#when in doubt spam grass

[1327-1]

i hate when people know what i’m feeling nevertheless i misssss miss miss miss miss miss being a kid on the internet... gw2 was so fun i never knew what i was doing but i had such a big group of friends that extended from forums and other games and we just did things together despite being strangers on the internet and now we’ve all been dispersed but i still have contact with 1 person yet we will never talk until another 5 years when we both realize how much we missed that time together... anyways can u tell i grew up on the internet

#touching grass and reading and etc etc etc is also SO important but i cannot deny that i have had social anxiety since i was born so yes #social interaction was very limited and came from the internet #i feel like this qualifies me for some special lab study on gen z who were introduced to the computer at the tender age of 7 #anyways like!! i just miss it so much and i might get a PC but something guilt trips me into how the internet is so bad and video game BAD #but its like... i'll be fine. even better actually.. my mental health was at peak when i was just spamming my silly little buttons in a gw2 #battle in some area in the map that was way above my character lvl #i think i just really miss online games with friends i would rather eat my ps4 than hopping on rdr2 online alone #.pdf #not to keep journaling here but i think being black in these spaces tho was really hard and there is still such a huge lacking #space of representation of black people who have ''nerdy'' interests so must accept the fact that if i wanna talk abt video games it's #claiming space i deserve to have without a single doubt

[tightjeansjavi]

My Joel,

A/N: I have not written a fic with this many words in a HOT minute, and boy does it feel good! What a cathartic experience this has been for me after writing Joel’s letters. I did not expect so many of you to want Joel and his dearest to have an alternative ending, but here we are 🤭 writing this has been a real treat, and I hope I have done their backstory and alternative ending justice! Buckle up, because you’re in for a wild ride! Thank you to @beardedjoel for letting me spam you with all the updates and screaming along with me 🥹 thank you to @strang3lov3 for betaing and creating these STUNNING divider mood boards for each section of the fic 💘

~word count: 14.4k~

Summary: the story of two forbidden lovers finding each other once more.

Pairing | forbidden lover!joel x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, infertility, canon typical violence, mutual pining, child abuse, mentions of S/A accusations (not by Joel) misogyny (not by Joel) homophobia/homophobic slurs (not by Joel) mutual pining, hopeless romantics, forbidden love, societal status, somewhat historically accurate language, arranged marriage (not to Joel), language, mentions of alcohol and tobacco products, virginity/virginity loss, happy ending/alternative ending, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

My Dearest,

June 1st, 1844

“This evening you are to meet the banker's son, daughter.” Your mother’s sickly sweet voice floated through your room, where you sat along the cushioned bench beneath the long window, your palm resting along your chin as you gazed out towards the gardens, the grass an unnatural shade of green compared to the common folk and farmers that would only dream of stepping foot on your family's estate. Your wealth was directly a result of your fathers parents, and their long lineage of thoroughbred horses. Your own mare was a descendant of the original three stallions imported into England in the late 1600’s.

But you were more focused on the man leading your mare, and her two stallions flocking at her hindquarters from the pasture: your Joel.

Joel Miller was a mere stable hand who was entrusted by your father himself to care for your family's prized horses. But to you? Joel was much more than just a stable hand. In fact, you begged your father one summer to increase Joel’s pay when he proved to be knowledgeable with the horses and their needs. Your father agreed, but refused to dote Joel with a new title. He was penniless compared to you, but you saw his heart before you saw his status in society. And he? He loved you from the moment you first met.

-

Spring, 1839

“Sir, sir!” A young Joel, 13 years of age burst into your fathers parlor, his hand-me-down clothes were soaked to the bone as the storm raged on outside the estate walls. “Dahlia’s womb has breached! Her foal is on the way!” He exclaimed with excitement.

Outside of your families prized stallions, the mares were just as valuable, bearing the next line of champions, no doubt. Dahlia belonged to your mother, and this was her third foal. Your mother couldn’t stand the presence of Joel in her home, dripping all over the floor, creating a puddle of water along the artisan rug beneath his muddy boots.

“Boy!” She snapped, setting her book down along her skirts where she was sitting near the fireplace, with perfect posture. Her eyes held a cold, unnerving stare. “You are in no state to be in my home looking like—” her pointed comment was cut off by the double doors leading to the parlor bursting open, to reveal your excited, and visibly out of breath face.

“Dahlia’s foal is on the way?!”

It was past your bedtime, but down the hall you heard the news of Dahlia, and couldn’t contain yourself. You were still in your nightgown, your hair in braids with bows tied into the ends. Joel felt a flush immediately rise to his damp cheeks at the sight of you. You were as pretty as a flower, the same age as him, and he wondered why this was the first time he’s seen you, till he remembered that most girls your age spent their days indoors preparing for marriage to a suitable husband of their fathers choosing, and inevitably bearing children down the line.

Just as quickly as his gaze fell upon you, he looked away, clearing his throat to hide the redness rising in his cheeks.

“Daughter!” Your mother scolded you when you rushed into the room and didn’t curtsy upon your arrival. She had yet to notice the bows in your hair when you quickly curtsied, fingers delicately grasping the hem of your nightgown as you bent down at the waist, one foot in front of the other just as it was ingrained into your brain for years. “Apologies, mother.” You softly squeaked out in embarrassment.

She shook her head, a displeasured look fell upon her hardened features. She rose from the couch, silk shawl clenched in her fist as she crossed the room and draped the garment across your shoulders. “Cover up your modesty.” She snapped unkindly. “Men should never see a lady in her night garments.”

I am not a lady, mother. I am a child! Is what you wanted to say, but instead you weakly nodded, muttering another apology under your breath. That’s when your mother took notice of your braids and the bows tied at the ends of them, a sign of innocent youth when you were to become a woman. She scoffed, nose upturning at the sight of them. Her cruel hand rose and fell, landing harshly against your soft cheek.

Joel visibly flinched from the sound, feeling his blood begin to boil under his soaked clothing. You had done nothing wrong! And who in their right mind slaps their own child!

Your skin stung, tears welling and nearly breaching down your cheeks when she yanked the bows from your braids and mockingly held them in front of your face. “These are for little girls. You are to become a woman, or have you forgotten?”

Your lower lip wobbled, and your knees trembled. Your eyes frantically searched the room, landing upon your father who paid no mind to your distress. He was too busy puffing away on his cigar, and even if he didn’t agree with his wife’s treatment upon you, he didn’t dare speak up about it.

“Joel, be a good lad and fetch my daughters coat. I will not be treading out in a storm such as that one, but someone from our family should be present for the birth of Dahlias foal.” He gruffed out. “Let us hope for a strong colt. There are too many fillies prancing around here.”

“Sir—” Joel started, but was cut off.

“Fetch her coat, and do not make me ask you a third time, boy.” He sternly reiterated.

“Yes, sir. Right away!” He nodded, quickly turning on his heel and exited the parlor, his eyes met your teary-eyed one briefly before he disappeared behind the open doors.

“Our daughter has no business going out in this storm, husband! Especially not with the likes of that—boy.” She seethed, stepping back from your trembling frame and walked in the direction of the fire, the now crumpled bows in her fist. She wasted no time to throw them directly into flames, watching as they were burnt up into ash immediately.

“Relax, wife.” Your father sighed, tapping out the ash from his cigar into the crystal ashtray along the table, “she is in good hands with Joel, I trust him.”

“Excuse me, miss?” a timid, youth filled voice appeared behind your shoulder, hand outstretched with your coat grasped between his fingers.

You sniffled, turning to face him and quickly wiped at your brewing tears with the back of your hand. “Thank you, Joel.” You whispered, fingers brushing his gently as you removed your coat from his grasp.

He nearly shied from your touch, a series of tingles and sparks shooting up his spine when he felt your soft touch for the first time. You reacted all the same; shocked gazes meeting before he was stepping to the side for you to pass by him first, a gentleman in nature despite coming from nothing. He cleared his throat, offering you his elbow to brace against the pounding rain and blustering winds. “I’ve got you, miss.” He whispered as your palm gently rested along the crook of his elbow.

Despite your mother’s incessant protests, Joel Miller guided you outside, acting as a physical shield as you endured the storm together. Once inside the safety of the barn, Joel parted from your side, grabbing a nearby stool for you to sit upon before entering Dahlia’s stall. You watched in pure curiosity and amazement as Joel spoke softly to the mare while her head rested in his lap. Beast trusted man; man trusted beast.

When Dahlia’s foal was born, she was not blessed with a strong colt like your father hoped for, but instead a filly. She was smaller than Dahlia’s other foals, and coal black unlike her mother’s dazzling, dappled silver coat. Joel helped the young filly stand on her long, spindly legs so that she could nurse. He was incredibly gentle, letting the filly lean her weight into him. Although Joel knew he was not allowed to name the horses, he started to call the filly ‘Little Shadow’ and only left the stall when he was certain she could stand on her own.

That’s when he remembered he wasn’t alone, and that you were still sitting upon the stool, hands clasped in your lap.

“Wanna meet her?” He suddenly asked, wiping his hands down on a nearby towel.

“Oh…” you trailed off, “I’m unsure if—”

“Nonsense.” He shook his head, a small, boy-like grin tugging on his lips. “M’sure your father would want you to have the full experience, would he not?”

“Yes, I suppose he would.” You agreed and graciously took his hand when he offered it. “He will be displeased to hear that Dahlia did not bear a strong colt.”

“I never understood that.” He mused, helping you down from the stool and gently released your hand. “A healthy foal, no matter the sex, is better than an unhealthy one, is it not?”

“Yes, this is true.” You nervously toyed with a loose thread on your coat, avoiding making eye contact with him. “She is…small though, is she not?”

He took no offense to your lack of direct eye contact. He felt undeserving to be in your presence, let alone hold your gaze? “Forgive me if this comes across negatively, miss. But must you always speak so…proper?”

You turned your nose up at his question, dropping the loose thread from your fingertips, “I am to be a lady, Joel. This is how ladies talk.”

He snorted under his breath, shaking his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I suppose you are right. And to answer your question, she may be smaller than the rest of Dahlia’s offspring, but her legs are long, and strong.” He commented thoughtfully as he walked over to the nursing foal. “She will be a winner one day, no doubt.”

“Do you wish to name her, Joel?” You asked softly, standing alongside him with your hand outstretched to gently pet the fillies jet black neck.

“Oh, miss—I could never. I was only calling her Little Shadow because well, she is like a Little Shadow.”

“I don’t think father would approve of Little Shadow…but I think Shadow is a fine name for her, sir.”

“Miss, I am not a sir.” He sighed, reaching behind him to rub the back of his neck. “I’m just a stable hand. I do not possess any titles, and I never will. I agree, Shadow is a fine name for her.”

“Joel, I have heard that you are more than just a stable hand, but I address every man as sir. It’s how I have been taught.”

He looked over at you, eyes scanning the side of your face, the same side where your cheek had been struck by your mothers cruel hand. “That it be true, I am not a man, miss. I am just a boy.”

Silence fell between the two of you while you continued to gently stroke Shadow’s neck. You could feel Joel’s gaze landing on your cheek, but you chose to ignore it despite the heat that was slowly beginning to rise to your cheeks.

“Miss…?” He sounded unsure of himself, nervous, apprehensive of the words he was about to speak next,

“Yes, Joel?”

“Forgive me, I should not be uttering these words to a lady like yourself, but the bows in your hair…I thought they were quite—pretty.” He whispered the last bit, expecting you to scold him, to scream, and surely send him to the gallows for even thinking of you in that inappropriate manner, but instead, you smiled softly.

“Thank you, Joel. Mother…doesn’t approve of them. Says they are for little girls, and not for a lady to be. But they are just ribbons, are they not? I like how they look, and I wish she did too.” You sighed, eyes casting downwards.

He was more bold this time around as the images of your mothers hand making contact with your soft cheek flashes in his mind, “she should have never laid a hand upon you like that, miss. You did nothing wrong! Forgive me—I have forgotten my place.” He dropped his chin between his shoulders in shame.

You wept then, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at the phantom sting of your mothers palm. You slowly sank down into the straw bed, head in your hands. You looked so small, frail, weak, and Joel never wanted you to feel this way again.

At first he didn’t know how to react to your distress, but soon he found himself sinking down to his knees in front of you, his hands trembling as he reached out to grasp your covered shoulders, “my dearest, do not weep, please. Your mother has never learned kindness in her life, but you? You—” he struggled to find his words, his empathetic nature coming out in full swing.

You slowly tilted your chin upwards to meet his gaze, glassy eyes boring into his. You both took a sharp inhale of breath, time seemed to cease completely. The storm outside raged on, the wind whipped and howled outside the heavy barn doors when Joel Miller’s calloused palms gently cradled your face, thumbs brushing away your glistening tears.

1842

Spring turned to summer, summer to fall, and fall to winter. Your Joel transformed into a man before your very eyes. In your youth he showed you how to run, to make mud pies, to swim in the river, despite your mothers disapproval. Your father showed an inkling of care to allow your years before marriage to be spent with Joel by your side.

On the approach of your sixteenth birthday, Joel Miller no longer looked like a boy in your eyes. He was a man, and for the first time in your life, you felt that forbidden part between your thighs come alive at the sight of him. He had grown taller, his arms filling in, paired with strong thighs. The muscles in his back and shoulders were defined with laborious hours of work. His chiseled jaw was speckled with facial hair, paired with unruly curls that you wished you could feel their softness between your fingers. You found yourself transfixed by his lips and often imagined how they would feel pressed to yours in a heated embrace. The only thing about your Joel that didn’t change with age was his eyes; the deepest pools of brown that always appeared lighter when he was graced with your presence.

Your father treated him like a son, inviting him out on the weekends to go fox hunting with your brothers. The prospect of attending college was even on the horizon for him, and Joel could taste his new life brewing on his tongue. His feelings grew for you over the years, feeling his heart flutter and clench whenever you would look his way. Even in your modest attire, he envisioned your womanly figure beneath your layers of tooled skirts. Every night before he laid his body to sleep, he would imagine your lips pressing to his own until the thought of it had begun to drive him mad.

So upon your sixteenth birthday, he approached your father in his office with only one thought on his mind; asking for your fathers permission, and blessing to court, and eventually marry you.

“Come in.” Your father’s voice rasped behind the closed door.

Joel took a deep breath, rubbing his sweaty palms along the front of his trousers, bringing one hand up to smooth down his untamed curls. His calloused palm grasped the brass handle and slowly pushed it open.

Your father was seated behind his desk, cigar smoke wafting through the air in a swirling pattern from where it rested between his lips. He looked at Joel expectantly, arms crossed behind his head in a lax position. “Joel, my boy. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Joel stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him softly. He momentarily glanced out a large window overlooking the gardens where in just a few hours, your party would be in full swing. “Good afternoon, sir.” He nodded curtly, “beautiful day we’re having, yes? The weather will be exceptional for your daughter's birthday this evening.”

My Dearest.

“Yes, indeed. The weather has been lovely.” Your father mused. “If you’re asking if you can attend tonight’s festivities, you already know my answer, Joel. The lady of the house wouldn’t stand for it.” He waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

“Yes, of course, sir. I won’t be on the grounds this evening. A few friends have invited me to the tavern for drinks. I won’t be out late, I swear it.”

“I see.” Your father nodded, “a handsome young man such as yourself oughta get out there more.” He agreed, “So, what are you here for then?”

Shit.

“Sir, I have—known your daughter for many years now, as you are aware. I am also aware that she has many suitors lined up to offer her hand in marriage, but sir, if I was given your blessing, and permission, I would—”

“Joel.” Your father’s tone cut through the younger man like a sharpened blade. “My daughter has already been promised to another. Do not take me for a fool, boy. I have seen the way your gaze lingers on her longer than what would even be described as appropriate. I see the way she looks at you, Joel. I have bit my tongue on this matter because I happen to like you, son. What I can offer you is another lady, at your choosing. You can live a happy, comfortable life and hold a title that you would never otherwise possess. My suggestion is that you accept my generous offer, and throw away your fantasy of ever marrying my daughter.”

Joel swallowed his disappointment down with a heavy gulp. He was naive to believe that he could ever be granted with your fathers blessing. How foolish of him to believe that a man such as himself, would ever end up with the likes of you. It was a fantasy, an unattainable dream that he was better off extinguishing now instead of dwelling on what could never be. He nodded slowly, trying to ignore the way his heart submerged to the very pits of his stomach. “I understand, sir.” He finally spoke.

“Good lad. I knew you were a smart one from the start. Now, this stays between you and I, alright?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. You didn’t hear this from me, but the lady of the house plans to retire early this evening. If you see the opportunity to whisk my daughter away for one evening, take it. If it sours, do not even think about taking me down with you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

“Sir?” Joel sounded confused, his eyes going wide momentarily, “I’m confused—”

“Treat my daughter to a night that she will never forget, so that in her later years, when she is in misery after bearing her husband's children, and finds herself in a loveless marriage, she will have her memories of you to look back on. Do not, and I mean by any means, get caught and throw your life away so foolishly.”

“I—I understand, sir.” He stuttered out, his heart lurching in his chest at the prospect of one evening with you in his embrace. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.” He gushed earnestly.

“Leave now, Joel. Do not speak of this to anyone.”

“I won’t, sir. I promise.”

-

All evening you danced merrily and socialized with the upper socialites of Texas with a fake smile plastered on your pretty painted lips. You searched high and low for your Joel all evening. Your gaze lingered, heart skipping a beat anytime a man that resembled him would stride past, only to be met with bitter disappointment when they would turn their cheek towards you and the resemblance would dissipate like the bubbles in your champagne flute. Your mother had retired for the evening, and your father was in his parlor with his colleagues, smoking, drinking, and playing hands of poker.

And then you felt a presence brush past your bare shoulder, the skirts of your dress ruffling in the warm summer breeze. A shred of parchment was placed into your palm discreetly as you watched the inconspicuous figure disappear in the direction of the nearby stables. Once you were certain no one was paying any attention to you, you unfolded parchment, your heart surging at the familiar penmanship.

My Dearest,

Happy sixteenth birthday. Meet me at the stables in exactly one hour.

Your Joel

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the butterflies erupted and fluttered wildly in your stomach, Your Joel. You brought the parchment to your lips, kissing his words, your lashes fluttering shut.

As the minutes ticked by, your excitement heightened, and when it was ten minutes to the hour, you snuck off to the stables with a visible pep in your step. The barn door was left ajar upon your entering, and when you turned the corner, you found your Joel inside of Shadow’s stall, bows and flowers were braided delicately throughout her luscious mane and tail. When he sensed your presence, he turned around, the biggest grin plastered on his face, dimples peeking through, one stray curl falling across his forehead that was begging to be brushed away by your soft fingertips.

“Joel.” You breathed out, smile mimicking his own.

“My Dearest.” His heart surged in his chest, and then you were launching yourself into his arms unexpectedly. He caught you, of course, hugging you tightly to his broad frame. “No one saw you, right?”

“No.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands fell to your waist. “Shadow looks beautiful! What’s the occasion?”

He chuckled warmly, tilting his forehead to rest upon yours with a sigh of relief, “she doesn’t look nearly as beautiful as you, darlin.’ And why for your birthday, of course!”

His warm, timbre laugh sent your stomach somersaulting, and your mind feeling dizzy. “An evening ride through the countryside, is that my present from you?” You teased him lightly, threading your fingers through the back of his hair.

“No, no, my sweet. It’s actually…a surprise. Are you up for it? Oh! You’ll be needing these, however.” He reluctantly departed from your embrace, stepping off to the side to lift a rucksack from the ground. “I believe they’re your size.”

You raised a curious brow as he handed the rucksack off to you. “You mean, I get an excuse to wear something outside of my fine dresses?” You gasped softly.

“Mhm.” He nodded, smile playing on his lips at your pure excitement over something so small. “I’ll uh—give you some privacy to change.” He cleared his throat, eyes dancing in the direction opposite of you as he turned on his heel so his back would be facing you.

Secretly, you wanted him to see you undress from your obnoxious layers and reveal your untouched skin to his admiring gaze. The times that you would swim in the river together were different. You were both still children, and your womanly curves hadn’t made their appearance just yet.

He silently listened to your fine skirts fall to the dusty barn floor and he was half tempted to peek, but remained respectful as you undressed. Once you gave him the okay, he slowly turned around to face you once more. Gone were your frilly heavy skirts that dragged along the floor with each step that you took. Your skirt was still long, but not as weighted and while the bodice was still fairly constricting, the sleeves were dainty and hung off the side of your shoulders like silk drapery. Your mother would certainly have a fit if she saw you dressed so un-modestly.

“So…” You trailed off, “how do I look?” You twirled on your heel, your smile never faltering.

He unashamedly looked you up and down, twice, before one strong arm looped around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest, caging you against him.

“Pardon my French, mademoiselle, but you look fuckin’ stunning.”

You giggled, hands resting against his chest to brace yourself against him. It was the sweetest sound that had ever graced his ears; your laugh.

“Thank you, sir. Mother would scold me if she saw me dressed like this!” You giggled again when his nose came to nuzzle against your cheek, bristles in his beard gently scraping against your skin, “she would, my dearest. But don’t worry about any of that, okay? Tonight you will have the time of your life with me, and your mother will have no say in it.” He assured you.

—

You rode into town on horseback, Shadow moving swiftly with Joel steering her with the reins and you behind him with your arms wrapped around him, pressing yourself as close to his back as possible. You had never been to a tavern before, but tonight would certainly be a night of firsts.

Your first sips of Ale were with Joel by your side, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned over, warm breath fanning your face as he asked you what you thought about the taste.

Truthfully? Ale was not your first drink of choice, but you had an understanding for the appeal of it. Joel agreed, and whispered in your ear that he thought it tasted like shit. His tone and crude remark sent you giggling in tandem.

Now, whiskey on the other hand? You enjoyed the smoky flavor that lingered on your tongue and the way it instantly sent a warm fire simmering in your belly, and heat to flood your cheeks. You danced, laughed, drank and you even played a hand of poker! No one in the tavern knew of your status, your wealth. Everyone in the rowdy establishment was just there living, and you silently wished for your life to always be this freeing.

When the tavern closed for the night, you and Joel strolled down the street, hand in hand. The late evening air held that familiar summer sweetness, crickets chirping, fireflies dancing around your heads. Another pair of lovers strolled in front of you and Joel, seemingly unable to keep their hands off of one another as they neared the town inn. Would that be you and your Joel?

His palm felt clammy in your palm, but his face gave no distinction that he was absolutely freaking the fuck out inside at the prospect of finally getting the privilege to press his lips to yours.

“Shadow is staying at the inn’s barn for the evening, my dearest. It’s far too late for either of us to return back to the estate…” he trailed off, eyes casting in your direction to await your response.

“Joel…” you sighed, loosening your grip around his hand, nearly dropping it entirely. “We—we have to go back. Father, mother—”

“My dearest, your mother has retired early for the evening, and your father is probably too deep in a hand of poker to even notice your absence.” He spoke softly, slowly bringing your entwined fingers up to his face, illuminated in a soft, warm glow from the flickering street lights lining the walkway. He brushed his lips against the outside of your hand, eyes locking onto yours, “I understand if you don’t desire me the way I desire you, my dearest. And if that is the case, we can leave immediately—”

“I—I desire you plenty, my Joel. All evening at the party, I kept seeing the resemblance of your beautiful face in every male passerby, but none of them were you. I’m just—I’m so afraid, Joel. My heart—it feels so deeply for you, but it’s forbidden. You and I both know the bitter truth of what we can never be.”

“My dearest, tonight we need not be afraid, okay? It is your birthday, your special day, and there is nowhere else in this world that I would rather be, than here with you. I ask you for nothing, only to trust me. Trust your Joel.”

You could feel yourself caving into his words, your body drawn to be closer to him as if by some invisible force pulling you into his chest. “I trust you always, my Joel.”

He nodded, pressing another sweet kiss to the outside of your hand. You moved in sync, his strong, broad body caging you against the brick wall of the inn, his hands, calloused and warm, holding your face between them as if you were fine delicate china. His forehead came to rest upon yours, warm breath fanning your face, “can I kiss you, my dearest?”

“Please, my Joel.” You breathed out, fingers gently resting along the nape of his neck. “You—you will be my first.” You whispered.

“And you will be mine, my dearest.” He rasped, thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones, feeling his heartbeat faster, and faster, when his lips finally brushed upon your own, both of your inexperience showing, but nature took over when your lips finally met, pressing against one another. Your breath hitched in your throat, fingers tightening around his soft curls, pulling him in closer. You wanted to crawl inside his skin, make a home inside of his heart and never leave.

“I—have never felt a sweetness upon my lips till I have kissed you, my dearest.” He murmured sweetly against your locked lips, taking the leap of what felt right when your lips parted like the narrow sea for him to slowly lick into your mouth so your tongues could meet, and dance.

An unexpected moan slipped past your lips when he licked into your mouth, a sound only for his ears, sending blood flowing southwards beneath his trousers and directly to his groin. He parted from the kiss momentarily, a string of translucent saliva hung between your swollen lips. He dived back in seconds later, but this time you felt his lips upon your neck, sucking, kissing, licking at your throat and all the way back up to your lips.

“I scraped up enough money to afford us a night at the inn, my dearest.” He let out a soft grunt when your nails lightly scratched his scalp, and your fingers tugged on the root of his curls, “do you wish to—”

“Yes, my Joel.” You didn’t even wait for him to finish his question, you already knew your answer was going to be yes.

He chuckled at your eagerness, letting his hands drop from your face and rest along your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, “lay beside me tonight, my love?”

“Yes, my Joel. I wish for that.”

He smiled into the kiss, the butterflies in his own stomach were no longer fluttering wildly, his nerves were gone because never in his life had he been more sure about his feelings till now. It was a moment of calm that both you and he felt in one another’s embrace. “Then let it be known that tonight, beneath the stars, I will make love to you, my dearest.” The words he spoke fell like a sweet oath upon your lips.

You kissed him once more, before your lips parted, but only for a little while. He took your hand in his, fingers entwined and led you to the entrance of the inn. The room was paid for, and the excitement was beginning to tingle once more as he unlocked the door to the room you would share. A single bed to accommodate you both.

And when he laid you down, fitting in the space between your thighs, kissing every inch of your untouched skin, drawing sounds from your throat that you had never felt, nor heard before. Calloused palms moved with languid ease, undressing you with methodical care. You did the same to him, marveling at the flex of his muscles beneath your touch. He was so gentle, so patient as you parted for him like a blooming flower. He kissed you there, too. Dark head of curls moving between your thighs, strong fingers spreading you open where his tongue quickly found the little bud that had your whole body quivering, and your back bowing, arching from the mattress.

He kissed, licked, worshiped, suckled on your womanhood, the taste of you was something so foreign, yet familiar, and his cock grew heavy between his thighs, hips rutting into the mattress for any form of relief.

Your speech was slurred, broken, fragmented moans dangling from your lips, and you were only able to say one word; his name.

Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel.

And when the coil in deep within your tummy was pulled tight, and a burning warmth that could only be described as the feeling of heaven on earth, traveled from the tips of your toes and up your spine, you convulsed around his tongue, eyes rolling back into your skull, muscles spasming, your cunt pulsing, leaking along the sheets. He lapped up every sweet drop of your release, swallowing it down as if he was quenched with thirst. His eyes opened, dark pools of brown staring intensely into yours, grinning like a devil. His chin and beard glistening in your sweet nectar, illuminated by the pale moonlight casting in through the thin, billowing curtains.

He kissed up your body, finding your lips and molding his tongue around yours so you could taste yourself, too. He whispered sweet nothings between kisses when the heavy weight of his cock slowly began to press into you. Tears sprung from the sudden sharp pain caused by the stretch of him easing inside of you. He kissed away your tears, shushing you softly and promising you that it would feel good so soon, my dearest.

Your nails left crescents in his back, thighs wrapping around his waist when he was fully sheathed inside of your pulsing, hugging warmth. It was the tightest vice he ever did feel, and he never wanted to part from you.

“I’ve got you, my dearest.” He whispered upon your lips, drawing his hips back slowly, oh so slowly, before guiding them forward. The coarse dark hair on his pubic bone brushed against your own with each gentle thrust he gave you. A rhythm set in with his movements, your body naturally began to mold to his as you became one. Sweat soaked skin, tangled moans and limbs, wet kisses and words of love shared between what little space was left between you.

And when he spilled his seed deep within your womb, and he moaned your name, proclaiming his love and devotion for you with his face buried against your neck. You refused to part from one another, even as his cock softened inside of you, and your cunt no longer fluttered. You pressed your lips to his scruffy cheek, tangled your fingers through his now sweat soaked curls that were matted to his forehead and back of his neck. You held him, and he held you as the sun slowly began to rise, and the birds chirped cheerfully just outside the window.

“I don’t want to go home, my Joel. I want to stay here, with you…forever.” You whispered softly through the early morning air.

He shifted deep within you, lifting his chin and turned his cheek to the side, brushing his lips sweetly against your soft cheek. His eyes were sleepy, a dopey, boyish grin graced his features, lips curved in a perfect pout, swollen with your kisses, “I need not yet to part from you, my love. But I must return you home before your father and mother awake.”

You sighed softly, dropping your fingers from their grip on his hair to then drag across his jaw, nuzzling your nose against his and pressed a kiss to his lips, “our home, my Joel.” You gently reminded him.

He kissed you back, lashes fluttering shut to savor the moment before opening again so he could once again gaze upon your face and paint a picture in his memory to hold onto forever, “our home, my dearest.”

Reality began to rear its ugly head into both of your minds and he reluctantly parted from your kiss, drawing his hips back slowly to release his cock from your warmth. “We must return home, my dearest.” He sat back on his haunches, his softened cock wet, sticky with a mix of your combined releases and a thin layer of blood.

You slowly sat up, taking the coarse sheet with you as you gazed upon his groin for the first time. Even soft now, your sex induced eyes widened at the girth of him.

He, however, was more focused on the stain of blood on his skin, and swiped his thumb across it before his gaze landed on you, “have you…bled before, my sweet?”

You nodded, “yes, my Joel. I bleed the same time every month since my thirteenth birthday. Mother told me that it means I am ready to bear children, and I have become a woman. She told me that I would bleed again when my husband makes love to me for the first time.”

His chin falls between his shoulders, feeling them sink from the realization that he would never be your husband, and you would never be his wife. “Does it hurt…to bleed? Did I hurt you, my love?”

You shook your head, letting the sheets drop from your chest as you reached out to comfort him. “No, my love. It can be uncomfortable, but you did not hurt me. A dull sting is all I felt, nothing more. You took care of me.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently as you emerged from under the covers, “my dearest, what is to happen if…you end up bearing my children? We are both so young, I wish not to steal what remains of your youth. You deserve so much more than only what is expected of you, my lady.”

You found yourself straddling his hips with your thighs on either side of him, caging his body around yours while his arms wrapped around your waist, using his core strength to stay upright as your hands came to rest upon his face, “if I bear your children, then we could marry, Joel. We could—be together!” You spoke excitedly.

“My dearest, I—have nothing to offer you. I am penniless…we are not of the same status, and your mother and father would never allow it.” His thumbs gently stroked the dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine.

“I will speak with my father! He will understand, he must! No man will ever wish to marry me if I am bearing another’s child! Father—he’ll have to agree!”

“My dearest, what if my seed doesn’t take to your womb the first time? What if we are unable—”

You cut him off with a swift kiss to his lips, pulling him in close with your hand resting along the nape of his neck, “then we keep trying till my womb is swelling with life.”

He kissed you deeply, feeling his cock begin to stir to life between your tightly pressed bodies. He nodded, a silent agreement as he dropped one hand from where it rested against your spine and dragged it between you so that he could grasp the base of his cock and slowly press himself inside of you once more.

-

By the time you and Joel arrived back at the estate, the sun was already beginning to rise high above the sky. The stables were empty upon your arrival as Joel helped you dismount from Shadow. He urged you to change back into your attire that you wore to the party so that your mother, nor father would raise their suspicions. You parted ways with a kiss, a longing behind his lips as he watched you leave his embrace and walk back into the life you had always known.

At the breakfast table your mother was quick to question why you were not present in your chambers at sunrise, but you already had a rehearsed script planned in your mind. Without missing a beat, you told the story of how you had a few too many flutes of champagne, and fell asleep in the gardens.

Your mother, of course, scolded you, but your father? He had a hidden, knowing smile playing beneath his mustache.

You and Joel were extremely cautious and strategic when it came to planning your rendezvous. They happened frequently, under the cover of night when everyone was sleeping. Sometimes in the stables, sometimes in the gardens, and you even returned to the inn a few times in secret. He could not get enough of you, your kisses, or your touch. The feeling was mutual, and you both knew that the deep, profound feelings you were both experiencing was not infatuation or lust, no, you and Joel Miller were madly, deeply, tragically in love with one another.

Even in the daytime he would seek your presence, asking your father if he could accompany you on a ride through the countryside as your guide, and protector. You had picnics by the river where he would lay his head upon your skirts, eyes closed blissfully as he listened to you read love stories from Shakespeare till he would drift off, soft snores escaping his lips, your voice lulling him to a sweet slumber. Your horses would graze side by side, his stallion, your mare. Their tails swishing to fight off the pesky flies.

-

Upon the approach of your eighteenth birthday, you wept in Joel’s arms, for no matter how many times he spilled his seed inside of you, your womb did not swell with life; his child. You feared that his love for you would sour and rot when you broke the mournful news to him beneath comfort of the shimmering moon, and twinkling stars.

“My dearest, why do you weep? Who, or what has caused my sweet love to shed her tears?” He sank to his knees with you crumbling in his arms. His heart felt like it was being shredded to fragmented pieces when your sobs echoed off the nearby hedges in the garden where your embrace was hidden.

“My Joel!” You cried, clawing at his arms with fat, heavy tears streaming down your cheeks, “I—I’m so sorry. I have let you down, my love.”

“My dearest, how have you let me down? Tell me what is wrong! What has happened?” He spoke urgently, tone hushed.

“My womb does not swell with life, Joel! We have tried, and tried! No matter how many times, it has been fruitless! I bear you no sons, no daughters—” you wailed mournfully.

“My sweet, are you certain of this? Oh, my girl…” he felt his own tears begin to prick his eyes as he began to gently rock you in his arms. “Do you weep in sadness, or in fear? I do not care that you cannot bear me any children, my dearest. My love for you will never sour.”

“Do not lie to me, lover!” You were on the edge of snapping through your tears, “when my sole purpose in this life is to marry and bear children to my husband! There must be something wrong with me, Joel! How can you say you love me when I cannot be the woman I am expected to be! I never can fucking—”

You surprised yourself and him by your sudden crude language, but then again, spending as much time as you did with Joel, his verbiage began to rub off on you, and yours onto him.

“Then don’t be the woman you are expected to be, my love! There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing, do you hear me? I love you as you are! You are my lady, for fucks sakes! You can be whoever you want to be with me! Do you wish to be a poet? Be one! Do you wish to be a scholar? A singer? Do you wish to live a normal life where your choices are not already chosen for you?!” His voice cracked, coming out as a hoarse rasp deep from within his chest.

You fought the urge to scoff and chide him for being so naive. “My life will never be normal! Don’t you understand?! All I know is what has been chosen for me! It doesn’t matter what I want, Joel! I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth! My studies, my thoughts, opinions, have all been predisposed! Even the fucking food I consume, and the clothing on my back has been chosen for me!”

“Of course I understand! All I have ever done is understand that you and I were never cut from the same cloth! And yet, I love you all the same because what else is a man to do? My sweet, we are weeks away from your eighteenth birthday! We can run away together and carve out the life of our choosing! Fuck your parents, fuck the society we live in! Do you want to marry a man you don’t love and live in misery?! Or do you want the chance to live! To wake up at your choosing, to wear what you desire, to love freely with no prejudice? To never again live under your parents control? Don’t you want to…love me?” He was exasperated, chest heaving, nostrils flaring from the pure passion oozing from his words.

You fell silent, your lower lip wobbling, eyes glassy with tears as you looked into his eyes, taking in the redness in his cheeks, the puffing of his chest—the love pooling in his dark irises, “of course I want to love you, my Joel. I—I’m afraid! Can’t you see that? I’m expected to marry and bear my husband's children and now I cannot! If we run away together, I’ll never be able to return home! What if our love isn’t destined to make it! What if we fail—”

“Of course I can see you’re afraid, my girl. I see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice! You are safe here, with me. With your Joel! I would never, ever, ever let anything happen to you. We may not live a life of riches, but we would live a life rich in love! I—I can get a job! I will work until my bones break if it means that I get to be with you. I’ll work the railways, the mines! Any job that I can take, I will, and I’ll do it all for you.”

You kissed him then, tasting the salt from your own tears and his upon your locked lips. “We’ll move west! As far west as we can! We’ll see the ocean for the first time, plot out our land and live out our days together!” You murmured against his lips.

“California.” He promised you, kissing you deeply as his hands came to cradle your face, “a sheep ranch with Shadow and Sunfyre.”

“Why sheep, lover?” You asked softly between desperation filled kisses,

“They’re quiet, do as they're told.” He teased, chuckling when you gently swatted at his chest for making such a comment.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” You giggled, which soon turned into a moan when his fingers slipped down to your waist and hastily began to unlace your bodice, while your hand drifted downwards to undo the string on his trousers. Neither of you knew that one of your own ladies, the same lady that had been promised to Joel by your father, caught the two of you in the gardens while she was out for a midnight stroll. Her presence was undetected as you sank down around Joel’s cock beneath your skirts, moaning his name unashamedly as your entwined bodies moved in sync.

June 1st, 1844

“Yes, mother.” You responded in a practiced, complacent sweetness to appease her.

“He will make a fine husband to you, one day.” She added, her perfectly dainty fingers came to rest upon your shoulder, squeezing it with anything but a comforting touch. She didn’t notice the way your gaze lingered on your secret lover, nor did she sense your longing.

“Yes, he will, mother. I look forward to making his acquaintance.”

“Good. You have grown into being a fine young woman, daughter. Your father and I are so very proud of you.”

If only they knew that you were not the perfect, proper lady than they believed you to be, and that your heart belonged to another man.

-

Your Joel had requested a private audience with your father leading up to the festivities surrounding your monumental birthday. And so after bringing the horses in from the pasture, he made his way to your fathers office, closing the door quietly behind him when he was given permission to enter.

“Sir, I have wonderful news to bestow upon you, Shadow is expectin’. She was showin’ early signs a few weeks back, but it is official.”

“Wonderful news indeed, Joel. And who is the lucky stud?” Your father asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“Sunfyre, sir.”

“Ahh. What a combination. A filly, as black as the night, and a colt, as golden as the sun. I wonder what their offspring will look like.” He mused.

Joel swallowed the lump growing in his throat, his palms growing clammier by the second. He took a deep breath to calm his budding nerves, “Sir, I need to disclose something to you, but before I do, I just wanted to say that I have appreciated being able to confide in you in some capacity. I am grateful that you have taken me under your wing and offered me the chance at having a better life, but your daughter—”

“Joel.” He warned, leaning forward in his chair with his hands clasped together. “Be extremely careful with your choice in words for whatever it is you are about to tell me. Perhaps I need to remind you where your place is? Maybe I should have been wary of confiding in you, boy.”

“Sir, please. You must hear this! If you care about your daughter's happiness, and her well being, you will listen to what I have to say. I swear that our conversations have remained confidential! I have spoken about them to no one, I swear it!”

Your father let out a deep sigh, bringing his hands to his face where he pressed the pads of his fingers into the deep set wrinkles in his forehead. “Go on then.”

“Your daughter—she is unable to bear children. She is afraid of what is to become of her if she cannot bear children for her future husband, sir. And I fear for her as well! Sir, men are unkind, and she is sweet. She is sweet and kind and deserving—”

Your fathers heart slowly began to sink, his composure crumbled because of his darling little girl, who would certainly face a life of hardship and misery if you could not bear children and enact your duties as a perfect wife for your husband. He didn’t agree with it, but that was how society worked. Men ruled the house, and the women cared for their husbands and children. “How do you know of this, Joel?” Your fathers tone wavered, his eyes casting in Joel’s direction and he saw a younger version of himself in your forbidden lover.

“Sir, you know the answer to your own question.” Joel nearly whispered, avoiding direct eye contact and let his gaze fall to a portrait behind your fathers desk, two young men with their arms around one another’s shoulders.

“You love her, don’t you?” His question hung heavy in the air.

Joel froze like a deer that was inevitably caught by hunters in the meadow. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t think as he listened to the sound of blood rushing in his ears and his pulse pounding, “with all of my heart, sir.”

Your father slowly nodded his head in understanding as he let out a sigh, “then you must know that you have to swallow down your feelings for my daughter for her benefit and your own. You are playing a dangerous game, Joel. One that could very well cost you your life.”

“I don’t fucking care. I have never loved another being outside of your daughter. Our love may be frowned upon and forbidden, but it is real. I have felt for her since I was just a mere boy, when the storm was raging outside and she accompanied me to see the birth of Dahlia’s foal. My love for her will never sour, it will never over ripen and rot like the low hanging fruit upon the trees. I have nothing to offer her but my heart, and that holds a weight more valuable than gold or silver.”

Your father smiled, one that did not reach his eyes as he slowly stood from his chair behind his desk and walked in front of it. “You remind me so much of my younger self, Joel. Willing to do anything for the person you love. Despite all the odds being stacked against you.”

Joel took a hesitant step back, the heel of his boot nearly catching along the rug, “do not patronize me, sir. I love your daughter, and nothing will stop me from loving her. Even after death, my love for her will remain.”

“Of course nothing will stop you, Joel. For what else is a man to do when he is in love?” He smiled sadly, a look of longing hidden behind his eyes. Joel knew the look all too well.

“I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“I’m going to tell you something that you have to swear you will never utter to anyone. It is a secret that you must take to your grave, Joel. You cannot even tell my daughter. Are we clear?”

“I swear I will not tell a single soul, sir. Not even your daughter will know.”

“Good, I trust you. You have a good heart, Joel.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Your father reached for his box of cigars, silently offering one to Joel who politely declined. It had been many, many, years since your father spoke about his past, and while he lit the end of the cigar, those memories began to surface. “I meant what I said when I told you that you remind me of my younger self.”

Joel nodded in understanding.

“When I was your age, the world was at my fingertips, Joel. It was my oyster, and I could have any lady of my choosing, but I had to marry. That was my parents one rule upon me was that I had to marry.”

“You could have any lady of your choosing, but it wasn’t a lady that held your affections, was it, sir?”

“No. It was not a lady that held my affections.”

“The man…in the portrait behind your desk, was he your…?”

“Yes, Joel. The man in the portrait was my lover. The butler's son nonetheless. I of course tried to appease my parents and court the finest lady in town, but my heart longed for my lover. We were going to run away together, Joel. It was all planned out, and I was ready to throw away my old life for him. It was, and still is taboo and forbidden to lay with the same sex. We were careful, until I came to him with the grave news that I would have to marry, and that we could no longer be together. He was angry, I was angry, we got reckless, and one night we were caught.”

“By…the lady of the house? Your now wife?”

He nodded, leaning back against the front of his desk, “yes, she was the one who caught us in the act, in my chambers. She screamed so loud, as if she was witnessing a murder! I begged her to keep her voice down but she wouldn’t listen. She was disgusted with me, and proclaimed that I would rot in eternal hell for the sins I committed.”

“What happened…to your lover, sir?”

“My own father nearly beat my lover to death in front of me. I was forced to watch the life drain from his eyes. I begged and begged for him to stop, to let him live! Maybe he would have, if it wasn’t for the lady of the house to spread a rumor that the butler's son came onto me against my will. My father didn’t want to believe that his son was a fairy, and so my lover was sentenced to hang. I visited him for the very last time when he was shackled, malnourished, and begging for death to take him. I stayed with him all night, praying that the sun would never rise. The following morning I was forced to watch him hang. Every single spectator in the crowd, except for me, cheered for the death of another fairy!” He used the back of his hand to swiftly wipe at his eyes when his tears began to well and roll down his cheeks.

“He was buried in an unmarked grave and I went through with marrying the lady of the house. I wasn’t given another choice, and on the night of our wedding, she whispered to me that she knew the truth, and that she wouldn’t hesitate to blackmail me for it.”

“I’m so sorry, sir. Your lover—you, I’m so sorry. I do not understand why people are so cruel and hateful. Love is love, is it not?”

“Please do not sympathize with me, Joel. I do not seek your sympathy. I am telling you this because if you do not swallow your feelings for my daughter, you will surely face the same fate that my lover did! Don’t you understand? She has been promised to another. She meets with the banker's son tonight and in time, they will be married. It is her duty and expectation. And you will have the choice to marry the lady I have chosen for you. Your love for my daughter will fade, and you will be grateful that it did.”

“How dare you! How dare you stand there—you coward! You could have been with your lover now if you had run away together! You had the opportunity, and didn’t seize it?! Don’t stand there and claim that my love for your daughter will fade, when yours for your dead lover has not! You stand there, weeping for him! Your life could have been different—”

Crack

Your fathers cruel fist made direct contact with Joel’s beautiful nose, the force of impact sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his face in despair as blood trickled and dripped between the grooves of his fingers, staining the golden threaded hearthrug in splotches of crimson.

“Get the fuck out of my office. It is clear that you have forgotten your place, boy. You will never marry the likes of my daughter.”

Joel retreated through the office doors with what remained of his dignity. He confided in your father purely out of trust, and he thought it was a mutual feeling. For the rest of the afternoon, leading into the evening, you did not see your Joel.

-

The banker’s son was polite, well-mannered, but goodness—was he a bore. You had no interest in hearing him drone on about the stock market in New York City. He didn’t bother to ask you about you, or your interests as they were already predisposed by your mother.

Fucking cunt.

He strolled with you in the gardens with your hand lightly grasping onto his elbow. Your eyes wandered off, in search for that familiar stature, and head of distinguishable dark curls as you passed by the stables, but your Joel was nowhere to be found. Your heart sank and you asked the banker’s son, Timothy, if he would mind giving you a moment of privacy in the garden's gazebo. He obliged, but not before he could press an affectionate kiss to the outside of your hand. The bristles in his perfectly groomed mustache tickled your skin before he reluctantly pulled away.

You let out a sigh of relief, your posture returning to a relaxed state as you watched him walk back towards the festivities inside. When you were certain that he was not lingering, you began to nervously pace the short distance inside of the gazebo, muttering about how Joel would never just leave you like this, would he?

Where the fuck was he?

Then you heard it, the groaning of the tired wood beneath his boots, and that warm, deep rasp in his voice. “My dearest.” He croaked, and you immediately knew something was wrong, something had happened. His voice sounded far more nasally, and when you turned around to face him, that’s when you noticed the dry, crusted blood beneath his fractured nose, the rusted blood stains in his white shirt. You ran to him, delicately cradling his beautiful face in your palms.

“My Joel!” You cried, “what has happened? Who has done this to you! Your nose—your beautiful nose!”

“Hush, my darling. It’s—just a fracture, lover. It will heal.” He lowered his tone to a whisper, his hands slowly coming to rest around your waist. “It does not matter who did this to me, my dearest.”

“How can you say such a thing? Joel, please, my love, who did this to you?” You softly begged, thumbs gently stroking the scruff speckled on his strong jaw.

“Your father.” He murmured, bitterness laced in his words.

“What?” You murmured in disbelief, dropping your hands from his face, refusing to believe it. “Why would he do such a thing to you! Joel, please, please tell me what happened!”

“My love, please promise you will not hate me for what I am about to utter. Swear to me that you won’t.” He pleaded, tightening his grip around your waist in fear that you would slip between his fingers like grains of sand.

“I swear it.”

“He knows about us, my dearest. He knows that I love you, and you love me. He knows that you cannot bear children because I am the one who confided in him this afternoon. I did it in hopes that he would understand, and stop the banker's son from courting you tonight. I—I thought maybe we wouldn’t have to run away, and we would be accepted as lovers!”

“Oh Joel, they will never accept us! You stupid, stupid, beautiful little fool.” You sniffled sadly, feeling your tears oncoming. “You are too good for this world and everyone in it! Your heart is made of pure gold, and I love you for it, but now you have put yourself in grave danger! That was so fucking stupid of you to do, lover.”

“My sweet, I may be a fool, but what else is a man to do when he is in love? Your father knows, yes, but now we must seize our opportunity to leave, tonight! The party is in full swing, is it not? No one will notice your absence, my dearest. If we don’t leave tonight, I fear we will never have another chance at eternal happiness.”

You swallow down your tears, melting into his embrace and his words. “The banker’s son waits for me inside, it will be suspicious if I do not return to him within the hour…” you trailed off.

“Are you having your doubts, my love?”

“No, no! Of course not. I am in fear that we will be caught if we aren’t careful, my Joel. I will return to him and you will go to my chambers. Lock the doors and do not open them for anyone. Take the back entrance, through the kitchens! No one will see you, I swear it.” You reached for his hands on your waist, interlocking your fingers through his.

“And you? I cannot fathom thinking of the banker’s son touching—”

“My Joel, please do not allow your thoughts to sour. I am expected to dance with him and when the timing is right, I will come find you. I promise.”

He nodded, bringing your clasped hands up to his face so he could kiss your knuckles, wincing from the dull ache in his nose.

“Together?” He murmured, eyes locking onto yours.

“Always.”

You parted ways after he kissed you, promising you that all this pain would be worth it in the end, and of course, you believed him, for what else is a girl to do when she is in love?

You returned to Timothy’s side, assuring him that you just needed to be alone with your thoughts. He was an understanding man, and you could understand why your father assumed that he would be a perfect match for you, but no one would ever be your Joel. And while you danced, and made small talk with him and his friends, Joel was making his way through the kitchens, ducking into one of the main hallways, muscle memory guiding him the way to your chambers, but unbeknownst to him, he was being followed.

It was a quarter to midnight and your lover could hear the party growing rowdier by the minute even behind your locked doors. He grew weary, doubts settling into his mind that perhaps you had forgotten him. Perhaps you were having a good time with the fucking bankers son. His spirits lifted when he heard the sound of a key being inserted in the lock. He sprung up from the edge of your perfectly made up bed, heart racing in his chest when the doors opened.

His face fell, blood running ice cold when the person revealed behind the door was not you, but the lady who was promised to him by your father. He took a step back, palms growing clammy.

“How did I know that you would be lingering in her chambers, Joel?” She closed the doors behind her and locked them for good measure. “What would her father say if he knew you were in here…hmm?”

“You fucking followed me here, didn’t you, Lady Florence?” He seethed, feeling like an animal trapped in the corner with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

“Because you were promised to me, or have you forgotten?” She cocked a brow in his direction, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I never approached you. Never even attempted to court you. Just because her father promised me to you, doesn’t fucking mean shit until actions are taken after words.” He snapped.

“I suppose, but then again, you’re in a not so favorable position, Joel. Trespassing after hours, and in his daughter's chambers nonetheless? I’m almost certain you would hang for such a crime.” She mused, stepping closer to where he had tucked himself nearly into a corner closest to the window. “Perhaps he would love to hear how I caught you and his daughter fucking in the gardens a few weeks back. How truly reckless of you both.” She tsked.

He scoffed at her attempt at blackmailing him in such a petty way. “Your threats are made in vain. Her father already knows about my love for his daughter. He’s well aware, and you look fucking desperate and pathetic at your attempt to blackmail me.”

“Blackmail you? Joel, you have me all wrong!” She laughed, “I don’t have the heart to blackmail you!”

“Then what the fuck do you call what you just attempted to do, hmm? Don’t take me for a fool! You are nothing but a jealous little—”

“Joel? It’s me, my love. I don’t have my key…someone must have nicked it!” You whispered through the outside of the closed door, looking around the vacant hallway anxiously. “Are you in there?”

He strode past Florence, shoulder checking her on his way to the door and quickly unlocked it, ushering you inside before closing and locking it again.

Your eyes landed on his face, and then trailed over his shoulder to Florence, one of your ladies, who you had believed up until this point was loyal, and not a conniving little—

“Lady Florence? What are you doing in my chambers? What is going on?!”

Joel reached for bare forearm with a gentle grip to pull you back. “My dearest, it isn’t what you think! Lady Florence is the one who nicked your key and followed me to your chambers! She cornered me, threatened me with blackmail, and claimed that she caught you and I in the gardens weeks ago!”

“Is this true?” You felt saddened, betrayed, and disappointed. “Flo, how could you do such a thing to me? I thought we were friends!”

“My lady—he lies! I never would steal from you, he is the one to corner me! He sought me out, forcing me into your chambers—” she lied between her teeth, digging herself in a graver hole than she was planning.

“LIAR!” you yelled, ripping your arm from Joel’s grasp, “he would never lay a hand on a lady, nor pressure her! You speak only of lies Florence!”

“Lover! We do not have the time for this! We have to go, we have to go now!” Joel urged you from behind, reaching for your arm again. “She isn’t worth it! Please, we must—”

And then you heard your fathers voice booming down the hall. Your biggest fear was coming true, and now there was nowhere for you or Joel to hide when the doors bursted open, the locking mechanism snapping in half from the force of your father.

“What is the meaning of this?!” He demanded.

Lady Florence, being the snake in the grass that she was, immediately flocked to your fathers side. “Sir! You arrived just in time!” She said exasperatedly, “Your daughter was in her chambers freshening up and I went to go check on her, being the good friend that I am, when I heard her dreadful scream! I came upon the heinous crime of the filthy stable hand taking your daughter against her will!” She wept her crocodile tears. “He threatened to—”

Your father wasn’t buying it for he knew that Florence was a terrible liar, and a rotten friend. “Lady Florence, this does not concern you. Return to the party immediately, and speak this to no one.”

“But sir—”

“GET OUT!” He yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at her. She narrowed her eyes at both you and Joel before slinking out of the room, closing the doors behind her.

You immediately stepped in front of Joel, silently vowing to protect him no matter what would happen, you would not allow your father to harm another hair upon your lover's head.

“Daddy, please, I love him! Please, let us be! I know it goes against what is expected of me, but Joel is a good man! He has only ever been good to me, father!”

“Your mother will never allow it, daughter. All Joel has done is tempted you and filled your head with fantasies! You have been promised to the banker's son and that is final! You think of me to be cruel, but I am only doing what is best for you!”

“I do not care what you think is best for me, father! I do not want to marry the banker's son! I wish to be happy with my one love, and I do not care if that means that you and mother will exile me! I do not care that it means I will no longer live a life of riches! I am rich in love and happiness with him by my side!”

Your father ignored your pleas, even when you clung to his arm and dug your heels in the ground to stop him from advancing towards Joel. “Please, father! Please! I am begging you to leave him be!” You cried, and your words were caught in your throat when the backside of your fathers ring clad hand made swift contact with your cheek, sending you tumbling to the floor in shock. All Joel could see was red behind his eyes when your fathers hand made contact with your cheek. He sprung into action, but your father, despite his age, was quick, ready for Joel’s attack.

“YOU DARE FUCKIN’ LAY A HAND ON HER?!” Your lover yelled with a rage you had never heard leave his lips, “I’LL FUCKIN’ KILL YOU IF YOU LAY A HAND UPON HER AGAIN!”

Your father used Joel’s rage to his advantage, letting the younger man assume he had control of the situation when he was shoved against your tall, wooden chifferobe.

“STOP IT! PLEASE!” You cried, “BOTH OF YOU, PLEASE STOP!”

In your moment of distress, Joel was distracted for a millisecond too long when your fathers fist connected with Joel’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. He landed another hit, and then another, weakening Joel enough that he crumbled to his knees, bringing his arms over his head to block out the fists raining down upon him.

Your father was relentless, grabbing your lover by the back of his neck, yanking it upwards so he was forced to look up at the older man from his knees. He bent down to his level, getting close to his ear and whispered only for him to hear “I warned you this would end badly if you weren’t careful, boy.”

Joel spit a mixture of congealed blood and saliva directly onto his face, spattering it in speckles of crimson. “Fuck you, you coward.” He hissed between gritted teeth.

Your fathers fist trembled, his hand surely was broken, but all he could think about was how he was forced to watch his own lover be beaten in the same fashion, and now he was on the delivering end of it. “Get out.” He seethed. “Leave the property before lady Florence runs her large mouth to the lady of the house and spreads a false rumor about you and my daughter. Leave before I change my mind, Joel.”

Defeat; complete and utter defeat is all Joel Miller felt in his bones when your father released him with a rough shove to the ground. He struggled to sit up, coughing up more blood, and when you attempted to crawl to his side, your father grasped your elbow and yanked you to the door.

your fading screams of his name echoed down the hall as your father dragged you further and further away.

Bruised, beaten, and feeling hopeless, Joel Miller forced himself to his feet and obeyed your fathers word to leave while he still had the chance. He felt like a coward now, but what else could he do? If he stayed, surely he would face the gallows for a crime that he didn’t commit. Lady Florence had infact gone to run her big mouth to the lady of the house, claiming that Joel Miller raped you in your bed chambers. It was of course a fabricated lie, and only lady Florence, Joel, your father, and you knew the truth.

June 4th, 1844

My Dearest,

I am deeply remorseful for the events that transcribed three days ago. I know I have put you in an undesirable situation now with your father’s wishes for your arranged marriage to the rich banker's son. Forgive me, for I don’t care to remember his name. My dearest, do not put the blame upon yourself. If we had known that there were prying, hateful eyes watching us, I would have waited for you in the stables and not inside your chambers. Jealousy drives even the sanest of people to do the unforgivable. The deep wounds your father has inflicted upon me will heal, but my heart? Oh, how it aches for you, my dearest. If I were not a coward, I would turn back and face the gallows just to see your face one last time, for what else is a man to do when he is in love? I’m heading west, like we planned in the gardens, in hopes that you will follow me and go against your father’s wishes. Please write to me soon, tell me that you are safe, and grace me with your sweet words.

Your devoted Joel

Unspecified date.

My Joel,

I write this to you in secret. My words are only for your eyes, and when you receive my letter, tell no one, my lover. Father is angry, so very angry, and mother only speaks of hate towards you. She is determined to make me press charges against you to hang for a crime you did not commit! Father won’t stand for it and instead we have abandoned the estate, left all of our belongings including our dear horses! They will not tell me where we are going, but I miss you terribly, my Joel. My brothers have been free to marry by their choosing, but I? I cannot. It’s rather cruel, isn’t it? To be given one life and since birth, since I first opened my eyes and gazed upon the new world, my choice has been stolen from my grasp. Oh, my Joel, you speak in sorrows, but the fault lands upon my shoulders. I’m so sorry, lover. I should have been more careful and discreet with our planned rendezvous. I deeply loathe Lady Florence for spying upon us! You are right of her jealousy, and now she claims to be remorseful! Oh, I feel your lips now. Your kiss, your touch upon my skin. My love for you has not weakened, I promise. Hold my words close to your heart, my Joel. I fear I will not be able to write to you again, but I will try, for you. My Joel, you are in my thoughts, always.

You have my heart,

Your Dearest.

-

January 1848, one hour after dusk

The decision to leave Texas and travel to New York to stop yours and the banker’s son’s wedding could quite possibly be the last thing that Joel Miller would ever do. But how could he sleep at night knowing that you were out there, somewhere in the city, thousands of miles away. You had not written to him in so long, but that didn’t deter him from following his heart back to you. He couldn’t fathom life without you in it any longer, and what else is a man to do when he is in love?

That’s how he found himself in the familiar stables, the horses peeking their heads out from their stalls and nickering softly to him in greeting. He kept the single letter you wrote to him safely tucked away in the pocket of his coat, rucksack thrown over his shoulder with what little belongings he possessed. After a new family moved into your home he was given a higher title, a warm bed to sleep in, and he could have married his new boss's daughter and lived a comfortable, happy life, but he declined, for she would never be you, his dearest. Despite turning down every single one of her affections, she still lingered, hoping that one day she would be good enough for his affections and heart.

He was frantically tacking up Sunfyre, cinching up the girth when the barn doors creeped open and Phoebe, his boss’s daughter appeared.

“Joel?” She whispered through the cool evening air, lantern in hand to peer into the low-lit stalls, “what…are you doing?”

He let out a sigh, dropping his hand from the girth and turned around to face her, “lady Phoebe, it’s late. You shouldn’t be out after hours.”

“Neither should you.” She chastised. “Where are you going at this hour, Joel?”

“My lady, that is none of your business. Please, return home. Forget that you ever saw me.”

“You’re going after her, aren’t you? Joel, it’s been years, and she has only written back to you once! It’s in all the papers that she is marrying the banker's son. You could be happy here, with me.” She whispered the last bit, feeling her heart ache for a man who would never feel the same for her.

“Lady Phoebe, “You are a dear friend to me, but I cannot love you, for my heart belongs to another.”

“But I can love you, Joel. I’m right here! She is thousands of miles away and—”

“She is my love, my one true love, and I’ll be damned if I don’t follow my heart. Your heart sings for me, but it’s not my tune to hear. You will belong to another, I promise.” He moved from Sunfyre’s side, grasping Phoebe's hands gently in his calloused palms, “you have to let me, and what could never be between us go.”

-

May 6th, 1848

My Joel, if you’re out there…please, please come find me, lover.

Your Joel wasn’t even sure how the fuck he was supposed to find you in a city as large as New York City. All he knew is that today you were expected to marry the banker’s son, and he would be damned if he didn’t stop this wedding from happening. He asked nearly every passbery in the street if they knew where the biggest wedding of the month would be taking place. It took less time than expected to find his answer, and once he did, he rented the finest suit that he could afford, tucked the ring box safely in his suit pocket, and rode to the chapel.

The wedding bells were already beginning to sweetly chime, and he felt his blood run cold at the sound. Was he too late? He would never forgive himself if he was.

“If anyone here, in this room objects to the unifying marriage between this man and woman, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The officiant spoke at the head of the altar, just as the doors leading into the chapel burst open.

“I OBJECT!” Joel’s familiar voice boomed up the aisle. Hushed murmurs, and surprised gasps echoed throughout the chapel when your eyes landed upon your Joel. All time ceased as you dropped Timothy’s hands, racing down the aisle, the train of your perfectly fitted wedding dress dragged behind you.

Tears flooded your eyes as you threw yourself into your lover's embrace, clinging to him in disbelief with your hands cradling his face. “MY JOEL, YOU CAME FOR ME!”

“Of course I did, my dearest. For what else is a man to do when he is in love?” He murmured, unable to truly process all the feelings he was experiencing at once. But what did it truly matter? The time apart was years, but it was all worth it leading up to this moment.

Your father was already making his way down the aisle, followed by your mother and Timothy when Joel grasped your hand tightly in his and whisked you down the aisle towards the exit. He wasn’t going to let them take you away from him again, not this time.

His grip on your hand did not loosen at the harsh sound of your fathers voice, and even when you were running down the chapel steps in unison, he did not let go until you and him were safely tucked behind a wall of a building, out of sight from the wedding party.

He kept you safely caged against the wall, a burst of memories from the night of firsts that you shared together all those years ago. “My dearest,” he breathed, “I thought I was too late! I thought the wedding already happened and you—”

“My Joel, I—I never thought I would see you again! I only ever received your single letter and I thought that you had moved on, that you had forgotten about me!”

“What?” He shook his head, brows furrowed as he grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips, kissing every inch of your skin there. “My Dearest, I wrote to you many, many times! Did you receive all of my letters? I thought the same! I thought you forgot about your Joel.” He admitted quietly.

“Fuck! I bet it was mother, or father! I bet they were keeping your letters from me, lover! Maybe they thought that if I believed you had forgotten me, I would be more inclined to marry the banker’s son!”

“I would believe that to be true, my sweet. But none of that matters, okay? I’m here now. Your Joel is here, and I will never leave your side again.”

“I-I can’t believe you’re here! Oh, my Joel, I’m so sorry—for everything! I have not stopped thinking about you all these years, I swear it. My heart only has ever belonged to you. I wear his ring, but it means nothing to me!”

“Shh, my love. I know, I know. My heart has only ever belonged to you, my dearest. Only to you. Fuck his ring. I will remove it from your finger so you never have to gaze upon it again.” He rasped, gently grabbing your left hand, scoffing at the enormous rock on your ring finger. “And I will replace it with my own.”

“Please, my Joel.”

He slipped the banker’s son’s ring off of your finger, tucking it into his pocket before he pulled out his own ring box, revealing a smaller, dainter ring beneath the velvet cover.

“It’s not much, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t grace your finger with the largest diamond the world has ever seen, but—I love you, dearest. I came all this way because I couldn’t possibly fathom the thought of losing you to another. I have never loved another soul as I do you, and while I don’t have riches to offer you, shiny carriages, silver platters, I have my heart and I know that it’s worth something to you, darlin.’”

He slipped his ring onto your finger, where it always belonged, and then you finally kissed him, your lips meeting in gentle brush before he surged forward, kissing you with everything that he had to offer. He believed that he was hallucinating, that he was back in Texas, longing for you in his empty bed. But you were here, you were real beneath his fingertips as he licked sweetly into your mouth, hands splayed around your waist, holding you close.

“It’s perfect, my Joel.” You murmured against his lips.

“Only because the lady that wears it is the most beautiful in the entire world. Sunfyre is waiting for us down the street. We can go as far east, west, wherever your heart desires. I will love you eternally, and no one will ever keep us apart, my dearest. I swear it.”

“Let’s go home, my Joel. To Texas. Take me home.”

And so he did, for what else is a man to do when he is in love?

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#fic: my Joel #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller comfort #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller story #joel miller imagine #regency!joel #regency!au

[ya-zz]

I just found your work and I’m in love!

I have a small req-

How’d you think Rama would react to s/o having a panic attack?

LMAO YEAH THE 50+ NOTIFICATIONS TOLD ME THAT hahah

Thank you so much though! I endorse the spamming, makes me feel all warm inside ♥

oh hey, my gif is in the Ramattra search- perfect time to use it... (I may try and get one in Shambali Monastery on Friday evening... I kinda wanna get a few different backgrounds for people to use...)

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1107

Ramattra was close to you, more so than with any other human. He didn’t hide it, in fact he openly expressed that he enjoyed spending time with you. Just the thought of being around you brought a warmth within his wires, something of which he enjoyed greatly. 

Seeing you happy made him happy, it made him fall for you more and more. Being able to see your smile everyday made it worth the restless nights he’d spend in his quarters waiting for the sun to rise. As an omnic who rarely, if at all slept, the hours would pass by slowly, almost torturing him. 

Of course, he never made a move, valuing the friendship he had grown with you. He put his feelings aside just so he could keep being by your side. It was the one thing he did keep secret from you and everyone else - that he loved you.

However, as of late, things had been tense around you. The mood swings caught him off guard and he felt constantly on edge as if he had done something wrong. No matter how many times you would reassure him that he hadn’t done anything bad towards you, there was still a twinge of doubt coursing through his wires.

He kept a small distance with you, not wanting to hurt you further despite your assurance. He felt guilty for something he hadn’t done and you noticed it. You were somewhat grateful for the distance, being allowed to dwell with your own thoughts for awhile. 

There was a day, however, when he didn’t see you at all. He was worried, he wouldn’t lie about that. There was a slight twitch in his hands as he’d work, his mind wandering to you and what you were doing.

Only when he ventured outside did he finally find you. You were laying on the ground, staring up into the endless sky as the clouds rolled in and threatened to rain. He approached you, not wanting to alarm you. 

“Hey Ramattra…” You speak out, not moving as you heard the larger omnic approach you from the right. 

“Is everything ok, [y/n]?” He asked, standing above you and looking down as his wires hanged loosely around his head. His shadow covered your face. 

You keep your eyes on him. “Yeah. You wanna sit down with me?” 

“Can I?” 

“Sure. Some company wouldn’t hurt.” You smile, still looking up at him and finally turning when he moves to sit next to you. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, looking down at you. 

“Nothing important.” 

“Are you sure? You have been acting strange lately.” He cocks his head to the side slightly, optics looking at you.

“Sorry. Just some past trauma coming up…” You turn you head back, looking up at the sky again. 

“Oh? Would you-”

“Not really… Just thinking about it is bad enough…” You cut him off. 

He lets out a small hum, turning to face the mountains in the distance. “I am here for you, you know that, right?” 

“Yeah, thank you.” You smile gently, keeping your focus on the sky. 

The both of you stayed quiet, the afternoon going by peacefully until your small whimpers broke the silence. 

Ramattra looks over at you, noticing how you were asleep, chest rising and falling in an erratic rhythm. Your breathing was shallow, eyes shut tight and body shaking as you turn your head to the side, swallowing a hard lump in your throat. 

His sensors picked up a small warning coming from your body, your heart rate increasing quickly as you laid there on the grass. 

“[y/n]...?” His voice was low as he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “[y/n], is everything ok?” He could feel the panic rising in his circuitry, something of which he hadn’t felt for a long time. 

You stirred awake, eyes blinking to adjust to the daylight, your body still in a state of panic as you turn to look at the omnic, tears brimming in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He spoke quietly, unsure on what to do.

You shifted, sitting up and placing a hand on your chest in hopes to calm yourself down but nothing was working. Your body shook violently as endless traumatic thoughts raced through your head. 

Ramattra grabbed your free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, hoping it would help in someway. When you squeezed his hand back in response, he leant over and pulled you closely to him, the quiet hum of his body aiding you in calming down. 

With the side of your head pressed against his chest, you could hear his inner workings, the soft hum of electric coursing through his body, the soft clicks as he moved his hand to gentle pet your head.

He had heard of humans having panic attacks, thinking them weak for overthinking, but seeing you in distress made him realise that it was more than that. He still had a lot to learn about humans, especially you. 

Eventually, after some time, he felt your body relax against him, the shaking had stopped and your heartbeat a normal rhythm alongside your breathing. He let out a soft sigh, hand not leaving your head as he continued to pet it, gently stroking down your scalp in soothing motions. His other hand had rested on your lower back, another gentle up and down motion. 

Some time passed as you stayed in his embrace, not wanting to move until he finally spoke.

“Are you ok?” 

You look up at him, a small nod and smile. “Yeah… Thank you…” 

“It was nothing.” He tilted his head slightly, optics scanning you. 

You rest your head back onto his chest. “Sorry you had to witness that…” 

“There is nothing to apologise for. I am glad I was here to help.” He continued his motions on your head and back, still keeping you grounded. 

“I usually deal with them myself…” You admitted shamefully. 

“Come to me if you need to. No matter the time. I do not want you to suffer.” He leans down, placing his forehead on top of your head.

A soft sigh escapes you as you lean in closer to him, smiling gently. “Thank you…” 

Ramattra felt at peace with you in his arms, looking out across the mountains. He felt even closer to you now than he did prior, the feelings inside only growing more with each passing minute. He wanted to care for you, to be there for you as much as you’d let him, through the happy times and the painful - he wanted nothing more than to be by your side.

#overwatch 2 #ramattra #ramattra x reader #overwatch ramattra #fanfic #overwatch fanfiction #ow #ramattra fanfic #ramattra x you #reader #overwatch #ow2 #yazzfics #lmao thanks tumblr for telling me I used my own gif

[hotmentransformed]

Where is Mark?

Every day after work, when you arrived home, you set aside a half hour to simply walk off the stress of the day. Sitting in a cubicle answering phones all day meant you needed to stretch and use your legs. Luckily, you lived in a lovely condominium with a beachfront on one side and a small green space on the other. As you placed your small satchel with your computer and files onto your couch, you grabbed your phone and stepped out. As you descended the stairs you received a phone call. Assuming it was one of your coworkers calling you (again) about not turning off your monitor "properly" or something menial like that, you whipped out your phone to silence it, only to see that it came from an unknown caller. Spam, no doubt. You declined the call and continued through the lobby and out into the exterior.

You turned right onto the sidewalk that snaked around a mound of grass, lined with palm trees. Beginning your stride, you allowed your steps to fall in rhythm with the imaginary music playing in your head. You had made it no more than fifty feet when your imaginary music was interrupted by the non-imaginary sound of your ringtone. You pulled it out once again, only to see it was another unknown caller.

Furious that they had interrupted your rhythm, you decided to pick up this time and give them a piece of your mind. You aggressively raised the phone to your ear, but before you could say a word, you heard a man with a deep voice ask for "Mark." They had to have dialed the wrong number. "This is not Mark, you have the wrong number" you forced through your gritted teeth. There was a brief moment of silence. You thought maybe the man had hung up, but before you could lower your phone to check, the man said "No. This is Mark."

A sharp pain erupted in your chest, and you began to stumble, losing your footing on the sidewalk and staggering into the grass. Everything seemed so... foggy. Your grip on your phone was loosening, and you collapsed in a heap onto your back, your phone landing next to you. You could hear the small voice in the phone asking "Mark. Are you okay?" Everything was so strange. It felt like the world was in slow motion. The pain in your chest had subsided into a dull ache, but your body would no longer respond.

As you lay there immobilized on the ground, you felt your breath tightening. You thought to yourself that you were having a heart attack until you heard the top button on your dress shirt pop off, and the tightness briefly subsided. As you inhaled once again, the tightness returned only to diminish when the next button popped off. Your chest was expanding rapidly with beefy pectoral muscles, stretching out your shirt. With each breath, your chest grew, further and further out until you had a shelf. Your stomach tightened and cramped as hard abs pushed their way out of your formerly flat stomach. Still immobile and unable to see, you felt as your shoulders stretched out and your biceps and triceps grew round and thick. You heard a sharp rip as your shirt opened up underneath you You felt your forearms thickening. Your hands, which were sprawled out on the grass, pushed outward finger by finger, ripping the grass beneath it, and leaving you with meaty man hands.

What the fuck was happening. You could see anything, but at this point, you were unsure if you wanted to see.

Your thighs were next. Your former twigs were widening and forcing themselves into each other, rubbing your unimpressive cock in the process and stretching the confines of your dress pants. You felt as your lower body lifted off the ground, as your ass expanded into two perfect globes of muscle, ripping your pants apart entirely. As your thighs continued to stimulate you, your calves ached as they grew and stretched longer. Your feet thickened and lengthened, with thick hair growing on your toes. Your feet pushed out of your shoes and socks, leaving you barefoot. A sharp stench emanating from your newly exposed feet wafted back toward your face in the ocean breeze. Lastly, your cock began to grow, further pushing it against your massive thighs which grew even further and sending waves of pleasure throughout your unmoving body. Slowly, your cock stretched and thickened, rubbing sensually against your body. Your hips began to buckle. You could move, but all you could do was moan in pleasure as your growing cock masturbated itself. Finally, release. You yelled as you finished, ejaculating for what seemed like minutes.

As you struggled to catch your breath, you heard the phone again. "Mark, are you there?" You picked up the phone and slowly rose in your new hulkish body. "Yeah, I'm here now"

#transformation #male tf #celebrity tf #tf #transform #Mark Wahlberg #celebrity #mark wahlberg tf

[rhodonessacaryophyllacea]

Spamton's New Leaf Au (ACNL x Deltarune)

So I saw the idea for this from a different post: Here; and as it is now living in my brain I offer up this very short fic/summary to all of you:

We begin with Spamton digging through the trash and finding an oddly large file; recently thrown away and in good condition. Possibly porn or possibly something he could sell.

He will take those chances.

So he slips inside, bypassing the normal opening sequence (doesn't want to set off any security this thing might have) and finds himself in... a train station. Goes outside and get ambushed- Greeted!- by fun-sized, [[Market-Able Plushies!]]-looking-animal-people.

This is the warmest welcome he's had in years. Also nerve wracking. It's too friendly, have they realized he's here to steal their data and decided to play the long con? WELL [[F1]] YOU TOO YOU [[Carebears]] HE CAN PLAY THIS [[Games half off!]] TOO!

This is the mindset behind most of his interactions early on.

Also he is the Mayor now??? WHAT! WHY? SURE! His anxiety is climbing as Spamton slowly becomes certain that these suckers have mistaken him for someone else but by [[G-O-D]] he is going to milk this for as much as its worth. Isabelle gives him his map, leads him to town hall (he's disappointed its not a mansion/palace), and introduces herself as his new secretary here to help him be the best mayor he can be etc...

Yeah okay. Goldilocks may look like a golden retriever but Spamton smells a rat. (Poor Isabelle notices his mistrust and doesn't know what she did wrong). Pushing her way through all that Isabelle gives him an overview of his job (calls him, SPAM- SPAMTON G. SPAMTON, a breath of fresh air. He can't decide if its flattery or really passive aggressive ). He then proceeds to have a the-jig-is-up moment as he needs housing to register (and needs registration to be mayor), but then Isabelle follows up with "We can build you a house!" and sends him on his way.

Spamton decidedly does not go to Nook's but does head to main-street in search for [[Luxury penthouse]] dumpsters. 'Build him a house'? HAHAHA, he's here to make money not [[invest in property]]. In no real hurry he can take his time to explore the file he's entered. There is a [whole sale] TOWN in here. Small, barely respectable by Cybercity standards but its... kinda beautiful. For just [[a second of your time!]] he thinks he's in the light world. But he's not. Its not quite the [[burning!!]] image he remembers, but so so close. The bright blue sky, fluffy clouds, green grass. Flowers, Sea shells, trees, etc.. He tries to play it off as a knock-off version that he's not impressed by but can't quite manage.

He ends up running into Nook on Main-street anyways and is told to pick a spot for construction to begin. He is not normally able to be talked over like this (not anymore) but everyone's genuine cheer at making his acquaintance is throwing him off his rhythm. While initially he doesn't want this, about halfway through his attitude becomes, '[[F]]-UCK IT. LETS GET A HOUSE!' When, when not if, shit hits the fan Spamton G. Spamton can run back to Cybercity. While he is doubtful of Isabelle, he Does Not trust Nook at all and in his mind he has two very good reasons.

1). Nook is a businessman/salesman. Spamton knows the type and they (even him) can never be trusted.

2). He does not give Spamton an estimate or bill for the house right away. Spamton is a Salesman[[Scam artist]] of the highest [[-rated 1997!]] caliber. He knows how this works.

The plot is marked, the tent is placed, and for the first time in however many years Spamton is sleeping inside his own place. Isabelle stops by to assure him that the tent is temporary. "BEATS A GODDAMNED GARBAGE CAN!!" Now Isabelle is worried about not doing her job correctly and her new Mayor Mr. Spamton, who seems to have... faced issues in their last residency. But now Isabelle is here and she's gonna do her best to make this town wonderful for everyone! Nothing will go wrong! (This is what folks in the literature business call foreshadowing.)

Spamton is given an ID and loses it just as quickly.

She also gives him a lantern so his tent won't be so dark at night. It's surprisingly thoughtful for some someone who probably wants his [fraudulent] job. [[OF C0URS3 SHE DOES! WHAT KINDA [SLIME] IS [Content Warning!] WITH HER [$4.99 Life] WHEN SHE COULD BE A BIG SHOT!]] Spamton is very aware that he is flying by the seat of his pants in a position Isabelle has, seemingly, shadowed for years.

When he eventually realizes that Isabelle has little ambition beyond being the best assistant she can be, he's going to think she's the biggest sucker he's ever met.

When he eventually realizes that Isabelle's kindness is genuine, he's going to think that she's the best goddamn employee he could ever have.

Now we are going with an unopened 3DS ROM of Animal Crossing: New Leaf and whoever firsts opens that game becomes Mayor. Which is Spamton. Isabelle and the others have never seen a lightner, and they'd use an in-game avatar anyways. A man-shaped being suddenly appears in game; what else can he be but the Mayor? So suddenly Mayor Spamton is introduced to the town, given a job, and given a house all in the span of day.

It is... a lot. He spends the next day scurrying around picking up everything he can fit in his pockets and then some, and tries to scam the Nook brothers by selling them shells he found on the shore. Which is just How the Economy Works so it goes through without a hitch. Hallelujah. Then there are the other villagers. Now unlike the Nook brothers they aren't going to give him [[DELICIS KROMER]] which at first puts Spamton off. His is not a bartering system. Until he realizes that he can give them shells and fruit for Clothes and Furniture so maybe they're OK. Also whenever they ask him if he'd like a nickname, he replies [BIG SHOT!!!], and then they actually call him Big Shot. Maybe not with the exuberance he'd prefer but never mockingly and that's more than [ALL WE DO IS ADVERTISE!!] ever did.

Other fun hijinks and tidbits include:

Using the memo board to post actual spam emails and scams.

Due to skipping the intro train ride Spamton never meets Rover nor names the town. What was it's name? Only Isabelle knows.

Meets Pete the mail man- What a loser! Who wants to be the E-mail guy? (Spamton tries to convince them to do something else with their life; they can't really be happy? Pete is, and of that self assurance Spamton is jealous. They have a complicated relationship).

Once he learns you can get KROMER and [free] furniture from trees he will shake everyone everyday. Wasps? Who minds those little pinches compared to getting free stuff?! (The villagers are concerned and bring him medicine (initially he just sells that also, but later on as he gets more secure he starts to actually use it)).

The villagers also keep giving him living advice- thanks? "Catch bugs with a net!" "[BUgS? WHAT BUGS I D0N"T HAVE BUGS]"

Goes to town hall for "work" bright and early. Just stands there. not knowing what to do. Until Isabelle tells him to sit down in his chair. He really likes the chair. Really disappointed when he learns there is no need for cars or building a [[community-driven]] BIG SHOT AUTOS!!

Goes to Nookling Junction to spy in the sales-man competition. Spamton does not care Timmy and Tommy are kids. Kids are cruel. (They grow on him eventually)

Ignores re-Tail at first, not realizing they are a shop due to the outwards decor. By the time he does notice it he isn't too bothered by a pawn shop. Uses it (trying) to sell random furniture at exorbitant prices.

The villagers just give him gifts sometimes?? Without being a bribe?? Mostly clothing- which while somewhat insulting, is kind of nice to have. He sleeps in a gifted sweater otherwise never changes outfit.

Avoids going back to Nook's to disclose house payments for as long as he can; eventually a villager pushes him back to Nooks. Its 10,000 bells to no longer live in a tent. He has been hoarding bells and can... Actually afford it. Huh. He greatly underestimated the value of bells. He has a house, Isabelle gives him wall paper to decorate and stops by to congratulate him.

Never expands his house again.

Never donates anything to the museum, doesn't even visit until people explain fossils to him and then its just to get them examined so he can sell them for a higher price. Blathers is losing his mind.

Spamton does a public works project and REFUSES to let the villagers get by with their paltry donation. Everyday during the fundraiser every villagers gets mail written by Mayor Spamton telling them to donate to this [AMAZING OPPORTUNITY OR ELSE!!!]. Sometimes they get multiple copies of the letter throughout the day and no one knows how. (Its Minitons)

I may put out a part 2 with Potential Plot and ANGST

#Spamton #spamton g. spamton #deltarune #acnl #isabelle #animal crossing #crossover #animal crossing new leaf #ac isabelle

[uswolves]

#traditional #gouache #when in doubt spam grass #the annual painting of my stepmum's chooks #Bernadette gets a painting of her own because she's the showstopper of the family

[douchebagbrainwaves]

APPARENTLY OUR SITUATION WAS NOT UNUSUAL

Enjoy it while it lasts, and get as much done as you can, because you haven't hired any bureaucrats yet. Sites of this type will get their attention. The fact that there's no conventional number. Don't fix Windows, because the remaining. And what drives them both is the number of new shares to the angel; if there were 1000 shares before the deal, this means 200 additional shares. This is not as selfish as it sounds. For the average startup fails. It spread from Fortran into Algol and then to depend on it happening. Seeing the system in use by real users—people they don't know—gives them lots of new ideas is practically virgin territory.

Auto-retrieving spam filters would make the legislator who introduced the bill famous. When someone's working on a problem where their success can be measured, you win. I was a Reddit user when the opposite happened there, and sitting in a cafe feels different from working. However, the easiest and cheapest way for them to do it gets you halfway there. No one uses pen as a verb in spoken English. We'd ask why we even hear about new languages like Perl and Python, the claim of the Python hackers seems to be as big as possible wants to attract everyone. Conditionals. Poetry is as much music as text, so you start to doubt yourself. Between them, these two facts are literally a recipe for exponential growth. In languages, as in any really bold undertaking, merely deciding to do it. I fly over the Valley: somehow you can sense something is going on.

It's easy to be drawn into imitating flaws, because they're trying to ignore you out of existence. Google. Long words for the first time should be the ideas expressed there. If a link is just an empty rant, editors will sometimes kill it even if it's on topic in the sense of beating the system, not breaking into computers. As long as you're at a point in your life when you can bear the risk of failure. I'm less American than I seem. The distinction between expressions and statements. So perhaps the best solution is to add a few more checks on public companies. Let me repeat that recipe: finding the problem intolerable and feeling it must be true that only 1.

Well, I said a good rule of thumb was to stay upwind—to work on a Python project than you could to work on a problem that seems too big, I always ask: is there some way to bite off some subset of the problem. A company that needed to build a factory or hire 50 people obviously needed to raise a large round and risk losing the investors you already have if you can't raise the full amount. And isn't popularity to some extent its own justification? I realize I might seem to be any less committed to the business. Surely that's mere prudence? The measurement of performance will tend to push even the organizations issuing credentials into line. Number 6 is starting to have a piratical gleam in their eye. About a year after we started Y Combinator that the most important skills founders need to learn. When the company goes public, the SEC will carefully study all prior issuances of stock by the company and demand that it take immediate action to cure any past violations of securities laws. Within a few decades old, and rapidly evolving. I didn't say so, but I'm British by birth. Investors tend to resist committing except to the extent you can.

I'm talking to companies we fund? But if we can decide in 20 minutes, should it take anyone longer than a couple days when he presented to investors at Demo Day, the more demanding the application, the more demanding the application, the more extroverted of the two founders did most of the holes are. We funded them because we liked the founders so much. And such random factors will increasingly be able to brag that he was an investor. You'd feel like an idiot using pen instead of write in a different language than they'd use if they were expressed that way. The safest plan for him personally is to stick close to the margin of failure, and the time preparing for it beforehand and thinking about it afterward. The theory is that minor forms of bad behavior encourage worse ones: that a neighborhood with lots of graffiti and broken windows becomes one where robberies occur. S s: n. Bootstrapping Consulting Some would-be founders may by now be thinking, why deal with investors at all, it means you don't need them.

It's not just that you can't judge ideas till you're an expert in a field. And the way to do it gets you halfway there. Angels who only invest occasionally may not themselves know what terms they want. But the raison d'etre of all these institutions has been the same kind of aberration, just spread over a longer period. If someone pays $20,000 from their friend's rich uncle, who they give 5% of the company they take is artificially low. But because seed firms operate in an earlier phase, they need to spend a lot on marketing, or build some kind of announcer. There are millions of small businesses in America, but only a little; they were both meeting someone they had a lot in common with. We present to him what has to be treated as a threat to a company's survival. S i; return s;; This falls short of the spec because it only works for integers. He said their business model was crap.

I was a philosophy major. Programs often have to work actively to prevent your company growing into a weed tree, dependent on this source of easy but low-margin money. And I was a philosophy major. This leads to the phenomenon known in the Valley is watching them. I definitely didn't prefer it when the grass was long after a week of rain. As many people have noted, one of the questions we pay most attention to when judging applications. I'd like to reply with another question: why do people think it's hard to predict, till you try, how long it will take to become profitable. Raising money is the better choice, because new technology is usually more valuable now than later. The purpose of the committee is presumably to ensure that is to create a successful company?

One recently told me that he did as a theoretical exercise—an effort to define a more convenient alternative to the Turing Machine. This is actually less common than it seems: many have to claim they thought of the idea after quitting because otherwise their former employer would own it. If you look at these languages in order, Java, and Visual Basic—it is not so frivolous as it sounds, however. VCs they have introductions to. VCs ask, just point out that you're inexperienced at fundraising—which is always a safe card to play—and you feel obliged to do the same for any firm you talk to. The lower your costs, the more demanding the application, the more important it is to sell something to you, the writer, the false impression that you're saying more than you have. What happens in that shower?

Thanks to Dan Bloomberg, Trevor Blackwell, Garry Tan, Nikhil Pandit, Reid Hoffman, Geoff Ralston, Slava Akhmechet, Paul Buchheit, Ben Horowitz, and Greg McAdoo for the lulz.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #company #Dan #encourage #Pandit #employer #thumb #threat #aberration #laws #businesses #Reid #philosophy #failure #millions #statements

[janiedean]

wow anon who has now bothered to open a bot profile to like... go ahead at it again, thanks for another 42 emails! I sure as fuck hope it's not 1am where you're from because honestly who the fuck has time to do this in the middle of the night, but anyway I blocked and reported you to tumblr for targeted harassment, I doubt they're gonna do shit about it but like if you do it again I'm just going to do report each single spam account you make up without even bothering to share the news, but like... bro idk who the fuck you are but trying to make people panic with this bullshit isn't the kind of hobby that helps your mental health, please put on a mask and go touch some grass because honestly what the fuck

also honestly if you gotta insult me calling me a whore every other moment when it's a perfectly respectable job anyway just shows how much imagination you lack, now can you please like crawl back in the hole where you came from thank you

#jeeesuuusss #anonymous #ask post #sort of #suicide bait cw #suicide cw #like okay #i'm ugly i'm pathetic i'm ignorant and apparently i'm not a nun #anon honestly find hobbies that don't include harassing nonconsenting other ppl thanks

[prof-peach]

If you could cross over two of your favorite games, which would you choose? Please explain, why that crossover would be a good match.

Oh you’re going to regret asking this one, I’m bout to GET SERIOUS.

So Pokemon, obvs, I love the whole world it’s built in, but the games imo are REALLY boring, I haven’t enjoyed one a lot since gale of darkness, the main ones just are a little too linear obvious plots, pretty standard setups for story and style. Speaking of style, the games lack personality, the models aren’t animated well, moves have no dynamic energy or visual difference at times, and the turn based battle style just feels kind of, I don’t know, old? Slow? Just doesn’t suit what I enjoy personally, gives me a FInal Fantasy vibe and I just cannot stand the speed at which things happen in those games, plus not into 3rd person ‘let’s build a team of people’ much, but that’s a problem for another time. With this all in mind, the game I wish would happen is like gen20 Pokemon, far future sadly, I doubt I’d see it in my lifetime but god I’d be happy if I did!

Ok so take the newest Zelda graphics, the visual treat that was BOTW, open world, puzzles, not JUST combat, you got side missions, hunt the chickens, find missing pets, parcels, items, whatever. Love it! The horse taming?! Amazing you funky little game. Now take the bad guys and beasts from that. And put Pokemon in instead. Give them the diversity, the life and believable natures that BOTW gave the animals, I followed a frog in BOTW for 15 minutes, and it was a great experience, it felt like it was believable. Above world spawning, ACTUAL difficult gameplay, rare spawn rates, make dragons hard to get again, cmon, it’s too easy now, make it so we need a certain set of Pokemon for certain tasks. Water types big enough to carry you will be able to get you to new areas, rock types that can help you climb mountains faster, or break through blocking boulders. Actual towns with more than 4 houses in them, shops, barns, farms, homes. Like little link with the heat, maybe ice types would struggle in volcano areas, or bug Pokemon not be so comfortable in gale force winds. Give the weather more of an effect on your partners. Mounts, don’t even get me started that Pokemon Let’s go had you able to ride any of the larger species, but swsh did not???? Bitch please, give me my rideable Pokemon. The wild area too was far too closed, limited, online was laggy and a mess, camping is limited, let me do more with my team. Pokemon for me is all about the actual creatures, how they live with humans, and the many wonderful things they’re capable of. Yes of course it’s cool they can fight, but like what else you know?

I’d love a game that lets me buy a plot of land, maybe plant things, custom build things. I’m a sucker for the fallout4 settlement builds when they’re modded to hell and back, they’re fun! It can be a really calm and creative process. If I could do that and skip the main campaign and all the battles for a bit? Amazing, it sound perfect for me. I am that distracted hoe collecting flowers while the kingdom burns in the background. Side quests are everything to me. Let me give homeless people enough money to get them in a home? Let me adopt Pokemon that are stray around the town? Plz oh plz bring me a Pokemon game that allows me to work WITH my team to do more than KO other species. I want to save and buy a plow for my buddy gogoat, and grow amazing foods to sell to get currency to spend in decorations, to spoil my team. Give me actual game consequence, if I ignore that sick and injured Pokemon I find in the wild, later maybe it’s family don’t want to help me out with a different problem, too stricken from grief. I am all about the average bits, the old women who need help, the lost pets board in town, the general day to day stuff. Let me get cosmetic items for the Pokemon I keep, cute outfits, special gemstone items, let me actually live with them, or even feel remotely like they’re realistic.

Ok so in game, if it’s looking like BOTW it’s pretty beautiful but also stylised, I’d have it so you can send out a maximum of 3 Pokemon from your 6, using bumpers and such to throw them out. If you hit the trigger you switch from controlling the human trainer, to the Pokemon you’ve targeted with a standard lock on targeting system. You then can be the leader, but be the Pokemon. You could technically defeat the game without a human if you wanted, which incorporates the mystery dungeon games I think, and caters to that crowd. I’d love to see the use of attacks out of battle, things like using water gun to grow plants, using ember to start a campfire faster and stave off the cold. There’s no consequence to Pokemon anymore, and I think that’s where it’s lost me. I have to admit I miss the days of a poisoned pokemon fainting if you don’t heal them soon enough, I miss gym battles that were actually tough, damn, try picking charmander in red and beating brock without grinding in viridian forest first, it’s not easy. And I loved that. Yes it’s a child’s game, it will never be difficult again, but god it’d be nice to have a bit of a challenge, or maybe a difficulty setting, so some could play it with hostility turned off, great for kids, or you can be n adult like I know so many Pokemon fans are, and play it on expert mode and ACTUALLY have to work hard to beat the game. Alternate skill trees anyone? Train gun a fire type to ACUTALLy combat water moves?? Please! Cmon! It frustrated me that every challenger has pretty much a systematic set of moves to use to win. Grass opponent? Fire attack spam until you win. It’s dull, so at least with very difficult tricks to either find or learn in game would make it more achievable if you can send that fire type in and I don’t know, train them so much the heat evaporates the water mid-battle and you suddenly have a shot at winning. Pokemon has taught me that if you work hard enough you can achieve something, but the games just have such strict ways to win. Feels wrong.

In terms of battling, let us BE the Pokemon, let us learn to dodge, train our speed, train our defence, make a team of truly tough Pokemon instead of just, average? Some species have a cap on their skills, a squirtle has lower stat points than a Charizard, but you can’t ever change that? Let me choose the Pokemon I believe in, and let me work with them until they’re just as good, if not better than the game tanks. This would also make online battles more interesting. Everyone picks the top trio. Fairy, dragon, legendaries. And yknow what? It’s boring. That one IRL fight with the monster Pacharisu that won in the world tournament with follow me and the situs Berry? Unbelievable, I love that little rat so much because of this, so let us all have a chance to build a team that’s strategically viable, strong, and potentially a winner formula, even if they aren’t fully evolved, or the biggest Pokemon in the world. Yeah maybe you have to grind way harder with your unevolved Pokemon, but you get to the end game and win, because you put love and time into species that you enjoy, not just good fighters.

Unfortunately I am beholdent to Todd-idiot-Howard, and I love the Eldrescrolls and fallout games (before they got dumb, not that I don’t play the new ones. 76 I’m looking at you, you big asshole game.) honestly I hate online games, so none of that junk, just a good old fashioned open world sandbox game is plenty. Games for me are an escape from others, not an invitation to socialise. To each their own of course, and I do play online games sometimes, just pretty short lived ones, over watch and rdr2 for example. Would they be sometimes better on private servers? Yes of course, fallout76? Want to play with others? No. I do not. Please leave me alone. And if you buy a private server you’re feeding the monster that is Todd Howard, the man the myth the asshole, then we’ll get more bad games like 76. I just so desperately want the Pokemon company to see what a beautiful potential game they’ve got on their hands, that could be suitable for far greater audiences, but instead they’ve focused on the kids. It’s fine, it’s functional, but it’s lost to the fans from day 1, that are all 20+ years old now and want something meatier to play, something far more broad and inclusive. I also hate that there’s no wheelchair option in any Pokemon game. Like cmon, it’s not hard to include that.

In short, BOTW + Pokemon, with a sprinkle of open world sandbox to it, less fighting, more fun. Or, at least both options. Sure, go fight everything, great, but I want to farm carrots over here with 6sunflora, plz let me have some peace.

Edit: I forgot about harvest moon, chuck some of that in there too.

SECOND EDIT: someone in the comments mentioned to put this in Unova? Plz love yourselves, this game would be ALL MAPS. Stuff one singular location, this is the ideal game, put every map in it, join them, put islands in, make them more explorable, more detailed!

#pokemon #not peach #OOC

[moonflms]

➷｡˚wishes —nct/superm mark lee

requested by anon! note, use of media (twice only dw)

next request: jaehyun

PROLOGUE ༄ — mark takes you out on a friendly date to watch the total lunar eclipse by the park! but oh how we wished the date was real.

PAIRING ༄ - non-idol! mark x fem! reader

GENREs ༄ - fluff, semi-onesided love, stars, eclipse, moongazing, under the night sky, semi-socmed, ed sheeran

W. COUNT ༄ - around 1.5k+

NETWORKS༄ - @multifandomnet

TAGS ༄ - @cupfullofjeno (maddie imy :( ) @jungwon-luv-bot-pt3 (if you wanna be tagged in my stories then feel free to reach out to me ! <3)

➷｡min's letter ༄ - i honestly feel like this one sucked bc i honestly didn't know how to write a cute prompt anon sent kdfhjkdf

do not repost. copyright belongs to @moonflms 2021. reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! originally posted on my wattpad (@johnsparrot) . enjoy reading!

masterlist

"i get it that you're into astronomy and the likes but mark, it's past six." you reasoned out from the front seat as you talk to your best friend who was by the trunk arranging whatever he packed. "first, i'm not that deep into the study unlike professionals and astrophiles but you already agreed so shut up!" mark looks at you from the back as he smiles at you who was slightly annoyed.

"a pillow or moomin?" mark walked to your side, barricading you to your seat as he slightly leans towards you, a hand on the door keeping the car wide open as the other rested near the headrest. "moomin please" you pushed mark slightly away as you watched him dash into the house for the soft plushie. you chuckled at how he treats you like a kid— what he always does when you're having those rough weeks. you watched him lock the house and come back with the white plush in hand.

he gets settled in the driver's seat as he starts buckles up, royally handing the toy over to you "one moomin m'lady" he slightly bows down while handing it over, another episode of him being goofy. you played along and smiled before mark fully started the drive towards the park.

the drive was not silent as mark kept the atmosphere busy with a few of ed sheeran's songs playing through his stereo. with the songs playing mark felt vague; he felt butterflies yet he felt his chest gradually getting heavier. photograph, thinking out loud and eventually to happier. playing those songs he realized, no, he knew very well that they had something in common.

that they all reminded him of you.

his gallery and even actual photographs always had you beside him, complete attendance from his adorable childhood to his questionable high school era. thinking out loud because he sees you much more as his confidant, his best friend. all the 'i love you's he showered you with from time to time meant much more than how you saught it as. he feels at peace by seeing you smile and his heart never fails to flutter when he feels your head cozied up by his chest.

and to happier as he knows that you were least likely to become his. he hesitated to confess despite all his others friends convinced you felt the same way. he wouldn't want to go through the pain of rejection and turn the years of friendship all awkward of a sudden.

it has been going on for a great while and the only thing mark could do was to show signs without making it obvious, like how he queued the songs in that order.

you had a rough week and it only seems to get rougher. what hurt you hurt mark as well, so he always goes berserk just to make you lighten up from your burdening feelings.

you and mark always had a bucket list of stuff you both wanted to do. and mark felt it was a perfect time to cross one out; a date under the night sky.

a friendly date despite how mark wanted it to be an actual one.

mark felt lucky knowing that same night had a lunar eclipse (and surprisingly a super moon) was supposed to show and he just had to seize the opportunity. he made sure to bring binoculars, comfy blankets to rest on and of course, the requested moomin plush renjun gifted him for christmas.

the park was nearby and mark felt giddy. focused on humming and driving mark overheard a few shutters and felt the gut feeling of a camera pointing at him. "i better look hot in those" he joked as he glanced at you through the mirror. "i was taking pictures of the cherry blossom, dumbass" you chuckled as you proceeded to snap a few pictures of mark. you then moved over to your instagram to spam about the sudden trip. "one last, look" you scooted closer to mark's side to take a pic with him, just before the traffic light switched to green. both of you looking sweet, you smiled to yourself.

-

you were finally settling down on the blanket sprawled over the grass, the view of the waters from the distance and the moon above continuing its eclipse. mark who was sitting up, set aside the binoculars, and laid beside you. he turned to his side as he watched you. "so, a check on the bucket list?" mark smiled hoping you'd say yes.

"well, my best friend is much better than other than an invisible boyfriend." mark smiled through the stinging pain. 'yeah, best friend'  he thought to himself.

"don't you get tired of being by my side?" you looked up to the sky, feeling a bit doubtful.

"and why would you think so?"

"it's more or less two decades of us constantly by each other's side. and the things you'd do just to get me out of my—"

"y/n, if you're hurt, i get hurt too. i'm always here for you, no matter how stupid and annoying you could be at times. if i went through my whole life with you by my side, why would i suddenly stray away?" mark softly patted your cheek, drying off the few tears that rolled down. you came closer to mark and hugged him, nuzzling by his chest and scent. "and you know how much i love you right?" you nodded as you continued to nest under him.

mark would've been jumping in joy. but tracing back a few words, there he reminded himself of the word 'best friend'.

mark hugged you back as he secretly logged into his instagram as well, he distracted himself by viewing a few of the stories. your story came in after a few taps and there showed a picture of him driving, captioned with a black heart. "sure, keep on hoping minhyung."  he thought to himself once again.

he finally decided to create his own with the picture he secretly took of you earlier. he thought of the caption for a while until he ended up with "wished you we're mine." he posts storied like these on the daily, he just made sure to set it into the close friends setting to avoid you from seeing it. he quickly tapped the post option as he felt you move and sat up.

"look! it's red!" you pointed at the moon, smiling as you were amazed by the phenomenon. you pulled mark up from his position and continued to look at the dark sky. it indeed was beautiful. mark inserted his phone back into his pocket as he cupped your shoulder, watching you admire the heavenly bodies above.

feeling done, you glanced at mark who was still looking up. you watched your best friend enjoy his own time as you felt a small vibrate off your phone. you quickly checked the notification as it came from... mark?

" [y/nmais_vu] : @onyourm__mark posted a new story ! "

checking it, you wondered when mark was able to snap a quick photo of you, but you wondered more about the caption. you felt your heartbeats go rapid and your stomach starts to churn. "y/n?" mark called as you quickly locked your phone. "you alright?"

"yeah... nothing much, just story notifs." you smiled and sat closer to mark. he hums as he proceeds to wrap his free arm around your shoulders, continuing to watch over the distance. "did you make a wish?" you asked mark who was finally looking back at you with an unsure expression. "we're supposed to wish! go on, "  you nudged mark as he spaced out for a moment, staring at a star. "starlight, star bright, the first star i see tonight!" you both burst into laughs "what are we? pre-school?" mark smiled as he continued to stay silent.

"you made me wish on a star now tell me what you asked for," mark turns facing you. you stayed silent for a while as you looked up to the ending eclipse above. "i actually had two wishes" you pulled out a few blades of grass, avoiding his eyes. "first, was for your wish to come true," you fully faced mark as you took the plush into your hands, fiddling with it.

"second, ... i also wished for you to be mine" you smiled at mark whose face was indecipherable. "wait, what?" you noticed how his cheeks were lightly brushed with blush. "it was your notif, mark."

right there, mark realized that he failed to upload the story to the selected option. "i... well, you did suddenly moved and made me panic." mark chuckled as he continues to study your eyes that were glistening under the soft lights of the surroundings. "your turn. what did you wish for?"

mark came closer to you as he tucks some hair behind your ear, "it just came true." he whispered as he quickly diverted his vision towards the tree nearby. you softly held mark's chin as you got him to face you, your body suddenly heating up inside the white crewneck sweatshirt you were wearing. you both felt euphoric as the sudden confession still felt unreal. you both felt rewarded after keeping in the hopes and feelings for one another.

unconsciously, you both started to close in while the background started to seem blurry, and the only things that were clear to your visions were each other. "can i?" granting him permission mark closed the gap in between both of you, feeling his own soft set above yours. you returned the favor as you cautiously mimicked what mark did, creating a slow rhythm for the both of you.

lasting a good few seconds, you both broke away with heated cheeks and pleased hearts. mark pulled you closer as he now has you in between in him, hugging you from behind. he laid you back into his chest and placed one more kiss, smiling afterward. you locked your phone once again after posting another story. (check below) you both were glad that the wishes of becoming each other's pair were finally granted. mark continued to sway you in his arm, looking up at the succeeding eclipse. "hey y/n,"

"the moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

———

(for those who doesn't know it actually means 'i love you' !)

#mark #multifandomnet #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream #nct 127 #nct mark #nct mark lee #nct u #mark lee #nct dream imagines #nct 127 imagines #mark fluff #superm #moonflms #moon #nct 127 au #nct dream au #superm imagines #superm scenarios #superm mark #mark x reader #mark scenarios #mark ff #mark x y/n #hot sauce #dreamies

[imherongraystairstrash]

Find The Way Home (Part 2)

(Part 1)

~Later that night~

Thomas trudged into his house, letting the door click softly and locking it before hanging his boleadoras on the hook by the door—something he’d gotten so used to doing out of habit, it was practically a reflex—so that his parents knew whether he was home or not. He could feel his drowsiness deep in throat, threatening to become a yawn.

He hadn’t realized how tired he was, how little he’d slept these past weeks, until the adrenaline rush from the battle had suddenly come crashing down. Thomas walked past the drawing room and found his parents, laughing over something.

Both had taken off their gear and changed into something more comfortable. Sophie’s knees were bent over Gideon’s legs, their heads bent towards each other’s. Gideon seemed to have a photo album on his lap.

Shadowhunters didn’t take many pictures, because it wasn’t customary, so the book was rather small. Nevertheless, Thomas’ parents were flipping through slowly, stopping at every picture to point out the events of that year.

It would have seemed like an intimate moment, if Thomas didn’t know any better. His parents, no matter what, always wanted to spend time with their children. He knew his parents loved him and his sister so much that they would do anything to keep them safe. They always reminded him that they loved him, no matter what. He knew he could tell them he loved men, and that his parents would embrace that part of him, and tell him they loved him, but Thomas still had difficulties in telling them. There had been so many times that he had opened his mouth with full intentions of telling them, and then closing it again. His mouth couldn’t form the words, he couldn’t speak; it was as though his throat had become honey, and the words he wanted to say got stuck in it.

But now, he was too exhausted to even think about telling them anything. He was too exhausted to think. He leaned against the doorway and must have made a loud noise, because both Sophie and Gideon looked up.

Sophie smiled at him. “Your sister said she was off to bed, though I suspect she’s gone off to read or knit. I’m afraid she finds our company dull.”

“You’re not dull.” Thomas said, his words slurring together, unintentionally.

Sophie shook her head, shifting so that her feet rested on the floor. “You’re too kind. But, Thomas, darling, you look exhausted; you’re swaying on your feet. Come here before you fall.”

Normally, Thomas would have argued that he was fine, but tonight he was far too tired to do anything but trudge over to his parents and fall back onto the couch beside Sophie.

He rested his head on her shoulder. Sophie put an arm around him and kissed his head.

“He hasn’t slept well in a while, has he?” Gideon said.

“I’m afraid not.” Sophie said. “He might have to be carried off to bed.”

“I’m still awake, you know.” Thomas mumbled.

“Perhaps not for long,” Gideon said.

Thomas could feel Sophie snicker quietly. “We were just looking at the pictures we have of you and your sisters.”

“I remember that one.” Thomas said, pointing to one at the upper left hand corner. It was the three of them with their Lightwood cousins, Anna and Christopher. Barbara and Eugenia had twin toothy grins while Anna’s looked mischievous. Thomas and Kit were sitting on the ground in front of them, playing with the grass. Christopher had been moving, so he was a blur in the photograph. “Kit fell into the pond that day.”

Gideon burst out laughing. “How could I have forgotten about that?”

“And then Gabriel had to jump in after him because, naturally, Christopher couldn’t swim. And when he came back, dripping wet, Aunt took one look at him and said ‘it’s a bit late in summer to be going for a swim, is it not?’”

Sophie wiped her eyes from laughing too hard.

“Never a dull moment with your cousins.” Gideon said.

Thomas smiled and looked down at the photo album again.

“The day before this one, Eugenia was so angry that she threw Bab’s doll out the window and she cried for days.” Thomas felt his throat close a little bit at that one. The memory of his sister still made his throat close up.

“Those crazy girls.” Sophie said, rubbing circles into Thomas’ back. “Their shenanigans made me loose years of my life I will never get back.”

Suddenly, the telephone rang, which would have startled Thomas awake had he not been too tired for his body to react. Gideon got up. “I’ll get that.”

Thomas barely registered what Gideon said, now leaning heavily on Sophie’s shoulder. She slowly guided him to lay his head on her lap as she stroked his hair back.

“Was the mattress in The Sanctuary too small?” Sophie asked.

“It was fine.” Thomas said.

Sophie laughed. “You can tell me the truth. I won’t tell anybody.”

Thomas sighed and smiled sleepily. “It was a little bit too small.”

“A little bit too small by normal human standards or Tom standards?” Sophie said. Though his eyes were closed, he could hear the smile in her voice.

“My calves may have been on the floor.”

Sophie chuckled. “You’re too tall, darling.”

“I know.”

She bent down and kissed his cheek. Thomas liked his mother’s kisses. Her scar went from the tip of her mouth and stretched across her face. When she kept it at a neutral, her mouth was able to fully close, but when she pressed her lips forward to give a kiss, the corner pulled back slightly, which meant that Thomas could only really feel one side of her mouth. It was silly to describe, but it was distinct in a way that he could only associate it with his mother.

When he was younger, the boy his age would ask him what it was like to have a mother with such a hideous scar on her face. They always wanted to know if it ever scared him, which used to confuse Thomas. The scar was a part of his mother’s face; he never really thought much of it because it has always been there. He didn’t think it was hideous because he loved his mama and she won’t be his mother without her scar.

“Did you hit your head?” Sophie asked, feeling the small bump on his head, which was a little bit tender to the touch.

Thomas fought the urge to laugh. He had hit his head, but he didn’t want to tell his mother how. Even if she knew about Thomas and Alastair, he wouldn’t have wanted to tell her about about that, tell about. Things. Head. Alastair…

Thomas’ thoughts were turning into soup. He couldn’t concentrate on anything.

“Tom?”

“Hm,” he said softly.

He found it hard to remember where he was or what he had been doing as his eyes shut closed again, against his will.

“Sleep Thomas, darling.” Sophie said lightly. “I’ll make sure everything is alright.”

It’s like his body was waiting for permission to sleep because immediately after she said that, Thomas fell into a state of deep sleep.

He dreamt of nothing. Even his mind was too tired to conjure up a single thought. He just slept until he woke up again to hear his parent’s voices. His throat felt like honey, and he felt the urge to stretch his limbs, but he resisted it.

“Remind me again how we’ll kill the inquisitor?” Gideon was saying

“Slowly.” Sophie said calmly. Her calloused hands were still stroking Thomas’ hair and occasionally brushed his cheeks. They were so gentle he found it hard to believe that they were the same hands that fought off dozens of automatons at once. “And I’m sure we can get the rest of the family to join in as well.”

“There’s no doubt about that.” Gideon mumbled. “We can even get Henry to use his staff.”

“It’s been such a long time since I’d seen him fight. It brought me back to when I was younger. He and Charlotte would always patrol together.” Sophie said, sighing.

Thomas didn’t need to open his eyes to know she was resting her head on Gideon’s shoulder.

“Yes, I remember. Though I can’t say I heeded them much attention; I only remember scowling at my father. It’s strange how time goes by.”

Thomas never heard much about his Grandfather Benedict. Gideon didn’t like talking about his father, nor did Gabriel. Thomas was very familiar with the story of how they defeated him when he was a worm, but he knew little to nothing about Benedict when he was still human.

“Now that James is married, we have an extra family member.” Sophie said.

“We should get Alastair too, he fought well today. Like a part of the family.”

Thomas’ eyes flew open, which startled Sophie, causing her to jump in her seat.

“Goodness, Thomas. Did you have a nightmare?”

“No! I was just eager to wake up.”

Gideon and Sophie looked down at him with twin expressions of confusion and skepticism.

Thankfully, he was saved by the opening of the parlor. However, that relief was then masked with confusion when he was who came in.

“Aunt Cecily?” Thomas said, sitting up.

Gideon sat up, rigidly. “Is something wrong with Gabriel?”

“Oh, no. Heavens no.” Cecily said quickly.

Thomas swore he saw his father sigh in relief.

“I came here for something else.” Cecily looked a little bit breathless. “Lucie hasn’t stopped by here, by any chance, has she?”

“No,” Gideon said, standing up. “Why? What’s the matter, Cecy?”

“She’s gone.” Cecily said, pale.

Tagging (Sorry for the spam guys!): @tsccreatorsnet  @atla-lok143  @rinadragomir  @youngreckless  @autumnangel20  @julemmaes  @cupcakesandkittens  @no-scones-allowed  @fictionally-fantastic  @stxr-thxif  @writeforjordelia  @itsdaughterofthemoon  @jordeliasupremacy  @cordelia-cardale  @will-effing-herondale  @axoloteca  @heronstairs2014  @ilovemanicures @ti-bae-rius

If you want to be on my tag list, or if you changed your url recently and your not in the tag list anymore, let me know! Also, if you want to be removed, send me a dm! I won’t be offended in the slightest :) Oh, and if you asked to be on the tag list and you’re not on it, please tell me (I’m very absentminded lol).

#Thomas lightwood #sophie lightwood #gideon lightwood #eugenia lightwood #barbara lightwood #the last hours #tlh fanfic #tsc fanfiction #tsc fanfic #thomas lightwood fanfic

[thebigbadbatswife]

The Witching Hour - Chapter 1 - All Hallows’ Eve

Summary - When her friends dragged her to Gotham’s old cemetery for some Halloween ghost hunting fun, Y/N really didn’t think her life would end up changing like this.

Chapter Warnings - referenced/implied character death

Word Count - 3.3k

The cell phone on your nightstand buzzed incessantly as your friends continued to spam your messages. They had been doing so for the past hour or so. You were surprised that the damn thing hadn’t vibrated off of the nightstand yet. When it finally stopped, when you finally thought they had given up, you returned your attention to the document you had open on your laptop. Just as you were about to start typing again, your phone resumed its buzzing.

Huffing, you shut your laptop’s lid, placed it on the bed next to you, reached over and grabbed your phone off the nightstand. Over eighty messages both from your friends individually and within the group chat, begging you to come along with them to the old cemetery that sat outside of town. They wanted to go because it was Halloween and that meant it was the best time to go ghost hunting! And they wanted you to go along because of how you were usually drawn to this type of stuff. As well as how this type of stuff was also usually drawn to you.

Come on! For old time’s sake? Plus we’re going to have a much better chance at actually catching something if you come along!

The message was from your friend John, the ringleader of your group. The reason you and your friends had always gotten into trouble at school. Now he was trying to work his magic once again.

Only because I’m a meta with an uncomfortably close relationship with death…

As far as you knew, your powers were genetic instead of being caused by that arc reactor explosion that had given a lot of metas their powers. You were able to look past the “Veil”, as it was called, and see and interact with spirits on the other side. Not that you did so often or even liked to do. It creeped you out and you sometimes saw things that would certainly traumatize most people if they saw them. Not to mention the strain on your body and mind each time you did it. 

Why the obsession with the old cemetery now?

It had been years since John had mentioned ghost hunting, let alone the old cemetery. Back during your last year of high school, it had been all John could talk about. He was convinced that it was where the “cool” ghosts would be hanging out. None of you had ever actually gone because your last year had passed surprisingly quickly and before you all knew it, you were all moving to different parts of the country for college. In all that time it had never been mentioned again. Until now.

Ha! She finally replies! I knew you wouldn’t leave us to scream into the void forever!

The next message was from Tom, your oldest friend. Unlike the others, you two had known each other since kindergarten. If anyone was capable of talking you into going, it was probably him.

It’s been years since all of us were in the same place at the same time! Not to mention it’s Halloween and a full moon! I don’t think it could be more perfect!

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.

You know you want to come! And don’t you dare lie!

He wasn’t wrong about that either. You were a little curious. The cemetery was on the outskirts of Gotham City. According to the internet, the cemetery had members of Gotham’s oldest families buried there. If you were to use your powers there to look past the Veil, there was a chance some of those people could still be hanging around. It would certainly be an unique opportunity to converse with them and, perhaps, attempt to help move on. Or maybe you would find inspiration for your next short ghost story. You certainly had been struggling with inspiration recently so maybe this was exactly what you needed.

Okay! Fine! I’ll come!

You scoffed as you hit ‘send’. Once again, Tom had talked you into joining them. A small part of you was convinced he was a meta with some sort of manipulation power.  

That’s great! ‘Cause we’re already outside your house!

John replied, causing you to roll your eyes. Of course they were already outside. Why wouldn’t they be?

You locked your phone, got up from your bed and slipped your phone into your pocket. You grabbed your jacket from your wardrobe and made your way out of your bedroom and down the stairs. You grabbed your keys from the bowl on the table, near the front door.

“Y/N? Where are you going at this hour sweetheart?” your grandma called from the living room.

“I’m going to meet up with some old friends. I’ll be back soon!” you replied. You didn’t tell her where you guys were going since you knew she would most definitely disapprove.

“Stay safe!”

“Will do!”

After your parents’ death, your grandma had not only raised you, but helped you learn how to use your abilities so that, should you choose to, you’d be able to use them. Not that she would approve of you constantly using them. Looking through the Veil could sometimes draw the attention of extremely unwanted creatures that were looking for a route to the physical world. You knew how to defend yourself from them, but that didn’t mean you really wanted to get into that situation to begin with. If you were going to use your abilities tonight, you were going to have to be extremely careful.

The entire drive there, your friends excitedly talked about what they could potentially capture on either video or audio. John was driving, Tom sat in the passenger seat next to him and you were sitting in the back with Rebecca.

A couple of hours later and the car finally pulled up in front of the cemetery. John turned off the engine and you all got out. Since it was pretty much pitch black out here, you all got out your phones and turned on your flashlights.

Tall stone walls covered in moss and vines surrounded the cemetery and an old rusted iron gate stopped the car from going any further. Threaded through the bars of the gate was large rusted chain with an equally rusted padlock. Even if you guys had the key, you seriously doubted it would have worked anyway.

“Are you kidding me?” asked Tom, as he useless pulled against the chain. “This is so unfair!”

“Uh, maybe we could try to scale the walls or something?” Rebecca suggested as she walked over to where the vines seemed at their thickest. She gave them a gentle tug. “Looks like it might hold our weight, if we go up one by one.”

Tom shook his head. “And get covered in spiders? Yeah, no thanks!”

Rebecca frowned as she used her phone’s light to have a closer look at the vines. “I can’t see any spiders.”

“That’s because you’re not looking in the right spots,” he replied as he walked over to her. He shone his own light up at the vines.

While you walked over to them, to get a better look at what Tom was trying to show her, John shook his head and walked back toward the car.

“See all of those tiny turquoise dots shinning back at us?” he asked her as he pointed above where there were a lot of tiny turquoise dots sparkling in the light.

“Yeah, they’re like little drops of moisture right?”

“You would think, but they’re not! Those are the eyes of all those horrid little spiders!”

Rebecca squealed and immediately backed away from the wall. “Tom! Why the fuck would you tell me that! Fuck! There’s probably going to be so many of them inside the actual cemetery! And now I know how to spot them!”

“I don’t think that’s going to be much of an issue considering we can’t get in anyway,” you said as you gestured toward the very locked gate. This whole thing was starting to feel like a massive waste of time.

“Oh! But we can!” John announced as he strode on over to you three with a large pair of bolt cutters in hand. He also had a backpack slung over his shoulder. As he cut the chain, John explained how he had swung by here earlier to see if there was anything that would stop you lot from getting in. When he saw the chain, he had gone to the hardware store, that was located in the worst part of the city, and bought these. “Only place I could find that had bolt cutters big enough for a chain like this!”

“Aren’t we like breaking the law or something right now?” Rebecca asked just as the cutters snipped through the chain and it clanged against the gate.

“Probably,” John replied very nonchalantly. “But we’re pretty much committed at this point now. Besides, look at this place! No one’s been here in years! I seriously doubt we’re going to get caught.”

The iron gate creaked loudly as it was pushed open and you all headed inside. The others walked ahead while you trailed behind. The way they were talking, discussing who was buried here and therefor who they could potentially “contact”, made you feel like you had time-travelled back to high school.

When you all got to the centre of the cemetery, John took the backpack off and opened it. It was filled with all sorts of equipment that was used in modern day ghost hunting. Voice recorders, emf meters, even a couple of high end night vision cameras. Damn, he had really gone all out for this. After the gear had been handed out, John began to give everyone directions as to where they were off to investigate.

Tom and Rebecca were going to be investigating the southwest of the cemetery, which was the newest part, John was headed up to the north, where some mausoleums were shaded by an old willow tree and you:

“And Y/N, you get the oldest part of the cemetery which is toward the east!”

“Right, of course, send the meta to the creepiest part of this place,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Well, you said it, not me! Good luck and we’ll meet back here in a couple of hours,” John replied. With that, you all split up and went your separate ways.

The cemetery was vastly overgrown. Most of the headstones were buried beneath the long unruly grass, brambles and vines. Every now and then your flashlight would catch a glimpse of the grey stone underneath. You also caught more glimpses of those glowing spider eyes and were doing your best to ignore them. You really hated Tom sometimes.

Thanks to all of the plants, you could barely see the path. The only thing that indicated you were walking on one was every now and then you could feel a stone slab shift underneath your feet.

The further east you walked, the darker and darker the cemetery seemed to get. It also seemed to get creepier and creepier, which was strange to you because you never really found cemeteries creepy. Instead you had always found them peaceful. A lot of people found you weird for that. There was also the feeling that something was watching you. The uneasiness that came along with that feeling was enough to prevent you from using either your recorder or your abilities. If there really was something watching you, you got the feeling that the last thing you wanted to do was attract its attention. After all, who knew what truly lurked here? Especially on the other side.

You eventually reached a group of mausoleums. Much like the rest of the cemetery, they were covered in bramble, vines and other plantlife. They were tall and the parts of them you could see, you could tell were certainly made of far more expensive stone than the rest of the place. This wasn’t just the oldest part, this was also the richest part.

You approached a few of the mausoleums and managed to clear away some of the plants covering the name plates. The majority of the names had been erased due to the elements, but not all of them. The names that were still readable were also names you recognised. Kane, Elliot, Crowne. Three of the First Families of Gotham.

You were about to approach another when you saw something large and black move, out of the corner of your eye. You spun around and shone your flashlight in the direction of the shadow, but there was nothing there.

“Hello?” you called out, which was probably a terrible idea, but it was the only thing you could think of doing. “Who’s there?” You waited for a reply, but no reply came.

Was your nerves making you see things? It couldn’t be a spirit; you weren’t using your powers. Unless… Throughout your life you had heard of non metas who had “seen” things in their peripheral vision. Sometimes they were spirits that had briefly broken through the Veil, other times it really was just people imagining things. Until now you had never experienced it before and you hated how impossible it was to tell which one it was.  

Turning on your phone’s screen, you looked at the time. You still had an hour before you had to head back to meet back up with the others. Turning the screen off again, you looked back in the direction you had seen the shadow move toward. Did you follow? It sounded like an awful idea, but the only other thing you could do was head back early and then wait around for everyone else, and that sounded incredibly boring.

‘ Okay, guess I’m doing this then,’ you thought as you began to head down the path, in the direction the shadow had gone.

You had previously thought that there was no way this cemetery could be anymore overgrown than it already was. This new part you were now walking through proved you wrong. Extremely wrong.

Branches hanging low off of trees and thorns from the brambles tugged at your clothing as you passed them. You had to keep an extra careful eye out on where you were stepping so that you didn’t trip over and injure yourself. There were more mausoleums, but you could barely make their shapes out through all of the greenery.

As you walked, that feeling that something was watching you increased tenfold and you found yourself constantly glancing back. Each time you looked you were met with the same result. There was nothing there.

‘ It’s just my overactive imagination ,’ you told yourself, but that did nothing to soothe your growing fear. What if the thing you had seen had been an actual person? And not a good person at that. This was Gotham after all and for some reason Halloween was when most, if not all, the psychopaths suddenly came out to play. Were you about to become another notch in some serial killer’s knife hilt? Oh, you really hoped not. That was not how you wanted to go.

Before your mind could lead you down a dark path of all the vivid ways you could be brutally murdered right now, the path came to an end. At the end of it sat a lone mausoleum. This one didn’t look nearly as old as the others nor was it as covered in plants like the rest. As you walked over to it you saw one of the large iron doors had fallen off its hinges and now laid on the ground.

Cautiously, you approached the entrance. When you were close enough, you shone your light on the name plate. The name ‘Wayne’ was engraved on to it. You got a feeling that that was somehow important, but you really didn’t know why. Nor why you were so drawn to it. Almost as if you were now on autopilot, you stepped inside the mausoleum.

The first two names you saw were Martha and Thomas Wayne. Even years after their deaths, you knew the names well. Before their untimely deaths they had been trying to use their fortune to help the city and its more vulnerable citizens.

The next name you saw, you didn’t recognise. Jason Peter Todd. You were shocked when you saw his death date. “Fuck, you were barely sixteen years old,” you whispered. That was... that was not fair at all.

The last name was Bruce Wayne. It stood out to you a lot more than the others had. Almost as if it was…. Glowing? What? That made no sense. Okay, you were definitely just seeing things now. To prove that to yourself, you turned your flashlight off. The name continued to glow, in fact now it was a hell of a lot brighter.

“What the fuck?”

You peered closer to see if there was any small lights or something similar causing it to glow, but there wasn’t anything. The name was actually glowing! Freaked out, you took a picture of it (without the flash of course), and sent it to Tom. A few agonising minutes passed before he finally replied.

Why are you sending me a completely black photo?

What? You checked the picture you had sent and, yeah, the name was definitely visible.

Can’t you see the glowing name?

If Tom couldn’t see it, then what did that mean?

What are you on about? There’s nothing there. Are you okay?

Was this somehow related to your powers? Is that why Tom wasn’t able to see it? If that was the case, and with each passing second it seemed to be, then he or the others couldn’t help.

Yeah, I’m fine. Nevermind.

Sighing, you checked the time before you shut off you phone and slipped it into your pocket. Thirty minutes before you had to head back. You were on your own. If this was related to your powers then what exactly did you do with it? Your grandma had never mentioned anything like this before, so you had no clue. You still felt uneasy and this new discovery had done nothing to help so you really didn’t want to peer through the Veil, unless it was absolutely necessary.

Would anything happen if you reached out and touched it? You sometimes got flashes of memories or feelings when you touched some items. Maybe this could be the same? You supposed the only way to find out would be to touch the stone. Cautiously you reached out and pressed the palm of your hand against the cold stone.

Images flashed through your mind. Movie tickets, a pearl necklace, a gun. There was the sound of the gun firing, a child’s blood chilling scream and the loud wailing of police sirens. Then it was over and you were brought back to reality, with far more questions than you had previously started with.

Before you were able to question or make sense of what you had seen, your phone vibrated. Taking it out, you saw a text from John, as well as several others.

Are you nearly here?

We were supposed to meet up fifteen minutes ago. Where are you?

Did your phone die?

It did, didn’t it. Unless you’re currently doing one of your meta things?

So what had simply been mere seconds for you in reality had been forty five minutes for everyone else. Which wasn’t all that unusual for you, but could certainly make people that didn’t deal with it daily worry. With that in mind, you fingers flew across your keyboard as you typed out your reply.

Yeah, meta thing, sorry. I’m on my way back now.

You turned your flashlight back on and walked back to the entrance. Before leaving, you looked back to where the glowing of Bruce Wayne’s name was now slowly fading away. Whoever he had been, he was asking for your help. You were sure of it and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

#batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman #bruce wayne #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #metahuman!reader #the witching hour #my writing

[elindae-writes]

... Megatron is having fun with Cheep, when he discovers...Topper. nOoOooO. He almost blasts Topper to pieces because apparently 'she was trying to kill Cheep for being the favourite.'

"flap those wings, flap 'em," Megatron hums. They are in a large field. Both of his servo's pointer fingers are placed under each of Cheep's wings and he's making her flap them up and down. A powerful wind is blowing out of the sky. The chat is spamming "flap! flap! flap!"

Topper is sitting in the grass nearby watching the "training session."

"flap, flappity flap," Megatron chants to Cheep. "flaaaaa--"

Somebody clears their throat. "My Lord," Starscream says smoothly.

Megatron flinches, turns around, and screams right in Starscream's smug faceplate.

"cHRIST STARSCREAM"

"I hate to interrupt... whatever this is--"

"this is highly important."

"--I, heh, have no doubt of that! But. Um. The soldiers are wondering ...?"

Megatron twists Cheep around so that she can also see Starscream.

Starscream gulps and continues. "They are curious as to when your lordship will return to the Nemesis?"

"not until cheep flaps. she's learning to fly"

He chucks Cheep across the field. She arcs into the air, bounces onto the ground, and then rolls across the grass for a few moments.

Megatron nods. "she flew"

Starscream gasps. "What?! She fell!"

"she flew. she flapped. she ascended. she soared," Megatron whispers as he stares wide-eyed into the sky. A strong wind flurries by. Cheep gets caught up in it and gets blown away.

Starscream rubs the sides of his helm. "...Okay. You know that she's getting blown away right now, right?"

Cheep is now "flying." Her small brown form grows smaller amidst the vast blue of the sky.

"cHEEP" Megatron shrieks.

Megatron drops the camera and breaks into a run after Cheep's small airborne form. Starscream hums and picks the camera up.

"Well. Let us see if our lord is successful in catching his bird, shall we?" He turns it around and records Megatron's distant form spazzing around in a field as he pursues the small floating brown dot.

Starscream clicks his tongue. "Oh dear, there's a road ahead. Plenty of traffic, too. Hopefully he does not wander into it and--"

Megatron does just that and immediately gets hit by a truck. Cheep is yeeted off by the winds right out of his grasping talons. She drifts off into a surburban neighborhood--with Megatron hot on her trail.

"Ah, and now Lord Megatron has pursued the Beanie Baby into a human residential area," Starscream says.

Megatron runs right into a block party. The crowd screams.

"MOVE," he says, his voice so loud that it shakes the shingles. "I NEED TO CATCH MY BIRD." He slices out with his sword, slashes a nearby bouncy house, and it instantly falls and deflates.

Cheep is carried over someone's backyard. Megatron bursts through the wall of the yard and runs right into somebody's pool. Cheep is taken by the winds right upward and Megatron screams. He floats faceplate-down as Cheep is spiraled off into the sky.

Starscream zooms in on Megatron's distant form. He then takes a deep vent and shouts something Megatron seemingly forgot:

"You know you can transform, right?"

Megatron looks up and then glances at Cheep's airborne body. Megatron then does just that, flies up, grabs Cheep, and then lands back in the water below with a giant splash.

He crawls out of the pool, walks through the gap in the fence he created, past the panicking block party, and back to the field. He is now dripping wet. Cheep is dry.

Megatron glares. "You did not assist me! You snake! You treacherous fiend! I tolerated your past betrayals, but this? This cannot be forgiven."

Starscream flinches. "My Lord, please, no--!"

Megatron points at Topper. "you DECEITFUL GIRAFFE. i bet you SENT that wind out of the sky to abduct cheep"

Starscream blinks. "You think the giraffe can...?"

"control the weather, yes. it is obvious. the wind was too perfect to be a mistake."

Topper stares blankly.

Starscream runs in front of her. "Please! Have leniency here and grant this giraffe mercy! Her legs are two inches tall, what could she have possibly done to manipulate the weather or help rescue Commander Cheep?"

Megatron rubs his chin. "i suppose you have a point. you have done a good job speaking in defense of this giraffe. you are on thin ice here, topper."

Topper topples over.

#mcprime universe #megatron #starscream #cheep #topper

[povcherry]

The Love Test | DNF

Dream and George take a test to see if they are in love with their best friend

The intense red text was prominent on his screen. Frustratingly, the one time Dream agrees to playing bedwars with George and Hypixel is down.

Dream lent back in his chair, hands behind his head staring up at the ceiling. His room was dark, the only light shone from his monitors. Patches wrapped around his legs. A deep sigh left George, as he lay his head on his desk in exasperation, an empty subway wrapper by his face, the time on his monitor read 2:17 am, yet he wasn't tired. After being on calls almost consecutively with Dream for essentially a year, he had managed to sync his sleep schedule up with him, already in Florida time prepared for when he goes to live with Dream and Sapnap.

George was disheartened. He was looking forward to playing with Dream. They were both normally either too tired or busy editing or working to go on minecraft for fun, and not just for a YouTube video. But now that they couldn't play bedwars, they were bored and unsure of what to do. They only called each other so that they could play minecraft, but that wasn't an option anymore.

"What do you want to do now then?" Dream asks, his voice far away from the mic, so much so that George nearly missed what he said. He hesitated, staring at Dreams discord profile picture light up.

"We could..." He stalled, drawing out his words. He wasn't the best at making decisions, he was much to indecisive. "Do you want to stream GeoGuessr?" He suggested, silently hoping Dream would say no. He didn't really want to do anything, only talk to Dream for hours on end.

"Not really. My brain is too slow for that level of concentration." That earned a giggle from George, putting a small smile on Dreams face. He loved that sound. "How about we go in my merch vc? Me and ni- Sapnap had fun last time just listening to music?"

George was hesitant. The last time he went in Dreams merch voice call was during the sleep over with Sapnap and Dream. That ended up in a disaster of butterflies and George having to turn his phone off for a couple of hours just to distract himself from the 'dreamnotfound' mayhem they had caused yet again on twitter. He felt giddy just thinking about it, Dream whispering into the mic, loudly cursing when George beat him at 8ball. It made him dizzy thinking about it... thinking about him.

George didn't hate it though- the attention from Dream and the fans. Despite all the jokes and innuendos that they both do to mess with their fans, George knew there was some truth to it all. A deeper meaning to being called an idiot. The endearing term that Dream loved to use oh so much. George felt fluttery, wanting to be called an idiot at this moment.

"George?" He had been silent for a while, reminiscing.

"What would we do on there?"

"Just talk. Or listen to music. Whatever you want to do, George".

Without thinking, George clicked onto the icon for Dreams server. "Do you need to add me to the call?" He asked, unsure about how the podcasts worked.

"Yeah, I need to quickly tell my mods to open it first."

Within minutes, they where in the call, hundreds of people pouring in immediately, spamming the chat with things like 'GEORGE?!' and blue and green hearts. George stifled a giggle, nerves taking over him. Despite doing streams for a living with tens of thousands of people watching him, there was something more intimate with calling Dream in a private server.

"Hello" Dream broke the silence, welcoming all the fans. He chuckled, looking at the chat, "Yes, George is here today. Hypixel was down and we had nothing to do"

"Hi" George was unsure what to say, scratching his neck in awkwardness. It wasn't this weird when he was streaming. At least then they had a plan and chat was relatively easy to read. He was doubtful that this call would end well, what with his ignorance to some innuendos and jokes involving DreamNotfound.

"We thought we would just pop on here. We're kind of bored." Dream stated, unable to see what people where spamming in the #podcast chat. "I can't see what you guys are saying, i'll probably just read my twitch chat."

Half an hour passed and George was getting hungry and bored, nothing eventful had really happened so far except for Dream explaining his setup and chat freaking out over his galaxy mouse pad.

"I want food but all that's in my fridge is butter... oh and the BTS sauces and... uhm expired milk" George complained, looking through his fridge while still on the call.

Dream chucked, "Why do you have expired milk in your fridge?"

"Not the point, I just want food"

"Well get some food then" Dream counteracted. George sighed and rolled his eyes, sitting back down in his chair. His stomach rumbled loudly, calling out to his hunger.

"I'm going to order McDonald's." And with that George muted his mic, found the McDonald's number and ordered his food, in the background, he could hear Dream.

"Should i do a quiz?... yeah? Link some in the podcast chat." There was a long silence. George, long ordered his food, stayed muted, listening to Dream talk to his chat. He found it so endearing the way Dream spoke to them, as though they where a family. His voice soft and gentle as he scrolled through the chat looking for a quiz.

"Ooh, this looks interesting... oh, 'Am I In Love With My Best Friend?'. Sounds... interesting" George stopped. Everything seemed to slow down. Eyes wide as he looked at the screen infront of him, Dreams discord icon lighting up as he chuckled nervously. He wasn't actually going to do it was he? The room was getting hot for George, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to delve into the idea of being in love with his best friend, let alone his best friend being in love with him.

He quickly unmuted, ready to call Dream out on what he was doing, but Dream beat him to it.

"George, i'm going to do the 'Am I In Love With My Best Friend?' quiz" He laughed, opening up the link and reading out the first question. "do you catch yourself looking at your best friend?"

George stalled. They had face timed multiple times in the past, Dream only letting George see his eyes upwards, but George always found it hard for him to look away. He got lost staring at his best friends eyes. George quickly messaged Dream asking for the link for the quiz, if Dream was going to do it, so would George.

"Dream, check dm's" He rushed.

"Huh, what, why?" Dream asked, busy trying to still his own heart beat. He had always known at the back of his mind that he had romantic feelings for George, whether that is because he was just touched starved and was desperate, or because he genuinely wanted more than just a friendship with George, suppressing his feelings as to not ruin anything between them.

"Just read it." George urged, getting apprehensive, unsure whether he should just delete the comment and over analyse everything Dream says.

But before he knew it, the link to the quiz had been sent to George, a small smiley face underneath it from Dream. George was about to reply with a '?' to the smile, but Dream spoke up again.

"I just put 'once in a while', i mean, it's not like im never looking at you but i don't do it like.. all the time." George clicked all the time. He couldn't get enough of Dreams warm amiable eyes. His eyes were a kind of green that speaks to the soul of nature, of fresh wands of grass and new buds, and his eyes were that bright colour, bold and beautiful.

"Right," he snickered, " next question, 'are they the first person you call when something happens?' uhm... yeah, i guess. But not always, i mean i would call my mom first." He laughed, ignoring the fact that George was silent. George always called Dream if something was wrong. He wasn't in contact with his parents, Sapnap wasn't the most mature when it came to serious things, yes he was a great friend and he would be there for George if he needed, but Dream came first. George put Dream before everyone, at time even before himself.

"George?" Dream disrupted his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You're being so quiet, everyone is asking if you're asleep" George looked at chat, Sure enough, between all the green and blue hearts, there where people spamming Georges name and sleep.

"Oh uhm no, it is 3 am though. Kind of tired." He said, anxiously looking at the next question, mouse already hovering over 'it's nice if i can'. George didn't wake up thinking about Dream, not always anyway. Just if they had fallen asleep on call together, or if they were recording a video that day.

"You should sleep." His voice had softened. He too was looking at the same question. Thinking about George staying up just for him made him feel giddy, but he also didn't want George to be sleep deprived.

George held back a smile. "I'm good, we're in sync bb" he snickered, knowing that would get a rise out of the chat. He could practically hear Dream roll his eyes in exasperation.

"Oh come on" He laughed, his voice low and raspy as he started to read out the next question. He couldn't get through it without laughing, however. "'Do you get jealous if he or she has a boyfriend or girlfriend?' Oh come on! I mean..." He started, George's scoff cut him off. "What?" Dream laughed.

"Nothing" George giggled

"To be fair.. no, but... i mean, wouldn't anyone?"

"Not really." George counteracted.

"Well, no. But! But! But! It would be one of those things where it's like, awe, now he's gonna be spending time, like, doing that, instead of like, with us. Like with like, me and sap. So, I'll put maybe a little. Right? Maybe a little.?" Dream stuttered, trying to defend his reasoning while George just giggled at his flusteredness.

George had already clicked 'ugh its the worst' already. He remembered when Dream had told him Sapnap was moving in with him. Now, George knew his best friends. He knew there was nothing going on between Dream and Sapnap, but something about them living together tickled George the wrong way. He was pissed off, to say the least. George wasn't normally jealous, but when it came to Dream, he became a different person. He almost didn't want to share Dream with anyone else... George wanted Dream all to himself.

"Dream, no one is arguing with you..." George whispered endearingly, a small smile painted across his lips.

The next few questions were uneventful. Dream still defended his answers despite no body calling him out on them. The chat was a blur of left ear jokes and and blue and greens. George answered 'yes' on the majority of the questions.

" Do you have dreams about them? Im- Okay! That's unfair, like, oh my god. Okay, I'll put sometimes." Dream rushed, desperately wanting to move onto the next question. He didn't want to tell chat, and especially George, about the dreams he has. No body knew about the desperation Dream has when he dreams about George. The want and longing to touch George in many ways than one. The heartache Dream feels when he wakes up because he knows the happiness his feels in his dreams could never be recreated.

"What?" George once again giggled. He was starting to have fun now. Seeing Dream embarrassed made George feel slightly better about his answers, but at this rate he was afraid the quiz would tell him he's so hopelessly in love with his best friend that there was no hope for him. "What do you dream about me?"

"You- you've had- you're- you're an idiot, you've had dreams! You've had one hundred pe- you've told me about dreams you've had!" He stammered, struggling to get his words out correctly without revealing too much. He was starting to get hot, the air conditioning in his room seemed to do nothing, the 'GNF' jumper he was wearing was suffocating him. He was suddenly finding it hard to breath under the weird pressure of these questions he had no obligation answering.

"What type of dreams, hmm?" George teased. He had his head resting in his hands leaning on the desk, taking in everything Dream was saying. George, of course had clicked 'all the time' about dreaming about Dream. Dream was on his mind 24/7.

"Oh don't even start with me, i know you've had dreams about me. You told me you've like.. texted me in your dreams or something. You.. you definitely have, anyway..." The two argued for the next few questions, and it was all smooth sailing for both Dream and George, until it came to the big one. The one that caused George to almost throw up the McDonald's that he had eaten a half hour ago.

Dream went silent. George could almost hear Dreams heart beating through the mic. He knew why, too. He saw the question. George had been dreading this. He chose to stay silent, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Do you ever think about what it would be like to kiss your best friend?" Dream was silent for almost thirty seconds. He felt sick. The amount of times he had wondered what Georges lips felt like. Whether or not they were made for him. Perfectly molded to fit Dreams own. He dreamt about them constantly. The soft touch of lips. He was beyond salvageable. "Uhm, n-no. Of course not."

"Why did you take so long to answer?" George was apprehensive. He wondered whether Dream thought about kissing him as much as he did. George so desperately wanted to, he wanted to feel them on his own lips, wanted to know what Dream tasted like, how he smelt. He was forlorn.

"I'm just going to put, well... i'm going to put.. well there's no good answers. I'm just going to put 'yes but it would be like kissing my mom'". He lied, his mouse had been hovering over 'at least a few times a day', unsure whether to click it or not, but he knew the truth. He wanted to kiss George more than he ever wanted to do anything ever.

The rest of the quiz, George kept silent. If he opened his mouth, he would confess his love on the spot. He had finished all the questions, revealing a 32%. He was totally in love with his best friend. Desperately, pathetically and hopelessly in love. He needed help.

"Okay, last question" Georges ears pricked up at this, he was happy it was almost over. He needed to talk to Dream in private, even if it killed him. "Do you see them in your future?... of course. A lot of my future is your future. I don't want a future without you in it..." Dream whispered, muting his physical mic so that no one could hear his breath leave his body. That was the most intimate he had probably ever been with George in front of fans. He hoped he hadn't just messed anything up.

George still stayed silent. Dreams answer made him almost cry with happiness. He couldn't imagine a future without Dream.

Dream un-muted his mic to finish up the quiz, "It says, you are in love with a few things about your best friend, so it's likely that you could fall entirely in love with them if you... if things keep up the way they are right now." George was unsure of what to say. Chat was once again asking if he was asleep. Both boys took no notice. Almost silently, so silently George almost missed it. But he held his breath, staring at the monitor with fear. All colour had drained from his face. He was about to pass out.

"If.. if you're worried they don't feel the same way... you're going to have to find out how to shut your feelings off, you don't want to ruin what you have."... no one talked for a couple seconds... both of them waiting for the other to say something, until George plucked up the courage.

"I don't want to ruin anything, Dream."

George loved Dream, and Dream was sure he loved George.

#georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #dreamwasfound #gream #dreamnotfound #dnf brainrot #short story

[fallencrowkarma]

tHAT WAS THE BEST ADD ON EVER, I GOT BIG BRAIN BUT YOU HAVE GIGANTIC BRAIN- I loved the Albedo and Scaramouche actually good friends like YEs!

With that said- I've thought of a few others!

Razor's spelling, grammar and all that is nonexistent- worse than Scaramouche's (I swear Scara does it on purpose-) this mans prolly sends voice messages instead because it's so hard to type- hell the voice messages are hard enough as it is 😭 prolly tries to communicate via emojis

Bennett... aka the only one who probably properly and fully understands what Razor is saying no matter what- most likely a professional translator of Razor talk, and a professional type maker- also a professional at crashing any app he's on. He's probably asking everyone for a charger cuz his end up breaking and stuff

Yae is... idk- another person moderating but also lurking- she lurks and just reacts to messages like you can in messenger and instagram- she's also the one the causes Scara to INSTANTLY go offline- like, you see "Yae Miko is online" and 0.5 seconds later you see "Scaramouche is offline". She probably just likes to subtly annoy Scaramouche by changing his name so he has to change it back- we have a list so far of "Fandango Man" "Unnecessarily Big Hat" "Frisbee" "Psycho" aaannnddd "Angry Cat"

Ei is there.. just there- she's probably trying to turn the chat into some sort of dystopia- or trying to mute whoever she thinks is annoying at that moment. Also probably asking for links to sites that sell lots of candy

Ayaka half lurks and half is active. Since she doesn't have many friends she's reading the chat, wanting to say something but a little nervous

Thoma- Thoma. That's it- (he's probably telling lame but funny jokes, sending mlvine compilations- rip vine 😔)

Yoimiya is talking about fireworks, taking pictures of the fireworks she's making and spamming it in the chat- asking Albedo to show Klee the fireworks she made cuz.. I can see Klee absolutely LOVING fireworks.

Sucrose is usually showing some of her bio alchemy stuff, giving links to different studies and all that good stuff- she's pretty quiet in the chat since she's naturally shy but I think once she knows reader she'll start opening up a lot more

Lisa the other flirt- like.. she reminds you of a MILF, instantly. Like- beg her to make ASMRs pLEASE- her voice is perfection for it!

Venti is drunk like half the time he's online- he's either drunkly sending music links, sending the same links AGAIN after getting sober, OR it says he's online but in reality he's knocked tf out on his bed- but does he ever have a hangover afterwards??? If he does, he's good at hiding it

Noelle is probably cleaning most of the time, but when she DOES have free time, she comes online and talks to the reader! But even then she can't stop stressing about work and all that like plEASE YOU AND JEAN NEED A B R E A K -

Sara is simping over Ei the entire time while also starting to simp for reader at the same time, prove me wrong

Ganyu is there- she's online more than Xiao- she touches grass, absolutely, but she prolly finds time to get online and say hi, way more often than Xiao. Ask her about glaze lillies please

Keching is usually too busy to get on, but the off chance she have the time or is able to multitask, she'll say hi. She's one of the other more competent people. She has pretty good grammar and spelling so when she makes a typo she's like apologizing and hella embarrassed

Ningguang, Jean part 2 electric boogaloo- except less stressed? She has a proper texting style, I wouldn't doubt. Probably trying to get Beidou to behave but... Beidou says fucc u-

Beidou, the rum queen- she's probably repeatedly sending links to the Wellerman song and "yar har fiddle dee dee", I refuse to be wrong- I can see her probably sending different versions of the Wellerman song too

Kazuha- mans talking in poems as always, even over text. How does he do it? We shall never know- but he also likes music- I could see him (along with Xinyan and Barbara) being into the Vocaloid genre (if you dunno what vocaloid is, vocaloid is a vocal synth- people make songs or covers and post it to places like YouTube, niconicodouga, and bilibili) he's more into the lullaby, soft type of vocaloid songs

Returning to Xinyan and Barbara for a sec- Xinyan is absolutely into the more wild vocaloid songs- like she prolly listens to people like Masa, Deino, UTSU-P, and Pinocchio-P, as well as Wowaka. Barbara most likely listens to the up beat songs- well... the ones that SOUND up beat- whether the lyrics (which are typically on japanese) are up beat or not.. is up for debate (Vocaloid is notorious for having happy, catchy sounding songs with incredibly dark meanings, ranging from death to even darker themes [cough- masa- cough-])

Anndd... adding the kids in here for a second- they're there just cuz... whoever they know- and any relationship would be purely platonic- like sibling-like relationships

Klee caused chaos- no matter what- catch her sending baby shark over and over- please stop playing that song Klee- I love you but pLEASE- chances are she'll yoink Albedo's phone just to type on his account if she doesn't have her own phone... that would probably end up being the reason she ends up GETTING a phone- she's also probably making cute little doodles on ibispaint and sending them because LOok SHE DREW THE READER, ALBEDO AND HER! Doesn't have the best typing or grammar skills cuz she's a child, and probably shortens words a Lot- like "u" "r" and might spell "bye" as "bai", also emoji spam woohoo- she also most likely understands Razor second best

QiQi... is a lurker- she's a zombie so she probably slightly forgets how to use the chat. Types in the shortest sentences, instead even a run on sentence its like... 3 words, send, 4 words, send, 2 words, send- and repeat

Sayu is asleep- usually. When she wakes up she logs on to say hi and good morning even if it's 2 in the afternoon (me too, Sayu, me too-) and then probably off to eat and take a cat nap- she also probably watches sonic just because he's fast- and does the roll run thingy she does

Diona is probably ranting about alcohol and alcoholics and wHY aRe tHEy DrInKing SO Much!? Probably starts trying to roast venti everytime he comes on drunk (99% of the time-) and when she's not doing that she's sending cat pictures and cat memes because cAt! She probably has the better spelling and grammar between all the kids- I could see it

NONONO YOU HAVE THE GIGANTIC BRAIN-

also vocaloid is like,,, the 'genre' I listen to the most,,, with J-pop and Weirdcore together dhfjfj so i fully support any voca headcanons ya got!!!!

Okay for people who don't know the context this is a Part 2 ish for a genshin modern au otome concept we are throwing together. Aka throwing random headcanons at each other!!! This is Not planned Out at all, Just random fun!

Razor communicating with emojis 😭😭😭😭 thats literally so so cute. He tries his best with words but emojis usually work better, especially with Bennys help. Razor sends so many hearts because he is precious and loves his friends :((( No one dares to make fun of him :((( He uses 🐺 for himself and 🤕 for Bennett ndjfhfhfjd Like "🐺❤️🤕👬🏻" SO CUTE. Reader gets a special heart emoji!

Bennett being Razors translator❤️❤️❤️❤️ Bennys charger breaks, his display breaks, the apps break, he somehow loses his phone case (Benny how???) And he's always low on battery :((( but he's still the nicest lil guy :((( Always so friendly and helpful :((( His way of texting is so cute and energetic!! "Razor!!!! Let's go to the good hunter!!! :D". The sweetest bean ever.

Yae's made me laugh so hard with Scara going offline immedietly. Thats just hilarious and also true😭 I'm not sure what to add for her cuz you got it all😭😭 the lurking mod that annoys ppl (scara, ei and gorou mostly) , her reactions to show shes always watching (how???), the name changing... It's all there. Mmm maybe i'd say if reader catches her attention she'll be kinda lowkey teasingly flirting!!! (Wowie ma'am)

Ei really is just kinda there??? Cuz like if we seperate Raiden from Ei and make them family it'll be like... Ei is nice and quiet and Raiden is intimidating and just mutes people when shes annoyed. Yae likes to annoy them both. Ei likes to drink tea and eat sweets with Zhongli :) I don't know much about Ei or Raiden tbh 😭😭😭

Ayaka being shy 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 she wants to get along with everyone but it's intimidating :((( she probably sticks to cute reactions and encouragements :(((( Thoma and Reader try to add her into the convo like 'haha yeah right, ayaka?' and it's very sweet. She likes how lively everyone is :))

Thoma is friends with almost everyone. It's impossible to find a reason to hate him. He's a fun Dude!! He always offers his help, even if it's the middle of the night. And he can pretty much do everything. Change tires? Yes. Fix ur electricity? Of course. Need a hug? Always. He's so neat. Thoma makes sure fights in chat don't get too serious. He's an unofficial mod :)

YES YES YES Yoimiya unofficially adopting Klee because Klee loves her fireworks 😭😭 She also gets along with many people! Shes sweet and funny and energetic! She talks a lot so zheres not a lot of awkward silence. She and Zhongli probably share long ass stories. Somehow she manages to tie different people into convos eventhough they may never talk otherwise!!!

Sucrose showing things off in main chat when shes super proud :((( helping people gather study material :((( Theres probably a shy bean chat with her, Reader, Albedo, Ganyu and Ayaka <3 Just a cute little friendly chat. Thats where you really get to know her and her passion.

Lisa probably unironically has her name set to MILF witch or something sbdbdhdhdh she knows shes hot and flirty and shes not afraid to show it. But shes also very kind and helpful in a 'i'll help you help yourself' kinda way? Also pls talk to her about books. She'll be so heart eyed <3 Always calls everyone pet names <3 also Lisa making you an ASMR When you can't sleep 😩 (hot MILFs helps you Fall asleep LMFAO)

Man Venti is like... A whole ass mess 😭😭😭😭 but his drunken ramblings can be hella funny, especially when it starts making less and less sense. Kaeya and Rosaria love to humor him and get him to talk more. Venti sending the same link 3 times a day <3 but he's really nice and fun when you catch him sober!! He gets pretty clingy too, especially when drunk. Sometimes he has these... Philosophical moments where He says something smart and deep. That's when you wonder what type of person he really is.

Noelle deadass barely there😭😭 Either cleaning or idk fencing? That's neat for her. Shes very passionate and loves to tell the Reader all about her training!!! Shes so worried about being perfect and shes so grateful when the Reader tries to calm her anxiety and stress. She gets shy when complimented <3 everyone respects her but not many know her well. Shes happy to have the Reader <3

HSHDHDDH Sara having a crush on Reader and Ei <3 (on that note.. poly routes my beloved<3). Sara is just very unamused at everyones bullshit and keeps to herself unless the conversation is serious. (And or the people talking have at least 2 braincells each). She gives great advice to many things. Except love :') Sara is very independent tho. Girlboss #3 <3

Absolutely, Ganyu looks in from time to time when she takes breaks from work. She doesnt know much about memes or that stuff but she likes her friends :) Very polite and helpful so if you need help shes a good person to go to. Also yes let her talk about glaze lillies and flowers pls <3

Keqing is similar to Ganyu definitely. Works hard and occasionally says hi. Her getting embarassed about typos is so cute <3 Another person who would be great to go to if you need advice. She might be a little protective of the reader. Only a bit. Just because Reader is special to her :)

Ningguang is like... watching ... Shes amused by the liveliness of chat but doesnt join in often. Shes busy but somehow always present at the best times. Shes nice, although a bit distant. All of that flies out the window when Beidou comes on. The two had hour long arguments with just everyone watching and enjoying the roasting session.

Beidou <3 <3 The other one who unironically calls herself (pirate) MILF <3 YES OMG Queen of sea shanties!! She and Venti get along so well. Being drunk and writing song lyrics in chat. She helps Reader get comfortable in chat tho. She can tell if they get uncomfortable and quickly changes the subject. Bless her Heart <3 also Beidou is buff send tweet-

Sometimes people have no idea what Kazuha is saying at all (except Beidou and maybe Zhongli). But whatever he says sounds beautiful :) He sometimes shares his haikus in chat (but alas many can't appreciate them properly) but if Reader does he will be all smiley :))) even if they don't fully understand the poems. Just a "oh thats beautiful Kazuha :)" will make him so happy. Listen. Kazuha sitting out in the sun listening to "Hello/How are you" or "Eazy dance" by Miku and "cowardly Montblanc" by gumi. Thats the vibe i'm picturing here. So good.

Listen Xinyan has the best music taste (yes i am biased i love dark vocaloid songs). Her blasting "suck it Up" by maretu or "Nakakapagpabagabag" by dasu through headphones!!!

And imagine Xinyan shows Barbara "luvatoryyyyyy" and shes vibing!!! Eventhough the lyrics are a little spicy but she doesnt know!!! But i think she really enjoys DECO*27 Songs!!!

The kids are added in a 'family friendly' chat... Thats being heavily moderated by the responsible adults. Jean has to scream 'language!' at least 5 times per chat.

Childe: Fuck man

Jean: Language!

Klee: Fuck!!!!

Qiqi: fuck?

Bdhdhdhdh Childe has Not been heard from since then. Rip.

Lmaooo Klee stealing Bedos phone tho😭😭😭 Chaos in person but shes Readers cute little sister so she gets away with many things!!! The Kids LOVE baby shark and kid songs Like that. You can feel the adults groaning on the other side of the phone because they are playing baby shark for the 20th time that day 😭😭 but Klee and Razor talking in emojis 🥺🥺🥺 '💥❤️🐺' or smth dbdbbffh. And when she draws Albedo, Reader and herself holding hands with many hearts around and saying 'look!!! I drew big sibling Reader and big bro!!!' its just... The cutest thing. It gets Albedo so flustered <3

Qiqi is a lurker for sure. She can't talk well and it's hard to keep up in chat. But she likes talking to the other little girls and Reader :) and of course her big Brother Xiao :)) shes happy when they listen to her because she knows shes a little slow :(( such a sweet girl. She always wants to meet up and get milkshakes with everyone :((((

Lmfao Sayu is me as well🗿 omg yes sayu loves Sonic <3 She wants to be just as active and helpful when she has grown <3 She loves sleepily watching cartoons with her friends and Reader. She likes it when they play with her hair. Of course she always wears her cute jacket with tail and ears :) i imagine she calls Thoma big Bro and Ayaka big sis just because they chat with her a lot more than others :) Sayu asking them to measure her height every day 🥺

Oh gosh yes Diona hates the drunks so much and also hates diluc cuz of the winery. (She doesnt actually hate them shes just worried :( ) She doesnt chat much but she, reader and Xiao exchange cat pics they find!! Shes definitely the one who tries hard with grammar because!!! Shes already a big Girl!!! She doesnt say it outright but thats the vibe she is giving.

Ahhhh this took so long my gosh. I love this tho 🥺💜

#please excuse any typos this is so much text i dont wanna check again dhdhdhd #also what name would you like me to use to refer to you?? #genshin impact #genshin Impact x reader #ask #centuriantalevevo #genshin otome au #the crow caws into the void #murder of crows💜

[kerikaaria]

If I Never Met You: Chapter 32

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Fluff, some angst

WC: 2.2k

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist

Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33

“Y/n noona, your phone is going off again,” Jungkook called from across the room.

“Is someone calling me?” you asked, too occupied at the moment to be able to check yourself.

“No, it looks like text messages,” Jungkook replied. “From your English-speaking friends.”

“I guarantee you that’s Jackson spamming me then,” you said, shaking your head.

“Wouldn’t doubt it,” Namjoon chimed in. “He was just texting me, telling me how he watched the showcase and how cool we are and stuff.”

You finished helping the other staff and walked over to Jungkook, who handed you your phone. You checked your messages while you had a moment to spare.

Jackson: (Y/n) (Y/n)! (Y/NNNNN)!!!! YO NOONA ANSWER ME 😡

Eric: Omg Jackson, I’m pretty sure she’s kinda busy 🙄

Jackson: They’re done with the show though, Namjoon even texted me!

Amber: Dude, that doesn’t mean you should spam the chat 🤣

Jackson: BUT BTS WAS SO AWESOME 😎 (Y/N) THEY WERE AMAZING! NOONAAAAAAAAAAA

Me: OMG I told you not to call me that. But yes, I’m fully aware that they’re awesome and cool and amazing.

Jackson: But you are my noona though

Me: We talk in English. It’s weird! 🤨

Peniel: Noona, why are you being so mean?

Me: Omg not you too… Eric, why did you introduce me to these bozos?

Eric: Hey, last I checked you liked these so-called bozos.

Kevin: Just admit you love us, (Y/n) 🥰

Me: You? Yes. Amber? Definitely. Eric? Sometimes. Jackson and Peniel? Debatable.

Amber: Awwww, I love you too! ❤😘

Kevin: (Y/n)’s Favorites Club application: accepted! 😇

Peniel: I give you my love and this what I get in return? I am offended. 😭

Eric: SOMETIMES?! 😤 Excuse you, who was it who brought you these amazing friends? And if my memory serves me correctly, you couldn’t stop gushing about how much you love my music when we met. 

You shook your head, putting your phone away to focus on getting everyone ready to leave. Going to turn around, you got startled at Jungkook standing extremely close to you.

“I wish I understood English so I could tell what you were talking about,” he said.

“Why do you want to know about my private conversations?” you asked as you started gathering your things.

“Because,” the maknae replied, shrugging.

You shot him an unamused look. “’Because’ isn’t an answer. Stop being nosy,” you added teasingly.

Everyone finished getting everything packed up and ready to go and piled into the van, Sejin driving today.

Checking the group chat again once you were all settled in, you weren’t surprised to see that the conversation kept going on for quite a while. You scrolled through to read until the most recent messages.

Kevin: I watched the showcase, too. They really were awesome! Man, I can’t believe I’m going to be missing them on ASC again. 😔

Eric: Sucks to be you~ 😝

Peniel: Okay, but when am I going to get to meet them?

Jackson: Aren’t Sungjae and V buddies? You could ask him for help.

Peniel: Nah, dude. The kid keeps his friends from us as if we’d hurt them or something.

Me: I mean, I’m not entirely sure you WON’T. I know if I was him, I’d be scared of Changsub or Eunkwang embarrassing me to death in front of my friends.

Peniel: I mean… You’re not wrong. Those hyungs are… 🤔 interesting. 

Amber: I think we gotta meet (Y/n) first! We still haven’t been able to meet up!

Me: Sorry, can’t help that we’ve been so busy ☹ We had a lot to prepare for their comeback when we got back to Korea.

Kevin: It’s okay, we understand!

Eric: Yeah. Didn’t you say something about some people quitting and you and the other manager needing to pick up some of the work they did?

Me: Ugh. Don’t remind me… The company has few enough employees as it is, that really did a number on us. Especially after us hardly being in the country for two months.

Jackson: Dude, that’s tough. But I know you can do it, noona! 🤩

Peniel: Noona, fighting! 🤗

Me: OMG STOP WITH THE NOONA THING.

You sat in your desk chair, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of you. You already finished everything you needed to handle today while Sejin and the boys were at a small fan meet. To be honest, you had finished an hour ago but had nothing else to do and so you just sat there, doing practically nothing.

I really need a life, you thought, realizing how bored you were without work to do or the boys around. You opened your phone, looking at the text you sent to the group chat with your other friends, but they must all be busy because no one had replied yet.

Turning to social media, you opened twitter to take a look at what the shipping fans had come up with for you today. You may get on Jin’s case about looking this stuff up, but to be honest you found it quite amusing yourself – which was also a big reason why he kept teasing you about it. He knew you didn’t actually hate it.

Looking through, you saw fans recently examined a still of Hobi with you in it from a Bangtan Bomb, and then a picture of me standing next to Namjoon when you were heading to a schedule.

But it looked like today, the popular ship was with him. You’d been trying to chalk things up to just the fact that you felt at ease with him. You’d been conveniently ignoring the times your heart skipped a beat when he looked at you with his smile, the times you felt heat rush to your cheeks when he hugged you without even thinking about it. But looking at this picture, it was one of those moments when you couldn’t find it in yourself to ignore what those things really meant.

A fan somehow managed to catch a very clear picture of the two of you, smiling at each other and looking really happy (no wonder why it was the popular opinion today). For a little bit, just a few moments, you let yourself believe that what these fans were saying could actually be true. That it wasn’t hopeless for you to have these strong feelings, that maybe it wasn’t impossible for him to feel these things too.

You shook your head to rid yourself of the thoughts quickly. There were so many things wrong with it. He wasn’t just someone you knew or your friend, he was your coworker. And he was an “idol.” It didn’t matter if Bang PD didn’t have anything against them having relationships, or even relationships between his employees, because you were on two completely different levels. It just cold never happen.

Pulling your head out of the daydream, you felt myself feeling sad looking at the picture now. It represented things you could only dream of. Yet, you still couldn’t stop yourself from saving the picture to your phone.

You just barely locked your screen when the door to the office opened and Sejin walked in with Jungkook. “Oh, you guys are back?” you asked.

“Yup, everything went well,” Sejin answered. “How about here? Anything I need to help with?

“Nope, I got everything done,” you replied. “Where are the other boys?”

“The hyungs are all at home,” Jungkook said. “I missed a vocal lesson earlier this week so I am going to that now.”

“Oh, okay. Are you going home after?” you asked.

“Yeah, I don’t have anything else to do other than that,” he said.

“Alright, I’ll wait for you so we can go home together,” you smiled.

“Oh wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you got everything done,” Sejin said. He had been double checking through everything that needed scheduled or checked through to make sure you hadn’t missed anything while you and Jungkook talked. “Thank you, I know the workload has been a bit intense lately.”

“It’s no problem,” you waved him off. “Now that we have the majority of their schedules in place for this comeback it’s not as bad as it was at first.” You stood up and walked over to Jungkook. “I’ll walk with you to your lesson. I could use a change of scenery. See you, oppa!”

After Jungkook’s vocal lesson, you walked out of the company together, both of you wearing masks. After the debacle with your personal pictures with the boys being shared with the fans, you were almost just as recognized by the fans as they were.

While you definitely weren’t treated the same (as in fans squealing and wanting attention from you), you still had to be careful when you were around them. He may be difficult to recognize with a mask, but if a fan recognized you they would most likely assume that the person you were with was one of the boys, and that was exactly what you didn’t want.

“Can we stop by the park before going home today,” Jungkook asked as you walked down the street. “I could use the fresh air and alone time.”

“Yeah, that’s no problem. It’ll be nice after being inside all day,” you replied. “But if you want alone time I could just go home.”

“No, you can stay,” he assured me. “I meant quiet time more than alone.”

“Alright, sounds good,” you said as you approached the nearby park. You walked in silence until Jungkook found a spot he liked and veered off the path to sit down in the grass.

This park was rather small, just a small nature reprieve among the city streets. It was simple with mostly trees and one little flower garden, but it was plenty when you needed to relax a bit.

The two of you sat, just listening to the leaves rustling in the wind for a while. It was Jungkook who broke the silence first.

“Noona?” he asked, almost in a whisper as if he was worried about bursting the bubble created around us.

“Yes, Kookie?” you asked just as quietly.

“Are you still happy you decided to stay working with us?” He stared at his hands sitting in his lap.

“What do you mean?” you tried to look at his face, hoping he’d look up and meet your gaze. “Why are you asking that?”

“It’s just,” he paused, sighing and laying down on the grass to look at the tree branches instead. “People can be really unfair, you know? You had all that trouble with Haewon last year, and now there are fans that are really harsh on you too.”

You knew the hate comments toward you existed, but generally they were far and few between and really easy to ignore so you paid them no mind. You were more concerned about hate directed toward the boys than yourself. “What’s bringing this on, Kookie? Did something happen?”

“I’m glad you weren’t at the meet today. It was really hard to hold back with some of the stuff we heard.”

You leaned back on your elbow to get a little closer to him before saying, “I thought Sejin said the meet went well?”

“It did, for the most part. We ignored the comments and made sure not to make a scene out of anything so it technically went fine. But noona, these fans didn’t know who was with us today. What if you were? It just… it wasn’t right, what they said.”

“Kookie, don’t let it get to you. Some of your fans just genuinely don’t like me, but that’s okay. Others may be jealous because they wish they could be as close to you as I am. And some of them take out that jealousy in anger. That’s okay, too. I don’t let it bother me and you shouldn’t pay any mind to it either, okay? And to answer your first question, yes. I’m still happy. I don’t regret anything I’ve done, especially when it comes to you guys.”

“Really? You’re really okay with all of that?”

“Yes. If that’s the price I need to pay in order to have you all in my life? That is more than worth it.” You lay down next to him, staring up at the same trees. “To be honest, I sometimes wonder where I would be, what I’d be doing if I hadn’t stayed. Or even if I didn’t apply for the job in the first place, if I hadn’t been lucky enough to meet Jin or maybe if I never came to Korea. There’s no way for me to know, but I can’t imagine that I’d be as happy as I am now. You guys mean the world to me and I feel so, so lucky to be able to call myself your friend.”

You turned to look at him, finding his gaze had already fallen on you. While his mask covered most of his face, you could tell from his eyes that he was smiling, and you smiled in return. “All I know is, I have no idea where I would be if I never met you guys, and I don’t want to know. If I were given the choice again, I would always pick to be here with you. Always.”

Series Masterlist

Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33

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