#the fact these are in my two very different styles right next to each other is sending me bro

[dreary-robot]

Contempt / Authority

some pfp's i made of my two loser failgirl villains

[pedrospatch]

fall into temptation | one

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

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

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

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

word count: 8.4k

Jackson, Wyoming

Fall 2024

Joel had seen him around the community before. 

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

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

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

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

Joseph? Was that it? 

He couldn’t be certain.

Not that Joel really even cared to know his name. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snorted sharply through his nose. “Hope?”

“Yes, hope,” she snapped at him. 

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that?”

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

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

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

Shit. 

He’d been caught gawking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel tossed him a skeptical look across the table.

“She really as innocent as she seems?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And the old man doesn’t know?”

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

He smirked. “Which part?”

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s she been holdin’ up?”

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

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

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

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

You were leaving. Alone. 

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

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

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

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

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

Kent was going after you. 

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

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

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

You were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Kent. 

That couldn’t fucking be good. 

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

That’s when he heard it. 

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

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

Red.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stared at him with wide and fearful eyes.

A single tear slipped down the side of your face.

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

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

But he’d heard it loud and clear. 

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded. “Un—Understood.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel felt a strange warmth radiate in his chest. 

Fucking hell, Tommy had been right about you. 

You really were too good.

“Darlin’ I already told you m’fine—”

“Please?”

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

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

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

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

“That really ain’t necessary.”

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

There it was again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You disappeared down a short, dimly lit corridor.

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

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

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

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

He averted his eyes, turning away from it. 

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

A fucking slab of carved wood. 

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

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

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

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

“No offense taken, Joel.”

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

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

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

Smiling politely, you told him your name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your answer took him by complete surprise.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel—”

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

Your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words. 

You had never thought about it like that before.

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

He was right, after all. 

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

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

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

“What is it?” 

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

Oh. That’s what he meant.

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

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

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

“The wrong path?”

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

“By controllin’ you.” 

It had been a statement, not a question. 

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

There was another short bout of silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’right.”

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Want, sure. 

He had wanted Tess. He had wanted Esther. 

But Joel didn’t just want you. 

He fucking needed you. 

And he didn’t know why.

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

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

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

You breathed out a shaky, “I’m sure.”

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

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

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

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

“I—I want you to kiss me.” 

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

You heard him chuckle softly. 

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

“Please.”

“S’much better.”

Your heart pounded with anticipation.

It was almost too much for you to handle. 

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

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

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

What the fuck had he been thinking? 

And what about you? 

Where the fuck had your common sense gone?

Probably ran off together with Joel’s.

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

You were having none of it. 

None. 

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

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

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

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

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

Desperate, you uttered one final, “Please.”

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

He couldn’t. Simple as that. 

“You sure ‘bout this?”

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

“C’mere then, darlin’ girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You, Joel. I need you.”

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

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

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

“Darlin’ are you—?”

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

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

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

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

“Then what’s the matter?”

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

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

“You’re a what?”

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

“Turn around, sweet girl.” 

Joel’s command was firm but still gentle. 

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

“Look at me.”

You tried, but couldn’t. 

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

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

Close, but somehow not close enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, what?”

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

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

You nearly moaned around his finger. “Yes.”

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

“Yes, please.”

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

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

He almost laughed at your expression. 

“C’mon, don’t give me that face.”

“But Joel—”

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

Your answer came without an ounce of hesitation.

“Of course,” you breathed.

You would wait an eternity for Joel Miller.

[sluttsumu]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ CASE OF THE EX

ೃ࿐ feat. gojo satoru

in which: you run into your ex husband just when he realizes he needs you back.

contains: nsfw, smut, exhusband!gojo, dubcon, infidelity, intoxicated sex (alcohol), breeding, gojo calls reader wifey, exhibitionism if you squint. wc: 1.3k

ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this was supposedly to be a drabble and ended up being way longer than expected. i’m also trying out a diff writing style lmk whatcha think!

it’s freezing, as it normally is in december, but this was a different type of cold.

the standing on your ex husband’s porch, four glasses of wine deep, kind of cold. you’ve been standing outside for borderline five minutes, but you know he’s home.

“satoru..” the door creaks open to a very tipsy gojo standing on the other side. he’s quick to pull you in without another word because, “it’s freezing, why are you here this late?”

locking the door behind you he winces, rubbing his eyes trying to remember what day of the week it is. “is it my weekend to have her?”

her being your daughter, satoru’s beloved angel — the only other girl he’s ever loved besides you.

loved. past tense.

he swears he’s still inlove with you but you never believed it. you hated gojo satoru, but that’s just what you wanted yourself to think. he’s been trying to break down this wall of resentment for months, after all it’s been almost a year since you two split.

“she’s at your mothers house, i dropped her off last night.”

gojo could breathe easy knowing his daughter isn’t here, he didn’t want her to him like this; drunk, that is.

you watched as he disappears into the kitchen, taking your coat and shoes off, leaving them in familiar places.

you don’t why you’re here, back in this house, with him. it’s almost as if you were on autopilot directing yourself to a common place with no intention just…there.

he comes back with a bottle in one hand and two crystal glasses in the other, staring blankly before asking again, “why are you here?”

the silence was loud enough, it was actually the most you two have spoken in the past year.

—

“do you miss me?” smirking with the tilt of his head he rests his head in his palm, eyes flickering between you and the full shot in front of you. the two of you playing a variation of truth or drink.

“satoru…don’t do this to me.” you face palm.

“i know you do, but if your ego is too big to admit it then take it.” slender fingers slide the glass your way, you could see your reflection in the liquid, and god, you look guilty.

speaking of looks, if they could kill you’d be a dead woman. the way he looks back at you across the table reminds you of all of the reasons you crave gojo satoru.

you took the shot, quickly too. it burned going down almost lighting your body on fire in a self-sabotaging way. he found pleasure in watching you not admitting the blatant fact.

“you deny it but it’s true,” standing, he downs the contents of his glass mid-sentence, making you both somewhat even in intoxication.

the ‘clink’ of him setting his glass down next to yours echos as he’s now moved from sitting across to standing in front of you.

“ ‘m sure there a lot you miss about me, hmm?” his hands slide between your hair and skin, four out of five digits resting on the nape of your neck, his thumbs brushing against your cheek.

from gojo’s pov he couldn’t have you in a better place, literally in the palm of his hand. as crazy as it sounds he had to do this, he loves you, and love makes you do some…not nice things.

to be fair, manipulation and persuasion are not the same to him. he never told you to come over, but then again he could’ve called you an uber and sent you back home…that would’ve been the ‘right’ thing to do.

unfortunately for you everything that comes to mind in the head of gojo satoru is right.

you nod shyly, listening to each saccharine word that leaves his lips.

“c’mon wifey, it’s been so long” the nickname filled your chest, heavy. suddenly it was impossible to move from where you sat. “i’m seeing someone..” a hand, on his chest as a half-assed attempt to defy him.

—

“s-satoru!” you sound so cute under him, clawing at his sheets. that little confession did something to him, made him want to punish you in the most primal way.

seeing someone? oh that’s not happening, not as long as he’s breathing will you ever be with another man. you’ll always be his pretty, little, obedient wife, who spreads her legs for him any time he pleases.

after all you’re still legally married. gojo refused to sign the divorce papers you sent him and eventually you stopped trying.

you could feel a vibrating pulse within the sheets, it was your phone ringing at a time like this.

“hello?” he answers the phone mid-fuck. “oh well if it isn’t your little boyfriend? i’m in the middle of fucking your girl silly, clearly you haven’t been doing it right..”

his pace increases to a gruelling speed, each thrust clapping against your ass, and it was fucking loud. “fuck! satoru please—! hang uuuuuup.” your begging only fuelled the fire, you needed to know who you belong to and so did your boy toy on the other line.

gojo can’t help but chuckle pridefully, watching you impaled on his cock, but he needed to hear it. no, the sounds of you practically crying while he fucked you wasn’t enough. he wants to hear you beg for him, praise him even. like a god.

“let him hear it wifey ♡︎” he frees a hand by placing the phone next to your head.

“tell him how much,” thrust. “you need your husband’s cock.” thrust. “i fuck so much better than him don’t i ?” thrust. “awe.. you cryin’?”

“need it—! want it satoru! you’re so— hahh! —good!” he was made to torture you like this, fucking you dumb into his mattress while making you spew naughty things for him.

you could feel his speed getting aggressive. beads of sweat falling down his toned tummy to his v-line, the two of you making a sticky mess from being skin to skin. you couldn’t think, mind hazy and full of him.

“fuuuuuck, how about i stuff you full? maybe i should give you another baby, ‘nother reason to be attached to me.” the hypnosis in his voice casts you further under his spell as he grunts sweet nothings into you ear while he pounded your pussy.

“love it,” you growl into his pillows. “i love you satoru! cumming…i’m cumming, please let me cum—” you could only focus on the high washing over your body as your legs begin trembling, muscles spazzing at your arousal tipping over the edge.

your desperation is music to his ears, his lust turning uncontrollable as he assaults your cunt fucking you hard, and deep. at this rate he’ll get you pregnant.

“cum for me, cum with me— shit!” he drawls, gritted through his teeth, bottoming out in his favourite fucking pussy. this feeling will never get old, fucking you will never not be his favourite pastime.

meanwhile the overstimulation teasing your cunt made you that much wetter, and tighter for him. you couldn’t take it anymore, you need it — need his seed sopping out of you. you didn’t even care about your boyfriend who was still listening to this live porn. gojo’s rewired that wondering brain of yours. back to him, in this house, on his bed, fucking his cock.

you might just even take him back.

his pleasure builds as he pumps into your cunt a few more times, before emptying inside of you. you could feel it, cunt full of him. his body collapses on top of yours, fingers intertwining on your hands while you both catch your breath.

“she’s not coming home.” the line cuts.

© SLUTTSUMU 2023 - please refrain from copying, reposting or translating.

[inuyashaluver]

Are we getting any Ona x reader Childhood sweetheart??

mi media naranja (my better half) - ona batlle

ona batlle x reader

description: in which you and your childhood friend watch each other grow up, going through different partners, life stages and miraculously ending up in a surprising result

warnings: it’s a long one - buckle up!! catalan in bold italics, mentions of cheating and tears

a/n: hiya, lovey! i hope you don’t mind that i tweaked this into a childhood friends to lovers situation, i really hope you enjoy❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your best friend, ona, were the epitome of inseperable. your special bond was formed by years of shared laughter, inside jokes, secrets and late night conversations that stood the test of time.

you and ona knew each other better than anyone, the years of being best friends proving soulmates existed.

at first you both believed it was platonic soulmates but as the seasons and years went by, so did your dynamic, unbeknownst to either of you at the time.

it began through the subtle shift in stolen glances and unspoken words and conversations lingering in the air, something felt different for both of you.

little did you both know, the journey and progression from being best friends formed the very foundation of your relationship in the present.

—

[ 7 years old ]

it all started in school, a young ona experimentally kicking a football to a lonely you to test out the waters during lunch break.

in the beginning, you were incredibly shy, finding it hard to make friends at the time. her kindness made your heart warm and when you kicked the ball back, you both knew the other would be in your lives forever.

she came up to you and managed to get you to open up, she was pleasantly surprised to find out that you were quite chatty when you talked about something you were interested in. she loved it.

she’d listen to your words intently, each word engraving new lore about you in her mind, making an effort to remember as much about you as she could.

“one day, we’re gonna play together for spain and bring home a gold medal” ona promises, nudging your shoulder with hers as you both sat next to each other on the grass.

you laugh and nudge her back, nodding and holding your pinky up, she smiled cheekily and interlocked her own with yours, a promise you both intended to keep.

everyday at school, you and ona grew closer. your families were so happy with the fact that you’d made a friend so close, both of you at each other’s houses every other day. it just felt right for the both of you and everyone around you.

—

[ 12 years old ]

you and ona were joined at the hip, not even an exaggeration, you were never apart. you and ona had promised each other that wherever the other would go, you would follow in suit.

it was a non verbal promise but something that was just understood between the two of you.

you and ona had been scouted in your local club to join the youth barcelona team, both of you squealing and jumping around on her bed when you both discussed the situation. however, promptly scolded by ona’s mum that had you both in a fit of giggles.

because the two of you played together so often, each other’s playing styles were very much adapted into your own.

ona was a defender while you played in the midfield, the two of you always linking up to score a goal or an assist.

you both didn’t even need to look at each other to know where to pass or aim, the presence of one another being enough to score goals that had people impressed by your performances.

you and ona thrived in the barcelona team, labelled a dynamic duo by not only your coaches and teammates, but the spectators also.

—

wordless communication and care were the foundations of your friendship. the needs and requirements for the other person just feeling like common sense.

“you didn’t rub it in properly” ona laughs, pointing at the streaks on sunscreen left on the skin of your face.

“in case you didn’t notice, onita, i don’t exactly have a mirror” you grumble, attempting to rub the rest of the sunscreen but missing completely, making the brunette laugh even more.

“oh, preciosa (precious)” she teases, roughly rubbing the remnants into your skin causing you to groan and attempt to push her away.

“done” she cheeses out, giving your cheek a light pat before you shove her away jokingly. “you suck,” you stick your tongue out at her and she immediately returns the gesture, making you both give each other challenging glares before giggling with each other.

—

“my house or yours?” ona grins, passing you your water after training. “mhm, let’s go to yours” you smile back at her, she nods and you both chat as normal.

as soon as you got to ona’s, she gave you some of her clothes to change into and you immediately called your family to let them know you’re here and they already knew you’d ask to stay over so they agreed instantly.

you throw ona a thumbs up as she watches you converse on the phone and she pumps her fist in celebration, making you giggle before ending the call.

—

[ 17 years old ]

this was a difficult time for the both of you, it was when you both started exploring the dating world with other people.

ona got into a relationship first with this random girl, she was super nice at first, but when ona would spend time with you, she would get into insane arguments with her, her girlfriend claiming ona cared more about you than her.

and because it was her first girlfriend, she pulled back from you and you only really saw each other at training, and even then, the communication was limited.

you were heartbroken to say the least, losing your best friend over a girl, you decided to give ona a taste of her own medicine and began dating this girl you thought was really nice.

she treated you well, like a princess honestly, you were giddy and all round happier and ona, from a distance was happy for you.

she’d broken up with her girlfriend and she didn’t, well..couldn’t tell you since she rarely saw you. she regretted the whole relationship, it was toxic and manipulative and she wished she never ditched you for her.

but you were happy again and she would never jeopardise that for you. the only thing ona wanted for you was an endless amount of happiness, getting all the love that you deserved.

it was until you found out your girlfriend had cheated on you, coincidentally with ona’s ex that everything fell back into place.

with tears pooling in your eyes, you knocked on the door of the batlle residence with anxiety overtaking your entire body.

ona opened the door with a worried and confused expression, looking down at your kicked puppy expression that was ready to break down at any moment.

“nena? (babe)” she breathes out, a sob escapes from the back of your throat and you rush to wrap your arms around her neck, pressing your face into her collarbone as your body wracked with a heart wrenching sob.

she immediately holds you around your waist, rubbing comforting circles over the shirt you were wearing, saying nothing but just holding you close.

she tries to pull away to look at you but you shake your head and hold her tighter, she frowns at the sounds of your crying, lifting you up by your thighs and hoisting you up on her waist.

she hurriedly closes the door and rushes to her room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you cried into her arms. she whispers sweet words in your ear as you pressed into her.

you hug for a couple of minutes until you pull away, wiping your tears away with the back of your hands as you looked down at her,

“i didn’t know where else to go” you sniff, your nose red and your voice slightly congested. she frowns at you, using the pad of her finger to wipe away the tear rolling down your cheek.

“you came to the right place, this is your home too, i’ve missed you so much” she says softly, making a few more tears leave your eyes while she chokes back on her own. it felt like so much time but no time had passed as you explained the situation.

ona was pissed, making an effort the next day to give both of your now ex girlfriends a piece of her mind.

that’s when you both decided to take a break with dating, focusing on yourselves, football and each other. everything was back to normal and you were both incredibly relieved.

—

[ 18 - 21 years old ]

as the years went by, you and ona only grew closer, you noticed the shift in your dynamic. the lingering stares and touching blurring the line between platonic and romantic.

you tried to think nothing of it, ona was always incredibly affectionate and if anything she was just being friendly.

if only you knew how this girl really felt about you. in love was an understatement but she didn’t and couldn’t say anything, respecting you more than anyone in the world.

she wouldn’t want to risk losing you, her best friend, her soulmate.

it didn’t really help that you both followed each other to every club, barcelona, madrid, levante and even making the big jump to manchester united.

the best friend duo left an imprint on every club you both went to, proving to be unstoppable in every league.

you were both so in tune and synchronised, ona even managed to assist you in a hat trick at manchester united, claiming it to be one of her proudest moments.

she’d hoist you up on her waist in celebration as she kisses your cheek repeatedly as the girls surrounded you in celebration. “mi niña (my girl)” she grins up at you.

you kiss her forehead in appreciation and couldn’t help but grow a little warm at the pet name, as well as the way she was looking at you as if you were the reason the run had risen in the morning. (she truly believed this)

sure you both got asked over the years if the two of you were dating and it slightly hurt to shut it down.

you received numerous questioning expressions when you’d say, “no, we’re best friends” but the two of you chose to ignore. you both didn’t like each other like that. (silly)

—

[ 24 years old ]

it was until you both decided to return home that everything took a turn. your comeback to barcelona as the dynamic duo had been highly anticipated ever since the transfer rumours came out. and when the contracts were finalised and you and ona were promoted together, it went viral.

falling back into the team with new and old teammates was fluid, and exciting. you both felt good about the whole situation, excited for the new chapter ahead.

ona had partnered up with aitana for training because alexia had dragged you away as soon as she could.

“you like her” she teased, your eyes widen and you give her a little slap on the shoulder, “no, i don’t” you grit out, making your captain laugh brightly.

“please don’t tell me you’re this stupid, have you seen how that girl looks at you?” she scoffs, “heart eyes, makes me feel sick” she mocks, you can’t help the little smile hinting at your lips and alexia smiles satisfied.

she prys the details from you and you surprisingly complied. alexia helped you realised that you’ve liked ona for a while, just never coming to terms with it.

you felt lighter after all of it was off your shoulders, thanking alexia for slapping some sense into you.

she humbly accepted as long as she was the maid of honour at your wedding, making you swear on your life that it would happen.

—

ona had also been in her own conversation with aitana. being one of your teammates for years as well as a close friend, she knew ona liked you, she always has.

she would beg ona to confess, knowing that you liked her back because it was just obvious to anyone with a pulse. she’d always shut down the thoughts quickly. but this time, she actually listened to aitana.

“ona, that girl is in love with you and if she isn’t, you can slap me in the face” aitana speaks with her hands, making ona follow the movements as she spoke.

“you’d actually let me slap you in the face?” ona laughs, aitana gives her a stern expression and ona stops, glancing your way to see you laughing with alexia. she smiles at your bright smile, making aitana shake her head and whisking she had her phone to capture the moment.

—

it was a team bonding session at alexia’s house, a dinner, movie, drinks type of situation. ona and you lived together, like always, so ona drove you both over. alexia opened the door with a hopeful smile but faltered slightly at the two of you just being friends when you gave her that little look of disappointment.

she gives you a longer hug than ona and it makes her slightly suspicious, she knew you and alexia were like sisters but she couldn’t help the funny feeling bubbling in her stomach.

she’d glare slightly whenever you and alexia would interact and it made alexia laugh, knowing that tomorrow you’d come to training with a girlfriend.

when you got in the car and saw ona gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned pale, you glance at her in worry.

“are you okay?” you ask nervously, she looks over at you for a split second before looking back in front. “i’m fine” she says flatly, oh you were in for it.

the rest of the drive was intense and quiet. the tension was unbearable. when you both made it home, ona bolted to her room and slammed the door shut, making you wince. you gave her about an hour to cool off before you cautiously knocked on her door.

“ona?” you say softly, you open the door to see her on her bed just scrolling on her phone, she instinctively moves over so you lie down next to her, staring up at the ceiling as she refuses to look at you.

“have i done something wrong?” you break the silence, ona sighs heavily, “no” she breathes out, turning in her side to face you and prompting you to do the same.

“do you like alexia?” she asks softly, you gawk at her in shock, “what? no!” you exclaim, ona’s cheeks burn a little, looking down to see your hand resting on the bed close to hers.

“why? are you worried?” you tease, ona bores her eyes into yours, “and if i was?” she says full of confidence, your mouth falls open slightly, just blinking as you looked at her in surprise.

both of you are pink cheeked with wide pupils, resembling a full moon. “what do you mean?” you utter, “nenita (babe) you know what i mean” ona says hopefully, you pause for a moment before nodding, your bodies subconsciously moving closer to one another like a magnetic field.

“te amo (i love you)” you say confidently, making the girl in front of you break out into a bright smile, “te amo (i love you)” she parrots, you break out into your own wide smile.

you look at each other lovingly for a moment before ona brings a hand up to cup your face, she glances down at your lips and you inhale eagerly, making her chuckle before she pulled you into a searing kiss.

time seemed to pause at this moment, just the warmth of your breaths and lips mingling unfolding like a gentle melody.

your lips moved tenderly with each other, unlocking the years of whispered promises of love you both never knew you were hoping for. your tongues explored each others mouths and it all felt two familiar, you were soulmates after all.

in that shared moment, the line between friendship and romance faded completely, leaving behind the gentle lull of your now joined heartbeats, the start of forever for the both of you.

—

when you both walked into training the next day with ona’s hand in the small of your back and a gentle kiss to your temple, the room erupted into cheers.

alexia and aitana exchange a high five, a couple of the girls exchanging money making you both laugh brightly at some of the disappointed but happy expressions in the room.

—

when you both went to the world cup and managed to win through a goal from you, ona proclaimed your love then and there, unable to hold it in anymore.

when she pulled you into a loving kiss after that final whistle blew, it was a special moment for tje both of you. especially since you were both fulfilling that promise of bringing home that gold medal.

you and ona’s friendship stood as a witness to the growth and transformation for the both of you. standing as a testament of love that began with the simplicity of a girl kicking a football to you because she thought you looked lonely, forming into a profound and everlasting connection.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you!!

liked by alexiaputellas and 44,232 others

ona.batlle: mi media naranja (my better half)

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yourname: mi onita xx

yourname: mi media naranja (my better half)

↳ ona.batlle: pretty baby

alexiaputellas: you two would be NOTHING without me

↳ aitanabonmati: and me!!

↳ ona.batlle: all you two did was make fun of us

↳ alexiaputellas: worked though, didn’t it?

↳ ona.batlle: …….

↳ yourname: she said thank you!

context!! - mi media naranja: the literal translation is 'to find your half orange. ' when an orange is cut in half, the two halves match each other perfectly, but no other orange half is likely to fit so closely’ essentially meaning - your better half, your soulmate

[flrlgreen]

lights, camera, action (kento nanami x reader) + twt prn links

a/n: been thinking about porn star nanami heavily. (again, i'm tired sorry for any errors.)

cw: fem reader, DADDY KINK, filming, size kink, vaginal sex, use of the names good girl, pretty girl, fingering, reader has a vagina, breeding, unprotected sex, HEAVY dom sub dynamics.

link link link

Kento Nanami was popular, and for good reason. He was damn good at what he did. When you found out you two would be working together your heart fluttered a bit. In this business, you’ve worked with a lot of different people, but Nanami was different. He was one of the most popular, if not THE most popular male adult movie star on the scene right now. 

You felt nervous as you sat in the makeup chair. The soft bristles touched your skin for what seemed like the millionth time until you heard a ‘you’re all done!’ from the makeup artist. “What do you think?”  She asks as you run a hand through your styled hair and look in the mirror in front of you. “I love it. Thank you.” You say and admire your reflection in the mirror.  “I’m glad!” She says and as if on queue the director enters. You spin the chair around to look at him. “Great, you’re done. Nanami is here. Filming starts in 45 minutes.” He says and as quickly as he entered he left. 

You let out a sigh say your thanks to the makeup artist one last time and walk onto the cold sterile set. There was some light chatter before you entered, but when the director and Nanami saw you it all came to a halt. 

Nanami catches your attention immediately. God, this man was TALL. Much bigger than you in every single way, and the fact he was drop-dead gorgeous didn’t help calm your nerves. “Just the girl we were talking about.” The director says. “O-oh! Hi.” You say meekly and walk over to the two men. Nanami smiles when he sees how nervous you are. “Hello, I’m Nanami.” He says and his big hand reaches out to shake yours. 

It was like you had short circuited. Your smaller hand wrapped around his. Fuck, he’s so big. How’s his dick going to fit? You didn’t realize you were shaking his hand without saying anything until you snapped out of your perverted haze. “H-hi! I’m sorry.” You apologize, he doesn’t seem to mind your nervousness. If anything, he thinks it’s cute.

Despite a very awkward start, before you know it you get lost in conversation with your scene partner, and when filming started the acting and fluff before the actual sex scenes didn’t feel as robotic and awkward as they always do with the other men you shoot with. 

But now, it’s time for the actual thing. 

The blonde man was greedily kissing your soft lips while his strong hands roamed your small frame. You were straddling him and grinding on his rock-hard bulge. He let out some moans into the kiss. He kissed you with so much want, and it was unlike anything you had ever experienced on a porn set before. His teeth grazed and tugged on your bottom lip while his hands began to unclasp your bra. 

When your bra hits the bed Nanami pulls away from the intense kiss to admire your plump breasts. “Pretty girl, has such pretty little tits.” He groans before immediately latching onto your hardened bud. 

He sucks on your right nipple while his big hand massages the other one. “D-daddy, fuck. Feels good~” You moan. Making sure to be louder than you usually would be to play it up for the camera. The sounds of light sucking and soft whiny moans fill the room while he works on your tits. “My pretty girl.” He gives each one of your tits one last kiss before turning you on your stomach and getting behind you for the next scene. 

He massages the fat of your ass before his hand starts to dip into your wet panties. “Sweet little Baby is already so wet for me. So fucking cute.” He says as his index finger begins to push your wet panties to the side and prods at your wetness. “I’m so wet for Daddy.” You reply. Your words go straight to his impossibly hard cock. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” He says and shoves a digit in your cunt. He can’t hold himself back anymore.  

“F-fuck!” You yelp while his thick digit goes in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. “Mhm, so fucking tight and wet for Daddy, Baby.” He says while slowly speeding up the movement of his finger before adding another. “Feels so good Daddy. F-fuck.” You look straight into the camera while he works his magic on your pussy with his fingers. The bright lights are shining down on you two illuminating the glistening wetness on his fingers. 

Nanami is very gifted when it comes to pleasuring women. You can tell why he was so popular with other adult actresses. 

He climbs on you while his pointer and middle finger are knuckles deep in you while he bites and licks the shell of your ear while you cry and moan like a whore for the camera. “R-right there!” You cry out when he hits the spot that makes you see stars. “Right here, Baby?” He teases and hits your g spot with his thick fingers. “Yes, Daddy! I can’t!” You cry when he hits your sweet spot over and over. 

He smiles against the shell of your ear and pulls his fingers out of your wetness suddenly. You whine and clench around nothing and before you could even retort, the blonde man turns you on your back and you watch as he brings his two slicked fingers to his mouth. His tongue darts out and licks up the sweet fluid all over his fingers. “You taste good Sweetheart.” He says and licks every last drop of your arousal off of his fingers. 

“Stop,” You cover your face with your hands and try not to look at the man in front of you. “It’s embarrassing Daddy.” You say behind your hands. Nanami smiles and moves your hands away from your face. “Come here, Baby. Taste yourself on my tongue.” He leans in and shoves his strong tongue into your desperate and needy mouth.

The taste of him and your sweet arousal was mind-numbingly good. You suck on his tongue and you can hear him moan into the kiss. You suck every last drop of your arousal out of your scene partner's mouth. When the kiss eventually breaks there’s a long trail of spit connecting you two. “So good, take off that slutty little skirt and panties now.” He demands, his eyes filled with lust. Pupils dilated. 

You obey Nanami and take off your soaked panties along with your short skirt that didn’t really cover much. His gaze stays on your glistening pussy the whole time, even while he takes off his own pants and boxers. When your panties were completely off you admire his pretty cock, but his gaze never left you. 

He was big. No surprise there. The tip leaked  pre cum. It dripped all the way down to his trimmed pubes. “Do you like what you see?” He teases and strokes his cock a couple of times. “Yeah, it’s so big Daddy.” You reply. He laughs. “You sure you can take it?” He says while pushing you flat on your back while nestling between your now spread legs. 

“Mhm~” You say. “Daddy’s girl has such a pretty little cunt.” He says when he gets completely situated between your legs. “So cute,” He hisses before rubbing the tip of his leaking cock head on your wet folds. “Mn- I could cum just from this.” He says continuing to rub the tip up and down occasionally catching your clit and circling it. 

“Daddy put it in. Please. No teasing.” You cry when you feel his warm pre cum smear on your aching clit. “But it’s gonna hurt,” He says, voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Don’t care, need it no- FUCK!” 

The stretch is something you’ve never felt before. All the cocks you’ve taken don't even compare to his. The stretch is so delicious. His cock fills you to the brim and you swear you’ve never felt so full. “So big, oh my fucking god.” You cry while he bottoms out inside your pussy.

“You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.” He hisses and grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder to go deeper. You’re in heaven, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. You feel like you could melt. 

The camera man gets up from his chair. The focus of the camera shifts over to where you two are connected. The way your pussy glistened with wetness under the harsh bright lights made Nanami’s cock twitch inside of you. “Good girl. You’re taking me so well.” He moans while speeding up his thrusts. The camera pans over to your fucked out face. 

You know for a fact you look like a hot mess. Makeup smudged and hair ruined. “I’m so full!” Right when those words escape your mouth Nanami hits your cervix. “I can’t!” You feel like you’re going to pass out in this very bed. 

Nanami pulls his cock out before slamming it back in so many times you can’t count. You weren’t even keeping track of the amount of times he hit that spot inside you. The camera goes back and forth between capturing your face and zooming in on your abused pussy. 

Nanami’s grunts fill the room which tells you he is reaching his peak soon. “Best pussy I’ve ever had. I need to fill you up and breed you.” He grips your thigh and drills you harder than before. From this angle, he was only going deeper with each thrust. “Do you feel good Sweetie?” He asks while sweat drips down his forehead. You can only nod. “I can’t fuck. I’m gonna.” You can feel his whole body tense up while he gets the last of his sloppy thrusts in. 

The camera is on him now. The focus is on his last couple of thrusts. He’s almost whining while he spills his seed inside of you. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to cum that fast.” He huffs and apologizes. “It’s okay Daddy.” You reply as he pulls out. You watch as his thick cock slides out along with his warm cum. “Okay cut!” The director yells. 

(To be continued??? Maybe.)

[not-freyja]

New Zelda Game!

Okay cool, cool cool cool cool, I am calm, I am so fucking calm. Looks like Nintendo is staying true to their word that Wild is not getting another game, so now the questions are, what Link is this, where are we in the Timeline, and what information about the game itself can we pick out of these crumbs?

Whose Zelda is it anyway?

So two options:

New boy.

Legend. It’s fucking Legend again sucks to suck bro

Case for new Link and Zelda:

Less messy for the Lore

That’s it, that is the only argument

Case for Leggy boy and Fable:

LA animation style! While it can be fun to bring back older styles of animation for nostalgia/artistic reasons, that seems like a poor choice for *LOZ* games, which are always on the edge of what a game can do. Moving “backwards,” so to speak, in any aspect, would be a disservice to the franchise. However, doing it to maintain consistency for a particular character, and to use the animation style to make sure the audience knows this is the same character from LA is a very simple but effective tactic.

The map! So that shot was so BOTW and so fun, but the view we got wasn’t just recognizable as “Hyrule,” is was, down to the relative heights on the mountain cliffs against each other, the map from ALTTP/ALBW. Nintendo has never repeated a map without it being the same Link. So! Checkmate motherfuckers.

The character designs. That… that was just Legend and Fable, come on. Look at the dress. Every Zelda has a slightly different costume design, and that was hers. Look at Link. Baby boy!

I want this. Let me have it.

Timeline positioning

Okay so if we assume that this is in fact Legend, the next question becomes, “When is it?” Leggy boy currently has 5 games that are canonically his. (Triforce Heroes could be a random other Link, so while we like to say 6 we can’t *prove it.*) So. Let’s break it down.

ALTTP: canonically his first game, can’t be before this one.

Oracles: canonically happen after ALTTP, and he is very much still a child in here.

LA: the game this one is artistically modeled after. Narratively this fits nicely right after Oracles, and in the canon timeline, fits between Oracles and ALBW, so I think a whole new game being crowbarred prior to this one would be… not great for the narrative.

ALBW: This is trickier. No canon time between LA and ALBW is given, it could be a week, it could be years. It is entirely possible that Echoes of Wisdom occurs prior to ALBW, which would make it a direct sequel to LA, which makes the art style make even more sense. It could also be after?

…hang on a fucking minute, lets get the fucking map.

Left, ALTTP. Right, ALBW

Basically the same map! Duh, it’s the same Hyrule. But. BUT. Bottom right, in the lake. Do you see that?!

ALTTP: no log bridge. ALBW: Log bridge. Now, let’s look at the pretty picture from the EOW trailer.

NO FUCKING LOG BRIDGE!

This is before ALBW. Therefore, the game order for The Hero of Legend is

ALTTP, OOS, OOA, LA, EOW, ALBW, TH(maybe)

*cue manic laughter*

Lore Implications

Ganon.

There being a Ganon at all actually has me pointing my finger at the Oracle games and screaming. The TL;DR in those is that there was a plot to resurrect Ganon, each game Twinrova gets closer, but Link stops them. Now, there were also supposed to be three of those games, which means that it is entirely possible that the third unseen Oracle plot—please Nintendo let Link and Farore hang out, I am on my knees barking like a dog—could have resulted in his resurrection. This is the only explanation I have that doesn’t break the Lore or involve Time Shenanigans.

Also, Link does KO the bitch in that opening scene in the trailer. His presence is either just that—a set-up plot point—or him and Link are currently duking it out in the hole. Fun!

Link and Zelda

Now this game is going to put their relationship in the front in the “I have to save them because I love them” way that we usually see from Link’s POV.

Getting it from Zelda’s POV is going to be very interesting. We might be getting a look into her head, into her feelings and thoughts about the whole ordeal of the Legend itself. I hope so. But also, this isn’t just Link and Zelda, this is *Fable and Legend* specifically. The two that were meant to be be siblings but the dialogue that established them as such was cut from the final version of ALTTP. So. This game has the possibility to do three things

Canonize the Prince Legend thing, like they were going to do in the nineties.

Not address the topic at all, leave it nebulous.

Zelink.

None of these are bad choices, but option two is definitely the safest. Both options one and three will cause an uproar from part of the fan base. I can already see the ship wars. Please don’t do this people. Please.

The Holes 🕳️

What are they? Where did they come from? Ganon’s Trident Where do they go? No actually, where do they go? The Dark World (doesn’t make sense in the Lore)? Lorule (that would be a choice)? The Twilight Realm (I am convinced that Lorule and the Twilight Realm are the same place actually and you cannot change my mind)? Some new never seen before parallel dimension? A non-place, like a gap between realities (sexiest option)? I have no idea!

Fun!

That fucking “Fairy”

Tri? Don’t trust it. Will not trust it. Never trust that a companion in a LOZ game is what they first appear to be. Who does Nintendo take me for? A fucking amateur?!

Anyway, I am about 40% convinced that’s Link. I have evidence, but it is circumstantial.

I AM HANDLING THIS NORMALLY.

[apomaro-mellow]

I finally wrote about stobin carhops

“I can’t believe we got another job using one resume”, Steve said.

“I can’t believe you said we were managers at Scoops”, Robin said.

“How are they gonna check, Robs?”

“Good point. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The new job at a local burger joint was decidedly in the ballpark of both of their abilities. The only drawback for Robin was....the skates.

“So these are a requirement? Not like, a suggestion?”, she asked, looking at the roller skates warily. Steve was already lacing up.

“They are in fact a requirement”, Cheryl, their current manager said.

Robin slipped and slid while on wheels. Which was why for about 90% of their first shift, she rolled along arm in arm with Steve.

“What’s even the point of having someone skate your food to you? I mean it seems like a total novelty. Purely for shits and giggles for customers.”

“You nailed it. It’s novelty.” As they rolled around the lot, Steve used the hand that was free to deliver food to the different cars. Robin used her free hand to write down the orders.

This system worked for about a week before Cheryl told them they couldn’t do that anymore. The very next day, Robin dropped five orders (two of which were on purpose) and was removed from her carhop responsibilities.

She kept her post at the register and the pick up window.

The uniform consisted of a white polo-style shirt with red accents. Most of the staff wore red pants to match. Some of the girls beat the heat with red shorts though.

“What are you wearing?”, Robin asked when Steve clocked in one day in those very same shorts.

“Uh, the uniform?”

“Uh-huh. Feelin’ the heat lately?”

“It’s been pretty warm the past few days”, Steve said.

“And I best the change has nothing to do with the fact Eddie said he’d be by on your lunch break today.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Steve tried to look neutral but his voice was way too chipper for someone who had to smell grease this early in the morning.

Robin knew for sure Eddie had arrived. She didn’t have a full view of the lot when she was at the register but she did see Steve lose control and skate right into a light pole. That could only mean Eddie was nearby. She let them have their lunch alone, knowing they would be sickeningly lovey-dovey the whole time.

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

“You know....”, Steve started. “I bet Vickie would lose it if you were in shorts.”

“Actually, she said my teeth are my best feature”, Robin smiled wide.

“You two are so weird”, Steve laughed through it while mopping the floor.

“This from the guy who spent two whole hours staring at his boyfriend’s hands.”

“I didn’t-”

“TWO HOURS!”

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

Steve let out a sigh when he saw that Eddie had driven Erica along as well.

“You already know”, Erica said. “Chocolate vanilla swirl.”

“Erica, I know I said free ice cream for life but-”

“But nothing. You thought you could get out of it by switching jobs. But karma always finds its way back.”

“I don’t think me working at a fast food place is karma. Right?”, Steve looked to Eddie, like he was worried this really was the work of cosmic forces.

“I don’t know...” Eddie leaned out of his open window to get a better look at Steve’s legs. “Feels like karma to me.”

Steve grinned when he noticed being checked out and leaned in towards the window. He opened his mouth but Erica beat him to it.

“You can flirt when you’re not on the clock. Ice cream. Chop chop!”

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

It was a slow day for once, so Robin and Steve were sitting on the hood of his car, sharing some fries between them.

“What do you think our next job is gonna be?”, Steve asked.

“I think after this we should branch out. Maybe go for the federal government? Or at least look for managerial positions.”

“Would a place hire two managers at once?”

“One for the day shift and one for the night?”, Robin said, pointing at herself for day and Steve for night.

“But then we’re not gonna see each other.”

“Shoot, you’re right. What about working as mail carriers? You drive, I’ll put them in the box.”

“That’s actually perfect.”

“Great!”, Robin exclaimed. “So when this place burns down or gets destroyed by a quake-”

“Or a flood, or a tornado, or another fire-”

“Point is, we already know what our fallback is. And it’s perfect because everybody always needs mail.”

“It’s kind of crazy how we’ve never been fired. And that our past work places have been leveled”, Steve said. “I really think we could put anything on our resumes at this point.”

“Lemme get a couple of college credits before we start lying to get better jobs.”

“So another couple of months?”

“And you’ll be talking to the new CEO of something or other.”

“Co-CEO”, Steve reminded her, holding up a medium soda.

“Co-CEOs”, Robin tapped hers to his in a toast.

@little-gae-shit

[fictionstudent]

Novels are not movies.

Visual media has taken on the world by storm. It’s the next big thing in the evolution of humanity, maybe. It’s quite certainly changed the way we entertain ourselves. And with the recent spread of short-form content, visual media has also become cheap, disposable, and easily accessible to the masses—perfect recipe to make a product famous.

Alright, I’ve been a little too dramatic, lol. But for real, I’m one of those who’s severely addicted to Instagram Reels. Whenever I’m done scrolling, I feel like I’ve completely wasted my time—I could have read a novel, watched a movie, or caught up with my favorite mangas. But instead of all those ways to relax—and believe me (pwlease) that I only open Insta to relax, when I’m free—I just waste my time.

I love my novels and manga, mind ya, so when I catch myself wasting precious time that I could have instead used to consume them, I cuss myself. And then I go scroll some more Insta, because I’m an absolute idiot.

Anyway, back to the topic. Visual media has absolutely taken over our lives. I won’t go into the debate of whether this is a good thing or not, but we all can agree that it’s an undeniable fact. Video is everywhere.

Because—and lemme repeat myself—it’s cheap, disposable, and easily accessible today.

And because of such exposure to video storytelling, beginning authors forget that novels are not a visual medium. Yep, here goes my rant.

***

#01 - The Problem

The problem is simple—these kids have too much access to their smartphones. And these smartphones are filled with videos, like a dustbin with its lid hanging on because of all that garbage overfilling it. (Damn, I sound like a boomer.)

And therefore, when these new authors begin writing, they can’t help but imagine a sort of movie or a TV show as their story. And that’s where the problem is—novels are not supposed to be movies.

Movies are a visual media. That means they’re composed of pictures. Images. But guess what novels are composed of?

Text. Words.

It seems pretty basic. I mean, everybody knows this distinction. But what they don't know, however, are the implications of this distinction.

Personally, I began writing with film-novels too. And those novels are bad. Genuinely. I cringe at the fact that I could even mail editors and believe they’d accept them. Good thing they never did.

What’s a film-novel, though? Well, the idea is pretty clear—it’s a novel, but imagined in the form of a film. So, it’s like a film, but in text.

It’s like you’ve written the film as a novel, instead of writing it as a screenplay or something, maybe.

But you’d ask me—why? Why is it even a mistake? Everybody has a different writing style. And to that, I’d tell you one thing—the audience. The audience is different. The media is different. You can’t expect a cinephile to read your book. And since it’s not like a professional novel, a (Googles the correct term) bibliophile certainly won't.

So, who’s gonna read your story?

No one—because it’s neither a film, nor a novel. It’s a film-novel, an illogical mix of the two.

Everyone drinks water, and everyone likes ice-cream. But you can't… No, I’m not even completing that sentence. Ew.

Anyway, you get the idea, lol.

***

#02 - Identify

So, what does a film-novel even look like?

And for that, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you,

The lean figure was standing on the other side of the railing three floors up on the ground of the school building where children below were shouting and kicking football upon each other, wearing white football jerseys. The figures, as they ran all over the ground, seemed very small as I looked at them. The goalkeeper of the right side, who was just beneath my white shoe, kicked the ball so hard that it flew in air and went directly to the other foot of mine. The other players shouted “Whoaaa!” as they saw the ball flying. But suddenly, two of them looked upwards and saw me. One of them pointed towards me and then shouted, “Hey, who’s he?!” All the other players started walking towards that boy who was in the middle of the field with their heads tilted up above on me. Another one shouted, “Hey! What’cha doin’, eh?!” My narrow eyes, which had dark spots beneath them, looked at the boys from behind my spectacles. I then moved my head a little up and saw my shiny gakuran jacket fluttered by my shiny yellow colored buttons as the wind started blowing from my left side. I was able to feel the wind dancing upon my soft skin as I closed my eyes and turned my head upwards. I took a deep breath, and then exhaled it out with my mouth. I then again took a breath. This time, when I exhaled it out with my mouth, I was able to feel the saliva of my mouth upon my lips. I tilted my head and turned towards my arm, which was trembling a little. Both of my hands were still holding the railing of the school’s rooftop. I then turned left and then looked on my other arm. “Hey! Get down!” One of the persons from beneath shouted. I turned my narrowed eyes towards the ground, the teachers, a large gang of footballers and students, and some even workers had gathered in a circle. I turned my head towards the front. I looked at a couple of brown colored and blue-green colored houses in front of me, which stood high and mighty. Beneath them was the clear blue sky.

A wall of text!

Warning: you don’t really need to read all of it. But you probably did, lol.

Anyway, it’s the opening scene from one of my first novels. And, as much as I hate to say this—it’s pretty sh*t. It has a lot of problems—no paragraph divisions, for example, as well as a lot of grammatical mistakes too. But the biggest problem with the text is that it’s just images.

Reading this text, I dare you to highlight one single sentence that might tell you anything about the narrator.

The narrator is narrating the motions, not the emotions.

(Damn, that was a dope line to say, man.)

The narrator is only telling you about the images and actions and dialogues and thoughts. Even though it’s in first-person POV, you feel distant from the narrator. And, even in third-person POV, authors are supposed to make sure the distance between the narrator and the reader remains at a minimum.

That’s how you get a film-novel—that’s filled with scene-descriptions, actions, and dialogues. There’s no narrations in it. The readers don’t know the thoughts of these characters.

***

#03 - Is it really a problem, though?

Well, you might ask me—is it really such a big problem?

Heck yeah.

The reason is pretty simple, actually—no one wants to read a film-novel. These novels are filled with only descriptions and actions—that’s too much of mental effort. these novels make their readers keep on imagining stuff, and no reader wants to do that.

Because it’s easier to look at pictures than to imagine them based on text. And that’s why your film-novels won’t work.

See, you need to understand this—novels are different than film. Sure, novels are a form of storytelling too, and they do include visual effort, such as descriptions, action, and all that. But, all that is not the main selling point of a novel.

The main selling point of a novel is the emotions. Emotions captured in words, in situations—caught in context like a butterfly in a child’s hand. Films can display emotions, but novels put those emotions into words.

Narration is what forms the greatest part of a novel. Narration is where a novel actually shines. Narration is what the readers come to read.

And, as you could guess, films don’t narrate. Consider this,

And rain made him feel like crying. He gulped down, trying to keep the lump of his throat in check. He couldn’t cry in the middle of so many other kids. They’ll ask questions, and what will he say to them, huh?

He was sorry.

For what?

For everything he did. And for everything he didn’t.

The day had just begun. It’d be long before it ends, y’know. He just couldn't wait for it to end. There was no lifting up his mood. Not until tomorrow.

How do you display this in a film? The answer—you can't. However hard you try, you can't.

Such narrations are where the art of novels shine. Such narrations are what differentiates a novel from a visual media.

***

#04 - Is it really a problem, though? (pt.ii)

All this talk constantly reminds me of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. It’s a literary achievement and really experimental in a lot of stuff that it does. For example, the novel has no dashes or apostrophes—and it’s not like these punctuation marks were not needed, they’re just not used. So, you’d find a lot of grammatical mistakes throughout the text.

And also, one thing that McCarthy ignored—and that’s relevant to the discussion we’re having—is that there’s literally zero narration. Zero.

McCarthy adopts a style that’s similar to a third-person POV, and is kinda like how I used to write when I was little—just with paragraphs and better scene-descriptions and action-descriptions. A lot better, as you can observe if you read his work.

Anyway, he didn’t have any narrative elements in his text. So the readers don’t really know what these characters are thinking or planning to do. They just know that these characters are somehow surviving.

I don’t wanna give away most of the plot of the novel, but the basic premise of the novel is that there’s a father-son duo who’s been caught in this apocalypse-type situation, and are traveling down the road to the south part of the country to escape the harsh winters that the north experiences. The novel doesn’t reveal a lot—the readers don’t know the names of these characters, the thoughts of the characters are hidden most of the time, and you don’t know what actually happened that most of humanity is dead and society is completely gone.

Now, McCarthy did it for a reason. A scarcity of punctuation marks reflects a form of scarcity in the scenery around them. Because most of it is, well, gone. Humanity is gone, and stuff is decaying. You don’t find fresh food anymore. Scavenge all you want—one day, all the canned food will expire, and there will be nothing to eat. Except fruits and veggies, that need to be grown somewhere. And nobody likes the latter, honestly.

And the scene-descriptions are so tough to read. They’re an actual pain. I have had a really hard time deciphering most of it, because the vocab is too high, and probably the sentences do not flow into each other easily. I can’t say anything about the sentences if I don’t understand them, y’know.

But, man, maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Maybe that’s why McCarthy wrote the descriptions in this way—to symbolize the mental stress that the characters go through as they experience this world, this form of reality that they were not meant to be in.

And maybe the novel is so lacking in narrations because the characters’ minds have gone numb. They’re forgetting language. With almost zero human interaction most of the time, they are forgetting how to think and interact in words. You lose the skills you don’t really use anymore, y’know. And these guys are so obviously depressed, so they don’t think about the world. They are used to the sad reality they live in. No point in complaining how bad the food is if that’s all you’re gonna eat all your life.

So, a scarcity of narrations tell you a lot about the story and its characters. It reflects something, it symbolizes something. The Road is a masterfully crafted piece of prose, please don’t get inspired to write in this style just because. This style won’t work on most of the stories.

Yeah, just because he wrote like this means you can too. Let me tell you, dear reader, that all of what we call rules are meant to be broken. Nothing is absolute. But here’s the catch—you can’t break the rules just because you don’t know how to apply them.

Authors need to learn these rules, because that’s what constitutes most of the written prose. That’s what forms the basics of the craft. So, learn them, understand them, and know how to use them. And then make a conscious decision not to use them.

See, these rules are like tools or weapons in your arsenal. And you need to keep your arsenal ready for everything. And then, you can decide which weapon to use, when to use it, and how to use it. Because you don’t know what sort of idea hits your head next and you’d suddenly need some of them.

***

#04 - Solution

So, how to make sure your novel actually comes off as a novel and not a film-novel? Unfortunately, the answer to that question… is that I don't know.

I know this sounds so absurd, but it is what it is. As someone who’s so recently started studying prose, I know this problem exists, but I still don’t know how to fix it. You could say I know my novels are film-novels, and I’m trying to fix it. But I, personally, am having a lot of trouble with it.

However, one way I can recommend is to write from your character’s POV, not your POV. You probably imagined your story as a film, but that’s now how you’re supposed to write it. Get into your characters’ head, see what they’re seeing, and write that.

But it’s tough. For me, at least. I always find myself going back to my old ways, and I think I need to re-write almost all of my scene-descriptions and actions because of it.

Lol, how ironic.

***

Conclusion

Yeah, and that’s it. I hope you liked this blog. Sorry I hadn’t posted in along while, I was going through a writers’ block. Stuff is happening these days, y’know.

Anyway, I’ll see you again in a couple of days, with something new. Bye-byee!

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - I'm having a GREAT time

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Aug 2024 Week 5

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 7-8 of 12 - I do love these 2 a lot. It’s such a slow burn sweet comforting quiet little romance. It’s not complicated, it’s not stretching my thoughts or imagination, but it is easy and absorbing. I'm entertained by it without being taxed. And sometimes that’s nice. It's what Thailand does best.

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 3 of 10 - Oh I’m still enjoying it. It’s only episode three and they’re basically boyfriend’s palling around shopping together and hanging out on a bicycle. What’s not to love? Also he got to meet the in-laws. Well… eventual in-laws. Also the girlfriend character. I totally forgot about her. Good times.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 12fin - Baby faints. Bad guys caught and beat up a bit. Lots of romantic moments, come checking in with ALL the sides, and it ends.

Summary?

Classic CEO meets ingenue archetypes make for a somewhat banal and simplistic romance. This could’ve come from an 80s Harlequin, except that they’re gay. It's... old fashioned. There was nothing meta about this, there was no subversion or commentary on anything BL, queer, or beyond. It’s just a straight up (okay not straight) romance. I was not wild about these characters for this particular pair, but that’s not the pair's fault, they did a decent job with their parts and I look forward to their next show - here’s hoping it’s a bit more meaty. I preferred the side couple because they were more complex and true to BL archetypes, even if they were also a bit miss-handled. A serviceable show if somewhat lacking in its convictions, but with some beautiful sex scenes, people, and fashion. I was a particular fan of Lin‘s gender bending femme style. It’s groundbreaking to see that aesthetic on one of the leads. There were multiple times they could’ve leaned into well established plot points, paranormal elements, and character tension, and instead just glossed over them.

This should probably get a 7/10, but I’m giving it an 8 because of that one oppa line at the beginning, Tenon's tatas, and the call back to Big Dragon with that iconic musical refrain in the final episode. It was a pretty fun ride, emphasis on pretty and ride. 

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 5 of 12 - Lots of kissing this episode. And lots of different kinds of kissing from the same two actors in various different forms and characters. I really liked it. It’s nice to see that this pair can mix it up a little bit, even if it's just with their lips.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 7 of 12 - OK the leg care massage was so boyfriend I can’t even. Who are they trying to fool? I love the way Ing always knows exactly what is going on. Thank goodness for that confession! I’m very much looking forward to the next episode.

(The socratic method, is it?)

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 9 of 12 - Still couldn’t care less about the hets. Yawn. Ah Jane’s ex shows up. (Is that Green? Hi baby!) Meanwhile, Jane gets worried and jealous. I loved Pah in this ep, and almost wish this were a show just about him. Like a grown-up Green Fictions. (Where tf did Poon COME from allasudden? He’s a killer actor. GMMTV better use him wisely.) Also, in that scene with Pat and P’Jo, they’re eating some of my favorite food. I got a little bit of linguistic negotiation with Khun Par Phi. Cuteness. And we end with some actual communication. Yay!!! It’s kind of hilarious to see OffGun in a tentative hug. I don’t think they’ve been that way for a years.

In fact, this whole episode was pretty much about communicating properly between ages and ranks within an office and social structure. I loved that. I’m liking this one more this week. It’s still not my favorite currently airing, but I think that mostly has to do with how much other good stuff is on right now.

SPEAKING OF...

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 3-4 of 12 - Uh huh, a game of one-up-man-ship is it? I think not. That boy wants to jump his cute stepbrother’s bones so bad that big brain of his is starting to melt. I'm here for it. Also, said sunshine cutie is clearly a big old cock tease. Everybody is happy about this. They sure know how to end these episodes on cliffhangers too. I don’t know how I’m gonna wait until next week.

I’m legit mad about how fucking good this is. After Unknown too?! Taiwan is spoiling us this year and THEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN DOING IT ALL ALONG.

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 3-4 of 10 - Oh my goodness do I love this show. It makes me laugh, I adore the premise, I'm wild over the characters, and the acting is killer. I’m just really happy about this show, OK? I tend to sing and clap: Oh they so cute.

Baby got his first crush and he has no idea what to do about it. I ADORE how angry he is about it. Like... How dare I even consider falling in love with somebody? How annoying of me. It’s great. I even liked the girl in the confession and how cool and sweet they both were to each other over his rejection. Bang up job. This is fantastic BL of the newer modern style. (As contrasted to On1y)

These top two shows are neck and neck for best of the week, for entirely different reasons. But I love all my sons.

Speaking of...

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 7-8 fin - Oh it’s so adorable with the drama and the little subordinate coming to their rescue, and them meeting each other’s family. "I want to become someone who is essential in your life" = peak romance.

Summation?

I loved this little show. It was a classic office BL about the older workaholic who loves his job and the younger upstart who unexpectedly loves his boss. It’s a hyung romance where everybody is extremely earnest and sweet and pretty about everything. Except our seme, who is slightly unhinged and a little obsessed in all the ways one likes best from Japan. Plus the kisses were good! I can’t ask for anything more, utterly charming unexpected gem of a show. What a great time! 9/10

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 11 of 12 - The lack of communication between these 2 may actually drive me insane. But I still love them. Such a sad ep. 

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 3 of 8 - Argh but also oooooo. I bet the uncut version was fantastic this week.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 5-6 of 12 - I'm starting to like this better. I’m still not convinced, but I did enjoy watching it this week. I’m getting some chemistry off the leads. Admittedly. that’s because they both behave like 16-year-olds. Surprise MosBank cameo - looking handsome as ever, boys. (Honestly, Taiwan really wants that King of the Cameos crown.) And FINALLY our side couple. I’m looking forward to next week primarily because of them. And I don’t even have them yet!

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - OK the lap cuddle was v cute. As was the handholding. But hiking with a metal griddle? Insanity. Might be the craziest thing in a BL this year. And The Sign aired this year. Meanwhile, not a dead fish kiss! Yay! 

It's airing but...

4 Minutes (Sat Gaga) eps 1-6 of 8 - Gaga picked this one up so we can watch it there. I'm waiting until the end, it seems angsty and confusing and full of awful people being awful. But also... high heat and I'm shallow. So we shall see which devil wins (and how it ends).

In case you missed it

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. It's just taking me some time. This isn't really a bingable show, not for me anyway. It's A LOT to take all at once.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Coming SEPTEMBER 2024:

9/? The Time of Fever (Korea iQIYI) 6 eps - HoTae & DongHee are back! Side couple from Unintentional Love Story, same actors, same character names I an WILD for this.

9/1 Live in Love (Thai Sun Gaga) 5 eps - Short series featuring and online romance turning IRL.

9/3 Happy of the End (Japan Tues Gaga) - Based on a manga, longer than usual run time. A boy is disowned for being gay, dumped by his boyfriend, and ends up in a dysfunctional co-dependant relationship with his would-be kidnapper. We were due for another messy JBL. Here it is!

9/6 Kidnap (Thai Friday GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - Ohm Pawat is back for Frigays it's gonna be a blast.

9/7 The Hidden Moon (Thai Sat ????) 10 eps - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) ‘เดือนพราง’ by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger)... A Bangkok writer is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai which is being converted into a café. He gets into an accident and nearly dies on his way there. After that, he sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, one boy catches his attention. Was substantially recast.

9/9 Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) 12 eps? - Be gay YinWar, do crimes. Dehup gives us Yin, War, Mark and a few other familiar faces in a Leverage sitch, only queerer.

9/14 Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sat ????) ?? eps - Remake of the original. I'm scared too.

9/15 Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - Assistant to a player boss who is in love with that boss decides to quit to save himself. The boss then makes a move. (A gay What's up with Secretary Kim?)

9/17 Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 10 eps - Lawyer and a con artist meet at a bar, pair up, fall in love.

9/28 Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YouTube) ?? eps - oh I don't know just Ba Vinh doing his thing with pretty boys again.

Adventures in miss-captions

(been a while since we had one of these)

SNICKER "nail you" and a "nail you down" = completely different things. But this being Japan they might have met either or both. (Cosmetic)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Why yes, you do have the prettiest lips in the biz. No need to tease us like that. (Battle)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Never Say Die

You are here | part two | part three | part four

I can’t get this concept out of my head steve being a prisoner instead of hopper and coming back home.

Steve sat in the back of the car, unsure what to expect. Six months. Six months he hasn’t seen his friends, who he considered to be his family if anything. He wished he could say that it had been six months since the last time he seen his parents but that would be a lie. Strange how he could place the date and times when he last seen his real family but yet he didn’t know when he last seen his parents. It was a chilling thought. He doesn’t remember being this nervous about seeing his parents for the first time in a long, long time.

Then again this was under different circumstances. Last time he seen Dustin, Robin and Erica it had looked like he had died. The last time he seen Hopper and Joyce, both of them had been trying to reach them from god knows where with their own personal Russian translator. Now, when he steps out of this car his new life will begin. One that was much different compared to before he “died”.

He was stunned if anything. He doesn’t know how he survived. He had thought the torture he had endured at star court, tied to a chair was bad. Little did he know, the Russians got very creative in their homeland. His body sometimes still aches from his time there. Though, he’s been through hell and back nothing was more scarier then seeing his family again. What if they were different, what if they didn’t want him back? All questions that were bothering him. All questions that disappear the the second he he sees all of the kids gathered together in a drive way. Smiling and laughing as they all help the Byers unpack their boxes into a nicer home then what they had lived in before.

He smiles to himself. He’s unsure if they were told he was coming. He stops the agent in front of him from stepping out. To break the moment he was watching. Lucas was laughing as he carefully holds one hand on the back of Max’s back. Crutches under her armpits as she leans on on foot. Her other leg in a cast, along with one of her wrists. Both of them talking to each other in a way that told him they made it through the little dispute from six months ago. Off to the right of them, stepping out of the van carrying boxes was Jonathan. Handing them to Nancy, who was smiling brightly up at him. Mouth moving as she talked. Next to them, in a bean bag sat a boy with long silky hair. Obviously stoned off his ass as he wore a button down shirt eating pizza. Steve wanted to hear some of what they were saying, he pulls his window down just a smidge to catch Jonathan laughing.

“You know, the pizza was supposed to motivate you helping us carry our stuff in.” Hes looking at the other with a smirk. Steve chuckles softly to himself before his eyes move over seeing Will sitting on the hood of a car. Talking to El, who seemed to have lost all process in her hair growth. Both of them huddled together and talking with serious expressions. Both of their faces cracking into smiles when Mike comes walking over to them. There’s something awkward going on there but it seemed like they were all friends.

The front door of the house opens further, and Steve’s heart stops. Breathing not in his dictionary anymore as he watches Robin Buckley walk out with flying hands. God it was so her, though what takes him by surprise was the fact she was wearing his letterman jacket. How the hell she got a hold of it was beyond him. Then again Dustin must have told her where the key of his house was hidden. Let her in and it warms his heart in a way that doesn’t even make sense to know she wanted something that was his. Her hair is in a Bob and she’s yelling at someone. That someone showing his presence, walking out behind her. Steve’s in a near heart attack and near tears when he sees Henderson walking out with a cap on. Hair styled in the way that he had showed him, a hat firmly placed on the top of his head. Mouth moving a mile per minute. Talking right back to Robin. Even from here Steve knew the kid was being obnoxious.

“Come on Robin. It’s not that bad, right Eddie.” The boy turns. Looking for confirmation from Eddie the freak Munson. And Steve really shouldn’t be that shocked that Dustin would find a friend in a drug dealer. If there was trouble in Hawkins, Henderson sure as hell would find it. Steve’s about to freak out, but stops when he sees the amused look on the metal heads face. His hair was much longer then what he remembered it being.

“Sorry dude. Im with Robbie on this one.” Eddie moves a hand playfully moving the others head on his shoulders. None of them noticing the suspicious car on the other side of the street. Next came Joyce, whose hand was wrapped tightly in Hoppers. That was not a shock to see at all. Both of them laughing as they look around at the children. Like Steve had.

As expected, Hoppers eyes land on the car. His face going a bright red as he lets go of Joyce’s hand. Storming forward catching everyone’s attention. Breaking the peace as he looks like he’s ready to kill someone. “Get the hell away from my property. Don’t need the god damn government spying on my daughter. Last warning, next time I’ll -“ his words die in his throat as Steve steps out of the car. Hoppers back blocking the view of everyone behind him.

Steve looks at him with a amused look, holding his side. Body still recovering from his stint in another country. “Wow, nice welcoming home gift hopper.” He laughs. Coughing a little from the bruised rib. Though the bruised rib is nearly the least of his worries as Hopper pulls him into a bear hug.

“Never got a chance to thank you for saving Joyce and the kids. Considering the fact you fucking died.” Hopper gruffly rasps. “Everyone’s going to freak you know.” He warns.

“I know.” Steve says softly. Stepping back with a tight smile.

“Hopper what’s going on?” Joyce is now walking over. Obviously warning the kids to go inside. All of them complaining and bickering as they do. Steve could hear them. Her face pulls into a shocked expression when she sees Steve. “Oh my god.” She gasps as she moves nearly tackling him.

“What is it mom?” Jonathan’s voice is heard from the van.

“Everyone inside now.” Joyce yells. Helping hopper hide steve from everybody. They knew that the second they all seen him, the neighbors attention would be all over them. Something that they didn’t need was for everyone talking about how a whole group of people started sobbing in the middle of the drive way. That and Steve Harrington was supposed to be dead. Word got around, that was all they would need.

When he hears the front door closing Joyce finally looks at him. Looks right through him actually. “Oh god what did they do to you.” She sounded in pain as her hand cups his face. All of them still standing in the middle of the road. Only remembering where they were when a car try’s coming through. Hopper quickly thinks as he pulls off his ugly Hawaiian shirt. Quickly tossing it over Steve’s head. Who starts to gag.

“Oh my god you stink. I shared a cell with a guy who had stomach issues and you somehow stink more then our toilet.” He gags, being dragged up the driveway. Letting Joyce’s hand wrap around his as she moves him to what he assumes is the front door.

“Shut up-“ hopper rasps out.

“Honey, everyone’s going to freak out. Are you ready for this?” Joyce sounded like she was crying herself. Hand shaking in his. Steve felt like his world was just beginning again. Rotating, revolving whatever the earth does. It was happening again for him.

“Yeah.. yeah I’m ready.”

Im thinking about doing a part two though I’m unsure. If I did write more, it would be eventual Steddie. I don’t know if I should though 😭 should I?

[jeding-png]

Enjoy chapter 153 cuz next week there is a break—

Bon appetit, dear readers~

Today's chapter is just as delicious as the previous two, but this time, SUOL-nim has blessed us with a break from crying.

Let's start with Derrick and Ivonne's conversation!

In the novel, this conversation should have happened earlier, that is, we observe a similar situation as in chapters 86 and 87 (if I'm not mistaken, the conversation between Penelope and Reynold was also shown there at a different time).

Little Eckhart siblings and Ivonne holding Derrick's hand... it's so cute, especially in such colors—

In the preview for the chapter, it was written that each brother spends time with his sister. That is, Derrick spends time with Ivonne, who has finally returned, and Reynold spends time with Penelope (in the chapter, there are quite funny frames with them).

I'm actually a bit moved by the Derrick and Ivonne moment, but especially the frame with the three Eckhart siblings. Because you can see how Derrick blames himself for everything that happened. It can be seen that he has not accepted the loss of his younger sister for years, unlike the Duke and Reynold.

Yes, Derrick even has tea with her on the day of Penelope's coming-of-age ceremony—

But what is interesting is that the entire chapter did not show us Ivonne's emotions and gaze. Seriously. Therefore, it seems as if the stories where the girl from the stories about the disappearance of the real daughter are different from the one who actually returned.

Congratulations to Ivonne for finally being able to wash her hair outside of the sea and change her clothes!

But back to the coming of age ceremony!!

Did you want to see Penelope in a tiara? It's time! Look how beautiful she is!!

I like the fact that Winter's necklace was indeed, as written in the novel, slightly superfluous for Penelope's image. Mostly, it seems so because of its gray color, in contrast to the pastel blue colors of other decorations.

Magic works in this world, so the petals that resemble the same Elenvik flowers don't just fall out of nowhere, lol.

In the novel, it was said that Reynold even raised their hands even higher so that all the guests could see and have no doubt that the brother and sister had a good relationship, which also prompted an increase in Penelope's reputation.

I can't put into words how impressed I am with the costumes of the characters. Indeed. They look just fantastic. I especially liked Reynold's costume. The peculiarity is that SUOL-nim always draws outfits that have exactly the same style. That is, a certain element of clothing that we can see and immediately recognize for which character it is.

Also, I'm glad to see the same Reynold's ring that was in the first chapters of the manhwa again, haha. No wonder it is on the middle finger—

But nevertheless, in my opinion, this is an important moment of the chapter!

A conversation between Reynold and Penelope mentions the moment they last met, when Reynold was brainwashed.

Somehow you see what a mouth is for and that it can be used for talking and not just for kissing. Isn't that right, dear Callisto and Penelope?

You see images that were real and from the point of view of a brainwashed Reynold. He didn't act as if he deliberately wanted to reprimand Penelope, but on the contrary, to stop her.

Penelope sees Reynold and realizes that he is at least now brainwashed.

And now the moment I've been waiting for for a very long time!..

YES, THESE ARE THE SAME RABBITS THAT REYNOLD GAVE PENELOPE!

In the next chapter, there will be a rather interesting conversation about how Reynold tried to make a rabbit the color of Penelope's eyes. It's really cute moments between them.

But look at the similarities and differences between Derrick's and Reynold's gifts.

they both presented living beings;

both have similarities with Penelope's appearance colors: Derrick gave a bird the color of her hair, and Reynold tried to create a rabbit with the color of his sister's eyes;

different subtext and symbolism of gifts;

the bird has no one to communicate with, it is alone in the cage, and there are many rabbits, and they are quite fragile, but when they hatch, they are unlikely to live in a cage.

In this chapter, I smiled, while Penelope hardly did, if not at all. The chapter is over on the rabbits... so anyone who wanted to see Callisto, he will be in two weeks :'D

[rafesgoldrings]

what about Rafe has a girlfriend but he's only with her because he wants her bestfriend *drumroll* the reader

Going to tweak this just a tad bit while still keeping the original concept, I hope you enjoy it! I’m also in such a sappy mood that it’s gross😭

She knows he wants you. She can see it in the way he glances at you when he thinks she’s not looking, the way he lights up when you’re around, the hugs that last a few seconds longer than they should. And she knows you like him, maybe she was too into him to notice at first, maybe you’d always had a crush on him but never told anyone, but she sees it now. Sees how your expression mirrors his when you see each other and act like nobody else is around, how you seem to know every little detail about him and all his favorite things, how you’re the one that always knows what’s going on in his life. And really it’s no surprise, the two of you had known each other longer than she knew you, everyone always talked about how it was going to be Y/N and Rafe. You would get married, start a family, and be the next big thing on the island. But the two of you seemed to be oblivious to the others feelings, insisting you were just friends if anyone questioned you, and she knew she had to do something. You were her best friend and while she did like Rafe, she knew the two of you were in love. That’s why she invited the both of you to the country club for lunch, without the other one knowing of course. When you arrived and saw Rafe walking towards the table, your best friend nowhere to be found, you were very confused.

Rafe on the other hand didn’t even notice that his girlfriend was missing because he was too busy staring at you, you had on a flowy mid length white dress with small flowers on it, hair pinned up in a half up half down style, the small diamond chain he bought you for your birthday one year when you were kids shining around your neck, and your usual summer sandals. You looked absolutely beautiful and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, which caused him to bump into several waiters and mumble a quick apology, until you had both reached the table. A note was folded up and placed on the center of the table, her signature on the front.

Dear Y/N and Rafe,

I know you both have feelings for each other. I know that you liked me Rafe (at least I like to think so), but you are in love with my best friend. It was hard to accept at first, but I understand now that it isn’t something I did or anything to do with me, but everything to do with the fact that we’re just not meant to be. I want you two to be happy together, enjoy this lunch and talk. I’ll find someone who looks at me the way he looks at you Y/N/N, someone who talks about me the same way you two talk about each other, someone who makes me the light of their world. And I only hope that one day i’ll be as lucky to find love like yours. Please know that i’m not mad, I love you both in different ways and want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy, the next time we see each other you best be official or i’m going to have to resort to other…methods…and they won’t be this nice!!

-Y/B/F

You stared down in shock before passing the note to Rafe, his eyes widening with each word before he put the paper back down on the table. You each took a seat and sat in silence for a few moments before Rafe spoke up. “She’s right you know? I got with her to try and take my mind off of you, but I always knew it was you. I’ve known since we were kids that you were the one I wanted to spend my life with” a soft smile on his face as he looked up at you, your eyes meeting his as you mirrored his expression.

“I did too, I told her to go for it. Convinced myself it was just a silly crush from knowing you so long, that it would go away. But then it never did, it just grew more and more intense when you got with her. It was torture watching you two all happy when all I wanted was for it to be me” you let out a small chuckle, shaking your head and taking a deep breath in. His hand grabbed yours, thumb gently stroking the back of your hand “Then be my girl, let’s stop wasting more time. Be my girlfriend and make me the happiest man for the first time, the second time will be because I will be marrying you sweetheart”

You couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes and gently cascaded down your cheek as you nodded. Leaning over across the table to give him a kiss before pulling away, hands still laced together, and ordering a celebratory bottle of champagne. You would both talk to your best friend later, make sure this was really okay, but for now, you were going to enjoy your time together as boyfriend and girlfriend after all these years.

Tag List: @sweetestdesire @xyzstar @congratsloserr @madelynie @outerbankspov

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Creature Design: where to begin?

(image description: drawing with the title "creature design: where do I even start?" over two messy sketches of an elf with a monkey tail and a flying lizard with pterosaur wings. end description)

So you want to make cool fantasy creatures or people but you haven't the first clue where to start! I may not be the best at explaining this process because I just sort of come up with an idea and start drawing, my process is very quick and heavily influenced by the fact that I've been drawing since I was a small child and building my fantasy world and stories since I was like twelve. So for me, a lot of this is really intuitive and I don't know how to fully describe each step.

The honest truth people may not want to hear is that you'll get better at figuring out your designs if you just spend a lot of time doing art studies of real things and a lot of time making messy messy sketches from your own mind. take a pile of paper and a cheap pencil and fill those pages with scribbles that vaguely resemble creatures and people. don't worry about making things look nice. you've got to be comfortable with mess.

and I do mean it about the studying. Whether you're going for a cartoon style or a realistic one, it's hard to create new creature designs if you're not familiar with the shape and movement of real animals. trace studies are fine! nothing wrong with it. I do it all the time. gather some photos and trace out the loose shapes as well as the important details, then draw it again without tracing. rinse and repeat. this is how you get better at drawing with variety instead of getting yourself stuck on a handful of things you're confident with.

basic art practices are essential if you want to create unique designs.

but with that little caveat out of the way, let's talk about the creature design process!

step one: well if you want to design anything, you need to start with an idea!

(image description: several messy simple sketches of different fantasy designs. there is a dainty fairy, an orc with a pig snout, a bird with a bald head, and a long skinny flying fish creature. the image is also titled "step one: what do you want?" with a list of ideas below that says "redesigns. filling a niche. narrative purpose. just fun. etc." end description)

in other words, what are you hoping to accomplish by making a design? is it part of a larger project or just a little one-off idea? do you want to make your own version of a common fantasy creature, or do you want to make something totally new? You don't need to answer every detail right away, but you have to come up with a starting point. For this post, I'm creating a unicorn design. The world I've built has a lot of fantasy people and their cultures are pretty well fleshed out. But I really haven't done much to add unique fantasy animals to the setting! Certainly not any that can actually use magic. and my very first baby ideas about fantasy were so very deeply focused on unicorns, I owe it to my childhood self to have some unicorns in this world.

it's a long post, so the rest is under a cut. Next step is gather references and start doodling.

(image description: three collections of sketches. the first image bears the title "step two: sketches and studies." below the title is a compilation of white tailed deer photos with lowered opacity and red sketch lines traced over them to mark the forms of their body parts. next to this are a few white and blue sketches of deer-like unicorns, with a focus on their head shape and how their singular antler is positioned. the second image is another photo compilation with traced sketches over top, this time of several even toed ungulates. there are a few deer, a mountain goat, and a pronghorn gazelle. the final image shows a few sketches of a deer-like unicorn in different positions, with a close up on one unicorn's head with the antler only being a lump under the skin. these unicorns have long legs and very narrow faces with a singular forked antler on their foreheads. they also have a fluffy dewlap under their lower jaw. end description.)

I decided to go with a deer unicorn because I've already established that my main setting has elk! I did explore the idea of going in the direction of mountain goats or some form of other antelope or gazelle, with a focus only on things native to the americas, but ultimately I went with the deer. However, I don't want these unicorns to just look exactly like any real deer species but with one antler instead of two. I want them to look like their own unique species of deer. By doing study sketches of multiple deer species as well as other animals in the same general category, I get a better sense of the common body and head shapes, how the limbs move, and what I can change to create a unicorn that looks like a deer while still being its own new thing.

step three is to just flesh out the details! ask some questions about your creature. how do they fit in your setting? how do they interact with other living things? what are some details that make them look unique?

(image description: sketches of three deer-like unicorns. a male with a more elaborate forked antler and fuzzy dewlap, a female with an extra fluffy tail and a smaller antler that has no forks, and a baby with no antler at all. above the sketches is the title "step 3: work on details." and below this is a list of traits: "males have more elaborate antlers. capable of manipulating magic energy. smaller species of deer. versatile, adapted for many environments. often mingle with other deer." end description.)

Like the unicorns of many real life myths, I've decided these ones use their heightened intelligence and ability to manipulate magic as a way to guard the environment they live in. They're not sapient beings, but those who study magic in the world I've written are very interested in studying how unicorns use magic. Does magic ability grant sapience? or is magic ability gained as a side effect of becoming sapient? it's an important and fascinating question.

Unicorns tend to travel in very small groups and hide among herds of larger deer, using their magic abilities to sense danger and warn the herd of predators. they cannot perform all the effects of people magic, only using their natural behaviors to cause small effects. But their abilities are still quite impressive and tell a lot about the development of magical skills. Their abilities seem to confirm that spoken magic is the most primal form of magic, as they have a complex set of vocalizations that accompany their use of magic.

The effects they can cause seem to include a ripple effect in the air, akin to the heat waves that cause illusions, and a quick flash effect from their antlers, not unlike the glow created by runes. This flash effect is very fast and not terribly bright, but it's enough to startle other animals and hunters who don't expect it. this is perhaps the most intriguing of their abilities, as no people group has figured out how to replicate it. there may be other magical effects and abilities in the uicorn's arsenal, but it's difficult to document or understand them all, especially if some of those effects are more internal and not easily noticed from an outside perspective.

(image description: painting of a deer-like unicorn leaping through a grassy field. its long fluffy tail is curled up in warning and its forked antler is emitting a light. the unicorn's fur is a pale golden red with dark brown tips on the tail, ears, feet, and nose, as well as a dark stripe between the eye and nose. the lower part of its face, neck, belly, tail, and the inside of its ears are all white, along with a white stripe from its neck to its flank. end description.)

I hope you enjoyed this little design journey! I really did sit down and do the unicorn design today, and I came up with most of the worldbuilding details for it as I was writing this post! I can do this very quickly because I've been doing it for years, so don't be discouraged thinking you're bad at it if it takes you longer. I also could spend a lot more time working on the details and especially figuring out that antler shape and the coloration of its fur, because I am not fully committed to them yet! this is like a first draft.

you might go through several designs for something before you nail down a version that satisfies your goals! you might also get really far in the process and start to hate it and decide to start over. these are normal obstacles! wrestling with your ideas is rough, but it can also lead to more ideas! and the next thing you know, you've got an entire world of complex characters and fictional cultures and you're not really sure how you got there, but by golly are you going to run with it.

have fun!

[vqrtualheartss]

E42 Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader! - Across the Multiverse (might change it)

A/n : Soo, this is my first time publishing any of my writings online, although intended to be a oneshot, if all goes well a part two may come by. Feel free to give suggestions, requests, feedback. Next part here 3rd part heree

Warnings : cheating/ profanity, miles (1610) cheating, angst, cursing (only 2 words I think) , implied sexual assault,GWILES,, (not very detailed) harm done to reader

Reader = blue, Miles (1610) = red, Gwen = pink, others = white, may get a colour though

Genre : Angst(?)

I am in no way, shape or form trying to villainize Gwen, everything is just for plot in fact I love Gwiles. My only point of interest is Miles G.

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷| Every Saturday, my boyfriend -and Brooklyn's infamous Spider-Man- Miles Morales, would sit down and tell me the tea in the Spider-society. I've learnt about his encounters with other spider-people across the spider-verse and his relations with them. It was a silly little tradition but I loved it.

"Yea, so basically, the multiverse is a collection of all the universes there are, including this one. And that cow..villain thing, called The Spot has holes that can drag you anywhere across the multiverse or somewhere different in this one. I'll make sure to beat his ass next time he comes though so I can protect you from it"

I threw the pillow supporting my elbows at him, he webbed it to the wall "Corny ass"

He got up from his seat around the desk walking over to my place on the bed hovering over my frame.

"I don't care if I'm corny, I'll protect and love you in every universe there is, including this one"

We started giggling like little kids as the gap between our bodies closed in, he cradled my face in his hands before our lips met. We froze in the moment for about ten seconds before pulling back.

"I love you so, so much , and I don't ever want you to ever forget that."

He was clingy at times, but oh so adorable

"Ofcourse I know, you like to tell me everyday"

"And I'll never stop telling you"

He pecked my cheek. My hand rested onto his, caressing it

For about what seemed like hours but was just a few seconds we stared into the other's eyes, pure love and admiration in each set.

Who wouldn't fall in love again if someone looked at them like that?

"Even after two years I feel like I still have a crush on you-...Uahhh"

I held onto Miles as everything in the room including us started to levitate. He was more confused than scared since he's used to wierd stuff being Spider-Man and all. What shocked him was the blue.. portal thing that opened up in the ceiling. As it spread more, everything returned to it's position. From it a girl with blond, shoulder length hair and a right side-cut floated down on the bed beside us.

Taking a moment to process the events, Miles launched onto her

"Gwanda!, I missed you so much" huh?

"I missed you too Miles"

I stared at them blankly, separating themselves off each other, he cleared his throat.

"Y/n, this is Gwen, Gwen this is my girlfriend, y/n"

I awkwardly waved to her, to which she did back with almost the same energy. It was like looking at an inverted version of myself. My skin was a medium ebony, hers a snow white, I had coily 4c hair, her's was wavy, not to mention our clothing styles. Polar opposites.

"So why'd you call her Gwanda, and she like that?"

Confused wasn't even the word for me right now. Miles scratched the back of his head, a nervous tactic of his

"It's an inside joke, you wouldn't get it"

I shook my head to his statement. The silence got a bit awkward before she decided to break the ice

"Soo, how's everything since I left?"

Not wanting to disrupt their convo, I started scrolling through my feed

"The worst obviously"

I raised my eyebrows in shock at his confession. "obviously" What's that to mean? I had to bite at the inside of my cheek to stop myself from doing or saying anything irrational. I allowed myself to step out their convo, aimlessly browsing through social media, my focus was deep into my phone. However, my head swiftly moved when I heard their last few sentences

"Let's go patrolling, we still have a lot of catching up to do" Gwen's eyes widened, her blue irises scaring me a bit, they looked quite uncanny

"Does she know that you're-"

"Yeah, she does. You can trust her" Not sure if I can trust you or her right now.

"In that case, yeah, I'd like that"

My face stained with an inquisitive expression, both tones sounded a little too.. flirtatious for my liking, what exactly was so secretive that they had to talk it out in the city? I looked up at both persons as they put their suits on, waiting to see if neither would acknowledge my existence. Nope, they just got suited up and.. left. If there's a word to describe something to be more invisible than invisible then that was definitely how I felt. Not even my boyfriend could say goodbye.. humph

"It can't be that bad, they're just catching up.. yeah"

Trying every and anything to convince myself, I took up my belongings, letting myself outside his room then house. At first, I called out to his parents - "Mama Rio, Tio Jeff?" - hearing no response I left, locking the door using the key I got from Tiá Rio as a reminder that - I'm always welcome - I smiled at the memory.

I tried walking around the city to clear my mind, about halfway through my walk I saw two familiar suits gliding and having their best time in the sky, moving along the roofs of houses. That's some patrolling

Mood ruined, I cut my time short and headed straight home. Unlocking the door, I took my shoes off placing the beside the table. I would usually call out to my parents but they were away on a business trip. After getting some food, I took myself up to my bedroom. Taking a shower and changing into silk shorts and an oversized shirt (sleep clothes). But before heading to the bed I sat around my desk, admiring fairy lights adorned with pictures of Miles and I.. my boyfriend and I. I looked out my window only to see the two leaned against each other, back faced to my vision.

"This is going to end badly isn't it?... Maybe I'm thinking of the worst, he loves me. He wouldn't replace me like that right?" Wrong.

For the next few days it was all about Gwen. Gwen. Gwen. Gwen. Gwen. I felt as if he was dating her

"Wanna go on a date? Just you and me, it'd be fun" "Sorry I'm already with Gwen"

"Bonito, do you still want to go for ice-cream?" "Sorry princess, drawing with Gwen. Can you pick some up though? She loves vanilla."

"Can you buy that plush for me? I'll pay you back." "Sorry, spent all my money on Gwen"

(time-skip)

I tried so. so hard to keep positive, but I just couldn't. I changed, now it was gaslighting myself from crying to crying. "How's this even fair, he's supposed to be my boyfriend.. who is he even dating now" I felt like trash, disposable, he made me feel disposable. I thought I'd have to die before I see this era come. Clearly, I underestimated fate. I felt replaceable, disposable, and, jealous. I had completely let myself go, my eyes were always puffy, hair more tangled than usual, I looked a mess. I finally decided to talk with him, knowing this talk would only end one of two ways: good or bad.

I fixed myself up, it didn't take much really, I combed my hair, putting it in a nice high puff. Wore some cute clothes and that was it. Call me a narcissist, but I knew I was always pretty (bad lil bitch). I stared at my reflection in the mirror, smiling as I admired my features, taking a couple pics too , I finally headed out. My parents were out on another business trip, they always are, giving me another reason to visit the Morales - to visit my second family-.

Arriving at their residence, I knocked to acknowledge the presence of anyone that may be in the house. Miles' mother opened the door

"Tiá Rio! It's so good to see you" she pulled me into a hug before pulling back, both of us smiling

"Likewise mija.. oh dear, what happened? Your face is all sad-looking and-"

Your son is what happened

"it's nothing mama, I've just been tired, that's all"

It warmed my heart at how much she seemed to care for me, assuming she was referring to my puffy eyes I lied. - well that's one thing you can't rid in a day - whilst listening to me, she gestured for me to get inside, closing the door behind me as I took my shoes off

"If it's that boy stressing you out, I'll beat him for you, just let me know" I laughed at her suggestion

"No mama, it's not him, thank you for the offer though" I was still chuckling, then she joined in

"Anything for you. I'll get going though, I have something on the stove to attend to" I shook yes, heading towards his room

"Leave a plate for me?"

"Always " I smiled as I turned focus to Miles' bedroom door. I went in deciding to not knock

I don't even know if I wished I did or not. The scene behind the door was heartbreaking, but I couldn't look away. There he was.. my "boyfriend" kissing Gwen Stacy. He was looking at her with those eyes, the eyes of love he used to look at me with. Both of them looked at me like they've seen a ghost. The expression wasn't too far off, they did make me feel like a ghost, invisible. I shook away any tears starting to form, but my eyelids were like a broken dam, no way or use in controlling it. If anything, I wanted him to see how I felt, to see how much he hurt me, to feel guilt, sadness, anything.

"Cielo, don't cry. It's not what it looks like"

"How long ?" He started to stutter. "How long Miles?"

"2 weeks, listen.. please. We were caught up in a moment and we just-"

"Do you think that's helping?" I felt my words ball up, stuck in my throat, my stomach continuously dropping. It's as if I could feel the sadness in my body. I didn't like it

"No.." I looked over his shoulder, looking at Gwen as she turned her face away, his sweater and other belongings on her

"What happened to protecting and loving me in every universe? In this universe Miles. I don't care about any other universe, you had one job to do. Is loving me harder than being Spider-Man?" I shook my head side to side in disbelief

"Princessa-" Gwen hummed a timid response. Un-fucking-believeable

"Do not call me that, there's your princessa" I pointed over to Gwen that had her sweater still stuck over her body. The air quotes from myself added to the comedic effect and subtracted from the restraint I had to not laugh

I made a run for it when he turned his head in the direction of my finger before I broke down. I couldn't let him see me like this. I ran to the door, shoes in hand as I searched for my keys, unlocking it. Talking to Miles' mother in between quiet sobs as she rushed behind me, "I'm sorry tiá" I finally made my way onto the streets of Brooklyn running somewhere, anywhere far from their house. Once settled I tried putting on my shoes, who knew that such a simple task was hard when crying ?

Rio's p.o.v

What the hell is going on, more importantly, why is (y/n) crying. I looked up in the direction of Miles' room to see him run forward to the door, a girl that was definitely not her behind him, her lipstick smudged. What the actual- she looks old enough to vote ?! I stood in my position, putting 2 and 2 together.

"Miles Gonzalo Morales. Get. Here. Now."

(Y/n) p.o.v

Still, I was wandering around the city, just something I do to blow off steam. - The hell? - it's kinda wierd to see Brooklyn this empty, especially on a Saturday evening. I continued walking until I saw the reason for the lack of people, The Spot.

Could this day get any worse? I sighed, Yes unfortunately, mentally, I answered my question as I tried running opposite from the creature, my attempts to escape failed as it stretched it's hands to engulf me in its nothingness. As it took me in, I saw holes that spread randomly, seemingly having no start nor end.

I knew what they led into -a new universe-, but not where. Knowing there was no going back, I decided to leap into a random hole, accepting whatever fate it throws to me. Before making my decision, a hole randomly spawned underneath my legs, bringing me into any universe it leads to.

It was a hard fall to say the least but I got up. I landed in...Brooklyn? It was nothing like my Brooklyn but, sure it was pretty. The place was littered with multiple shades of dark purple and other hues, a black tint being evident on the atmosphere. Having nothing else to do, I did what I know best, wander. For about 10 minutes my eyes never left the buildings, neon signs or billboards, it was chaotic...but in a harmonious way. I was now more amused than scared. Then my thoughts hit me like a train

"Where will I stay?"

"Wouldn't I already live here?, I could be dead. SHIT I COULD BE DEAD"

"what should I do now?"

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn't seem to acknowledge the group of men (3) that stood, cat-calling me. I decided to ignore their existence, walking briskly

"Hey doll, come here. I don't bite"

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here?"

With their words slurred, I could only assume they were drunk, plugging my ears with my fingers.

"ohh, so you think you're better than us now?" The third man stated

"bitch"

I blame Miles Morales of earth 1610 for this

They started to run after me, I started to run from them. To make the situation worse on my part, before arming myself with even a rusty nail, one of the men held on my arm, forcefully dragging me into an alleyway and throwing my body against the wall. One thing happened after another, now they started to beat and bruise my body anyway and where they could. Whether it was by throwing glass at my face, kicking my chest, slapping my face, throwing my head back into the wall, stomping on my body they didn't stop. They stopped when I was at my weakest, my mouth was bleeding, slap marks imprinted on my face, glass shards in and around my body, blood dripping at a slow rate from my head, most of it got soaked up in my hair, making the coils look more like curls. They did all this while letting out a few remarks on their minds.

"That's what you get for resisting, you had a choice y'know"

"Think you're better than the rest of us huh?"

"cry all you want, there's no one here to save you"

Spitting out blood, and wiping my mouth with my sleeve I begged for some forgiveness - "Please" "Let me go" -

"Hmm, you see. I really can't do that doll but you can get something else"

"what?"

The man's mouth distorted into a smug smile before he tore my jacket in half from the seams. I tried to cover my chest with the hand covered in blood as the other men laughed. He tore away my hand, slamming my head once more into the wall. Hard. Getting rid of any consciousness I may have had left. I silently cried as I felt my soul slip from my body.

My eyes started to shut , vision doubling as I heard the sound of metal scraping against the wall, faint screams came from infront me, my body getting weak. I heard men shouting, slicing, punching, and, the splatter of something that heavily fell on my face and clothes. Finally, I felt the hand that had intentions of violating my body fall, its owner seemingly dropping to the floor.

Forcing myself to open my eyes I saw a suit with colours of purple and black step towards me, lifting my body up.

"It's all good now. You'll be fine" The voice sounded almost mechanical behind the mask, the demeanour of the wearer gradually softening as he reassured me. I closed my eyes trusting the stranger with my life. I can trust him afterall..right?

[dyushas]

I return two months later with another people standing image but this time it's Younger Character Designs for the Wayfinder Trio, because I don't think they should look exactly the same for four years straight of their adolescence. So this is how I imagine them when Ven had only just arrived in the Land of Departure

Thought-process notes under the cut (mild spoilers ig):

Terra:

-I think Terra is a creature of habit and has been dressing mostly the same since at least puberty, especially since his style is the most like Eraqus' (in my opinion) and I think most people would copy their parents less as they get closer to adulthood instead of more, but what do I know? Idk what I'm even talking about half the time. It's ultimately vibes, I just think that's his brand of autism. But I had to do it at least a little differently to justify the drawing

-Obviously he is like four years younger or something here so he's not as good at things yet or he would've just taken the Mark of Mastery then, so he's got a wrist brace to show he has fucked up his wrist. To show he's still not good at things. I am very intelligent

-I didn't want to draw the full arm piece but I pretend it's because he hasn't worked his way up to handling that much extra weight on one side yet

-I think the red shirt and the patterns look nice so I also did that

-Aqua cut his hair and she isn't that good at it

-I think he's meant to have brown eyes

Aqua:

-She's got so many flowy bits in her canon outfit and I think it probably took her awhile to achieve the kind of control needed for those to not just be a hazard, so at this point she's a younger teen and she isn't there yet, but she can still afford to add a bit of flair

-I was looking at ballet warm-up clothes like those trash bag shorts cause she's got this dancer thing going on

-She and Terra have the same style of shirt because I thought it would be cute and emphasize their closeness as well as the fact that Ven is somewhat of an outsider here at this point

-She has a knee thing. She hurt her knee. She probably fell trying to figure out that fuckass twirl she does sometimes or something

-She cut her own hair but had Terra help with the back. Mistakes were made

-Terra's nails are painted, too, I just drew him with the wrong hand position to show it. The two of them have been the only other kids around for a good while so they hang out when they're supposed to be asleep sometimes to study their keyblade stuff and then get distracted with something silly and joke back and forth, and they paint each other's nails and share clothes sometimes, although this is getting harder cause they're less and less the same size. And then the next day, Eraqus has to tell them off because Aqua is mad Terra's hogging the bathroom and now they're at each other's throats. Just the way it is

Ventus:

-I can write off everyone looking the same in the flashbacks in BBS cause it was a PSP game and they'd already made a lot of new character models so like. I can think "it was just a practicality thing, they probably didn't actually look the same back then" but Ventus also has the same outfit in UX and I pretend I do not see it. There's no way. He needs something else, his skin is sticking to his clothes. It's just not right, it's not ethical, he's only a boy

-I let him keep the waistcoat though cause it feels SO UX era, everyone in that damn game has a little waistcoat and then no one (?) in the console games does. So my thought process is that this one thing is for SURE from tha past and he just keeps wearing it. He's a little vintage

-He has shorts because ummm :P

-Sora had shorts both as a little baby in BBS and a larger baby in KH1, and then as he's been depicted as less kiddish and more teenaged they have him in those cropped pants now. So it's a Sora parallel. Shorts are just the little boys garment

-"But what if his legs get cold?" Well clearly I thought of that

-He has no armor bits because at this point in time he's just been through a lot of trauma and has only just woken up from a mild coma (for him), so he's all kinds of unwell and I don't think he's really doing any proper training yet. Eraqus already kind of babied him in the main story, so he was probably truly swaddled back then. He's dressed for COMFORT

-This meant he also needed different shoes so I drew some. They're not very remarkable

-I gave him a little jacket because I tried drawing him just without one and I didn't like it, he didn't look enough like he spends his days skulking around and looking sad and not getting to hit things with his keyblade, so I gave him something haori-adjacent like it's maybe something Eraqus had lying around and let him wear like how my mom starts putting her jackets on me when she thinks I'm acting sick. But it has black and white checks on the sleeves because I had to put them SOMEWHERE or else it wouldn't be right and every other option I could think of sounded ugly

-I CAN'T EXPLAIN THE LEGWARMERS, I just wanted him to have a unique silhouette that makes him look like he's been sitting the fuck around

-He just has the same hair as he had in UX, which is his original hair but shorter

That's it unless I forgot something in which case you can ask and I may or may not have an answer.

I might also draw Vanitas in this time period even though I'd just give him the same outfit he always has since it's a magic outfit or whatever, but like for the sake of imagining him Small. Vote now on your phones if I should or not so I can disregard it and do whatever I feel like anyway

[fictarian]

Hobie w/ an equally as punk reader? <3 🤘🎸

𝐇𝐢𝐦 <𝟑 . ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝐏𝐭. 𝟔

ღ Of course! I apologize if there are issues with this fic, because i’m not very familiar with the style despite trying to learn about it 😭 Fun facts and criticism is VERY MUCH appreciated in the comments, so don’t be afraid to comment

ღ Gang we’re like 21 followers away from 100… i’m shivering in boots ‼️‼️ Tysm for following me omg

ღ Here’s a couple headcannons for if Hobie was with a punk partner (relationship goals, shout out to all my punk lovers I aspire to be like you)

ღ Paring: Hobie Brown and a GN! Punk reader 🙏

ღ Previous part can be found here !

• Whenever the two of you go out together, you always make an effort to go to your local record store. It has become a tradition between you and Hobie to buy two records (preferably of a song that the other hasn’t listened to or knows about) each and gift them to the other at the end of the trip. This helps broaden your guys’ music taste, introduce each other to a new possible favorite band, and just be a bonding experience all together

“The Skids?” You question while looking down at the album in your hands, intrigued by the vibrant colors on the cover. Hobie only nods his head, looking down at the records you had gotten for him. “Mhm, one of my favorites. You’ll like it luv, I promise.”

• No matter what either of you say, you and Hobie are both history nerds. Especially about punk history. So there’s no doubt that whenever you both are on call or are just relaxing in your room in silence, one of you are bound to start a conversation with a history fact. And for the next couple of hours, you’ll both be ranting and exchanging facts to each other

• Since you guys have practically the same style, you often find yourself taking some of Hobie’s jackets, pins, jewelry, etc. Hobie doesn’t mind, in fact, it gets his heart racing whenever he sees you in something that belonged to him at one point (let’s be fr, he isn’t gonna get shit back). So don’t be surprised when you catch him leaning against the doorway to your room, watching you try on one of his leather jackets or ripped jeans with a small smirk and a blush coating his face 🤭

“Y’know, it’s rude to stare” “I just can’t ‘elp it luv, not when something so pretty is right ‘front of me” Hobie cooed, causing you to blush from the tone of his voice. “Whatever…”

• You’re Hobie’s #1 hype person during the concerts he participates in (he doesn’t like consistency, so obviously he switches it up a lot and plays with different bands). This makes him go absolutely WILD. Just seeing you go full on crazy and vibe to the song he’s playing makes him 🥺. Hobie makes it a requirement for you to go to every one of his gigs, which obviously, you don’t mind at all

• You always get a front row view during his concerts, no questions asked. While you’re jamming away to the song his band is performing, Hobie is staring directly at you (somehow managing to not mess up his playing). And when you notice this and finally meet his gaze, the bastard doesn’t even look the least bit shamed or embarrassed. He even sends you a wink, making you the embarrassed one instead

• Hobie dedicates songs to you. Hell, bro will full on WRITE songs for you. He just loves you so much, and wants to show you that in a form that you both bond over constantly every single day. And when Hobie does dedicate a song to you, he makes it very clear to the audience. This makes you want to stomp on him with your platform boots, but it also makes you want to pull him in by the collar of his shirt and kiss him all over his face

“This one is for my arsekicker, _____. Didn’t tell em I was gonna do this before ‘and, since they would ‘ave done just that.” Hobie announced, meeting your sharp glare with a wink and his usual smug smirk. You shook your head, feeling your face burn as the band started to play.

tag list ! @zalayni @luvstarrstruck @jrrantss @pixqlsin @kairiscorner @k4tsu3 @asmobeuses