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solecize · 9 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. n/a

part two: the caretaker and the sister ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

iv. the caretaker

“gonna be real, i’m sure you know why we’re looking at you funny.” jungkook was blunt, but you had to give him kudos for it.

“oh, why is that?” you replied dryly,

the way you had narrowed it down for your parents seemed more simple in your head when you rehearsed it a dozen times over before having each individual sit-down. the property was just going to rot and go to waste. it’s what grandpa would have wanted. so many sweet words intertwined with one another, but not once did you mention your perpetual unhappiness.

explaining it to two people who were essentially strangers should have been easier, but something told you that the look jungkook was giving you hinted that he knew there was more of a story than that. on the other hand, namjoon, who was still confused by the entire conversation somehow, either didn’t care to ask or knew it wasn’t his place to press.

by his sympathetic glance towards your dirty duffel bag, it seemed to be the latter. he slowly came to the ground from his horse and gave you one of those sweet smiles that only a gentleman from the countryside could give. it was the same one your grandpa and jungkook had.

namjoon gestured down the road. “need a ride into town?”

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when namjoon said “ride” and then your eyes fell on the beautiful stallion that he had a gentle hand on. oh. somehow, the idea made you stomach drop and you were shocked to find that.

“what’s wrong? we used to ride all the time when we were kids,” jungkook said, having read the expression formed on your face.

one of the thing that your mom warned you about was that no one was going to take you seriously in the valley. your grandfather was a well seasoned farmer, as the property had been passed down for generations until your mom declined the responsiblity. and, of course, you grew up in the city and you definitely looked like it. there wasn’t another reason to add onto this obstacle.

you shook your head. “i, uh, injured my ankle a week back. pilates.” a hollow chuckle that jungkook and namjoon overlooked and nodded in understanding. “so, it’s best if i don’t ride into town.”

you weren’t sure why the idea of getting on a horse made you nervous. it had been many years, but there was a time where you rode more often than you walked on your own two legs. pushing the feelings away to deal with another time, there was a bigger issue at hand. the movers were likely going to make it to the farm before you were at this rate.

“oh, no worries! stay put, we’ll come back for ya,” jungkook said, “shouldn’t take long. you’ll be okay waiting here?”

you smiled and nodded, giving the two kind semi-strangers a thank you and off they went.

it was a relief that small-town hospitality was a thing. you hoped that would be the case, as you remembered amber valley to be a tight-knit community, as everyone knew each other. this left you to wonder who else you would be encountering in your new life here from your past. there weren’t too many kids your age growing up and you assumed that most of them would want to leave the valley like you did, given the lack of opportunitites. you wondered why jungkook and namjoon were still around.

although you were just standing on the side of the road alone, you didn’t feel unsafe at all. after all, your grandpa would allow you and jungkook to roam around the town until late at night with no supervision when you were kids. there was not a single vehicle that passed by as you waited. if you hadn’t gotten namjoon’s attention as he was riding by, you were going to end up hitchhiking and probably in the wrong direction, too.

soon enough, you saw a car in the distance and you breathed a sigh of relief. a baby blue mustang, its age was apparent by the blaring roar of its engine and clank of its metal. coming to a stop, the windows rolled down and you gave a small wave.

while jungkook sat at the passenger’s seat, there was a different face behind the steering wheel. another person around your age, you couldn’t recognize him by face, even calculating his smile that reached his eyes. however, when he opened his mouth, the man’s voice hit you like a truck.

“hi, you’re - “

“park jimin?” you gaped.

the park family ran a generation spanning fishing business in amber valley and your mom was once high school sweethearts with jimin’s father. that’s why his mom was particularly snippy with you as a child and didn’t want you hanging around her son, feeding him ideas of how evil you apparently were - or so, that’s what the gossip from jungkook’s mom was. the three of you were baking cookies one day and jungkook wanted to drop some off to jimin. you went along and jimin called you a witch, so when you cried the entire walk back to jungkook’s house, his mom told you not to worry and that his mom was just a bit petty. ever since that day on until your last summer in amber valley, you declared jimin an enemy after realizing why he had done the same to you.

jimin peered over, analyzing your face for a few seconds. beside him, you could see jungkook noticeably stifling a laugh. when the realization clocked in, jimin mirrored your slightly dropped jaw.

he couldn’t help but laugh. “oh shit, you’re bunny.” there was no sense of resentment or snarkiness, which was surprising with your history - but, then again, this wide-eyed individual with the sweetest smile you’d ever seen was nothing like your childhood bully.

“i remember one time you ripped all of my silly bandz. you were evil!” jimin exclaimed.

once you got into the backseat, duffle bag nestled beside you, the atmosphere was actually quite lively. a beyonce album from the 2000s was shuffled in the background and although the road was bumpy and old, no one seemed to mind. you raised your eyebrows, trying to recall jimin’s anecdone.

jungkook added in, “yup, you guys hated each other. i had to play peacemaker all the time.”

“hmm…” you trailed off. “oh yeah. i think you had to physically hold me back from jimin a few times.”

apparently, from “forcing” jungkook to eat mud and terrorizing jimin’s dinosaur silly bandz collection, you were a menace. thankfully, it was all fun and games, as the three of you exchanged giggles about being kids in the valley. slowly, piece by piece, you were grasping some memories that you didn’t even know were tucked away at the back of your mind.

jungkook looked at you from the mirror. “you doing okay? we’ll be reaching the farm in a few minutes.”

“where did namjoon run off to again? i was supposed to lend him something,” jimin said.

“something about helping his dad with something, i dunno,” jungkook shrugged at jimin and then turned back to you. “he says good luck with moving in, by the way, and that he would have helped out if he could.”

jimin sighed. “he’s always at the beck and call of mayor kim. poor guy just wants to get out of here.” you assumed he was talking about amber valley as a whole.

this made you a bit curious, thinking again why these young adults were sticking around the small town. the average demographic for the town was definitely on the older side, from what you saw at your grandfather’s funeral service. you ended up asking what both of them did and while you noticed jungkook go quiet, jimin piped in.

“just helping my parents out with the family business, probably become the owner when they retire. i actually don’t mind it here and i could see myself staying here - “

“ - that’s because you’ve never left your entire life,” jungkook interjected.

“and it’s great! except the dating pool is a bit shallow. gotta figure that out.” jimin’s pout made you laugh and made it feel even more bewildering that this was the little brat from your childhood.

eventually, you all drove right past the path leading into the centre of town and made a sharp turn towards another dirt path that had a singular route to your grandfather’s property. the lively air of the conversation distracted you from the confrontation due, despite your hasty acceptance of your new role. the last two weeks had been a whirlwind and you grew anxious of what it would feel like to see your grandfather’s greatest pride and joy once again.

it’d been almost half a year since your grandfather’s passing and you prepared yourself for extensive work on the farm. there were also floating questions about the property that you weren’t sure who to ask. the property was in your name and the transition to move happened in the blink of an eye. but, what about grandpa’s other possessions? the animals? the furniture?

the moving truck was already parked out front and checking the time on your phone, you were relieved to see that you weren’t too late past the agreed arrival time. the three of you exited the car and you gave the two men a warm smile.

“hey, thanks for the ride. i really appreciate it, i would’ve been toast without your guys’ help.”

“it’s no problem at all! i think it’s really cool you’re taking over the farm, keeping it in the family,” jimin replied. “plus, we’ll probably be business partners. don’t worry, my days of being a pain in the ass are over.”

the two of you laughed and exchanged a playful handshake. meanwhile, jungkook took out your duffel bag from the trunk for you and walked over. you thanked him and took the bag from him, quietly impressed by his quick chivalry.

jungkook smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile just a little bit wider. “do you need help with anything, by the way?“

“oh, no! trust me, you have definitely helped enough.” you waved him off. the neighbourly spirit was definitely strong in amber valley, but you already felt bad about having them fetch a whole car because the idea of you riding a horse was going to give you a heart attack.

“you sure?” jimin added.

you said, “absolutely. the movers got most of it anyway.” you were slightly worried about exploring the property and looking at the state of it, but that was just the first task you had to take care of in your new role.

“alright, cool. well, i hope to see you around! jungkook, you’re good?” jimin turned to the other male, who nodded. “nice. see ya then!” and just like that, jimin was off. a ray of sunshine, but seemed like the type who was always on his feet.

you were confused why jungkook didn’t leave with jimin and then you remember he lived about a five minute walk away. that reminded you why the two of you seemed to never leave each other’s sides.

“okay. you probably remember where everything is, but the chickens were fed this morning and - “ jungkook started and you were confused. what was he talking about?

“wait, has someone been taking care of the farm?”

you finally got a good look around the front and you realized everything looked. . .normal. it was exactly like how it looked in your memories, when your grandfather took meticulous care of the property. the grass was cut and emerald green, not missing a day of water.

your grandfather’s farmhouse had never gotten an renovation since being built and while it certainly showed, the age of the house accentuated a certain charm that only old houses gained over the years. the wrap-around porch was still in tact, despite its chipped paint. its unique bright red roof faded into a dirty maroon, losing remnants of what was your mother’s favourite colour, which your grandfather had customized the roof to match. the shrubbery around the house was overgrown, but didn’t look like it had been so for nearly half a year, indicating there was maintenance at some point between now and then.

jungkook took a second to speak. “well, your mom was paying for basic maintenance every now and then. for the grass and stuff.”

you didn’t know that, but you weren’t too surprised. after your grandpa died, there was really no talk about where his property was going to go. you didn’t know that he had left it to you, but you later found out that your mother was actually aware of this, but assumed you would be disinterested and didn’t say anything to you.

“i guess she thought i wouldn’t care about the property and took matters into her own hands,” you shrugged. “but, sorry, you said something about the chickens? and what about the fields?”

he put his hands into his pockets. “well, you know before your grandpa passed i was helping him around the farm and stuff. i just. . .kind of continued even after.”

you responded, “you’ve been taking care of the farm?”

you weren’t sure how to feel. you were certainly shocked, having not understood how truly deep jungkook’s relationship with your grandfather ran. for him to come out to the farm and perform labour on his own accord, as well as the way jungkook spoke about him, there was a true sense of care involved.

“well, yeah. there was no one else to do it. your grandpa worked all his life to grow this place and i didn’t want any of it to go to waste. i wasn’t sure what the situation was with the property until you came today, but the animals had nowhere to go!” jungkook seemed genuinely exasperated by the situation. “don’t worry, it’s not like i’ve been profiting off of his animals. i’ve used everything just to back into taking care of the farm and it’s been just enough, since there aren’t any crops.”

“jungkook. . .” you were left speechless. you couldn’t believe how golden of a heart this man really had to be keeping your grandfather’s memory alive, all behind the scenes and for no recognition.

he just chuckled. “look, i’m not just glad someone is here now to get things up and running again, but the fact that it’s you. you’re the perfect person for this.”

“am i?” you asked, looking down at the ground. you were about to fill some really big shoes and you knew it. those words of affirmation meant the world to you, suddenly feeling immense pressure on your back once actually seeing the farm in person for the first time in years.

jungkook said, without missing a beat, “of course. you’re here because you care about your grandpa’s legacy and all the work he’s done, i can see it in your eyes. you’ll be a natural, don’t worry - i’m sure all the little things are gonna come back to you!” he was so confident and you couldn’t believe it. you could only try to hope he was right.

“hey. . .” you began and couldn’t help but approach him. he seemed to share the same idea as you and opened his arms at the same time you did, enveloping you in a hug. neither one of you knew that the other had tears forming. “thank you, jungkook.”

“of course. maybe it’s actually best that i show you where everything is?”

you agreed without hesitation. after making sure that the movers didn’t need anything from you, the two of you left to embark on a quick tour of the property and its different buildings. when you were little, everything on the farm seemed so big and far and the entire world seemed to be unimaginatively endless. now, as an adult, things seemed just as daunting with the new chapter in your life, despite things not looking as big and far.

after an hour or so, jungkook said his goodbye and the movers had long finished their job. now, with your grandfather’s farmhouse living room filled to the brim with cardboard boxes and wrapped up furniture, you knew there was a lot ahead of you. you made a cup of tea and before getting to anything, found yourself outside and sitting criss-cross on the steps to the front door, wondering what was to come next.

v. the sister

there was just one grocery store in town, about half a kilometre of a walk and wasn’t going to pose any trouble for your vehicle-less self. this was your first time going into town since moving in, having been cooped up and living off of ramen noodles since you lacked the energy to go grocery shopping. friday night, after finishing work for the day and unpacking the last of your boxes, you decided to put on your big girl pants and run some errands.

the first few days on the farm were exhausting, to say the least. thankfully, because of jungkook’s help and your mother’s contributions to the property, it was a lot less work than you remembered. you performed many of the tasks naturally, having spent summers doing the same thing over and over again. this didn’t mean you weren’t tiring come the weekend and you just wanted your trip to be a quick in and out.

with an hour to closing, the store was basically empty and this gave you a sense of relief. you walked in, wearing stained sweatpants that were far older than you were willing to admit and your hair held up into a messy updo by a claw clip.

after about ten minutes, you were in the cereal aisle and deciding on if you wanted to pick out the one with the best cartoon on the cover or the one with the best nutritional value. this is when you felt something tugging on your pant leg.

“oh..? oh!”

you jumped slightly when you saw it was a beagle with the cutest eyes you’d ever seen. noticing the dog lacked a leash or collar or any kind, you quickly put the cereal you had been inspecting back on the shelf and crouched down.

you whispered, “who do we have here?” your own eyes softened, as you crouched down to pet the tiny animal.

from behind you, you hear the sound of spongy footsteps - almost like a squeak with each step. turning around, you were met with a little girl and realized the squeakiness was coming from her hot pink light up sneakers, the kind that only ever made noise on tiled flooring. with a leash that matched the colour of her shoes perfectly in hand, her distress visibly eased upon laying eyes on you and the dog.

“oh, peanut! oppa is gonna be so mad at me,” she gasped, immediately enveloping the puppy into her arms and re-attached the leash. looking at her, she couldn’t have been more than ten years old.

still crouched on the ground and meeting her at eye-level, you asked, “are you okay?”

“sorry, yeah! it just looked like she needed a second, so i took it off.” her frown, despite how distraught she was, was adorable. “thank you, miss!”

so much for the in and out. you didn’t mind, though, as peanut approached you again and jumped up, narrowly missing your face with an excitable lick. you giggled in a way you hadn’t in a while, petting the puppy.

soon enough, another round of frantic footsteps followed. you looked up and weren’t surprised to see a familiar face.

“jiwon, how many times have i told you to keep peanut leashed when we’re inside the store?”

honestly, it was to your luck that you ran into jungkook here. after he left you at the farm on your first day, you realized you didn’t get his contact information. you were definitely considering it as he gave you a quick tour of where everything you needed was, but the idea of asking a man for his number for any given reason made your stomach jump. thankfully you didn’t need immediate assistance, save for the various things that were just broken around the property, but it would have been useful.

clad in a graphic muscle shirt depicting a band you didn’t recognize, you couldn’t help but admire the way his tattoos were exposed and adorned his arms. you had to snap out of it. he finally made eye contact you and raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.

“y/n. how’s your first week gone?”

“oppa, why are you making your voice sound like that - “

jungkook cleared his throat. “shut it, jiwon.” you thought you saw his ears turned pink, but he adjusted the baseball cap on his head and his hair fell down to cover them.

you looked between the two of them, confused. who was this little girl? putting the thought at the back of your mind, you opened your mouth to answer his question when two other figures began to approach.

“hey! there you guys are - we got the cake.”

you’d never seen so many people wear cowboy hats in one place than amber valley and this individual was no exception. he was easily one of the most handsome men you had ever physically laid eyes on - what was with this town? and of course, blue jeans. the friend beside him was also incredibly good looking, but dressed more like your neighbour from your old apartment complex and stood out against the other people you’d seen in town. apple watch, expensive nike dunks and a hoodie from an instagram streetwear brand that recently blew up.

“who’s this?” the first man asked and his gaze made you a little more frozen than you were willing to admit.

jungkook replied, “this is y/n. she’s taking over the old farm, it was her grandpa’s.”

“oh, i’m sorry for your loss. welcome to amber valley, though. i’m taehyung,” he smiled and offered his hand, which you took. “i’m new, too. i moved here last year.”

the other man also offered you his hand. “i’m yoongi. welcome to amber valley - good luck.”

“i’m not new - wait what?” you looked at yoongi, confused. “what do you mean, good luck?”

the other three began chuckling amongst themselves. yoongi only looked exasperated. you raised an eyebrow.

jiwon cut in. “yoongi says he got tricked.”

“tricked?”

“tricked to come here,” taehyung said, in between his laughs. “he’s from the city, something about his realtor lying to him about what the town’s like before he moved here.”

yoongi rolled his eyes. “it’s not a joke - i didn’t know i would be moving to the middle of nowhere!”

you learned that yoongi was a computer programmer and lived at home, worked from home, and hated leaving his home. he stayed in amber valley because on the few occasions he was forced to go into the office, it was only a short drive to where his company’s headquarters were in the next town over.

“i mean, it’s definitely different from the city. . .” you tried to offer, but yoongi waved it off. his friends were just amused and you could see the tiniest smile at that, so you assumed he wasn’t totally unhappy.

meanwhile, taehyung proudly declared that he - wait for it - chose to move to amber valley. he was a novelist and moving to the town inspired the setting for the newest manuscript he was working on.

“i love it here, it’s really peaceful,” he said.

the last to be introduced was jiwon, whose appearance baffled you more and more when you looked at her. it was because she looked just like jungkook. and she was calling him oppa. you put two and two eventually.

“my annoying little sister.” jungkook reached over, but jiwon instantly slapped his hand away from her head, as if on instinct.

there wasn’t too much surprise at the sibling you’d never met before, just a little bewildering to think a whole new human was made while you were gone from amber valley. after all, jungkook’s parents were relatively young, both the same age your own parents, who had you at nineteen. this explained two main things in your childhood, the first being why it was a no-hesitation decision for your parents to send you away to your grandfather’s care over the summer. free childcare was incredibly unreliable in the city and it was just easier for them.

and, of course, like most kids from the valley, your mom grew up alongside jungkook’s parents. for that, it was encouraged and even expected for the two of you to eventually become friends. there was also a high level of trust because of this. out late biking with jungkook? oh, you’re with jungkook, it should be fine. left unsupervised on the fields? it’s okay, you and jungkook would look after each other.

“it’s nice to meet you all. it’s a little weird that you have a little sister this grown now - has it really been that long since i left?” you shook your head.

jungkook only laughed. “longest nine years of my life since this brat was born.”

“hey!”

“your mom did always say she wanted a daughter,” you attempted to joke, but ceased when you saw the atmosphere explicitly shift.

taehyung and yoongi looked away, eyes darting anywhere but the current conversation. jiwon looked like she had just seen a ghost. on the other hand, jungkook’s expression went blank. what the hell did you do wrong?

it was taehyung who broke the silence. “hey, jiwon. wanna go pick out a card for jin?”

jiwon nodded enthusiastically - a little too enthusiastic. she happily skipped away, giving peanut’s leash over to jungkook, and yoongi and taehyung both left with her.

“i’m so sorry, was it something i said?” you blurted to jungkook, as soon as the three were out of your line of sight. what a horrible first impression you must have just made.

jungkook said, “ah, no, it’s nothing, really. . .there is something you should know, though.” he took a second, as if preparing himself. “you see, my mom and dad passed away six years ago.”

“what?”

the familiar feeling of grief struck you like a lightning bolt, causing your chest to drop and you blood to run cold. you thought you heard him wrong. six years ago? your grandpa never told you this - or maybe he did and it went in one ear and out the other. you couldn’t believe it, your body frozen and detached.

“hey, it’s okay, you couldn’t have known.” he reached over and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, instantly calming you down at his touch.

you shook your head anyway. “i’m so sorry, jungkook.” you didn’t know what else to say.

“really, it’s fine,” he broke out into a light chuckle. “it was an accident and it happened a long time ago. it’s just a bit hard on jiwon because she doesn’t really remember them.”

“oh, i feel awful!”

“it’s okay, y/n,” jungkook continued to assure you, while peanut just looked up at you with those big eyes.

you still didn’t seem to find the words, as you mentally grasped at any remaining memories of jungkook’s parents. they were always around during the summer and were always so good to you. they cared for you like one of their own. jungkook’s mom always joked that you were the daughter she always wanted.

jungkook decided to be the one to change the subject, even though you had lingering questions about his and jiwon’s situation. he told you the reason why the four of you were in the grocery store in the first place, talking your ear off about how excited he was for his friend’s birthday party tomorrow.

“we’re throwing him a surprise party at the local pub - well, i guess it’s the only one in town,” he prattled and looked at his feet. “do you, uh, want to come? it’ll be a lot of fun.”

you felt your cheeks turn hot. “oh, i really shouldn’t intrude - “ something about jungkook inviting you out to a social setting made you nervous like a school girl.

“no! no, it’s no intrusion at all,” jungkook interjected, “trust me! there aren’t a lot of people our age in town and we’re all pretty close, so it’d be nice if you could meet everyone, too. jin is a really friendly person, he’ll want to meet you and make sure you’re fitting in well and everything.”

you paused. “i don’t know. . .”

“think about it!” he continued to insist, as he reached into his jeans and pulled out his phone from his back pocket. oh no. now, you were really frozen in place.

what was it about the way jungkook made you so nervous? this was literally the little boy that used to cry if your beyblade was stronger than his. you couldn’t believe yourself.

jungkook tapped on his phone a few time and then turned it around for you. “put in your contact. i’ll text you sometime tomorrow afternoon and see if you made your mind up?”

you did, in fact, give jeon jungkook your number. your hands were quivering ever so slightly when you did, but at least you didn’t have to be the one to ask. it gave you heavy relief that you didn’t have to be the one to text first either. but, then, you came to terms with the fact that you were certainly going to be checking your phone every two minutes for a text from the man in question. this was insane.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyle @wobblewobble822@seokout @firelcrds

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #jungkook scenarios #jungkook series #bts series #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #kpop fanfic #bts au #*** / the farmhouse.#kpop imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

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neteyamslovrr · 2 years ago

Text

TO LOSE YOU

summary: tsu'tey had lost everyone he had ever loved. fearful of loving you to lose you, he pushes those feelings down just for you to dig them back up

3.5k words fem!omaticaya reader angst to fluff

────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

Quick, agile, brave, and mighty. Four words to describe the great warrior Tsu’tey.

He was idolized by every young hunter, he had wooed every woman, he was the man of the people. However, this man lacked the space in his heart for more than the people, a space that needed vulnerability and kindness. What space was that? A space for someone special.

Tsu’tey was in the forest, his limbs movingly stealthily against the foliage, his bow drawn, ready to shoot. The soft sounds of the forest were twittering in his perked-up ears, moving to the direction of any sound. He had just lost sight of a large creature, perfect to bring back to his people. Yet the creature had run off into the forest faster than Tsu’tey could draw his bow.

He was extremely alert, as you have to be in the hostile forest. But each of his senses were heightened. He wanted that animal, the fact that he missed his chance already made him angry but the fact he couldn’t find it again made him seer.

It was a quiet rustle in the flora that made Tsu’tey’s hunched back straighten as he tilted his body towards the sound. He was weary of the noise, knowing there were many sounds in this large forest, but this rustle grew closer and closer to him.

With the release of his arrow a shout was immediately heard, a shout no animal could have made. “AH! You Skxwang!” a woman had shouted in the distance. Feet taking off in a hurry, scurrying as his feet broke twigs and disturbed all life in the area as he senselessly ran towards the woman’s voice. As he landed upon the destination of the sound he found the woman was you, a woman he had grown up besides, trained with and fought wars with.

Eyes grew in worry as he realised his arrow had grazed the flesh of your thigh, you must’ve moved just in time not to be impaled, but that did not stop the blood gushing out of your open wound.

“Y/N! Why are you here?!” His first reaction was to shout, demand to understand why you were so deep in the forest following him, however, it was soon abandoned as he noticed your inability to respond to anything as you held you leg wailing in pain.

He was speechless. The only sound he was able to conjure was to call his direhorse. He saw your blood-stained hands and felt nauseous. There was so much blood.

The trotting of his horse was met with a feeling of relief as he reached down to pick you up. “OW!”

“I am sorry! We must get you to Tsa’hik!”

“Skxwang! You- AH!” He tried to be quick placing you on the back on his horse but it didn’t distract from the pain. He hopped behind you, connecting with his horse and holding you from behind riding through the forest with haste.

Every trot was met with a hiss of pain until you both reached the Tsa’hik’s hut.

You now laid on the ground of her tent, jars of medicinal herbs filling your senses as the pain shot through your leg. “I swear Tsu’tey I am going to pluck your eyes- OW!”

Tsu’tey paced around the tent, he was going to stay with you until Mo’at had declared you fit. He was the perpetrator. The one who shot an arrow mere millimetres away from impaling your leg. Every time you hissed and shouted the guilt in his chest grew heavier. He knew he was off his shooting game but he didn’t think he was going to seriously injure one of his people, definitely not someone he had grown up beside.

“Be quiet my child, the pain will subside shortly.” Mo’at’s voice was calming, as her lengthy fingers worked precisely to tie a thick fabric around the gash to stop some of the final bleeding.

“Thankyou Tsa’hik.” Breathlessly you thanked her as she gave you a knowing nod before leaving the tent to attend to other tasks. She was a busy woman.

Tsu’tey stared down at you, his mouth agape. He had never been so stricken before seeing someone in such pain that he had caused.

“I am sorry Y/N.” He kneeled next to you, laying a hand on your shoulder. Shuddering at his touch you grunted in response. “I truly am.”

“It is unlike you to apologize.”

“I have injured you, it is different.” You hummed rolling your head to the side to face away from Tsu’teys frowning face. A long beat of silence enters the room, embracing your bodies with the tension. “Why were you out following me?”

Your breath hitched in response, you didn’t want to reveal the real reason you were following him in the forest. You couldn’t, it would destroy the simple friendship the two of you share. “Why is it any of your business?”

“Because you followed me into the forest, without warning knowing it could be dangerous.” A stern tone now erupted out of Tsu’tey, his signature frown adorning his face.

“I don’t think I owe you anything considering you almost killed me.” You had got him there. He wasn’t going to badger an injured woman but he was going to badger his injured friend.

“Tell me.”

“It is none of your business Tsu’tey.”

“Y/N.” he growled lowly, tail whipping back and forth due to his anger.

“Do me a favour Tsu’tey and please get me some water. I am thirsty.”

“Your attempt at changing the subject is poor.” Even though he was ridiculing your attempts he was still getting the water for you. A large leaf in his hand he sat back down beside you. Sitting up to take the water out of his hands the pain in your thigh run through your entire body. “Ah!”

“Lay back I will feed to you.” Tsu’tey motioned for you to lay back as you swatted his hand away.

“I…can drink m-myself.” Your attempt at sitting up again failed as the pain in your thigh became more intense. Tsu’tey gave you a look, one that said, ‘just sit back please.’ You complied laying back on your forearms as Tsu’tey scooted towards your head.

One hand help your chin tilting your head upwards as the other held the leaf steadily to slowly poor the water into your mouth. His slender fingers on your chin made your face tingle. You had yearned for Tsu’tey since you were children, but you pushed those feelings down as he grew older and grew interested in other women. Those feelings never went away and in times like these they resurfaced immediately.

“Thankyou Tsu’tey.” You smiled back at him before removing the weight off your forearms and lying back down.

“It is duty. No need to thank.” Ah yes. Duty. No matter what Tsu’tey had his duties. That is what he tended to most now. He was the only warrior with no mate. After Sylwanin was killed and Neytiri mated to Jake sully he had never wanted to find another. He wasn’t bothered any longer to find a mate when his first duty was to serve his people beside Jake.

But that never stopped you from hoping that one day he would look at you in a different light. See you as a woman not a friend. You hoped that his heart also fluttered when you met eyes or when your limbs brushed up against each other, but it felt useless. He never would feel that way.

This however was where you were wrong. His heart fluttered but he refused to let it show, he refused to accept this feeling. It was weak of him. It only brought hurt to his life when he loved so he would stay beside you as a friend.

“You can go Y’know. I will not perish.” He nodded with a chuckle.

“You are too tough to perish, but I cannot leave. You must tell me why you followed.” As he went back to the sore subject you hissed at him in annoyance.

“You will get no answer from me. Don’t annoy me while I lay injured by your doing.” Tsu’tey hissed back in annoyance.

“Y/N I do not understand what it so hard to tell…” before he finished you let out a loud shouting hiss at him baring your teeth at him.

“Go.” For one so annoyed at Tsu’tey you couldn’t in your heart be mean. So you ‘go’ was not a demand but rather sounded like a desperate plead.

Tsu’tey frowned, his forehead creasing as he got up from his position next to you. “Goodbye Y/N.” he muttered before sulking out of the Tsa’hik’s tent to go tend to his other duties for the day.

It had been a couple days and you were now completely healed. Tsu’tey popped into the tent once or twice a day to give you water or feed you some fruit but decided to not pester you about your whereabouts on that day. He knew there was a reason you would not tell him, but he also knew there was no way he could get you to talk so he decided to keep his mouth shut.

As you felt cooped up in your tent for the past few days you took this time to go and just lay in the forest, fly your ikran and be one with nature. It made you feel calm and finally let you take a deep breath that wasn’t filled with strong scents of paste that had been massaged into your wound.

As soon as Tsu’tey saw you take flight to your ikran he knew it was time to ask about. To figure out your secret. Someone had to know, he prayed someone knew.

“Jakesully!” He shouted chasing after the Olo’eyktan. “You! Jakesully!” He shouted again finally gaining his attention.

“What? Huh? Oh brother, what is it that you need?” Jake patted a hand on Tsu’tey’s shoulder motioning for him to sit with him so they could converse.

Tsu’tey took a deep breath. He was nervous to ask the Olo’eyktan something about you. It would look stupid to Jakesully, he thought. That he had to be secretive to get the answers he needed from one of his close friends.

“Y/N. I question her actions.” His face was stern, eyes glaring hard at Jake with a slight twinkle of confusion.

“Why don’t you just ask her? You two are friends aren’t you?” Tsu’tey rolled his eyes. If Y/N would have told him he would not have to be facing this shame right now.

“I already thought of that! Let me finish.”

“Ok ok….go ahead tough guy.” Tsu’tey grunted again before taking another deep breath.

“As you know…I shot her with my bow.” Jake just nodded listening intently. “Well that is because she followed me into the forest. She stalked me like prey and refuses to tell me why she was there.”

“Why are you asking me this? If she doesn’t want to tell you, you shouldn’t pester-”

“AGH! I know that! I must know though. You must know something about it you are Olo’eyktan.”

“Brother…I don’t know if she wants you to know.” Tsu’tey was growing more concerned by the second. What were you hiding from hi? What did you feel you could not confide within him?

“Please Jakesully. Please.” Jake knew it was serious when he begged, Tsu’tey never would have begged if it weren’t for something serious. Shaking his head Jake was now the one who was taking a deep breath.\

“Those wounds brother.” He pointed to the man gunshot wounds on Tsu’tey’s chest. “Those are the reason.”

“I do not understand. Why would me being shot make her follow me? She was not there when it happened.”

Jake wore a sad smile, laying a hand on his shoulder. “She was the one who found you Tsu’tey.”

He wasn’t responding to your calls through your neckpieces. “Tsu’tey? Do you copy? Please c’mon c’mon.” You begged he was alive as you rode deeper into the forest, looking eagerly for your Tsu’tey. Your heart was pounding, it felt as if you were about to throw up. Everything around you was loud, the animals screeching, the machinery exploding and the people screaming. Though that noise stopped as you saw a large blue figure sprawled out on the forest floor.

Your heart stopped and jumped out of your throat. Your hands were shaky as you walked closer to the figure. Please don’t be him. You prayed but those prayers were not heard. Because when you noticed his signature necklace adorning his battered body you let out a blood curdling scream. Nothing was loud anymore, not louder than the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears, pounding at your skull.

“MA TSU’TEY! NO NO NO!” You had fallen next to his limp body grasping his large hand in yours. The blood was overwhelming. You tried putting pressure on the wounds staining yourself in his death. His chest was still rising, a soft breath in and out as you pleaded with Eywa. “Oh great mother please! PLEASE! Do not let me lose this man. Oh Eywa I beg of you.”

Your pleas were drowned out by your own wails. Racking your chest as you cried into his weak body. “HELP US PLEASE. I NEED HELP PLEASE!” Your screams were lost to the sound of forest. Tears staining your face like his blood stained your hands. It felt like hours you laid there listening to his shaky breaths as you wept. “Y/N!” It was Jake, he rushed towards you. “Shit.”

“Please, help me take him back. He is still breathing. Please Jake. I need to get him help.” You looked crazy, blood shot eyes and blood down your arms and torso.

“Neytiri! We need backup!” Jake called before rushing over to Tsu’tey. You were holding onto his hand tightly.

“Your getting help now Tsu’tey. You will be fine.” You whispered into his ear following him onto Toruk with Jake.

You cradled his head in your arms. Still wailing as Jake tried to calm you down. Nothing could take away from the fact that you were holding your first loves dying body in your arms stained with his blood. You swore to yourself that you would never let this happen again. You would protect the might warrior who protects all.

Jake continued to tell Tsu’tey about how you didn’t leave his side until he woke. That everyone tried to tear you away from Tsu’tey’s sleeping body but you refused to let him out of your sight.

“She never wanted you to know about that day. She didn’t want you to know that she loves you. I mean man, sometimes I can still hear her screams from that day.”

Tsu’tey was frozen. You followed him, because you were afraid of losing him? Because you loved him? He felt those heart flutters he tried to push down, turn into thumps. You loved him?

“She follows me because…she is afraid?” Jake nodded patting his back. Tsu’tey was usually a stoic man, but all of his emotions were on his face. He was confused even though the truth was revealed. How long had you loved him? Were you always following him? Was he constantly blind to your affections or was he wilfully ignorant due his fear of loving again.

“She follows you because she can’t lose someone she loves. Which I think is something I would be afraid of too.” Tsu’tey nodded slowly, still trying to reel his thoughts back together.

“She loves me?” A small smile was apparent on his face. He was in disbelief. You saved him that day, you never told him. You lived every day keeping your love buried down. He was to dig it back up. Because…he thinks that he loves you as well.

“It’s obvious Tsu’tey.” Jake chuckled standing up wiping his hands of dirt. Giving Tsu’tey a hand to help him up.

“I love her too.”

“Once again brother. That is obvious.” Tsu’tey chuckled at this patting Jake on the back before giving him a brotherly hug.

“Thankyou Jakesully.” Then he took off immediately calling his ikran to find you in the forest. This rush of adrenaline was going to lead him to you. He can’t let his fear of love stop him from getting to you, not when you loved him so dearly.

You were collecting herbs and plants to bring back to Tsu’tey to thank him for taking care of you while you were injured. It made you blush thinking of how diligently he cared for you. It made you hope he had some feelings for you.

It was like you manifested his presence as you felt the soft breeze turn into gusts as the large ikran flew above and landed next to you.

“Tsu’tey? What are you doing here?” Tsu’tey hopped off his ikran and stood right in front of you. It was odd how he just stared into your eyes, refusing to break eye-contact. “Tsu’tey?”

“I know why you followed me.” Your heart dropped. Did Jake tell him? Did he fly all this was to tell you ‘thanks for saving me but I do not love you.’ Your face scrunched up, chin wobbling worried that he was going to make fun of your obscene methods of ‘protection.’

“There’s a reason I didn’t tell you.” Your voice was sharp and upset, but Tsu’tey didn’t flinch. His eyes were full of joy, it confused you entirely.

“You saved me Y/N. I am forever in debt to you.” You grimaced at his words. Was he going to butter you up so he could nicely reject you.

“It is what a friend does.”

“I can no longer be your friend.” He wished he didn’t say it so abruptly when he saw your pained expression. Your heart felt as if it shattered as you took a step back from him. Looking away to stop tears bursting out of your eyes. “No! Not like that.”

“Just reject me Tsu’tey. I understand you do not want to love after what has happened to you, it is selfish of me to hope.” Tsu’tey shook his head taking one of your hands in both of his and bringing it up to his mouth to kiss it gently.

“You have been there for me every milestone Y/N. For awhile my heart has skipped a beat when I see you but I constantly ignore it because I am so afraid of losing someone I love…but you have saved me, have loved me every moment. You have faced my fears of losing someone you love.” He placed your hand on one of the bullet scars and looked down at you.

“The day I was shot. I could only think if you were alright. I closed my eyes thinking of you. If I knew that I would have frightened you so badly Y/N, I would have dodged every bullet to save your heart the pain. But my negligence to your love is what has bruised your heart.”

You tried desperately not to let tears spill. After all these years of pining, it felt as if this day would never occur. “Tsu’tey…I have loved you for so long. When I saw you bleeding out I just-.” You started to get choked up, sniffling your own tears back up.

He only smiled sadly before pulling you into a tight embrace. He felt your body shake in his arms as he laid his chin on top of your head. “Let it out yawne.” It felt right calling you his beloved, he was so stupid to never act upon his love due to fear. He knew what it was like to see his love shot, he would be forever guilty for letting you find him.

“I follow you into the forest. Because I am scared that one day you will not return. Even if I had to live everyday as your friend it would be a life worth it if you were there.”

“You will not have to live as my friend Y/N. I see you.” He tilted your chin up so you could see the longing in his eyes as he confessed to you. “I am sorry for being ignorant to our feelings.”

“Do not apologize Tsu’tey. I see you.” He leaned in leaving a soft kiss on your lips. It was a kiss that was long needed between the two of you. It felt like your heart swelled and burst as you rested your hands on Tsu’tey’s chest as you kissed him passionately.

His hands pulled you closer to his body, as he kissed you back. Love spilling into each other as you broke the kiss to rest your foreheads together.

“I can’t believe I went so long without kissing you.”

“You should make it up to me then.”

────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────

authors note: i wrote this very sick so plz forgive me if there are typos or anything! i am in my tsu'tey obsession rn so help fuel it for me. love ya'll <3

tags: @fanboyluvr @evelinakostina @tarrynightss @citruskasa @netesbby @xx-mayday-martyr-xx (tagged everyone who replied to the post)

#tsu'tey x reader #tsutey #tsu'tey imagine #tsu'tey #tsu'tey x y/n #tsu'tey angst #tsu'tey avatar #tsu'tey fluff #tsu'tey fic #jake sully #james cameron avatar #avatar #avatar headcanons #avatar oneshot #tsu'tey oneshot #atwow #avatar imagine #avatar fanfiction

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unknowntoyou2205 · 23 days ago

Text

Sweetheart I love you

Info: Devastation follows the Shelby family everywhere, but Tommy always had his daughter. That was until Grace came into the picture.

Relationship: Tommy Shelby x daughter reader

Tommy Shelby was a man of many things, but one thing he wasn’t was someone people would call kind. Coming home from the war changed people, but the one thing it didn’t change was the way the Shelby man was towards his daughter. Before the war Tommy had had an affair with a woman, and the encounter had led to a little girl to be born and left on the Shelby doorstep. At first Aunt Pol had been furious with her nephew, but one she saw the way Tommy was with the baby girl, she instantly melted. Heartbreak was evident in the father daughter duo when the time came for all men to be called to the war, and the last memory Tommy had of his daughter was the five year old screaming in her aunt Ada’s arms, arms outstretched for her father to come back to her. Her little head didn’t understand why her father was leaving her, but hearing the words ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can’ meant to her that her father wouldn’t be coming back.

When the Shelby boys returned, y/n was nearing the age of ten, and her memories were shallow of who Tommy was. While Tommy expected y/n to run into his arms, she had thrown him off when she grabbed hold of Pol’s hand, refusing to leave the older woman’s side. Pol chuckled at the young girl's antics, and pushed her towards her father, leaving the joke of ‘you’re his problem now’ to cause the girl to shyly giggle, finger hooking the inside of her cheek as she looked into her father’s blue eyes.

“Hey love, remember me?” Tommy gave her a slight smile. The slight smile caused y/n to grin back at him. “Daddy.” The girl squealed, jumping into her father’s arms. “Hey sweetheart.” Tommy breathed, cupping the back of her head before linking the other under her legs to lift her up. “She’s so light.” Tommy muttered with slight worry as he kissed the side of her head. “Perfectly healthy for a ten year old Tommy, you needn’t worry.” Polly reassured him with a slight smile, watching the reunion.

Letting the young girl down, Tommy extended out his hand to y/n’s and he smiled at the feeling of the little hand in his as they began their walk home, y/n excitedly telling him of her school and how she had been getting on.

---

The years that followed the war were spent with Tommy working hard to provide for his little girl. Y/n got everything she needed as she grew up, and Tommy made sure she got the best. Each afternoon y/n would come home from school and sit in her father’s office in the betting room with her father, her on one side doing homework while he’d be on the other going through the paperwork. She’d enter the office on a daily basis and pull Tommy away from his work with a kiss to the cheek before sitting on the extra chair left for her, having a small chat with the man before starting on her homework. Y/n was his life, and he would often bring her to the pub with him and her uncles, until a certain bar maid came.

“You know you shouldn’t really bring her in here.” A blonde woman stated to your father as she gave him his whiskey. “Ain’t doing no harm, are ya love.” Tommy spoke, looking down at his daughter fondly. “Nope.” The 14 year old popped her lips together. “I meant for her, she shouldn’t be around drunks.” “What’s your name?” Y/n watched as her father’s eyes narrowed at the barmaid in front of them. “Grace.” The woman spoke confidently. “Well Grace, here’s a thing you should know. Y/n here is my daughter, and if she asks me to leave, we’ll leave. Until then, don’t judge the way I parent my daughter, alright.” Tommy spoke to the woman harshly, leaning on the bar to move closer to the woman. “Yes sir.” The woman gulped slightly at the dark look on the Shelbys face, and she watched as it softened when he felt his daughter's hand in his. “Come on dad, I want to talk to uncle Arthur about the horses.” y/n tugged on her father’s arm. “Go on love, I’ll be in shortly.” Tommy nodded his head for y/n to leave to the back room where the Shelby’s usually sat.

“She’s a lovely girl.” Grace nodded to the back of the girl's head as Tommy watched her till the door closed behind her. “Yea.” Tommy breathed before clearing his throat. “Give me another one of these and some pop for herself.” Tommy ordered as he downed the whiskey she had given him. “On the house.” Grace stated as she slid the drinks over. “Thank you kindly.” Tommy nodded at her before leaving to where his daughter was chatting with John and Arthur, her back slouched against the older uncle.

---------

Y/n could only watch as her father and Grace became unusually close. She wasn’t used to her father giving a woman attention, he had stopped that shortly after he returned from the war, after y/n walked in on him having an ‘encounter’ with a woman. She had run out of the room crying to Arthur, who was more than happy to play protector for his niece while she refused to talk to her father. It was days before Tommy won her over again, and was annoyed that all it took was buying her a new teddy and allowing her to come with them to the pub.

There was something about Grace that y/n didn’t like, but she wasn’t sure what. The feelings that Grace had for her father were evident, and y/n couldn’t help but feel that despite her fathers emotionless expressions, it was clear that there were some feelings for Grace. These feelings became more evident after she brought him to hers to get away from those who were looking for them.

It wasn’t long till Tommy had sat his daughter down to tell her the news of his engagement with the blonde woman. Being unsure of the woman y/n had her doubts, but Tommy had shot them down straight away.

“Not you too y/n.” Thomas groaned, throwing his head back lightly. “I’m sorry daddy, there’s just something about her I don’t trust, especially since the time she outed us.” Y/n stated, standing from her seat. “We’ve all outed each other at some point.” “I haven’t.” Y/n muttered, crossing her arms as her father gave her a harsh look. “Y/n please, I love her and..” “More than you love me?” Y/n asked, eyes widening at the words coming out of her father’s mouth. “How could I, you're my angel disguised as a devilish child.” Tommy smiled, placing a hand under her chin. “When do you marry?” “After the birth.” “Birth?” Y/n asked, confused on how Grace could be with child outside marriage. “Yes y/n, you're going to be a big sister.” Tommy stated, pouring himself a whiskey. “How does a woman come to be with child outside marriage?” Y/n squinted at her father who almost choked on his whiskey. “I think it’s time for you to get ready for bed.” The father stated to his daughter, trying to get away from the topic. “But I would like to know so I don’t wind up with child.” Y/n whined. “Trust me, you won’t be able to do that for a long time.” Tommy breathed, placing a hand on his daughter's back to guide her to her room.

------

The wedding was anything but small, with the guests coordinating mostly Grace’s side of the family. Y/n was left with the job of looking after her baby brother Charlie, much to the annoyance of Grace, who kept watching the girl with her son with a glare. Y/n couldn’t help but feel unwanted at the wedding so she stayed to the side, blending in with the crowd. The only interaction she had was with Arthur and Linda throughout the night. Tommy spent the day beside his new wife, and only came to her once to tell her to put Charlie to bed for the night. Y/n couldn’t help the panging feeling in her chest, seeing her father with his new family, the three of them at peace.

The following few days were spent with y/n heading to school. On her last day her father had promised he’d be there to see her graduate, but all she saw was Polly and Ada. The father daughter duo were meant to go out for y/n’s first drink at the pub, but when she returned home and went to Tommy’s office, they only had the chance to say hello before Grace turned up, claiming that Charlie was looking for his father with only a glare being sent her way before the couple left. Y/n winded up calling Arthur who gladly took her out to the garriston with John. Arthur was beginning to become more a father to her than her own, and that made y/n sad. She winded up staying with her uncles that night, with Linda tucking her in for the night with a kiss on the head.

When she returned home, she was greeted with a slap across the face and she gasped, holding her cheek as she looked up. Grace stood in front of her with a sharp look, Tommy close behind her.

“How dare you not come home last night. You had Tommy worried sick.” Grace shouted at her. “What the fuck.” Y/n cursed at her stepmother. “Y/n.” Tommy scolded his daughter, giving her a hard look that made y/n shrink back. Tommy never gave her anything but kind eyes. “I was at Arthurs for the night after going out for a few drinks. You know, the ones dad was meant to bring me on.” Y/n stated, glaring at Grace before turning her attention to her father. “Tommy was with Charlie last night, he was restless looking for his father.” Grace stated. “Yeah, and I graduated school and was looking forward to having my first drinks with my dad but instead he ditched me for his second family.” Y/n spoke out, throwing an arm out for dramatics. “How dare you. We are more family to him than you are. After all, you're just a bastard that was born outside of marriage.” "Grace." Tommy sighed, seeing her daughter's eyes tear up. "Well she is." "Technically your son was one too Grace, don't forget that." Y/n spoke through gritted teeth. "Doesn't change the fact that Tommy took you in out of pity." "Grace." Tommy shouted, only to be cut short when y/n bolted up the stairs. "Y/n"

TOmmy called after his daughter as he followed her up the stairs. He stalled when he heard Charlie cry out for him as he passed the boy's door. Hearing the cry, y/n turned back to look at her father as he looked between his son and daughter. Her vision turned to Grace as she came up the steps.

"I swear if you choose them instead of me again, I am out of here." Y/n warned, and she watched as Tommy's eyes softened. "Y/n...." "Tommy, can you ask someone to get him a bottle of milk while I go to him?" Grace spoke, placing a hand on his back as she moved past him. "I had a feeling." Y/n muttered as Tommy moved back to the stairs.

Not sparing another thought y/n made her way into her room and quickly packed a bag before heading out. She took one look at Tommy as she left, and he went to call her only to hear his son cry.

----

The following weeks y/n stayed at her uncle Arthur's place, away from Tommy. She had wound up at his door without a jacket, and Arhur was shocked to see the young girl shivering on her own. After hearing the story he was livid, and had wound up at Tommy's door, shouting at him, ignoring as Grace pleaded with him to stop.

Tommy had become out of character after his daughter left their home. He spent most of his time in his office when he was home, and even that was rare. Majority of his days were done on business, where Arthur would give him the cold shoulder when they were out of sight. He stopped running to Charlie's side each night during the cries, and would often find himself falling asleep on his desk, not turning up to bed with Grace. Grace had grown fed up with her husband's attitude and decided to organize a party. Wanting the best for his wife, Tommy agreed, on the condition that y/n would come.

It was Arthur who told y/n of the extravagant party Grace was organizing. She wasn't surprised of the news but she was shocked when Linda handed her an invite that was quite obviously her fathers writing. She remembered looking at her father and him nodding at her, convincing her that going would make her higher than him, even if he wasn't attempting to interact with her.

Tommy looked forward to that day, when he would see his daughter again. His attempts to see her had always been in vain, as she wasn't at Arthurs when he was, and he wasn't sure where she went during the day. His thoughts were broken as the barman told him someone was on the phone for him.

"Tommy, you got to come." Arthur's voice came over quickly. "Arthur?" Tommy asked, not understanding what he was saying. "It's y/n Tommy. She's been hurted, badly." "Where.?"

----------

Y/n had been walking back from her new job as a secretary in the doctors office. It took some convincing to get the job, with the Shelby name hanging over her. They told her she could have it so long as no Shelby came near the place, they weren't wanted unless they needed health care. Her hours were generally 9-5, so she always got out when the sun began to set. The roads were always busy on her way home, which was how she never heard her attacker until they grabbed her from behind.

She didn't remember much, but she did remember the sound of a gun, and multiple screams around her. The next she was on the ground, holding her side as she gasped for pain. It was evident that something had happened based on the sering pain she felt, but she was afraid to look. Her vision was clouded as she seen a figure coming towards her, caressing her cheek gently.

"Y/n love, look at me. Stay awake okay." Arthurs voice travelled to her ears, and she tried to speak.

"Arthur." She spoke softly, Arthur wouldn't of heard it bar he was paying attention to her. "Sh, don't speak. Somebody get a fucking doctor." He screamed the last part, hoping someone would help them.

The last she felt was two sets of hands moving her before blackness surrounded her.

The next time she woke up, she recognized her surroundings to be A room in the doctors office. The smell of cleaning supplies were evident and the feeling of rough sheets was present on her skin. The throbbing of pain was felt on her side, and she moved to look down before a hand was felt stopping her. The rough hand grabbed her arm and she followed it to the person who sat beside her, recognizing them as her uncle.

“Hey.” She spoke weakly, her voice scratchy. “Hey love, how you feeling?” Arthur spoke softly, rubbing her arm in comfort. “Sore, really sore.” She groaned, trying to move and get comfy. “No need to strain, I’ll go get the doctor.” Arthur comforted his niece, moving to get up. “No, stay please.” Y/n begged, quick to grab Arthurs arm. “Your in pain, he can help you.” “I don’t want to be alone.” She spoke groggily. “Well you pick a bad place to work if you don’t like it here.” Arthur joked, causing y/n to smile weakly. “Where’s dad?” Y/n asked, licking her lips. “Called the Garriston and told him, he didn’t say nothing when I told him.” Arthur explained ,and y/n looked down. “Maybe get the doctor Arthur, I can’t sleep with the pain.” Y/n requested and Arthur smiled sadly at his niece. “I’ll be right back love.” He kissed her head before leaving.

Y/n kept her vision low, even when the doctor came by to check her over. She felt lonely, even with her uncle there. All she wanted was her dad, and he hadn’t turned up when she needed him most. His little girl was in hospital after an accident that was no doubt caused by him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why the men had came to her, and attacked her out of everyone present. If it wasn’t for Arthur being there, she would probably be dead.

“Why were you here?” Y/n asked her uncle when the doctor left. “Finn heard some block talking about taking down the Shelby girl, doesn’t take much to know who.” Arthur explained, taking y/n’s hand in his. “Oh.” Y/n stated, before turning as the door was heard opening.

Tommy rushed through the streets towards her daughters work place after the call from his brother. The nurse and doctor gave him a glare when he barged through the front door, but he didn’t care to ask them where his daughter was as he opened all the doors. His breathing was ragged as he found the correct one, and he stopped to take a look at his daughter. Y/n was there, lying in bed, with Arthur by her side as their attention turned to the open door. Y/n could only look at Tommy as he took in her appearance.

“Y/n, my sweet girl.” Tommy breathed, rushing to the opposite side of the bed to take her face in his hands. “Daddy?” Y/n asked, moving away from his touch. “Are you hurt?” “No, she’s lying in bed for no reason.” Arthur spoke roughly, causing y/n to look down. “ A shot to the side. Fainted with the shock. Just the pain really.” Y/n explained, shrugging her shoulders. “Y/n love, look at me?” Tommy asked. “You can go back to your new family now that you know that I’m okay.” “Arthur, give us a minute yea.” Tommy stated to her brother, who looked at his niece before leaving after getting a nod.

“Y/n love, I am so sorry for what Grace said to you. She had no right to. And you should know that in no scenario is that true.” Tommy spoke softly, crouching down to be eye level with y/n. “You didn��t stop her.” Y/n stated. “She’s my wife…” “And I’m your daughter.” Y/n spoke sharply, glaring at her father. “I know you are y/n, and I love you so much but the thing is with marriage, you have to..” “Don’t.. Your marriage is not one to idolize. Allowing your wife to speak so poorly to your daughter is not something to be proud of.” Y/n stated, shaking her head. “Please forgive me y/n, okay I know I made mistakes. But I’m your father…” “Arthur has been more of a father to me than you lately. He protected me when I needed him to, you didn’t.” Y/n spoke sharply, hitting a nerve for Tommy. “Y/n please, let me make this right.” Tommy begged, placing a hand under y/n’s chin, wanting his daughter to give him a chance. “I want to, but how do I know that Grace will separate us again.” “I won’t let her okay. I…. I will talk to her alright, make her know that you are just as much family as she and Charlie are. Sweetheart I love you okay, I will do anything to have you back home with me.” “I really want to believe you.” Y/n spoke, looking her father in the eye. “Than do, let’s get you home and we can have our time back. Tonight, you and I by the fire, talking about our day, just like old times. “I think I’m going to stay with Arthur for tonight dad.” Y/n looked down at her hands, playing with her hands a little. “Y/n..” “I can call by tomorrow and we can do something.” Y/n suggested, and her father looked down. “Sure, whatever you want.” Tommy stated, nodding his head as smacked his lips together.

Y/n smiled as Tommy looked back up at her. Seeing the tears in his daughters eyes Tommy moved to bring her into a hug, cupping the back of her head as he kissed her forehead.

“I love you Sweetheart.” He mumbled in her ear. “I love you too dad.” Y/n breathed, relaxing into his touch.

#peaky blinders daughter #tommy shelby x daughter #tommy shelby #shelby family #shelby daughter #arthur shelby x niece #arthur shelby #grace burgess #charlie shelby #tommy x grace #grace shelby

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matchamilkislover · 10 months ago

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White Horse, 1. (a.a.)

pairing: knight!abby x princess!reader

cw: fantasy!au, fem!reader, eventual displays of fighting and violence bc it’s fantasy, kind of slow burn?, tension, reader has an attitude, tall af!abby bc size difference, royalty!au, mentions of arranged marriages, some mentions of au politics, abby in armor is a warning in itself

synopsis: you are the youngest princess of the royal family that rules over your kingdom, Aphrynia. now a young adult, you’ve come of age in a tense time, and your personal protection is of utmost importance — which is why the resignation of your previous personal knight means a rushed reassignment ceremony with little to no preface. That being said, why does the name of your new knight sound so familiar?

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is gonna be so trope-heavy and romantic and cheesy and i don’t even care i’ve been giggling and kicking my feet this whole time

⊹ ⋆｡˚ ————————— 𓆩♡𓆪 —————————⊹ ⋆｡˚

“Princess, you really do need to get up.”

You groaned, rolling over in your excessively comfortable bed as your lady’s maid, Nina, started forcefully pulling the many blankets you had covering you off. Your proper mind knew that she was right, that you needed to get ready, but the pounding in your head begged otherwise; and right now, the pounding side was winning. You tried to sit up and open your eyes, but the bright sunlight instantly blinded you, causing you to groan and fall back again. Nina sighed.

“Either you get up, or I’m calling George and he can drag you out himself.”

That made you sit up. You’d had enough of your second eldest brother ripping you out of bed throughout your childhood to last a lifetime. Your legs already felt a phantom soreness at just the thought.

“Okay, okay, I surrender, I’m up…” you grumbled, swinging your legs over the edge of the mattress and tenderly standing on the cold floor. Nina rolled her eyes as she started gathering materials for you to bathe.

“I told you to ease up on the wine last night,” she scolded as you started shedding your nightclothes and trudged to your washroom.

You rolled your eyes in response and yawned. “Don’t judge me! You would let loose a little too if you knew it was your last night before getting assigned another overbearing knight,” you replied dramatically. These were the times that you both loved and resented that you and Nina had known each other since childhood; sometimes she knew you a little too well. Nina just chuckled and followed you.

A while later, you were clean and dry. And cold. You shivered as Nina helped you slip layer after layer of your intricate clothing on your body. “Why is it so frigid in here this morning? I can literally hear the fire going,” you whined as another shiver made your arms shake. Nina shrugged as she picked up another layer.

“The mornings have been getting colder lately,” Nina remarked thoughtfully. “Perhaps an off the shoulder dress wasn’t the best decision the seamstress could’ve made for today’s gown.” She grimaced as she eyed the off the shoulder masterpiece waiting to be adorned.

Your pout spoke for you. Even so, you had to admit the gown was rather lovely. The gauzy pink seemed to shimmer in the light, and you couldn’t help but stare at it in the mirror once you had finally put it on. Nina, however, still anxiously watched the time and rushed to finish getting you ready.

For whatever reason, one you weren’t exactly keen on understanding, being assigned a personal knight was something of a ceremony in the royal family, and was therefore to be treated as such. And ever since your former knight, Mattheo, had resigned not even a fortnight ago to wed and begin a life outside of his knighthood, you had been assigned a rotation of lower knights while a replacement was decided on. While you couldn’t blame Mattheo for wanting to have a different life and a family, you couldn’t help but resent his leaving just a little bit; he had been your personal knight since you were young, and you had grown to trust him like an uncle or a father. Whatever young, overconfident knight you would be assigned now would not be nearly as tolerable, of that you were certain.

Nina’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and reawakened the pounding in your head. “Princess? Princess, we’ve got to go,” she harped, placing a guiding hand on your back. “Wouldn’t want to keep everyone waiting.” You nodded in agreement and started walking, trying your best to hide the grimace pulling at your face.

You could barely keep up with Nina’s quick steps as you navigated the corridors of the palace, your shoes clicking on the polished stone floors. “Nina,” you muttered through panting breaths, “You know you can slow down a little bit, right? It really isn’t that serious,” you pointed out. Nina shook her head.

“Sorry, princess, but I’m under strict orders to get you there on time. Promised the queen,” she replied with a wink sent your way. Your mouth gaped while your brows furrowed.

“Seriously? For a knight assignment? The fuck…” you muttered back, still grumpy from your hangover and unending headache. Nina clicked her tongue at you in disapproval.

“Princess! Language!” she scolded, holding back a giggle and not quite managing to suppress a tickled smile. You made an amused face in response and you both had to struggle to hold down your laughs as you passed knights and members of the court in the long corridors.

As you finally turned onto the corridor leading to the throne room, Nina cleared her throat to get your attention. “Please try your best not to seem hungover, princess,” she muttered through clenched teeth, “lest the queen come for my head.” You both stifled one last giggle before the doors to the throne room opened, and your arrival was announced to the small crowd standing inside.

You took a steadying breath, blanking your face as you delicately walked forward, desperately hiding your fight not to wobble in these godforsaken shoes. You kept your gaze steady on the front of the room, not wanting to risk an offhand glance at the crowd interrupting your focus.

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief when you reached the front and stood in place amongst your siblings, ignoring George’s knowing smirk and Elyssa’s disapproving look. Like always, your eldest brother, Philip, stayed as stone-faced as ever, and Henry, the fourth sibling, gave his best attempt at matching Philip’s ever-serious mood. Although he was closest to you in age, only being 18 months older, the two of you couldn’t be more different. He never seemed to possess the itch for mischief and adventure that you did, and instead followed your eldest brother like a puppy and tried to copy his every trait. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes and turned towards the rest of the room.

Glancing at you to acknowledge your arrival, your parents rose as one, and your mother’s voice rang out in the spacious throne room. “Welcome, esteemed guests and friends, as we conduct our youngest daughter’s knight reassignment ceremony on this lovely morning. As many of us know, our youngest has quite the…lively spirit, and as she reaches marrying age, we’ve found it impertinent that we find a unique knight to ensure her safety amidst the happenings of that lively spirit.” A soft chuckle carried through the room, and you had to suppress another eye roll as your mother – the “ever-esteemed” queen – basically called you a burden who needed watching. Great. Exactly what you needed this morning.

Your mother continued her speech. “While the knight we’ve chosen for her assignment may not have the age to match her rank, her experience and accomplishments make her quite the perfect match to guard our lovely daughter. Thus, Knight Anderson, will you please approach?”

Your mind came to a sudden stop. ‘Her’? Your new knight was to be a female knight? Well that certainly makes things more interesting. And her name…Anderson. It sounded oddly familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. A young female knight, a respected, high-ranking one at that, was to be Mattheo’s replacement? Certainly she wouldn’t be quite as easy to slip past. But you had gotten creative over the years…

Your racing thoughts mixed with your eyes searching the crowd for this ‘Knight Anderson’, but came to a sudden halt when the knight finally stepped through to the front of the crowd, and the sight of her left your mouth hanging ever so slightly ajar. Although it had certainly matured since the last time you saw her, you would recognize that face anywhere.

9 YEARS AGO

Abigail Anderson was going to be the death of you. No matter where you went, she was somehow there, ready to show off and drive you up the fucking wall. Since her father was the royal family’s physician and a childhood friend of your father, and the two of you were so close in age, the two of you had been shoved together since you could read, and you couldn’t resent it more. She never failed to take an opportunity to prove herself against you; whether it was her intelligence in tutoring sessions, or showing off her strength and size outdoors while exploring or riding, if the chance was there, she took it.

You were both twelve, and while you were able to spend more time apart, tutoring and riding lessons were still spent together. You had started spending your free time with the daughters of the court members, while Abby spent her time training for knighthood or whatever it was that motivated her to sweat in a dirty training ground for hours a day. It wasn’t like you paid it too much regard; you were perfectly happy spending tea with your friends that you could actually relate to before retreating to the palace library to spend afternoons reading and exploring different worlds.

On one sunny spring day, Abby had shown up late to your joint riding lesson, and you were already annoyed since George had ruined your favorite riding boots by dropping them in a boiling, soapy wash basin while the maids weren’t looking, only for them to be found hours later and sorrowfully returned to your chambers. The twat. So when she came jogging up to the stables, your glare was already set upon her, and she preemptively rolled her eyes.

“I know, I know, training went over,” she retorted to your glare in an annoyed voice, raising her hands apologetically at your instructor.

You continued glaring as she saddled her horse and mounted the steed, flipping her braid behind her shoulder. Sensing the tension and not wanting to be a part of it, the instructor casually instructed the two of you to take a simple ride through the naturalistic grounds surrounding the palace during your normal lesson time. You nodded curtly and took off in a simple trot, Abby quickly following and settling into a matching trot beside you.

“Heard about what happened to your boots,” she remarked casually, not even glancing your way. But you knew what she was doing, and you already weren’t in the mood for it. She kept pushing anyway.

“What a waste,” she continued, clicking her tongue. “You poor thing, how will you ever survive?” You could feel her smirk without looking. Trying to be the bigger person, you only sighed and kept ignoring her.

She laughed. “What, don’t want to admit that you’re upset over a pair of boots? It’s okay, you are a princess, after all.” Even though she was right, it wasn’t like you wanted to admit it to Abby, of all people. You really liked those boots! Princess or not, you were allowed to be upset about it! You could say that, but it’s not like Abby would care. She’d just keep teasing you about the boots, or poking you about some other stupid thing that was sure to push your buttons. So you kept your head straight forward and kept riding. She wasn’t satisfied.

“Too good to talk to me now, are you? You’d rather be at a prissy tea party with your prissy friends?” she said, mocking a posh accent and expression as she spoke. And you just snapped.

“You know what Abby, just because you don’t like me or think I’m shallow or spoiled for whatever reason, that doesn’t mean you have to go after my friends too! You don’t even know them! You know, I don’t think you even know me like you think you do, so why don’t you just shut up already,” you exploded, taking off on your horse like a bullet and leaving Abby shouting after you in the dust. You heard her call your name after you a few times, but you ignored her, clenching your teeth as your resolve hardened and you quickened your pace even more.

By the time Abby started galloping after you, you were too far ahead to hear her. You just kept riding and riding, not stopping until you reached the creek that bubbled along one of the far edges of the palace grounds. Hopping off your horse, you gently smoothed the mare’s chestnut hair as you watched the clear water run up and over the rocks in the creek. Remembering what Abby had said, you clenched your other fist and loudly groaned in frustration, holding back the urge to go as far as to stomp on the ground.

You took a deep breath to steel yourself as you heard hooves approaching quickly from behind you. Abby called your name again, but you barely even turned your head, fist still clenched. She scoffed and dismounted, walking up to you casually.

“You know you can’t ride off like that,” she remarked. You continued to ignore her. “C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” she continued, leaning to try to get in your line of sight.

You only scoffed in reply and turned away, speed walking along the creek bed. Abby kept following you, reaching out to grab your arm once she was close enough. You gasped angrily and whipped around, hair slinging from side to side. You tried to pull away, but her grip was tight. And you panicked. No one had ever grabbed you like that, and you were so shocked, you couldn’t help but go into panic mode.

“Will you– let go– get your hands OFF of me–” you shrieked, starting to flail and struggle in her grasp. Abby also began to panic in response to you, and before you knew it, you were slipping on the creek bed, and the two of you tumbled into the creek, a tangle of limbs and shocked exclamations as you fell into the surprisingly icy water.

As soon as you hit the water, you gasped, inhaling water instead of air and immediately choking. You floundered, desperately coughing and trying to eject the water from your lungs. Finally, your flailing arms found a large rock to land on, and you started pulling yourself out of the water. At the same time, you could hear Abby climbing the water as well, and you got distracted, your hand slipping as you crashed back down into the creek. Another breath of water infiltrated your mouth and throat, and you continued to choke and cough, unable to gain enough footing to grab back onto the rock. Finally, a pair of stronger arms latched onto your own, stopping your flailing to pull you out of the water and onto the creek bed.

Flopping onto the ground, you coughed out the remaining water from your lungs until you could finally take clear breaths, anger returning with the consistent oxygen. You shot up suddenly, cutting Abby off as she opened her mouth to ask if you were okay. “You are despicable, Abby Anderson! Despicable!” You shouted as you pushed hair out of your face and straightened your soaking clothes. “I am leaving. You need to give me time to return my horse and escort myself inside, lest I see your despicable face and decide to strangle you once and for all!” You continued as you mounted your horse, giving her one last dirty look before riding off as fast as you could.

It wasn’t until the next morning when Abby wasn’t present at your lessons that you discovered that she had left for official training. And no matter how angry you were at her, you couldn’t help but be at least a bit disappointed that she hadn’t said goodbye.

THE PRESENT

Your mother’s voice was all but muted background in your head as you watched Abby – apparently now known as ‘Knight Anderson’ – approach you and your family at the front of the throne room. A lump settled in your throat, and your mouth felt impossibly dry watching her armored form get closer and closer. You barely registered your mother reciting practiced phrases as Abby knelt in front of her and bowed her head towards the queen. It was like you were outside your body, watching everything happen, only an observer as Abby stood and she and your mother approached you. You were sucked back into your body as Abby knelt in front of you, taking one of your polished hands in hers and bowing her head towards it.

“Knight Abigail Anderson,” your mother began, her voice confident and steady in contrast to the nerves that rocked your body, leaving you lightheaded. “Do you solemnly vow to dedicate your life to the protection and safety of the princess?” Abby looked up at you through her lashes, and you felt like you could faint.

“I do.”

#abby anderson #knight!abby x princess!reader #knight x princess #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby fic #fantasy!au #royalty!au #princess!au #knight!au #wlw #lesbian knight #lesbian princess #matchamilkislover

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ourfag · 7 months ago

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conversation topic: dogs in the city. tiny dogs that scamper and gallop bc their legs are so short. big dogs that can't possibly fit in an apartment. purse dogs. dogs in outfits. also babies in hats. actually just what's the convo when they r browsing a lovely farmers market. 💐 happy sunday hope the weather's nice where u r

ed: oh fuck me, look at that one

stede: which

ed: there. that. i’m—pointing with my fucking elbow, look—

stede: d’you want me to take something? i can carry—

ed: just—shut up and look at that fat little baby, look

stede: oh. oh my lord

ed: with the pom poms

stede: i see what you mean

ed: little fuckin—

stede: on his booties

ed, a full octave up: on his little booties look

stede: i love when they’ve got the hats that make them look like starfish

ed: is he supposed to look like a starfish?

stede: little points on his hat. starfish arms

ed: that doesn’t look like a starfish, it looks like a jester

stede: what? no it doesn’t. the points are sticking straight up, that’s a starfish

ed: how many starfish have you seen whose arms end in jingle bells

stede: i—

stede: the world is vast, edward.

ed: see i just think—

stede: must i be accountable for every species of starfish?

ed: —if there’s a starfish with jingle bells then you’re the kind of person who’s gonna know it off the top of your head

stede: i’m sure there’s one out there

edward: ok. is this like when i floated the idea of horse with wheels

stede: ……well, not—

ed: it’s practical, save the horse a lot of effort

stede: —it’s unlikely. it’s unlikely

ed: see that’s a useful feature. what’s a starfish gonna do with a jingle bell

stede: i don’t know! celebrate??

ed: doesn’t even work underwater

stede: maybe it just wants to feel fancy once in a while, you don’t think a starfish ever wants to feel fancy?

ed: spaghetti dog

stede: that’s—now you’re just hybridising

ed, pointing in an altogether different direction: no, look, there’s one of those spaghetti dogs, look

stede, following ed’s elbow to an italian greyhound: ooh spaghetti dog

ed: spaghetti dog

stede: that one’s got a jacket on. stylish

ed: didn’t you say starfish were carnivores?

stede: it’s houndstooth though. is that a bit too on the nose? sorry—

ed: no you have a point

stede: —what about starfish and carnivores?

ed: oh, just—if the starfish’s got bells, won’t its prey hear it sneaking up

stede: well you said it yourself, bells don’t really work underwater

ed: huh

ed: now you think about it that’s actually—that’s kind of depressing

stede: oh no

ed: sorry i didn’t mean to—

stede: no, starfish baby dropped one of his little pom pom booties, look

ed: oh shit—aw look at his little toes he’s gonna get cold

stede: should we go over? is that—would that be weird?

ed: i dunno, maybe, but like, also kind of badass?

stede: …badass?

ed: yeah like we’re starfish baby’s bodyguards or something. like we’re not gonna smother him but we’re just—

stede: on the outskirts, right? to make sure he won’t be mobbed for autographs

ed: right cuz he’s a celebrity baby

stede: but then when he needs assistance, we’re—

ed: “you dropped this, sir”

stede: and then he takes it, very businesslike, because he’s a professional

ed: and he understands what we’re saying because he’s a genius baby as well

stede: yes

stede: well—normal babies can do that too

ed: what, understand you?

stede: yeah. i believe so

stede: what? what’s wrong?

ed, in quiet horror: i have said so much stupid shit in front of other people’s babies

#this took a while bc my brains been moving around a little and now its two sundays later sorry 😭#thank you though! the weather HAS been nice it’s been raining a lot and the wetlands near where i walk is full of moss and skunk cabbage #i hope your day is wonderful too 🌸💕🧄#this whole farmers market convo is taking place while ed’s arms are full of alpaca yarn btw. he’s in the middle of a crochet era

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blueishspace · 2 months ago

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Looped Sun 8

Loop #282

Scott knew that he was lucky, he had so many bits and storylines that the world tree wouldn't typecast him like he did loopers from other loops... Still, sometimes he could forget how repetitive could be. He definitely wasn't forgetting it any time soon, not after 4 loops of straight up just being a skeleton.

Loop #285

This version of Double Life was going to give Grian a migraine... Or Grain he guesses since everyone's names were just wrong... Jimmy was Timmy, Ren was Ron, Etho was Efo and the worst offender... Martin. Grian was tempted to just die and go to Hermitcraft but was deathly afraid of what the rest of Hermitcraft will be called in this loop.

Loop #287

Pearl loved this loop... at first, she got to be a coffe shop barista without the annoying customers that usually come with the job, she didn't mind the coffe shop au fanfic-ness of it as long as she got to have fun. Then a genocidal villain crashed into the windows and she realized exactly what kind of loop this was. Listen, that villain wasn't even a good one (she was one a few lopps ago and she was way better at it) so ahe didn't really care about them. The most entertaining part of the loop was ignoring the plot every time it appeared, even when the story actively twisted to bring her towards it.

Loop #289

Scar ... Well he was a bit offended? He didn't usually get offended easily but being treated like he wasn't capable of stuff wasn't really nice... So of course he woke up in a loop were he truly was unable to do most thing he normally could do. He was used to being unable to use his legs, it was like 30% of the loops, but guess he upgraded to just not being able to do anything... He didn't even get a motorized wheelchair this time around.

... Unlucky for the loop he always carried one of those in his pocket but still.

Loop #292

Mumbo was a bit miffed by this loop... a bit unchuffed even. He knew that spoons were a bit of his thing... everyone knew that. But looping in a room full of spoons...and only spoons seemed a bit unoriginal to him? It wasn't just him that saw the problem, right? ... Hopefully someone was going to come soon.

Loop #295

Grian: Mr. Strange Sir?

Doctor Strange: It's doctor Strange.

Grian: Right... you have the time stone here...right?

Doctor Strange: I do. Why?

Grian: Right, uh in my loop as long as the loop starts before a certain point I get access to an infinity gauntlet... Back in baseline it was just a game but in some variants they are actual infinity stones. Could you teach me how to use the time stone?

Doctor Strange: Perhaps, the time tone is very dangerous you must understand. You will need be patient if you don't want to destroy the pillars of reality.

Grian: ... ...Understood.

Loop #297

Scott: Be not afraid.

Pearl: Scott?!? Why are you glowing.

Scott: Last Loop I was in Marvel and accidentally fused with the Tesseract last loop.

Pearl: ... Mate...

Scott: Yes?

Pearl: HOW DID YOU ACCIDENTALLY FUSE WITH THE TESSERACT!??

Scott: ... I wish I could tell you but I don't know either.

Loop #299

Mumbo liked spiders well enough, he understood why people didn't like them but he found they weren't too bad.

*knock knock, who is it mr.spider? It's ms. fruit and she brought you some flowers. Mr spider doesn't eat flowers*

Mumbo feels he's going to be forced to change his mind soon.

*knock knock, who is it mr.spider? It's mr. Horse and he brought you his son. Mr spider wants more*

Call it a gut feeling.

Scar was alone... He had been alone for a while. A long while. He didn't know loops could last this long...or maybe he was just stuck there. He had started crying at some point a while ago, his tears turned into mist which was kinda weird. He felt like he should like this for some reason, like somone was whispering to him that this place was good...but...he hated this so much. He wanted Grian and Mumbo and Pearl and Scott. He didn't want to be alone. He never wanted to be alone. And maybe it was this realization but the mist slowly settled away.

Pearl had looked at the incoming mist and she became angry, truly angry, she wasn't going to be alone again. If this loop really wanted a Double Life Pearl then it will get what it wants. Running in the woods with her pack of hunting wolves, creeping and stalking behind her pray is the most fun she had in a long while.

Scott was in space? Scott liked space despite all the times he saw it. It was giant, ever changing, immense, vast. He was just a point floating in a black void filled with stars and comets and so much there is still to discover. It is truly beautiful. He doesn't mind staying in space a bit more... But he should bring other to view this beauty with him.

Grian... well... Grian didn't know how to feel he imagined he would loop in this world eventually considering his status as a watcher... But he expected to loop into the world not... He didn't expect to loop as "The Ceaseless Watcher". It was weird, it was like being a sea connected to other seas, he could feel the other dread.gods melding and mixing in points of his being... He couldn't wait for this to end.

Loop #302

A band? And Pearl got synth? Oh this was going to be fun!

Mumbo: I don't know about this...

Mumbo was at the drums, he had taken a few lessons with Impulse a while back but he didn't... he was worried about performing.

Scott: Come on Mumbo you are going to do great!

Mumbo: I just-

Scott: Scar and Grian agree with me.

Mumbo: They do?

Grian: Of course! You got this Mumbo!

Scar: Yeah!

Mumbo: A-alright!

Loop #305

Grian had already stated what he tought about all the dsmp loops lots of time... Still, getting to rescue Tommy from Dream had been nice, it just took going sun titan mode with a hints of dread god and the green hooded man ran away. Now come the issue, he couldn't exactly adopt Tommy.

...

That's exactly what he ended up doing, to be fair it was hard to say no to him considering the context. Still, it wasn't like bad, despite the swearing Tommy was a good kid.

...

Grian might have gone full sun titan again and got Tommy's disk back... it was his birthday and Grian knew that the loop was close to ending.

Loop #307

The newest vote had made everyone's head giant, they looked like enormous babies... It was really unsettling the longer they looked at it.

Grian: Mumbo! Your head is so big!

Mumbo: Wha-

Scar: ... That's what she said.

Grian: SCAR!

Mumbo: Oh-

Scar: Wait no I'm sorry!

Loop #310

Grian: Are we siblings Pearl?

Pearl: ... What do you mean mate?

Grian: Sometimes we are twins, sometimes we are siblings, sometimes we are cousins, in this loop we aren't related at all...

Pearl: Yeah?

Grian: So do you see us as siblings?

Pearl: I mean, I never tought of it really... do you?

Grian: Yes? No? Maybe? It's complicated, that's why I was asking what you tought.

Pearl: Do you want to try?

Grian: Try?

Pearl: Try being siblings, see if it works?

Grian: I... alright. Siblings it is.

Pearl: Siblings.

...

Grian: Akward sibling hug time?

Pearl: Yeah, watched Gravity Falls recently mate?

Grian: It has a lot of eye imaginery, just preparing for the inevitable.

Prev Next First

#trafficblr #hermitblr #traffic smp #hermitcraft #grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #scott smajor #pearlescentmoon

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dragonfruits02 · 4 months ago

Text

a list of my favorite spy school funny moments/quotes

- “What the heck are powdered nutgalls?” Chip asked. “It’s what you get after riding a horse at high speed for an hour,” Mike grumbled, gingerly adjusting the seat of his pants.

- Jemma Emma Dilemma

- “Or Agent Kumquat,” Chip added, and then both of them cracked up.

- Alexander glared at him, still smarting from his insult. “See if I ever buy you campfire treats again.” he said, and then stormed out himself.

- “Not necessarily. I could like them as a friend.” “First of all, you don’t have friends.”

- “Parcheesi?! I loooove Parcheesi.”

- “I lost the arm and the leg, but not the eye.” “Oh, how’d you lose that?” “A bug flew into it.” “Uhh, you don’t lose your eye if a bug flies into it.” “You do if it’s your first day with a hook.😒”

- “Although believe it or not, Nefarious actually got off easy. According to his file, his folks named his little sister Placenta.”

- “If there’s one thing I know, it’s women.” Murray exclaimed.

- Now that he had transformed into Hot Murray,

- “How good is your vision?” Mike asked. “It’s off the charts,” Erica replied. “I eat a lot of carrots.”

- “Supposedly the guy was a big jerk, and the peasants all rose up against him and burned him alive, and now his ghost roams the property, looking for a… fire extinguisher or something like that.”

- He was at the base of an extremely tall elm tree, speaking into a radio microphone and seeming far more lucid than usual—although the moment he saw Chip and Jawa, he went right back into his doddering act. “Skip and Yaya!”

- “Dad, I’m going to need you to act like you have no idea what’s going on.” “What?” Alexander asked, confused. “I don’t understand.”

- “Wow! Our pool at spy school didn’t have water slides.” “Really? What did it have?” “Bacterial contamination.😕”

- “So, this girlfriend of Mike’s…is he super into her, or just kind of into her?” “He’s mentioned marriage. 🙂”

- “I think plenty!” The principal said defensively. “My mind is a constant whirlwind of thinkery!”

- “Erica!” Alexander gasped, mortified this had happened in front of so many people. “We do not spit on our grandfathers in this family!”

- Paul Lee leaned close to me and whispered, “Has he uh..uh…had some sort of, um, brain injury?” “No.” I replied. “This is how he was born, I think.”

- “Erica! You’re driving on the wrong side of the street!” “I’m not driving on the wrong side.🙄” Erica argued, gunning the engine. “They are!”

- Chip pegged him in the face with another pair of boxers. “Warren, stop playing with my underwear, you pervert.”

- “Now? Here?” “National security is at stake.” “It was at stake this morning when I was having waffles in the cafeteria. We couldn’t have discussed this then??”

- “All these men are itching for a fight. And since I’m the alpha male here, they’re going to come for me first!” Alexander said. “The alpha male.?🤨” Catherine asked, amused. “Yes! It won’t look good for them to attack women or children, so they’ll attack me first!” “And me.” Murray seconded nervously. “I’m definitely the beta male here!”

- “Neither does Jawa. Why aren’t you suspicious of him?” “Jawa’s a freak of nature. You’re just a freak.”

- “Hey! Where’s my breakfast?” The woman socked him in the face. Murray reeled backward. “Okay! No tip for you!” He said, then collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

- I quickly replaced the skull and wiped my hand on my shirt. “This is sooo not how I wanted to spend my first day in Paris.” OKAY DRAMA QUEEN?

- “West Virginia?” Claire Hutchins called from a few rows up. “I thought that was all strip mines and inbred hillbillies.” “You heard wrong.” Chip shot back. “As you can see, there’s plenty of wilderness here. And the locals are far less inbred than the royal family.”

- “Do you not care one wit for your country?” “No! I care many wits for my country!”

- “What have you done?!” He screamed at us. “What have you done?!” “Well, it’s obvious,” I said. “We’ve blown up a rebel minivan.”

- Murray sighed. “I know you’ve got issues with Ben because he turned you into half the man you used to be.” (About Joshua)

- “Talk about being heavily armed.” Mike said. (Also about Joshua)

#spy school #ben ripley #murray hill

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violetsaffron5 · 2 years ago

Text

Lemon

Taglist • Ao3 • Social Media • Discord 18+ • Masterlists

Pairing: Toji x f!Reader

Toji comes home from a long day of gambling to his one true love

words: 900

cw: oral, sex toys

an: this is a love letter to my friend @lemonlover1110 💛this is the most unserious thing I have ever written

cover art: ilameys

Toji walks into the front door of his tiny studio apartment, kicking off his worn sneakers, and letting them fling into the room without a care in the world.

He sighs, running his hand down his face before rolling his shoulders and placing his fists at the center of his back, arching around them until his spine pops in several places.

“I’m home. Where are ya?” His gruff voice calls out, tired from a long day at the race track. He’d have brought home dinner, but he lost all of his money betting on the wrong fucking horse.

The inside information he had gotten was bad. He should kill the motherfucker who sold him the bad statistics, but that will have to wait because he has a new job he was just hired for.

Toji walks into his kitchen, grabbing one of the plastic cups he has kept in a stack off on the corner before filling it with water and downing it all in one gulp.

“Ah. There you are, pretty thing,” he grunts out as he slams the cup onto the counter, bending and crinkling the cup in his heavy-handed grasp.

There you are, indeed. Laying on his bed, just as he left you.

Long legs draped over his bed, overtop his single pure polyester sheet, hips, and waist curved sensually as always, laying on your side, so inviting, waiting for him to join you.

The two of you have been together for quite some time, a few years now he would guess, and you’ve always been there for him.

Each time a relationship goes into the pits, and nothing goes right, you’re always home, waiting for him. You never scream, or cuss and the two of you have never been in a fight.

You wear that same tender smile you’ve always worn, since the day you met, and you’ve always been so kind to him. Kinder than anyone.

Truly, you’re a girl sent from up above. He has his problems, but next to you, he can whether anything, the good times and the real fucking bad times too.

He knows you love him too, that even if you could leave him, you never would. It’s why he likes to dress you in lingerie he stole right out of the display case at the sex shop, and he likes to paint you in the makeup he grabs off the shelf when he thinks that shade of red would just look perfect on you.

Toji has no money, but if he did, he would spend it all on you because you deserve to be treated like the queen you are.

Toji walks over to his bed, sitting on the edge, helping you move so you’re in front of him.

“You look mighty pretty like this,” he compliments, running his thumb over your face, as you stare up at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

Nobody seems to understand him, not in the ways you do. You lay there and do everything that he’s ever asked without complaint. You listen to him talk and vent about how fucking stupid everyone else is.

And if you could talk back, he knows you’d agree.

But you don’t need to talk, not when there are so many other things you could be doing together. Which is why he’s freeing his hardened cock from the confines of his pants.

He’s been thinking about coming home to you all day, and when he lost all of his money, he knew you would happily come to his aide, providing the best stress relief possible.

Toji’s cock is red, tip sticky with precum, want, and desire as you so delicately and gently wrap your lips around his hard length.

“Oh, fuck. You’re so fuckin’ good,” he groans in relief, holding you at the back of your head, forcing you to take all of him at once, immediately.

You don’t complain.

He ruts his hips up, bobbing your head for you with reckless abandon, throwing his head back in ecstasy, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he moans out, “You always take me so fuckin’ well.”

You keep going, letting him fuck into you like the toy you are until his legs are shaking, cock twitching at the back of your throat. His vision goes white, groaning out your name as he paints your mouth white with his seed.

A whole new generation of Zenin’s gone to waste. His clan would be pissed.

Toji helps move you back onto the bed, where you’ll lay and wait for him again before he wipes the sweat off his brow. He tenderly and lovingly wipes away the little bit of cum that’s dribbled out of your mouth, shoving it back in with a smirk.

He’s always loved how real your skin feels - like an actual human laying awake, waiting for him to return.

Toji was able to order you through a sale online, the best discount he ever waited for, almost seventy-five percent off sex toys on eBay.

He adjusts his pants, making his way back to the front door, putting on his thin black shoes.

“I’ll be back later. Gotta go kill a couple of fuckin’ kids.”

@petalsrdead @sofiaconlaz @lovelylashawnalee @s-witch-bitch @watyousayin @desthevirgo @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @musababy @sagejin @ritsatoru @faewithsnakes @erenputurchildreninsideme @lex-dear @hvziers @babybae-shisui

#jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #violetsaffronfic #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #oneshot #drabble #violetsaffrondrabble #Lemon #fushiguro toji x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #toji fushiguro #toji fluff #toji fic

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year ago

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Y’know what I just realized, Pinnie? I have a terrible fear of heights. And Adrul is like what, almost 10” vs my 5” ass.

Of course I’ll beg to be put on his back, it’s not everyday a lesser is allowed to ride the Prince of Perdition. The moment Adrul starts walking though, I’ll quietly say “I want off this ride or I’m gonna puke”

I imagine riding Adrul is similar to riding a horse, so how does the Prince react if his love accidentally goes upside down while holding onto his stomach in a death grip? Adrul would have to pry me off because I don’t trust him not to drop me.

Adrul has to rub his temples to try to understand your thought process. Did you just... Casually forget your fear of heights? He's charmed you trust him enough to not think twice about getting on his back, but this is ridiculous.

You're not allowed to ride his back until he's one hundred percent sure that you won't vomit on him.

Riding Adrul is kind of like riding a horse. However, with many more legs and a segmented body comes a level of dexterity that allows him to be so much more. If you did slip, and attached to his underside like a scared animal, the prince would naturally startle.

After telling you to cling to his body, he will start lifting, standing on a smaller number of legs. He holds your head to his front so that you don't get scared further by the added height. He's very careful when he holds you and is patient in coaxing you to let go safely.

Don't ride too far down his body, stick to his back and grab onto his torso.

#Adrul oc

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animasolaoriginal · 6 months ago

Text

(8) I n n o c e n c e L o s t

He finds her in a brothel of all places. A chance encounter, but one that will change his life – and hers – forever. – or: A story about a cowboy who falls in love with a prostitute, who happens to be so much more than that.

GENERAL TAGS: NSFW! Explicit! Size difference, age gap, slow burn romance. Cowboys, outlaws, prostitutes. Historical inaccuracy. Horses, guns, violence.

Chapter 1▫️2▫️3▫️4▫️5▫️6▫️7▫️8▫️9▫️10▫️11▫️12▫️13 ...

Chapter 8: The Connection

m!OC x f!OC -- WORDS: 5.7k -- READ ON AO3

when conflicts turn into cravings

Chapter 7 -- Chapter 9

There are two conflicting things inside Nebbia's head.

One is just: kiss. How he kissed her, that he wants to kiss her, his lips, his mouth, his tongue, the scratch and tickle of his beard. The breathless, warm sensation. Kiss.

The other is: father. And there's the conflict, because she doesn't know what to think about that. Doesn't know how a father should be. She still recognizes the problem: fathers shouldn't kiss their daughters. Right? Not like that! But then she also doubts he actually is her father. Just because they share a dimple? Is that enough?

But their connection is there, that tension between them, how easy it is to be around him, how safe she feels. Is that how a father should feel like, or is it just Ben? In his protective, caring way, the gentle giant, holding her so cautiously while also handling her like a doll, picking her up, carrying her around, moving her how he wants to. Is it just their size and age difference?

She doesn't need a parent, never has, never will. She needs him for something else. To be there, hold her, kiss her, do more things to her... Things a father shouldn't do.

But then: does it matter if he is or isn't? She told him it didn't, and honestly: they'll never know. There's no proof, just that little dimple. She's noticed it on his face before, only on the right cheek, just like hers, but she's never drawn the same conclusion he had. So he knew her mother, loved her mother, about twenty years ago, give or take some months (nine?), but is that enough as well?

If anything, it is just strange to think that he did those things to her mother that she wants him to do to her. Though, to be fair, at the end of the day, Keira was just another woman in his life (and she bets he's had many), just another body he can press his against.

The concept of mother and father is something she will never fully understand. Madam Claire hasn't been a mother figure, none of the other girls or women in the brothel have been, and Ben is not a father figure, despite his age and size and demeanor. He is just Ben. And she refuses to think of him as anything else. It won't change her feelings for him anyway.

Feelings. That's the warmth in her stomach when he touches her, the shivers on her spine when he leans closer and whispers into her ear, the little throb between her legs when he looks at her, with those dark but warm eyes, when she looks back into his rough, handsome face, searching for that little smile that so rarely grazes his features, that makes her heart flutter.

Right now, her heart is close to exploding. She feels like a rabbit cornered by a wolf – if the wolf had warm hands and strong arms, holding her protectively against himself. She inhales deeply but quickly, rough little gasps, more air in than out, trying to calm herself after whatever happened just now. (Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.)

Ben is warm beneath her, against her, around her. Her fingers stroke his thick dark hair (much darker than hers), messing it up even more. She slowly relaxes into the embrace, coming down from the unusually intense moment (just a kiss...). She's done so many other things with her mouth before, but this has felt special, like an explosion of some kind, on her lips, on her tongue, on every inch of skin that he has touched.

She moves her head and presses her forehead against his neck, taking another deep breath, inhaling him, while her hands smooth down the back of his head, until she puts them on his shoulders and leans back, meeting his gaze, shifting on his lap. His dark eyes are intense, black on one side, a deep glowing amber on the other where the sun hits his face. A soft smile (that smile!) curls his lips, and she can't help it, she smiles back, it's contagious.

His eyes shift to her cheek, but she ignores the sight on his, doesn't need to see that dimple. It doesn't matter. Instead she moves her hands up and puts her palms on his cheeks, rubbing over his beard. He watches her, patient and calm. She is tempted to move back in, kiss him again, kiss him for the rest of her life (if only she could live off just his kisses, what a wonderful world that would be!), but her own body betrays her as a loud rumble breaks through the quiet moment of just them, the birds and the hum of the forest around them. And Thunder snorting just a few feet away from where they're sitting on the small porch.

Ben smirks at her. “Hungry?” While she blushes, looking away with a groan, he moves one of his hands to her stomach, gently spreading his long fingers on it, giving it a soft press. “I'd say you could use some food, huh? Skinny little thing that you are.”

She huffs, wanting to pout, but his hand on her stomach feels too nice, so warm and comforting. Looking down at it, she puts her own hand on his, scoffing a laugh at how small hers is in comparison. She feels his warm breath on her forehead before he leans in and presses his lips to it.

“Come on, let's see what can we're opening today. I think I'm in the mood for some peaches,” he says with a chuckle, shifting beneath her. More than reluctantly, she grabs his shoulders and gets off his lap, then steps back and holds out her hands for him to grab.

“Need help, old man?” she teases with a smirk.

He throws her a dark glare, but the corner of his lips curls up into a smirk of his own. He grabs her hand, but instead of letting her pull him up, he pulls her back in, and suddenly his hands are on her waist as he flings her over his shoulder. She yelps in surprise, clawing at his back as her world is turned upside down. He gets to his feet, hurling her up with him, one hand on her rear, the other hooked around the back of her knee.

“Ben!” she screeches, her hair falling over her head, a sense of vertigo gripping her empty insides as she kicks her feet playfully.

He only laughs, a deep vibration through his body, and carries her back into the cabin.

The sun has moved far into the sky, casting barely any shadows as they sit on the small porch of the cabin and share a can of peaches. The air is thick, it's going to be another hot day it seems, and she realizes it must be peak summer. The few times she was allowed to leave the brothel to do laundry in the backyard, she hasn't noticed as much.

Now, sitting in the bright sunshine, wearing Ben's clothes, the cut-off jeans tied high around her waist, the black undershirt that's thin but still sticking to her sweat-slick body, and the shirt she's already discarded of and using as a blanket to sit on, are not ideal for this weather (though they are useful at night when the temperatures drop immensely). She wiggles her toes, glad to have at least a little bit of skin exposed.

“We'll ride into town today and get you some more clothes, okay? Some boots too,” Ben mutters past a bite of slippery peach before handing her the can.

She nods, fishing another piece of fruit out of the small container, her fingers wet and slick, and she barely manages to get the bite into her mouth. “Is it safe, though?” she asks, swallowing, wiping at her sticky mouth.

He huffs a grunt of confirmation. “We managed to put quite the distance in, should be safe enough. No one's behind us anyway, guess we slipped away before they could decide what to do.”

“Hmm,” she makes, eyeing the almost empty can. “Last piece, do you want it?” she asks, holding it on her palm.

“Nah, you eat it, you need it to get bigger,” he teases with a wink.

Nebbia scoffs. “But I'm already full, you're probably still hungry, hm? I bet that giant body of yours needs it more,” she teases right back.

He watches her for a moment, a strange glint in his dark eyes. Slowly he leans in, closes his long fingers around her hand and holds it still while he grabs the last piece of peach between the forefinger and thumb of his other hand. “Open up, missy,” he grunts, smirking at her.

She tilts her head, unable to keep the grin down. When he leans even closer, she opens her mouth, tongue out, flat and wide, and waits with her heart beating faster. He puts his fingers to her mouth, the sweet, slippery fruit touching her tongue, and she tastes it and him, feels the warmth of his fingers against her lips – and she can't help but close them around his fingertips. It's almost an instinct.

His gaze darkens, his jaw clenches, and while she gives his fingers the slightest hint of a suck, pulling them slightly deeper, he groans, removes his fingers and replaces them with his mouth as he captures hers for a deep, searing kiss that causes her to gasp in surprise. His hand grips the back of her neck as he pulls her towards him, quickly slipping his tongue between her lips, licking around the inside of her mouth, and she tastes the peach on her tongue and him, more of him, and before she knows it, he leans back again, swallowing audibly.

She realizes he's stolen the fruit right out of her mouth. A deep blush creeps up her cheeks as she watches him lick his lips, giving her a wide smile. “Guess you were right, I was still hungry after all,” he says and winks at her. He grabs the can from her hand and drinks the last bit of liquid in it, then puts it to the ground and stands up.

As he walks past her to prepare for their departure, his hand ruffles her hair while she looks after him with her lips still parted. That man...

“Show me your hand,” he requests after he drops the bags next to her a few minutes later, crouching down with a stern look on his face. She frowns, shifts on her knees and extends her hand, having already forgotten about the cut she's gotten from climbing through a broken window in the middle of the night. It feels so long ago, it's only been half a day.

He takes her small hand into his larger one, turns her palm up, moves his thumb gently over the bandage. It sticks to the wound, and the fabric has darkened a little. She watches him remove it carefully, trying not to wince, and he keeps his eyes on her when she can't control her reactions. Her heart races, and it's not the slight pain of the cut, but the intimate gesture that makes her stomach churn.

She's still trying to make sense of all these emotions whirling through her, the conflicting ones as much as the overwhelming ones, the ones that make her yearn for more. He's just tending to her wound, cleaning it with cautious dabs of a cloth soaked in alcohol, then wraps a new strip of bandage around her palm, his long fingers working with confidence and ease, while she has to force herself not to shiver whenever there's skin to skin contact.

There's a faint taste of copper on her tongue when she realizes she's bitten her lip hard enough to draw blood. Being done with her hand, Ben looks at her, then raises his own to wipe his thumb over her bottom lip, his dark eyes wandering over her mouth before they move higher. She meets his gaze, her heart fluttering, stomach tense and warm, and that obnoxious throb somewhere lower makes it hard to breathe.

“We should go,” he then says, quiet, a low hum in the air between them.

She swallows, nods, licks her lips – and his thumb by accident because she's too focused on his face than to notice his hand still holding her chin. A smirk plays around the corner of his mouth, and before she knows it, he's leaned in and gives her a short but sweet little press of his lips to hers, not even a proper kiss, just a brushing, and it's enough to make her cheeks warm up even more.

“Come on,” his voice wafts to her ears, and he stands up and grabs her elbow to pull her onto her feet.

She's back on top of the giant horse, sitting sideways in Ben's lap, gripping the horn of the saddle tightly, his arms around her as he guides Thunder through the thicket of the forest. The vertigo of being so high up is still there, but as it's midday, and when they finally leave the forest, she can at least focus on the horizon, vehemently trying to ignore the ground so far below her.

He's asked her to put her long hair up into a messy bun, and he's secured it with one of those black bandanas that are tied around one of the saddle's straps. Conveniently placed should he ever need to hide his face while on the back of the large animal. With everything happening she has barely had time to think about the Wanted posters he's shown her. About his past.

Robbery. Theft. Murder. Being an outlaw, wanted by the law. Just like her mother.

She turns her head slightly and looks up at him. He looks different in the daytime. Messy dark hair shimmering black and brown and auburn in the sunlight, locks moving with every up and down of the horse, his brown eyes are glowing, warm and inviting, his skin weathered and tan, the darkness of his beard not as full as at night, almost a little patchy, sprinkled with the hint of lighter hairs in between, trimmed but also a little messy in spots, thicker above his lip and around his chin. Rough looking, but she knows by now that she likes the tickle of it on her sensitive skin.

“Do I have something on my face?” he suddenly asks, lips (oh the shape of his lips) curling up into a smile, stretching his beard over his cheeks, exposing the dimple.

“Uh,” she stammers, clearing her throat, feeling a deep warmth creeping up her neck. “Yeah, a lot of hair, actually,” she tells him and sticks her tongue out playfully.

His laugh resonates through his body, moving into hers. He tightens his arm around her waist and pulls her closer, holding her securely in his embrace while he leans down a little, and before she can pull her tongue back fully, he's captured her mouth, giving her tongue a gentle suck, then kisses her softly (a sudden explosion behind her eyelids, sweet tingles on her skin, a somewhat familiar heat rushing into her stomach) before he leans back up again, licking his lips.

“Cheeky little thing,” he rumbles, and she blushes even more, giggling quietly. His eyes focus back ahead as Thunder trots along a path through a wide field, the forest long behind them. But she doesn't really pay attention to her surroundings, she's still looking at Ben. “Anything else I can help you with?” he whispers without looking at her.

She coughs slightly and looks away. “Is it really safe?” she then asks quietly, turning back, trying to see their destination in the distance. “Going to town?”

“It is,” he says confidently. “Nobody knows us there. Don't worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“I doubt anyone will recognize you looking like this,” he replies, shifting the reins into the hand around her waist to raise the other to pat the messy bun on top of her head. “And to be fair, I look like every other man of the West, or the wild. And,” he adds, leaning a little closer, his rough cheek scraping against her soft skin, “we're just going shopping, sweetheart, nothing to be worried about. Most shop keepers are very discreet...”

“And you're not gonna rob them?” she asks bluntly, turning her head back to look at him out of the corner of her eye.

He laughs, nosing her cheek before leaning back. “No promises,” he says with a wink.

“Ben!” she calls out in a mixture of shock and playful indignation.

“No robberies today,” he sighs, his hand moving down to grip her nape gently. “If you insist...”

His touch sends shivers through her body. For a moment he leaves his hand there, long fingers curling around her neck, teasing at her throat. She swallows hard against them. Eventually he slides it down along her spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake, then it's back, resting on her thighs as he passes the reins into that hand again.

She's gotten quite used to Thunder's constant bumping motions, the up and down, the swaying. Somehow the giant horse moves rather smoothly over the flat terrain, his heavy hooves seemingly barely hitting the ground. What she's not gotten used to yet (or ever will) is how Ben's subtle touches make her feel now. They seem even more exhilarating, sending more shudders down her limbs, warming her from within, fueling the throbbing between her legs.

Now the combination of the horse's movements and Ben's touches is really not ideal. She inhales sharply and tries to focus on what lies ahead. Shopping.

The town is small, smaller than the one she's lived in her whole life (not that she's seen much of it, though), it's just a dirt road and a couple of old wooden buildings on one side and a vast open field on the other. A saloon, hotel, general store, a stable at the end. Not many people around, only two other horses parked outside the bar.

She's relieved. Ben guides Thunder towards the front of the general store and swiftly hoists himself off his back with a wide swing of his leg and a heavy thud when his boots land in the dirt. Without much hesitation, he grabs her waist and lifts her off as well, his touch strong and reassuring, but too short for her liking.

While Ben grabs the reins and wraps them around a pole near the steps leading to the porch up to the store, Nebbia readjusts the tight belt around her unusually high-waisted jeans (she still feels particularly small in his pants, the legs are too wide, the cut off edges fringing and tickling her feet, the form just doesn't fit, and frankly the rough fabric chafes a little between her legs with how high he's pulled them up). She's rolled up the sleeves of both the undershirt and the warmer plaid shirt, but it's not helping in the scorching heat of the sun.

So going shopping actually sounds pretty good right about now.

Ben holds out his hand to her, and she puts her smaller one onto his palm and smiles a little shyly, before he leads her into the general store. A little bell above the door announces them when they enter the rather dark room. Shelves line the walls, filled with various boxes and cans and other containers, and she wonders if she'll get clothes here after all.

“I'll be right with you!” calls a voice from somewhere in the back, and she realizes there must be more rooms. “Take a look at the catalog while you wait!”

Her confusion grows, but Ben leads her towards the counter and pulls a thick book towards himself, flips casually through the pages while squeezing her hand a little. She watches him, watches his long fingers moving the printed pages, how the veins and tendons on the back of his hand move under his tan skin. She's slightly distracted by the sight, imagining his hands elsewhere, and when he suddenly steps around her and places those hands on her shoulders, she gasps softly, turning her head to look up at him.

“Pick something,” he whispers softly, nodding towards the book in front of her.

She blinks, then looks back, noticing a section full of drawings of women in various clothes. Dresses, skirts, blouses, even pants and belts, shirts and vests. She flips through the pages, so many options, coats, jackets, shoes, even underwear. Bloomers, long and short and very short, chemises and nightgowns, corsets, various pieces of very revealing lingerie. She blushes at the drawings, biting her lip.

As if she hasn't worn most of those things herself before, has seen real women wearing them. It does feel like a very long time ago, even though it's been barely two days now, or less? It feels more, at least it's been a couple of very long nights, that she can say.

The clerk joins them on the other side of the counter and together they decide on quite the collection for her. She's highly embarrassed to discuss her clothing choices with two grown men, and is even more embarrassed when she realizes that Ben has to pay for all of this. But he doesn't hesitate one bit at the large sum at the end. He only smiles, his hand on her waist as they wait for the shop keeper to gather their purchases.

(“I can give you a better life,” he's said the night they have met. But considering how he lives, tucked away in the forest in a dilapidated house surrounded by tents and wagons, she's forgotten how wealthy he may be.)

“Does the young miss want to slip into an outfit right away?” the other man calls from the back, startling her slightly. She looks up at Ben, and he only nods, giving her a gentle nudge, but she grabs his wrist and shakes her head, pressing her lips together, the idea to be alone in a room with a strange man sending cold shivers down her spine, the bad kind.

He frowns, but then nods, his features darkening slightly. “Of course, forgive me, I'll come with you,” he says softly, grabs her hand and leads her into the backroom where the clerk stands in front of a wall of various garments and dresses and other clothing items organized on racks. There's a partition screen in one corner, some more boxes and shelves in the other.

“Well, what's it going to be?” the clerk asks with a friendly smile, and Nebbia feels almost bad that she's assumed he might harm her in any way. She looks at the clothes he's laid out for her, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Ben steps beside her then.

“Something comfortable should do, we have a long ride ahead of us,” he says, his voice low and particularly booming in the small room.

The other man nods and grabs the riding skirt they picked out, and one of the blouses, both in earthy tones, the skirt in a deep brown, the blouse in a soft beige with white stripes. She takes the clothes from him with a shy smile and turns towards the privacy screen, when she feels Ben's finger hooking around the back of her belt.

“This too,” he whispers, holding out a pair of medium long bloomers. Her eyes widen, but she grabs it quickly, then slips behind the screen, her cheeks bright red. She has no idea why she is so embarrassed, that man has seen her naked multiple times now, probably also knows how sore her bum is from riding in too big jeans for a night and a day. It's just strange to her that a man would care about her like this.

She quickly strips off the borrowed clothes and puts on the new ones. There's a floor length mirror leaning against the wall, and once she's done buttoning the blouse that feels so nice on her skin, she takes a cautious look. The riding skirt sits snug on her waist, accentuating the swell of her hips and following an almost A-shape downwards, and despite being called a skirt it's actually a two-legged pants-contraption, looking like a skirt. Should be useful for riding like a man, she thinks.

The blouse is quite form fitting, the fabric soft and cool on her skin, hugging the curves of her small breasts, the dip of her waist and the shape of her spine. The sleeves are rolled up but can be pulled down as well, for now she leaves them up, exposing her pale forearms. Watching herself, she tugs at the black bandana and frees the long waves of her hair, trying to smooth it with slightly shaking hands. But it's messy and quite unruly (maybe she should ask Ben for a brush or a comb), so she decides to braid it into a sloppy side braid instead, fixing the ends together with the bandana.

“Are you done?” she hears Ben's deep voice.

“Yes,” she replies and steps out from behind the partition screen. His dark eyes are on her immediately, wandering up and down, and she's still blushing.

He steps closer, one large hand finding her waist. “Beautiful,” he whispers, giving her a soft smile, before he blinks and looks down. “You need shoes.”

He turns back to the clerk watching them from the other side of the room, and while she still fights her rapidly beating heart, the men discuss shoe choices, and then Ben returns with a pair of black ankle boots and a pair of white frilly socks.

She gasps softly when he kneels down in front of her and grabs her ankle, she can barely put her hands on his shoulders for support. He lifts her foot slightly, one, then the other, and puts the socks on (long warm fingers sliding along her skin, squeezing her ankle), then the shoes, and when he's done, he straightens up again and nods at her, seemingly content with how she looks.

The shoes give her a few inches more to her height, but she still has to look up at the tall man who keeps smiling at her. A strange sight, but not unwelcome. Yet it does remind her of the dimple on his right cheek, much more visible now, and what it represents, supposedly.

“I have to say, I enjoy dressing you up,” he whispers with a wink, and she blushes yet another shade of red, if that is even possible. He grabs her hand and gently pulls her along, then accepts the large bag of clothes the clerk holds out for him.

“Wait!” she suddenly says, remembering something. He frowns at her, even more so when she slips out of his grip and quickly walks back to behind the screen. “Your clothes,” she says, grabbing the jeans, undershirt and plaid button-up from where she has discarded them. Fishing the switchblade he'd given her out of the pants pocket, she looks at it, then bends down quickly to secure it inside her sock, feeling it press against her ankle, like a reminder (to hopefully never having to use it).

“Oh, you don't need them anymore,” he tells her, then looks towards the shop keeper. “Can we leave those here?”

“No!” she says a little too loud, causing both men to stare at her. “I... I'd like to keep them...” They smell like you, she wants to add, but doesn't.

Ben watches her for a moment, then sighs and holds the open bag towards her. She smiles happily and puts his old clothes to the new clothes he's bought for her (another skirt, a sundress, more blouses, bloomers and a chemise). Then she grabs his arm and smiles up at him. His eyes are on her cheek before he meets hers.

It takes him a moment to move on, to break eye contact (weave through the unspoken words between them), but then he pulls her along, thanks the clerk and leaves the store with her.

Outside in the sun, the giant black horse snorts in greeting. “Look, Thunder, how generous Ben was,” she tells the animal and pats his large neck, then grabs a few sugar cubes from the pouch hanging off the horn and feeds them to him, while her eyes wander to the tall man who attaches the bag of clothes to the saddle, looking up at her words. She smiles at him. “Thank you,” she then adds quietly. “That really was generous, and maybe a little too much... but I'm grateful...”

He walks towards her, raising one hand to brush the back of his finger against her cheek. “Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispers, then leans down, his lips so close to hers, but then he drifts off and presses them to her other cheek. She hums, both in delight and disappointment.

Straightening back up, he watches her for a moment. “So, how do you wanna sit now, with your new attire?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he leans casually against Thunder's big body.

“Is it really going to be a long ride?” she whispers softly, stepping closer to him, tilting her chin up to look at him.

“We'll ride the rest of the day, yes,” he replies, watching her closely.

“Then the... lady way, I guess, it is more comfortable,” she says, mindlessly playing with the stirrup strap in front of her while her eyes wander over his face. “Unless it's not for you?”

“Any way is fine with me, you barely weigh anything,” he muses with a smirk, one of his hands moving to her waist until he pokes her side, making her squirm and giggle.

She grabs his wrist, pouting up at him breathlessly. He only laughs, then properly grabs her waist and hoists her into the air effortlessly. She can't help the little shriek escaping her. Luckily the town is still pretty empty, though she suddenly notices a shadow in the window behind Ben. The owner of the general store is watching them, and she wonders why. But then she sits on Thunder's saddle, sideways like requested, and focuses back on the tall man now climbing up behind her.

He always makes it look so easy to get up the giant animal. Once he settles in the saddle, both boots in the stirrups, he grabs her again and adjusts her position, nudging her between his thighs with her legs dangling off to one side. His hand rests heavy on her knees, holding them comfortably, while the other snakes around her back and grabs the reins.

Thunder starts moving with a gentle nudge of Ben's spurs and a click of his tongue, slowly walking past the rest of the buildings. When they pass the saloon, the swinging doors fly open and a group of men emerges, laughing and arguing, loud voices in the quiet afternoon. Ben completely ignores them, but Nebbia throws them a curious gaze.

They're all wearing cowboy hats and boots, jeans and chaps, gun holsters, some even have two, crossed over their hips. She's seen the type before, most without their pants on (or at least their dicks out), and suddenly realizes something.

“Hey, why aren't you wearing a hat?” she asks quietly, looking back towards the other men.

He doesn't reply right away, causing her to look at him instead. She catches the clenching of his jaw, but when he notices her stare, he smirks at her. “Do I have to? Am I only a real cowboy with a hat on?”

“Well, I always assumed that's part of the outfit,” she laughs.

“Outfit?” Ben chuckles and shakes his head with an amused glint in his brown eyes. “Never tell a cowboy you think he's wearing an outfit. Being a cowboy is so much more, it's a job, it's a lifestyle, not just an outfit. And you know, I don't even think I am one.”

Outlaw. Thief. Murderer. The words come to her instantly, and she's ashamed they do. He's more than those words too.

“I'm just a man trying to find his place in the world,” he muses, squeezing her knee.

She watches him in silence for a moment, biting her lip. “So am I, I guess,” she whispers, and his eyes move down to hers. “Not a man, though, obviously,” she adds with an awkward little laugh. “But –”

His voice is a deep rumble when he asks: “Have you ever thought about what you'd like to do, where you'd like to be, if... well, if you weren't born in that brothel?” Destined to service men? she adds in her mind.

“No,” she replies without much thought. “I never thought I'd actually leave that place, to be honest...”

He tightens his arm around her slightly as he spurs Thunder on to walk faster. The horse falls into a steady trot, making them bounce a little on his back. She grabs Ben's arm for support. “Well, you're free now,” he tells her with a warm gaze. “Start thinking about it.”

A shy smile makes her lips twitch. “I will,” she whispers after a moment, nodding pensively. She turns her head back to look ahead, scooting closer to him, leaning against his chest. He holds her there, shifting the reins to his other hand to wrap his arm around her completely.

There is only one answer to his question in her mind right now: with him. Wherever he goes. Whatever he does. She wants to be with him.

Chapter 7 -- Chapter 9

End notes: Kinda turned Ben into a sugar daddy in this chapter, huh? Oh well, not the worst thing that could have happened.

Remember the cut Nebbia got from climbing out of the window in chapter 6 or the switchblade he gave her? Yeah, me neither while I wrote this. Oops. But never mind that, I tried to work it in between scenes, hope it works somehow.

By the way, the whole eating out of cans and flipping through a catalog to buy stuff is blatantly stolen from Red Dead Redemption 2, as are many other things, but we'll not dwell on that, okay? It's my prime source of Wild West research.

Credits to the respective owners of these pictures. I don't own anything. I gathered these from all around the Internet. If you see your picture and would like to have it removed, please tell me!

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Friday!

AO3 -- MASTERLIST -- INSPIRATION POSTS

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neoyorzapoteca · 7 months ago

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What is the role of the translator in decolonizing translation? In your regional/linguistic focus(es), are there certain stereotypes or tropes you have to avoid? As translators, we choose which books to pitch, which books to translate, which books to promote to publishers and online. We have a responsibility to diversify the books we’re pitching and reading. And it’s not just about pitching or translating books from underrepresented countries and groups, but doing what we can to understand the place, the author’s context, what the book means in its country of origin, what it means to bring that book into English, and how to do that effectively and responsibly. And if a translator doesn’t think they can grasp the context or meaning well enough to do the book justice, then it’s important to make room for a different translator who will be able to. For me, I’ve made the choice not to translate work only from France, but to read widely from authors writing in French around the world, and to pitch and accept projects by authors from other Francophone countries. I spent a year in Morocco learning about the literary landscape there and so I have a particular connection with Moroccan literature, and hope to continue translating books by Moroccan authors. I’m also half Arab and it’s important to me to work on more books from that part of the world as well. I loved translating Moroccan writer Fouad Laroui’s The Curious Case of Dassoukine’s Trousers (Deep Vellum, 2016) because the stories are hilarious, they portray a variety of kinds of people, they foreground joy, romance, and the absurd, they also span countries and cultures, they poke fun at Morocco but also lean away from tropes. Laroui’s stories don’t only depict Moroccans, and don’t only depict Moroccans living in desperate poverty, oppressed women, desert scenes with camels, or other stereotypes from that region which tend to populate the Moroccan books translated into English. One of my favorite things I’ve ever translated was a wildly experimental short story by Anis Arafai called “The Leg,” and often people are surprised to find such inventive writing from Morocco, but why? Because translators don’t typically pitch these projects and publishers don’t typically publish them, but they’re out there. And my translation of Meryem Alaoui’s Straight From the Horse’s Mouth, coming out next month from Other Press, is about a Moroccan sex worker who is cast in the lead role in a film by a foreign director and embarks on a fantastic, thrilling life. Stories that are different than what English readers typically have access to from a given country are important to translate, and I think that’s one way (among many others) that translators can attempt to decolonize the landscape of translated literature.

Wit Month: Q&A with Emma Ramadan — The Magic Word

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broodwolf221 · 5 months ago

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okay, all the screenshots have been posted on their own. now i'm gonna have my tinfoil hat time

these ideas came from discussing these screenshots with my lovely friends <3

many of these images also appear in trespasser, so i'll be discussing that heavily. also referencing some codexes from the descent.

in the descent, there's a series of codexes discussing "the scaled ones," warriors covered with scales - or scale armor. perhaps these? this image also appears in trespasser, on one of the towers surrounding fen'harel's sanctuary, a place of prominence. assuming for the moment this is one of the scaled ones, what relationship did they have with the ancient elvhen?

or, if i'm right about the sanctuary being a dwarven structure originally, from before they were forced underground, what relationship did the scaled ones have with dwarves when they lived on the surface?

this figure puzzles me. is it an elf? a qunari? or perhaps a kossith? whatever kossith are, or were, prior to becoming the qunari we now know.

to me, these figures seem to represent enslaved elvhen. at least the top image - the "procession", if you will - appears heavily in the towers surrounding fen'harel's sanctuary, where art of enslaved elvhen would seem to make sense. in the top image, the red seems to represent vallaslin, and i can't understand what the yellow is. a sun? horns? the connection at the top, if there is one, is faint. an orb? something else entirely?

the bottom image puzzles me more. the elvhen still seem to be wearing vallaslin, but they are... within an animal's body?

a close-up of the first image, found elsewhere in the emerald graves

this image, which appears in a lot of places, puzzles me deeply. it has six legs, wings, what appears to be a horses head and horns, perhaps those of a halla or hart. what's more, there's an underlying square pattern beneath it, which looks to me like the qunari symbol

same image in the emerald graves

it's harder to tell here, but this one also looks like it might have too many legs? i've only ever seen this image in two places, and the first time - in dirthamen's temple - it was almost entirely covered up

another animal i have found in multiple places. just... lots of animal imagery that seems important. also maybe has too many legs? again? are these some of the creatures ghilan'nain created?

this one is very hard for me to figure out. it almost looks like people are riding beasts, both with great curling horns, but it could just as easily be that this is showing a herd of creatures. the one to the far right is what makes me think it's a person wearing some kind of animal cloak/mask, because its posture is very upright, but that could be stylistic. so i'm just big shrug emoji at this one but wanted to share my thoughts, vague and meandering as they are, anyway

#broodmeta

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vochka · 2 months ago

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Pet nonsense (in writing)

There was recently a post about how people who don't have pets don't always realize what the experience is like when they write about it. You're missed when you're away, some animals get very excited and run circles around you, that kind of thing. Chances are that a dog won't just lie down on the floor and ignore you when you arrive, it'll come by and be noisy and wriggly and a mess, assuming it's not too old or sick to move of course. It's alive, not a piece of furniture, so it should be a pretty interactive experience whether or not your character wants it to be at that moment.

...That being said, I also think that writers should include a bit more pet nonsense logic. Things pets do that are silly and connections they make that aren't always accurate but you can see how they got there.

For example, my dog is old and has a scar on his paw, and we were warned early on that this would never heal because he would never stop picking at it. I was surprised but no, this has remained true, no matter how many interventions and vet visits we tried to make. It has healed, but it is always at risk of being reopened because he will forever want to chew his leg like a piece of chicken.

Our solution to this is very simple. You know when you lose a sock in the wash? Yeah, we keep the 'single' socks. Those all the dog's socks. If he starts going after his leg, we put a sock on it, and then he knows he's not allowed. It's silly, but it works!

...But this also means that you will sometimes see him stealing socks out of the hamper or opening drawers to take entire pairs away and 'bury' them somewhere indoors.

He does not like the sock. It stops him from chewing his apparently delicious leg, and so clearly the problem here are socks. He now sometimes veeeery carefully tries to nip the ones on my feet to pull them away because clearly, this must be as miserable for me as it is for him. I would die for this animal.

Anyway, if you're writing about animals, especially pets, please don't make them well-behaved 100% of the time. Yes, even working and service animals! There should be moments when they are naughty, when they do something that they shouldn't, when their precious little brains jump to the wrongest conclusion possible.

And here's the kicker, that I really hope people internalize: misbehavior and malice aren't the same thing. Animals don't misbehave out of some plot against you or because they were born evil, sometimes they're just bored, under or overstimulated, afraid, nervous, or even clever but have a vastly different understanding of the world and environment than we do.

If your character has a pet, let them misbehave. Let the spiteful cat piss on their shirt because they were home late, or toss all the kibble out of their pet bowl. Let the dog bark and 'scold' them over it. Let the parrots be the most annoying things in existence at 5AM because they've decided to sing the song of their people.

No animal is well-behaved 100% of the time, and often times owners let some arguably poor behavior fester because it's cute and harmless. I have slept on my chair because the dog has taken up the entirety of my bed and I felt bad moving him, and I'll have "conversations" with him where he'll bark at me and I'll speak or bark back at him in a silly voice like a deranged lunatic.

Pets are silly and their owners are too. If you have a character with a pet that treats it like furniture, it'll at best look like an odd character but more likely like poor writing, even horses and cattle have people they like and dislike being around and how they're treated reflects this.

#writing help #writing advice #writing #writing animals

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atinylittlepain · 2 years ago

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Of Saints and Sinners - Chapter 6

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

The team starts their journey home and things start to change between her and Joel. Will she finally start letting him in? Or will he have to forget about her and whatever they had shared?

warnings | 18+ angst, canon-typical descriptions of injuries, smut-adjacent (finally)

The group spends the rest of the night in the old gas station. In the morning she tells them she wants to get back to Jackson in one trip. Joel keeps his mouth shut after their conversation last night, and it’s agreed that they’ll all keep moving, five days until they’re back home.

Alex and Steve might be fooled by her confident attitude, but Joel can see the way she winces when she hoists herself up onto one of the horses, Steve swinging his legs over behind her. One night wasn’t going to heal the damage she had been dealt, and Joel can see she’s feeling it. Regardless, the group sets off on the highway back towards Wyoming.

The days start to pass languidly by, long stretches of squinting highway and nights spent hunkered down in withering buildings. She hasn’t been talking much to any of them, only sharing faint whispers with Steve that Joel pretends to not be curious about. He’s trying hard to not be such a guy about it, but honestly that’s never been an issue until her. For the first time since the world ended, Joel Miller is jealous.

He tries to hold onto what she had told him, that Steve wasn’t her man. And the further along the journey home they got, the more Joel was starting to understand their relationship. This was an intimacy past whatever Joel was getting worked up about. This was two people who had been through everything together. Something deeper than sharing love, or blood, or a name. They had shared life, or whatever there was left of it.

He was still trying to figure out how Alex fit into this equation. They treated him like a little brother almost. Someone a little less worn than them, but still dear. What Joel saw before him was a family, the only kind that could arise in a world like this.

They’re two days out from home, settling in for the night. Her and Joel stay up while Alex and Steve get some rest in the first leg of the night, hunkering down in another cleaned out gas station.

They sit shoulder to shoulder, backs against an old beer cooler.

For maybe the first time, she speaks up first, “what kinda records do you have?”

“Don’t have many, you’ll have to share whatever you’ve been stashing. A buggy Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, Hank Snow.”

“A real country boy, huh?” She quirks up her mouth in a split grin at him. He thinks to himself, this is new.

“Well what would you prefer?” He’s playing along. It feels weird to him.

“I’m guessing you weren’t listening to much Mazzy Star before this all went down?” He looks at her blankly, she smiles.

“That’s one I did manage to find, their 1993 album, seemingly intact. I’m gonna play it until it’s worn out when we get back.” He likes the sound of that, the promise of her presence.

“Anything else?” She turns her head, resting her cheek on her shoulder as she looks up at him. “You know Elliott Smith?” Again, Joel’s got nothing. She lets out a short laugh. “How about the movie Good Will Hunting?”

“Robin Williams, right? A bunch of therapy talk.” He’s rewarded with a wide smile. “Yeah, Elliott Smith was the soundtrack to that.” Joel nods, afraid to admit he can barely remember the movie in the first place.

“He was big in Portland, where I was from, at least in the indie scene. My dad - he was a disc jockey, always on the up and up on music, always bringing home good shit for me to listen to. Elliott Smith was my favorite artist he showed me. You might like him, he’s folk-adjacent, lots of guitar.” He’s never heard her say so much at once, and even though he has no idea what indie or folk-adjacent means, all he wants is for her to keep talking. For just a second, Joel feels like he’s in a different world with her, a world in which none of this ever happened. Just two people talking about music on a normal night. And then he blinks back into reality, the still fading bruises on her neck, the bandage wrapped firmly around her arm, the way she talks in the past tense. She seems to snap back into this world at the same time, clearing her throat and looking down at her hands in her lap. He hates it, the sudden drop.

“Anyways, gotta get home first. But I’ve got one of his records too, I’ll play it for you.” Just like back in that field, Joel doesn’t know what he’s doing until he’s already done it. He reaches out, sliding his palm under her own, interlacing their fingers. Her lungs catch on an inhale, turning her face to look at him from under those damn eyelashes. His other hand ghosts over the hinge of her jaw, thumb brushing the arc of her chin. While his brain blares the what the fuck alarm, he’s leaning into her, twisting in until she does the rest, leaning up and forward into him, and it’s a kiss that could only be shared between two broken people. It’s a trembling brush, a frightened test. She squeezes his hand and he closes the gap this time. The second one is a little more certain. I want this. I want you. This is real. I’m terrified that this is real.

They freeze before slowly unfurling from each other, resting their heads back against the wall. He’s afraid to look back at her and see regret, but she breaks the silence first, “was that alright?” He thinks his head’s going to explode. She’s asking if that was alright for him?

Joel swallows, “uh-hum, yeah. Was that alright to you?” Neither of them have looked at each other yet, just glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes. He sees the sliver of her smile. “Yeah, that was alright, Joel Miller.”

…

Over the next two days of travel, she gets quiet again. Joel thinks he royally fucked up, that maybe the more she thought about what they shared, the less alright it became to her. He feels selfish, downright ridiculous, that this is what he’s worrying about. He can see that she’s still in a decent amount of pain in how she moves, sudden, wincing jerks. She won’t let any of them look at her ribs again.

Mercifully, it’s an uneventful return home. They make it back through the mountains, and their appearance on the edge of town causes a serious stir, people gathering to watch the ragged crew ride in. They dismount, and Maria is quick to take her under her arm and out of the crowd to a former doctor’s house. Joel can hear hushed whispers regarding “the saint’s” return. Back home, back to all her secrets he still doesn’t know.

Steve and Alex look at Joel, both nodding to him, before walking off towards their home. The job is over, and Joel heads home too.

Ellie is begrudgingly happy to see him return, asking too many questions that he refuses to answer. He wonders if things will return to the way they had been, an icy distance, Steve’s warning. He hopes they won’t.

…

That night, there’s a knock at Joel’s door. It’s Alex. Joel steps out, sitting with the man on the porch.

“Thought you’d wanna know, she’s doing alright. Doc did a full checkup. No broken ribs, just some serious bruising, have her taking freezing cold baths to reduce the swelling. She’s at home now, sleeping like the dead. Think she’s already feeling a lot better just being back.”

Joel nods at this, not realizing he needed so badly to know how she was doing.

Alex takes a sharper inhale, “Steve also told me to tell you he was sorry for being a dick. He’s a hard one to get an apology out of, just a little too proud.” Joel huffs at that.

“Don’t have to apologize. I get that, wanting to keep someone safe. I was happy to help you do that.” Alex rubs his palms on his thighs before standing up, turning to leave before thinking twice and looking back at Joel.

“Don’t tell her I told you this, but she told me she likes you, Miller. That’s a high compliment. Thinks you’re one of the good ones. Please don’t prove her wrong.” Before Joel can respond to this, Alex is already shuffling off his porch, walking out into the dimming night.

…

Joel tries hard to get back to business as usual. Picking patrol shifts back up, working with Tommy. He doesn’t see her around at all that first week back, figures they have her laying low while she’s still recovering. He sees Steve at the bar one night and the man nods at Joel, a silent extension of peace, a thank you.

He wonders to himself if it’s better to just forget what happened, that it’d be best to let it lay dormant, to stop thinking about her. But he can’t, the feeling of her hand in his is what he falls asleep to and wakes up with.

Joel certainly isn’t a romantic now, nor was he before. He learned not to be the hard way, with Sarah’s mom, who left him and his babygirl before he knew love was capable of hurting, of destroying. And then he lost Sarah, and with her, whatever he thought was left of his heart.

Something seemed to slide back into that space with Ellie, but now, he can feel it filling out to the brim with her, this wild, strange, dangerous woman that he still doesn’t know, not really. He tries to tamp it down, drown it out, but the thoughts of her keep pouring in. She’s ten years younger than him, and while Joel knows time doesn’t count for much in this world, it feels like a chasm, one big enough for her to not want him at all. But then he remembers that night, that shared moment, and he has to believe he’s not being a fool for feeling this way.

His mind rolls like the tide with these wonderings, these worries as he moves through the days. And then, it’s two weeks since they’ve returned, and he gets another knock on his door on a Tuesday night.

She’s wearing the same thing he saw her in that day at the childcare center, soft, faded t-shirt, grubby jean shorts, and duct-taped sneakers, a zip-up hoodie hanging loosely over her frame. He can see that she’s got two vinyls tucked under her arm.

“You owe me a turn with your record player, Miller.” A ghost of a smile in the corners of her lips. He opens the door wider, letting her slip inside.

“Yes ma’am. Was wondering when you’d be coming for a listen.” Joel can handle patrol shifts, clickers, raiders, general danger, without much anxiety. But having her here, in his space, is making him nervous in an embarrassing way.

“Doc finally cleared me for daily activities. First day of freedom since we got back. Been thinking about this the whole time though.” He knows she means the record player, but something in him still flips over at her words.

She holds up both records for Joel to see, “I brought Mazzy Star and Elliott Smith, the ones I told you about, think we can listen to both tonight?”

He nods, “Ellie’s out wreaking havoc with some other kids, won’t be around to give us any grief. We can listen to whatever you want.” She gives him one of those rare, cracking smiles. He thinks that’s all he really wants these days.

She lets him lead her upstairs, and he only now starts to realize he keeps the record player in his bedroom. Jesus christ, man, calm down. She lets out a sigh when she sees the player set up, tentatively walking over and thumbing through the sparse crate of records Joel has.

“Man, feels like Christmas morning,” she murmurs, mostly to herself. The record player is set up on an old end table, Joel sits down in the armchair next to it, elbows on his knees, watching her carefully kneel in front of the player. She lays her two records down on the floor, seemingly trying to decide which to play first.

“I think I have to go with Elliott Smith first. Haven’t heard him in twenty fucking years.” She slips the record onto the table, letting the needle catch. The opening chords of “Speed Trials” kick up and she smiles until her cheeks are rounding up under her eyelashes, eyes closed.

Joel’s only half paying attention to the music, his focus more intently on the seeming ecstasy she’s in, nodding her head with the drums, letting out a sigh as each new track begins. She opens her eyes a squint, catching him staring and he looks away, trying to listen closer to the music.

She just keeps smiling, “ah man, this last track is so good.”

I'm in love with the world

Through the eyes of a girl

Who's still around the morning after…

She’s mouthing along to the lyrics, Joel feels like he’s going to combust.

I could be another fool

Or an exception to the rule

You tell me the morning after…

She looks at him, her smile slackening as she slowly stands. She shuffles over in front of him and offers out her open palm, he takes it and squeezes lightly.

Crooked spin can't come to rest

I'm damaged bad at best

She'll decide what she wants

I'll probably be the last to know

No one says until it shows, see how it is

They want you or they don't

Say yes…

Joel stands, his and her feet shuffling until the toes of their shoes skim. She splays her other palm over his chest, fingers grazing just below his collarbone. He lets his hand furl around the curve of her neck, thumb resting on the aching roundness of her cheek.

They both jump when the needle catches the end of the record, warbling off. She huffs a laugh, eyes still caught with Joel’s.

He swears he hears his voice crack when he asks her if this is ok but he doesn’t care because she’s smiling and then she’s nodding and then she’s leaning up and in and the first kiss is soft, a remembering, a test. The second is a bit firmer, more confident. The third, she slides her palm up from his chest, to his jaw, drawing into him a bit closer. The fourth, they untangle their hands, his going to the hilt of her spine, hers draping over the tops of his shoulder blades. The fifth, he lets his palm rest heavy on her back, pressing her body fully against his. She swipes her tongue across his lips and he’s already letting her in, tasting into him. They can feel their battering heart beats where their chests press against each other, shaky and unsure of where they’re going next until Joel is cupping her hips in both his hands and gently walking her back towards the end of his bed. The backs of her knees hit the sheets and she’s stumbling back onto the bed, taking him with her as he awkwardly tries to hold himself up. She lays back and he’s hovering over her with his knee between her legs and his palm beside her temple and he laughs, really truly laughs. She brings her hand up, thumb brushing over his lips.

“What is it?” He sighs, “it’s nothing, it’s just — kinda feel like I’m back in highschool right now.” She giggles and Joel thinks it might kill him, “Joel Miller, are you blushing?”

“Mm, shut up,” and with that he’s diving back down to meet her and this kiss is different. It’s desperate, licking into each other, teeth bumping, huffed breaths, and the clicks of spit. She starts to work at the buttons of his shirt and once he catches on, he sits up for a moment, yanking the thing off over his head by the collar before settling back into her. He shivers as her palms run over his bare skin, nails grazing his back, his sides, up his chest. He dips his head into her neck, leaving nips along her throat as she gasps under his touch. She lets out a strangled whine when he brushes his lips at the hinge of her jaw. He presses back, pulling her hands with him to bring them both standing. His hands grasp at the edges of her hoodie, he sees a flicker of something in her eyes, but she still lets him shrug the jacket off her shoulders. Joel runs his fingertips down her bare arms and she shudders. He stops at the bandage around her left forearm, she looks down at the floor.

“Almost all healed now. You still gonna like me with another scar added to the list?” He frowns at that, dipping his head to meet her gaze, swooping in for a swift, hard peck. “Don’t even say shit like that,” he murmurs, bringing his attention back to the task at hand, fingers ghosting along the hem of her shirt. He doesn’t miss her flinch this time.

“I just – well, you’ve seen my back. Kinda a mood killer,” she laughs lamely at this, swallowing hard around an ache in her throat.

“Hey, no. I — I want you, however you are, however you let me.” Joel feels like his mouth is full of cotton and he speaks before he can even think, “you’re – you’re wild, you know that? Make me feel like my head is gonna explode everytime I look at you.” She lets a small smile spread at that, still gazing down at her shoes. He brings his palm to her jaw, coaxing her face up towards him.

“Don’t gotta do anything you don’t want to, but you gotta know I want all of you, if you’ll let me have it.” She nods slightly, eyes a bit teary as she catches Joel’s gaze. What she says comes out as a hoarse whisper, “Think I need some time. I know you’ve seen them. I’m just not ready, but I want to be. That ok?” Joel takes hold of her hand, squeezing. She squeezes back.

“It’s ok, darlin. Give you all the time I got.”

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