughing) “I’m not going to ask! Come on, I’ll walk you to Maths.”

Robin drags Nina away down the corridor, Nina turns around and gives a small wave to Eddie, which Eddie reciprocates. Eddie takes a moment to compose himself before slamming his locker door, walking to English.

12:40pm, lunchtime / Hawkins High School cafeteria.

Eddie’s eyes flick around the room, mind alert, waiting for Nina to enter the cafeteria; eyes glueing to the table below him when she enters. He can’t help himself from sneakily watching her every move, not being subtle.

[Nina sits down beside Robin two tables away from Eddie and the Hellfire Club, with Steve, Nancy and Johnathan. They all laugh hard at a joke Steve makes. Eddie watches with jealousy as Nina giggles cutely at his joke. He finds himself staring as he watches Nina steal some of Steve’s fries.]

Eddie felt stupid over how jealous he was over a girl he didn't know but he wanted to be the one she leaned on when he made her laugh so much, whose food she steals.

[He looks at Nina and then down at the table bitterly.]

Dustin: [waving his hand in Eddie’s face] “Hello, earth to Eddie?” Mike: [shaking his head at Eddie] “You’re wasting your time dude, he’s long gone.” Gareth: [intrigued] “He’s been like this all morning.” Max: (muttering) “Maybe Vecna has possessed him.” Lucas: [shaking his head, swatting Max] “Too soon.” [Max grins at him.] Eddie: [blinking, returning to earth from his jealous thoughts] “Huh, what?” Gareth: (laughing) “You were totally staring at the new girl.” Eddie: (embarrassed, trying to play it off coolly) “Was not.” Jeff: “I don’t blame him, she’s hot.” [Not so subtly glancing at Nina.] Argyle: (to Jeff, sassy) “She’d never go for a freak like you in a million years.”

[The table erupts in a chorus of “Damn”’s “Oh Shit”’s. ]

She’d never go for a freak like me either Jeff, Eddie thought.

Dustin: (quietly, pulling Eddie to the side) “You okay, man?”

Eddie: (hushed) “The new girl is Fleetwood Mac Gi- Nina. She’s called Nina.” [Dustin looks at him confused] “The girl from the record store I was telling you about.” Dustin: (erupting, standing up from his seat) “No way! That’s awesome! Eddie and Nina sitting in a tree!”

[Eddie drags Dustin back down to his seat as people stare. Eddie goes red with embarrassment.]

Eddie: [hissing] “Dustin! Keep your voice down!” Will: “Why are we shushing?” Mike: “When has Eddie ever shushed, or been shushed?” El: “What’s going on?” Lucas: “Eddie has a girlfriend, what?” Dustin: (laughing) “Eddie’s in looooove!” [doing his signature purr that he does for the ladies]

[Questions fly around the table.]

Eddie: (grumpy) “Not cool man.” [shoving Dustin] “Can we please get back to the campaign?” (Back to his usual charismatic self) “A loud rumbling is emerging from the enchanted forest that you little shits aren’t ready for.”

2:40pm / Science class

Eddie huffs as he goes to his seat at the back of class, ready for the day to end. His eyes perk up when Nina enters the classroom.

Mr Clarke: “You’re late.” Nina: (sheepish) “Sorry, I got lost. Won’t happen again.” [she works her way to the free seat in the row in front of Eddie.] Mr Clarke: “Wait, not so fast!” [Nina freezes in her spot, eyes closed with dread] “You’re the new girl, right? Why don’t you come up to the front and introduce yourself?” [A few people in the class laugh and whisper at each other, Nina turns on her heels and stands awkwardly at the front of the class] Nina: “Hi, I’m Nina. I’ve just transferred here from California.” [The whispers increase and Nina fiddles with her rings nervously.] “That’s about it, really.” [She shuffles awkwardly back to her seat.] Mr Clarke: “Why don’t we give Nina a warm Hawkins welcome?” [the room is scattered with applause, Eddie claps quietly, watching her every move.] “So! Physics…” [Mr Clarke begins the lesson.]

Nina rummages through her bag for her notebook, leaning on the desk in front of her, the hem of her jeans dipping to show the lace of her underwear.

Jeff notices and elbows Eddie to get his attention, nodding over at Nina’s direction. Eddie shoves him, muttering a quiet ‘Perv’, trying his hardest not to stare. His neck and cheeks go red with heat, and he shuffles uncomfortably in his seat.

Nina: [turning around to face Eddie, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet hers, blushing from nearly being caught staring at her ass] “Do you guys happen to have a pen I can borrow?”

Eddie: [stuttering] “Su-sure.” [He goes into his bag and hands her a pen] “Hope it works.” Nina: [smiling, eyebrow raised] “Thanks.”

‘Hope it works’? She must think you’re so lame.

Eddie spends the rest of the lesson daydreaming and doodling in his book. He occasionally looks up at the board, and looks at Nina, hoping to catch her eye. At the end of the lesson, Nina picks up her bag and walks out the classroom. Eddie follows behind along with the rest of the class. He watches from a distance as she meets up with Robin, Steve, Jonathan and Nancy in the car park, laughing with the group before they get into their cars; and Eddie is left saddened he didn’t speak to her more.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two - Cherry Bomb

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