#green bear spam

[undead-dreams-of-overmorrow]

The Cooking Mama DS games but with Senshi. Do you see my vision?

#green bear spam #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi

[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?

support/warning banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 💘

Follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications

#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

[queerandcartoons]

i took as many screenshots of the doors in The Amazing Digital Circus's "bedroom" hallway

i'm getting really into The Amazing Digital Circus, and noticed the doors when Pomni, Ragatha, and Jax went to go meet Kaufmo.

before we begin, which i'll put below the cut, please excuse me bad screenshots. Spoilers below, obviously!

We have the recognizable characters-

Ragatha, Jax, Gangle, Kinger, Pomni, and Zooble.

We then have Kaufmo-

I'm separating him cause a) the above section has six, and six is an even number and b) he'll soon have an X on his face, most likely next time we see him.

Speaking of X's on the face- there are a LOT of characters with X's crossed over their faces.

Notably, we have Queener, the only named character (that i know of) that is off-screen "abstracted" and therefore placed in the cellar-

Now here is my X-ed out character door spam and shitty screenshot collection, arranged from most "clear" to least "clear", which is dictated by camera angle and by screen quality-

We have- 1) Yellow sad clown with (bunny?) long ears and blue collar. 2) a orange/yellow and green Squrimle (worm on a string) 3) a yellow/orange dog 4) a purple creature, maybe with one eye? 5) a pastel blue/green sock puppet with a pink/purple stripe, blue inner ears, and a red flower (gives me the same vibes as the mouse from Bear in the Big Blue House, or maybe something else I remember watching on playhouse disney...but that's just me idk) 6) purple dragon/dinosaur with colorful scales

Here we have 1) blue 2) ???? with yellow/pink mixed in 3) ????? i genuinely don't know but it seems to be white, blending in with the background 4) colorful jester? and 5) yellow

Other doors have this on it-

This is one of those wooden dolls used as sn art reference figurine, and there are many of them. At first, I thought they were placeholders for newcomers, and this image would be replaced with the image of a character once they join the circus, but no. Later in the episode, Caine and Bubble are in a fancy restaurant dining area, and these dolls act as filler around them, "eating" at the restaurant as other patrons.

My only question is, what are these things? My best guess are the NPCs Jax mentioned at the beginning of the pilot, but to be completely honest, NPCs usually aren't given rooms alongside the main characters. We also see them around, simply existing. First when Pomni is searching for Caine and sees one in a bathtub, and second, when Caine and Bubbles are in a nice restaurant, with the wooden dolls serving as other patrons

#idkwhatbutimposting #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc theory #tadc pomni #tadc caine #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #tadc kinger #tadc zooble #tadc gangle #tadc queener #tadc kaufmo

[tryingtodotheright-thing]

Hello Sunset - 7

AN: This chapter was hard to write for some reason. I'm still trying to get back in to the groove of writing so please bear with me things don't flow. Let me know which parts you enjoyed. Also, when I started planning this, I'd already weaved in that S.Coups enlisted as a public service officer so I won't go back and change things.

PAIRING: Seungcheol x fem!reader GENRE: exes to lovers, idol verse, angst WORD COUNT: 4,340 WARNINGS: reader has anxiety and depression, swearing, mentions of alcohol Text in blue is spoken/written in Korean.

Previous / Next

6 February 2024

Y/N reflected on the past week as she got ready for her date. The Sunday morning after their dinner, Joshua had added Y/N to a group chat with the other 95 liners and spammed the chat immediately with the pictures they had taken, mostly the goofy ones he had taken of Y/N before Jeonghan and S.Coups had joined. Y/N in response had sent through memes of Joshua. Jeonghan had then joined in, sending in unflattering pictures of Joshua that Y/N immediately saved for future use. She wasn’t that mature to not seek revenge.The ragging had teetered off eventually. They’d checked in on how everyone was handling their hangovers. Jeonghan had asked her what she was doing and she’d sent them a picture of her half-packed suitcase. Joshua, staying in character as the annoying brother, had nagged her to get it done and not procrastinate. She had sent him an eye rolling emoji in response. At one point, S.Coups had sent a message asking after her itinerary. She had confirmed the dates she’d be at each city and told the trio to send her a list of anything they wanted her to bring back. She’d gone back to packing as she chatted with Eun Ji, who had come over that morning with coffee and breakfast. 

Her phone pinged to let her know there was a new notification. Swiping the screen, she saw that she’d gotten a text from S.Coups that read ‘I’ll be there in 10 minutes’. She was still trying to come to terms with what was happening. Barring that short moment in the car, he hadn’t really given her a sign to say he was into her and she hadn’t wanted to read into something that wasn’t there. After all, they didn’t really know each other. But then, she got the text from him on Thursday evening. He’d sent it to her directly instead of the group chat.

S.Coups  Thursday 1 February Did you make it safely to Sapporo? 19:38

Y/N hadn’t expected him to remember, let alone check in on her.

Hey! Yes, I just got to the hotel actually. 19:45

Keep warm. It’s cold right now. 19:46

I will! Thank you for checking in 🙂 19:46

She’d thought that would be the natural end of their conversation but it wasn’t. 

Keep your Tuesday evening free.  I’ll show you around Sapporo.  20:16 If you want to. 20:17

Y/N didn’t reply immediately that night. She had needed to run this whole situation past Joshua first before she did anything. He was her friend first and he needed to feel comfortable with whatever was going on. She’d sent Joshua a screenshot of the message and then put the whole thing out of her mind. She had work the next day and that had been her priority. Fast forward to now, Joshua had given her the green light, saying he’d seen it coming and she’d been texting him all her nervous misgivings last night as she fretted over the ‘date’. Did he even see it as a date? She didn’t know. She knew nothing except the ever present flutters that right now made her want to throw up her lunch. 

Y/N wrapped the warming scarf around herself, gave herself a glance over before leaving her hotel room to wait in the hotel lobby. She’d suggested meeting him at the venue but he’d disagreed, saying it’s better to go together. They were heading to Odari Park to take in this year’s Snow Festival the city was famous for. The festival had been recommended to her by Makoto-san, the general manager for the Japan office, when she’d met him last Friday. It was pure coincidence and luck that her visit crossed over with the festival. Y/N was heading to Okinawa tomorrow with some colleagues to assess the operations there so she didn’t think she’d have time to go. As if he’d read her thoughts, S.Coups had asked if she’d like to go to the snow festival. Her anticipation for the evening was sky high though she tried to remind herself to consider it just a normal outing between friends. 

S.Coups was cloaked in mystery and his winter accessories, the mask, scarf and beanie hiding most of his features. He was dressed mostly in black, similar to the last time Y/N saw him. He was the picture of calm, hands casually resting in the pockets of the baggy padded jacket he wore and humming an unheard melody. He looked up at the sound of Y/N’s boots. A smile quickly covered his face though Y/N could only tell by the squinting of his eyes since the rest of his face was covered. Soon, Y/N stood in front of him, only a step away from fully invading his personal space. He looked so warm and comfortable that Y/N wanted to wrap her arms around his waist tightly. She instead gave him a quick bow with her head in greeting. He responded in kind before suggesting they head out. 

They stayed close yet far enough as they walked to the car, so that it wouldn’t take much for them to separate and pretend they were strangers. Y/N noticed the deliberate act and it reminded her yet again how different their worlds were. Yes, she was getting traction and much quicker than anyone had anticipated, but she never had to consider any of this. She maintained her privacy and her presence in the media was little. Maybe that would change in the future, but for now, no one cared too much about Y/N the person and what she was getting up to in her personal life.

It would have been quicker to take public transport but with Seungcheol (as he’d asked to be called) being who he was, it was prudent they avoided being out in public together if possible. The driver and the guard remained respectful of their privacy and listened to the radio on low volume as the pair in the passenger seats spoke. She broke the silence first, asking about his vacation and how he’d ended up in Sapporo. He explained that it was a reward for working hard during rehab and a much needed break before he picked up the pace once the holidays were over. The conversation flowed easily once the metaphorical ice broke. He told Y/N about this spontaneous trip with some friends to Sapporo for the holidays, how he’d wanted to enjoy the downtime before rehab intensified and he began to prepare to return to the public eye from his hiatus. He asked about the progress of her trip, being attentive and listening patiently as she lost herself in recounting stories from the past week. He asked questions that showed he was interested and it made Y/N feel shy. She was used to being listened to and respected in the office, but it was different getting it from Seungcheol. Y/N knew it spoke volumes how she sometimes allowed herself to be treated in her personal life, specifically her parents. She didn’t feel the need to hide away and turn the attention away from herself as was her norm. It was all because she felt his genuine interest. Y/N was really starting to admire Seuncheol the man as much as she admired S.Coups the artist. 

Odari Park was busy and they huddled close as they admired each sculpture. There were so many ice sculptures and it was fascinating that people could so precisely recreate anything from a castle to your favourite anime character in ice. Seunghceol enjoyed being able to move around so freely in a crowd. He enjoyed it even more with Y/N. She looked at everything with awe and was excitable in her as she took in each piece of art. He found it so endearing and couldn’t help but to smile at her cute mannerisms. She would get caught up in her excitement and forget to maintain the calm persona she’d planned to present that evening. Y/N found herself forgetting that she was just getting to know Seungcheol as it was too comfortable to spend her time walking around with him sharing their thoughts on what they observed. Whenever she would get too excited and get close to him to say something, he would smile at her softly and when she would get shy upon realising, he would tap her hands, like he did back in December, to get her attention and reassure her it’s okay by carrying on whatever conversation they were having. 

Though they took breaks, it was difficult to find a place where they can properly rest. Y/N became worried about the cold and Seungcheol walking around for too long that it starts to hurt him. Anticipating that he would say he was fine, Y/N instead asked Seungcheol if he was hungry as she was ready to eat. With that, they found themselves in an Udon restaurant not that long after. The pair sipped on a tea to warm up their bodies as they waited for their food to arrive. They compared pictures they took of the sculptures and of each other. They both debated on who had the best ones, sending each other pictures the other didn’t have. Seungcheol had also taken pictures on a camera, and he said he would upload those on Weverse but the ones he took on his phone was just for the two of them.

As they finished looking through their memories of the evening, Seungcheol lamented that they forgot to take a picture together. The guard, who’d kept them company from a distance for the evening, offered to take one. Seungcheol immediately moved to sit beside Y/N for a photo. He took his mask off and with no inhibitions, flashed a gummy smile at her before turning to the camera. Y/N immediately melted, not that she was upset or irritated, but with that one smile, he could get her to do anything. Once the picture was taken, he didn’t return to his seat. He remained beside her and this new arrangement meant that he’d lean in close and turn his head whenever Seungcheol had something to say to her or vice versa. Each time, Y/N thought her heart skipped a beat. Choi Seungcheol was not good for her health. 

He reluctantly returned to his original position when their food was served. The next hour flew by without either of them being aware. She made him laugh and he made her blush. They talked about Joshua. And the band. He told her about their antics but also the love they held for each other. In response, she shared her admiration of his role in the group, how he guarded and guided the members. Then, it was his turn to blush. He tried to brush off the compliments but she would repeat them till he accepted them. He thanked her and would smile sheepishly and look away from her sincere eyes. Seungcheol also returned the compliments, saying he’s been listening religiously to not just her album but all the short covers she’s been posting on YouTube again. There was a lot the two shared in common in terms of their careers as musicians but also in the concerns they had for their future. Y/N felt lighter as she talked about her worries and she hoped she’d equally helped taken some weight off his shoulders. 

It was still a week day and Y/N was travelling to Okinawa the next morning so they had no choice but to wind up their evening once they’d ravished their meal. Seungcheol asked about about her plans as he walked her back to the hotel lifts from the parked car. She confirmed that she'd be back in Seoul on Sunday. Y/N hesitated once they came to a stop in front of the metal box that would carry her to her room. Neither pressed the button, knowing it would bring a bittersweet goodbye. The cough behind Seungcheol from his guard was a gentle reminder to get a move on when they remained loitering. 

“Thank you for this evening and for the meal. You really should have let me pay.”

He scoffed at that.

“It was a really lovely evening. I’m happy I can call you a …” She hesitates on the word. “... a friend.”

He responds saying Y/N is easy to speak to and he’s sure she’d be a great friend. Like a balloon, she felt the air in her drop as her shoulders drooped.

“Maybe I didn’t make things clear and that’s really my fault.” She wanted the ground below her to swallow her up.

“I think you’re a great person and obviously a really good friend to Shua.” Y/N wished she could magically vanish.

“I’d really like to get to know you more … not as a friend but with the purpose of dating.” Pin drop silence. Y/N was sure she’d misheard. 

Seuncheol looked slightly nervous as he continued. 

“I’d like to take you out again when you’re back in Seoul.” Not getting a response, he rushed to say, “Think about it. I don’t need an answer now.” 

The flutters were back. She couldn’t meet his eyes but Y/N bashfully nodded in agreement. 

“Well. Uhm. I’ll get going. Good night and safe travels tomorrow.” Another meek nod. 

“Y/N-yah?” The honourifics had been dropped. He waits for her to look at him. His eyes were so hopeful but his twisting hands showed the apprehension. “Will you text me when you land on the 11th?”

She nods more obviously this time and that repeats the confirmation verbally. There was a spring in his step as he walked back to the car. Y/N dropped on her bed and squealed into her pillows as soon as she arrived in her room. Forget packing, she needed to unpack her evening with her friends first. It called for a group call between Eun Ji, Rachel and Y/N. The deconstruction of the evening went on for a couple of hours, part way through which, Y/N got up from the bed to multi-task, packing her suitcase and getting ready for bed. At the end of the call, Rachel had asked if she knew what her response was. The smile that blossomed onto Y/N’s face was enough of an answer.

Y/N and Seungcheol text over the next few days, sending each other updates mainly through pictures of the places they were spending their day at and of their meals. When Sunday evening arrived, as if he’d been tracking her movements, Seungcheol calls to make sure she made it back safely just as she walked through the doors of her flat. The pair end up talking on the phone till late, bringing each other up to speed on what the pictures didn’t say. Hearing the sleep in Y/N’s voice, Seungcheol knew the call had to end soon so he nervously asked her, just before they wished each other sweet dreams, if she had an answer for him. Y/N says that she’s planning the next date. 

From then, the frequency of their interactions per day increases. Alongside the pictures, they now text regularly through the day, each notification was a source of dopamine and they lulled each other to sleep most days. Depending on the time of the day, the messages moved between a spectrum of cute and flirtatious to teasing and flirtatious.  Seungcheol was more direct in his messages and Y/N was more honest and verbal about her feelings. They’re both busy, Y/N particularly so they struggle to agree a time for their next outing. It only made the flames burn brighter as they longed to meet in person again soon so they can pick up where they left things.

It was the day before Valentine’s Day or CARAT Day as it was for Y/N and Seungcheol. Y/N had a bad day at work and Seungcheol senses this through the delayed response and lack of pictures, particularly of her meals. Y/N was moping, wrapped in her blankets in bed, tossing and turning and huffing in frustration. She’d dealt with difficult stakeholders before; it was part and parcel of her job in the corporate world. However, it was her first time dealing with it so overtly and directly, where the person didn’t even bother to hide why they were being so rude and resistant to Y/N’s attempts to mediate. For a minute, she’d forgotten that in South Korea, the culture meant that her social status was different. It wasn’t to say that she didn’t experience racism or harassment growing up in London. She definitely did. The difference was that it was subtle. The racism was instutionalised and exhibited through unconscious biases and remarks that were then excused as ignorant due to not knowing better. This was different and it really hurt. Y/N was agitated and wanted to shout, scream, break a plate (maybe on that person’s head) but instead continued to mope. The sound of her phone broke her out of her thoughts.  

Seeing that it was Seungcheol calling, she answered, knowing she owed him that after sending him short responses all day. 

“XXXX by the Han River in 30 minutes okay? Go go go!” That’s all he said before he ended the call. 

An hour later, Y/N found herself almost jogging on the spot to keep warm as she waited for her bungeoppang to be made whilst Seungcheol joked with the stall vendor. He’d claimed this is the best bungeoppang in Seoul and that Y/N had to taste it or she was missing out in life. He’d been joking around since they’d met up and to Y/N it was obvious that all of this was a generous attempt to cheer her up. The piping hot snack was collected and the pair continued their walk along the riverside. They weren’t alone. There were still many people out and about despite the late hour and it seemed Han River was a popular dating spot. As a big group passed the pair, Seunghceol grasped her hand to move her closer to him. He went to let go of her hand but then intertwined their fingers into a stronger grip. His strong hold was thrilling and it gave Y/N a comfort she didn’t know she needed. It was as if something was different and the day had turned in itself to be a happy one. 

“Here, it’s cooled down a bit.” Seungcheol handed over the fish-shaped snack. She thanked him and took it, their fingers brushing off each others. She let out a happy hum as she took a bite. 

“It’s so good, Seungcheol!”

“Let me know whenever you’re craving it, I’ll buy you some.”

Y/N grinned at him and nodded. She swung their hands as they caught up on their day. He listened to her complaints with sympathy and was angry on her behalf. She was grateful that he listened and that he didn’t offer advice immediately but asked what she needed. Y/N knew that she was falling for him and deeply too. Seungcheol was very quickly becoming her favourite person. He was shaking her world and taking it to a new direction she’d never planned for. She was no longer resistant to it and instead welcomed it with her arms wide open. If this is who she gained, then she’ll cross her fingers and hope that he’ll always come to her. Everything else can be dealt with. As Seungcheol embraced Y/N to comfort her, Y/N made up her mind. She tightened her arms around his middle and buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in the scent that hypnotised her. 

“Cheol?” She spoke into his neck. He shivered as her breath brushed his skin. 

He murmured to say he’s listening.

“Can I kiss you?”

His arms relaxed for a second before he gripped her hips again.

“On one condition.” Y/N slightly pulled back to look at his face in confusion.

“Only if today’s officially our first day as a couple. I don’t kiss just anyone, you know?”

She huffed at his teasing and tried to push him away. He chuckled at her sulking and pulled her closer again till they were tightly aligned. He dipped his head down and paused a hair’s breadth from their lips touching. It was as if he was looking for some sort of answer. He caressed her face with his eyes before giving a nod, satisfied what he found. His eyelashes brushed against her cheek as he closed the final distance. Their lips brushed softly. Once then twice. His hands moved for one to hold her neck and the other her right cheek. He leaned in even closer, tilting his face to the left slightly as each kiss lasted slightly longer than the one before. His kisses were sweet, almost chaste and left her wishing for more. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair and grip him closer but his beanie and her gloved hands stopped her. 

They were still outside in public and it must have dawned on Seungcheol as he pulled away after a few minutes. He looked down at her, his smile was radiant and Y/N wished she could look at it everyday. They stayed wrapped up around each other as they waited for their breathing to regulate. Y/N reluctantly unlocked the arms around him as he did the same. They stepped away from each other till they were a respectful distance. He laughed at her bashful smile and she pouted as she looped her arm through his so they can walk back to the main road. Y/N took a taxi back to her flat whilst Seungcheol was picked up his guard. Y/N thought 13 February 2024 was the best day of her twenties.

They talked everyday and made sure to see each other at least twice a week. Sometimes they would go for a late night walk like they did on their first date. Other time, he would spoil her and take her out. Most of the time, their dates were mellow, which suited both of their needs. Seungcheol became a regular visitor to Y/N’s flat. She would cook their dinner and he would clean up. Then, they would end up cuddling on the sofa, watching the TV or playing games. The weeks flew by with both of them occupied by their work and personal lives. 

Y/N was packing again to fly back to London for a few days. This time, he was there in person instead of texting her to ask about her preparations. Everytime Y/N would put something in her suitcase, Seungcheol would take it out. He whined about her leaving him and that he won’t even get to speak to her properly because of the time difference and distance. Each time he complained, she would drop reassure his with a pat or a kiss and promise that the time would flyby. It was just a couple of days, she would say. It did flyby and Y/N was back in Seoul on the 6 March, after making a pit stop in Paris for the Stella McCartney show at Paris Fashion Week. Seungcheol was waiting inside her flat when she arrived and hugged her tightly as soon as she crossed the threshold. 

He had organised a dinner with the 95 liners to celebrate her wins at the BRIT Awards. He promised that the devil twins would tire her out and it would help her get back on the correct timezone quickly. She immediately made a note to tell Joshua and Jeonghan what Seungcheol had called the duo so they would bully him and not her that night. A quiet gathering ended up boisterous and she wasn’t even surprised considering whom she was meeting up with. They all drank to their hearts’ content and some more than that. Some of the boys who were back in the dorms heard and crashed the gathering and it gave Y/N a chance to get to know them better. Cheol had dropped her off back at her flat and gone back to his shared place with his brother. He had a busy morning so she wasn’t expecting to hear from him till the evening. She’d planned to sleep in the next morning but her dream was interrupted by a call she received from one Director Shim Jae Hyun. He introduced himself as the main manager for SEVENTEEN. 

“I understand you’re currently dating S.Coups. I would like to meet with you to go through some details. Please meet me at HYBE offices at 2pm today.”

Current - 31 August 2025

It had been over a week since the Dispatch article had caused a media frenzy and Sian had released the statement on her behalf. Y/N had just finished filming for Good Morning America and wrapped up all of the last minute NYC promotions that had been scheduled as damage control over the last few days. She had a flight back to London that evening and would be back in the studio the next day as she still had tracks to finalise for her album. Sian had asked her to announce the release date during her interviews so she was committed to meeting the tight deadline. Before all of that though, she had a Zoom meeting to attend with Director Shim Jae Hyun, a few other executives from PLEDIS and HYBE as well as Sian, Emma and W Music's Chief Legal Officer, Martin Williams. Y/N connected to the call and was shocked to see who else was part of the call. She hadn’t expected him to join but she was surprised to see Joshua on the call. 

“Y/N, you’ve been avoiding me.”

Guess she was in trouble.

#caratsland #seventeen #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt #s.coups #scoups #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #s.coups x reader #s.coups fluff #my writing #hello sunset

[forgottencillian]

The Ancient Arms of Ormond

in which i headcanon spam at you once again -- lmk what you think!!

Fox: defensive wisdom, ingenuity, wit; intelligence, refusal to be captured

White hart: the continual pursuit of life/good, purity of desire, worthy rule, peace and harmony, one who will not fight unless provoked, the wonder of magic, the mystery of forests, (with antlers:) strength and fortitude

Stag who bears the sun: life, rebirth, resurrection, hope in life after death; leader; tree of life; visionary; hunt for the sun; power; the irresistable tempt to chase, compellingly attractive; sunset and dawn; lightbringer/lightbearer; sacrifice and transcendence

Crescent/moon: one who has been honored by the sovereign; hope of greater glory; service in holy war; mark of the second son; serene power over mundane actions; serenity

Sun in splendour: glory and splendour, fountain of life

Azure (blue): truth and loyalty

Vert (green): hope, joy, loyalty in love

Tawny or Tenné (orange/brown): worthy ambition

Argent (silver/white): peace and sincerity

Or (gold/yellow): generoristy, elevation of mind

A brief history of the House of Ormond

the last two members of the house of ormond, an ancient and honored house of astaira, perished upon the fields of malconaire

these two were uncle and nephew who, themselves, had a rather tumultuous relationship. the nephew -- who also happened to have been named cillian -- was the son of the late lord eoghan ormond who had died -- apparently choking to death at a feast -- when he was a child of all but five, making eoghan's younger brother, ruairi, the de facto lord until such time as cillian came of age

rumor spread that eoghan's death had not been honest but had, in fact, been a poisoning perpetrated by the ambitious and fearsome eoghan, but how true any of this is cannot with any certainty be said, yet the rumors have persisted and some -- perhaps influenced by a popular astairan legend, or else by the horrid truth -- continued to claim that, even as ruairi brought up his nephew, he continued to plot his downfall

whatever the case, both men are said to have lost their lives at the battle of malconaire -- though a rumor persists that cillian ormond did, in fact, survive the battle, and there are those who even claim to have seen him at such high-profile events as the recent ball in celebration of princess guinevere's feast day, while others claim he was not there at all

indeed, in the last two years, many rather wild tales have surfaced all of which seem to center around the mysterious cillian ormond and his rather tumultuous life, but as many of these actually contradict, it is difficult to parse fact from fiction -- or if he is, indeed, even alive at all

whatever the case of this may be, the ormonds claim a long and storied history

like many ancient clans, house ormond can trace its roots back to multiple noble families which have since evanesced in all but the form of the ormonds whose last vestige are, themselves, in fact a cadet house of the original ormond family, tracing their line back to a second son of the original ormond branch, all of which accounts for the present house's many charges

it is said that, in ancient times, the original ormond was a young hunter living in a part of astaira the gods had, in their wrath, blighted with endless snow. crops would not grow, and the animals they might have hunted, perished. caught in the depths of winter without anything to eat, the people of his village were dying. around midnight one evening, it is told, ormond -- for this was his name -- was awakened by a blazing light. when he looked up, he found that the sun, itself, hung within the antlers of a white hart, beckoned him forward. all night, ormond followed the white hart, but as dawn came on, the creature darted forward away from him, taking the sun with it. as ormond raced forward, he watched the white hart die and the sun rise back into the sky. hungry as he was, ormond could not bear to desecrate the magnificent beast and, instead, buried it with dignity and respect. yet, when he dried his eyes, ormond looked around himself and realized that he had come to a place all of lush green. returning to his village, he led the starving people to the green place and, thus, they survived, and ormond was hailed as their leader, taking the creature who had led him for his badge.

many centuries later, kieran ormond, his father's second son, wed tiarna firceall (herself also a second child, her family having all tragically died of the pox the summer previous), the last firceall, whose badge was the too-clever fox, and whose house was a knighted vassal house to the lords of malconaire. together, the lovers merged their lands, powers, and crests, ruling jointly over land partially belonging to the lords ormond and the lords malconaire

about two hundred years later, the last daughter of the main ormond branch died, unwed, leaving all her titles and powers and possessions to her distant cousins, themselves descended from kieran and tiarna

as a result, the ormonds were in the strange position of being at once equal to the lords of malconaire as well as their vassal lords

because of this, they were undeniably lord malconaire's most powerful bannermen, but there was a great deal of uncertainty as to whether or not they would answer the late lord malconaire's call to banners when he went to fight the varmonts at the battle of malconaire (particularly given the tension between ruairi and cillian), but both lordly claimants to the title of lord of ormond joined forces and rode to their deaths to help save their country (ride of the rohirrim style) and, though the day was lost, whatever the character of the late ruairi ormond may have been, he is and his nephew alike are both viewed with honor by most loyal astairans as, whatever their differences, in the end they put them aise to do what they believed was right

----

hex codes: blue (000033), green (004B57), orange (A35123)

#ooc #about #image #cillian ormond: the anastacia of astaira

[never-took-a-lesson]

❄ FORTE STEALS CHRISTMAS ❄

Forte has captured Santa Claus!  He plans on ruining Christmas for everyone.

This is a fun, light hearted event open to all of my mutuals.

You can choose to have your muse on one of two teams:

Team Forte: Who want to keep Santa captive 

Team Santa: Who want to rescue Father Christmas 

There will be a winning team determined at the end of the event. Please be aware, the winner is determined by the amount of points accumulated by each team, not by gratuitous displays of power. This makes it fair to characters who don’t have godly powers; everyone is on an even playing field. 

There are three ways to get points.

Read about them below…

Round 1: The Tally

Sign Up for a Team Here

By signing a character up for a team, you give points to that team. One point per muse. 

Round 2: Interaction

You can also get points by simply posting in-character pertaining to the event.

Points go to whichever team the character you’re posting is in.  If you’re posting multiple characters in separate teams, both teams get points. 

1 point for posts under 50 words

2 for over 50 words 

There aren’t any tiers over 50 words because I don’t want people to feel like they need to write novels because they do not lol

Please tag me to make sure I count your post. 

Round 3: Battle 

Battle Rules Here

Fight with the minions of Santa or Forte (red for Santa, green for Forte) to get points. 

You can do this by sending in an ask to defeat up to three enemies. Each enemy type has a different dice roll odds of winning.  Specify which enemies you’re attacking in your ask. You can only attack three enemies a day to prevent spamming. 

Odds Out of 10

1 Point - Elf or Rat - roll 1, 3, 5, 7 or 9 to win 2 Points - Polar Bear or Wolf - roll 3, 5 or 9 to win 5 Points- Snow Monster or Dragon - roll 5 to win

#ooc #event: Forte Steals Christmas

[blissful-simp]

Alabama - *Sweet Home Alabama guitar riff*

Alaska - *was already there*

Arizona - “Boy, 95 sure is hot!”

Arkansas -

California - “Cali!”

Colorado - *howls*

Connecticut - “Hey, New Yorkachussetts!”

Delaware - “Is there someone that could help me start a business?”

Florida - “Duval!”

Georgia - “I’m gonna go for a swim in Lake Lanier!”

Hawaii - “Anybody want some SPAM?”

Idaho -

Illinois - Wisconsin: “[technical glitch] the bears!”

Indiana - *Indiana Jones theme song*

Iowa -

Kansas -

Kentucky - “Louis-ville?”

Louisiana - “Who dat? Who dat?”

Maine - “You ever been to Banger, Maine?”

Maryland - “Anyone have any Old Bay?”

Massachussetts - “Is that Matt Damon and Ben Affleck?”

Michigan - “Liberate Michigan!”

Minnesota - “Ugh it’s so cold!”

Mississippi - “Hey land mass!”

Missouri -

Montana - “I wish there was someone here that could talk about how much they hate California and North Dakota!”

Nevada - “Home means Nevada, home means the hills!”

New Hampshire - “Hey, upside-down Vermont!”

New Jersey - “Hey, Tony Soprano!”

New Mexico - Colorado: “Our green chile is better than New Mexico’s”

New York - “Wegmans sucks butt!”

North Carolina - “It’s Bo time!”

North Dakota -

Ohio - “O-H!”

Oklahoma - “Who wants to go to-?”

Oregon - “Hey, Florida, can you call Ore-gone for me?”

Pennsylvania - “We Are!”

Rhode Island - “Hey, Connecti-Chussetts!”

South Carolina - “Does anybody have any mustard barbecue sauce?”

South Dakota - “Who’s the better Dakota again?”

Tennessee - “Good old Rocky Top!”

Texas - “The stars at night are big and bright!”

Utah - “I wish someone were here to tell me about my Lord and saviour Jesus Christ!”

Vermont - “Maple syrup!”

Virginia - “Nor-folk?”

Washington - “Is that Sasquatch?”

West Virginia - “Country roads, take me home!”

Wisconsin - “Anyone need anything from Kwik Trip?”

Wyoming -

! BONUS !

Gov/DC - “I’m about to do something drastic!”

Getting there slowly but surely! 7 to go!

#ben brainard #welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #wttt #wttsh

[s1lly-gh02tz]

Why do you like Spamton 😭 his character is so shit and he’s annoying asf and overrated

Im glad you asked

Spamton, full name Spamton G. Spamton, is a Darkner from the Cyber World. He is initially encountered in Cyber City, where he is fought as a miniboss. He is likely based on spam emails.

If Kris helps him enter the Queen's Mansion's basement (either through the LoadedDisk or freezing Berdly), he transforms into Spamton NEO, which serves as Chapter 2's bonus boss on a normal route and the main antagonist and final boss of the Chapter 2 Snowgrave Route. As a bonus boss, he holds one of the Shadow Crystals.

ADVERTISEMENT

Shop

After his battle, he appears as a shopkeeper in the Trash Zone. His shop is unusual in that his items are not what they appear, and their prices fluctuate rapidly while looking at them. He is also the only shopkeeper that the party cannot sell items to, with the "SELL" option being replaced with "BUYMORE!!" His wares are:

KeyGen for 0-49030 Kromer/D$

S.POISON for 50-150 Kromer/D$ (sold as "S. POTION")

Broken Sword for 50-150 Kromer/D$ (sold as "THE BIG ONE")

Frayed Bowtie for 50-150 Kromer/D$ (sold as "BSHOT BOWTIE")

Profile

Appearance

Spamton appears as a diminutive puppet and ex-Addison that wears yellow and pink glasses that sometimes change colors and a long-sleeved black V-neck shirt, with black hair that is slicked back, appearing similar to a pompadour.

After becoming Spamton NEO, Spamton assumes the form of the machine he inhabits. The body of this form looks like a disheveled Mettaton NEO with a gaudy pink and yellow color scheme, and a laser cannon mounted onto his hand. Countless green wires suspend him in the air. His pink and yellow glass colors swap places. He also grows bat wings, one side being green, lilac, and purple, the other being yellow, pink, and magenta, and has teal-green and grey thumbs.

Swatch mentions that many people have failed to imitate his look, and some people have even gone so far as to impersonate him. Spamton's slick black hair, multicolored glasses, pointy white face and black suit are noticeably similar to Swatch's outfit, and Spamton admits to it during a live Q&A during the Spamton Sweepstakes.[1]

Spamton's design seems to be based on a number of popular depictions of puppets, having the face and style of dress seen on classic ventriloquist dummies with the nose of Pinocchio. This is also hinted at in his Spamton NEO form when he refers to himself as a puppet, and with the song "A Real Boy!"

Spamton has the ability to increase the size of his head. In his NEO form, his head is constantly larger than usual.

Personality

Spamton was once a natural salesman, always willing to cut a deal. While he still bears a shadow of these traits, his deals are now often nonsensical or violent. He claims that he became a salesman not for the money, but for the freedom to make his own deals. However, he still attempts to scam Kris for money (which he refers to as "Kromer") at every opportunity. His speech patterns are similar to typical obfuscated spam email text, with many words replaced with non sequitur variants in square brackets that could imply incorrectly-applied mail merge variables or hyperlinks, or various voice glitches.

In much of his dialogue, he seems mentally confused and insane, seemingly projecting himself onto Kris, contradicting himself, and saying things which make little sense, without warning. This mental instability seems to clear up briefly after fighting him in his NEO form, as he wishes Kris success with their journey without using broken English.

Spamton consistently spells "generosity" as "genorisity," "guarantee" as "guaranttee," and "special" as "specil," with an exception for the latter at the end of the Spamton NEO battle after snapping all the wires.

Main Story

History

Some time before Kris and Susie entered the Cyber World, Spamton existed as an unsuccessful spam email Addison, overlooked by Lightners and never able to catch a break.[2] Despite his lack of success, he always proclaimed to his fellow Addisons that he would be a "big shot" one day.[3]

Desperate, Spamton began to look for any way to become more popular. Eventually, he came into contact via phone with someone who could help him, and suddenly he began to be wildly successful. From that point on, Spamton was "on the phone all the time," being aided by an unknown person.[4] His fellow Addisons became jealous of him for his sudden success, and stopped going out with him.[5] His success landed him his own room at the Queen's Mansion, and he began to brag more and more about his deals, ranging from TV commercials to cars.[6]

Then, as sudden as his success was, it came crashing down. The stranger helping Spamton vanished, and all his sales went with them.[6] Desperate, Spamton started spending all of his time "praying" in the basement, obsessed with an "artifact,"[7] presumed to be the machine he uses to become NEO. The machine was created by an unknown Lightner with the help of Swatch, digitally visualizing their hopes and dreams. However, those dreams never came to be, and the machine was abandoned in the basement with the rest of the corrupted data.[8]

With nothing left, Spamton was to be evicted from the Queen's mansion. The day of his eviction, one of the Addisons went to visit Spamton, but found he had already left. Spamton had left his phone hanging off the handle. Spamton presumably left in the middle of a conversation, as the Addison could hear someone on the other end, but after putting the phone to their ear it only made "garbage noise."[9] Likewise, Kris's Cell Phone only makes garbage noise when used in the Dark World.

Abandoned by all of his friends, Spamton was reduced to living in a dumpster in a Cyber City alleyway.[10] Despite his fall from grace, the Color Cafe in Queen's Mansion continued to sell his trademark bowtie, albeit with the brand name cut off.

At some point, someone (presumed to be Spamton) attempted to impersonate Swatch by mimicking his monochrome suit and colored glasses, in order to obtain something (presumed to be the NEO machine).[11] Additionally, somebody (presumed to be Spamton) attempted to commission Sweet Cap'n Cakes to sneak into the Queen's Mansion (presumably to grant him access to the machine), but they declined;[12] Spamton later convinces Kris to do likewise.

After asking him about friends, he brings up an individual named Mike. When talking about Mike, Spamton tells Kris not to trust what they hear on TV because "THE MAN'S A CRIMINAL."[13] Spamton also exclaims "ARE YOU GETTING ALL THIS [Mike]!?" at the end of his NEO fight if he is defeated violently, implying Mike may have recorded for Spamton in some capacity in the past.[14]

Chapter 2

Normal Route

Spamton is first encountered by Kris in Cyber City, where Kris seemingly disturbs the garbage container in which Spamton is residing. After a short interaction, Spamton engages Kris in combat as he continues attempting to convince them to accept his "deal."

Later, if Spamton was defeated through mercy, he can be seen again in a shop to the left of the Trash Zone. After Kris accepts yet another deal, he tasks Kris with bringing him an Empty Disk located in a basement in the Queen's Mansion. After purchasing a KeyGen from Spamton, Kris can retrieve the EmptyDisk from the machine in the dilapidated basement. Upon returning to Spamton's shop, Spamton proposes his final deal to Kris: transmitting Spamton through the EmptyDisk and returning it to the machine in the basement.

After Kris places the LoadedDisk back into the machine, Spamton transforms into Spamton NEO, much to his delight and excitement, but is horrified to see that his new form is held up by literal puppet strings. He attacks Kris in an attempt to obtain their SOUL, believing that it is the key to earning his "freedom." Before he can, however, Susie and Ralsei enter the room, and Susie interrupts him by using her Rude Buster spell to knock him out of the way, leading Spamton NEO to launch the three into carts, and battle the party for all of their SOULs.

Spamton NEO can be defeated either by fighting or by cutting the wires controlling him. If he is defeated by fighting, he attempts to continue the fight by turning into "Spamton EX," but his gravely damaged body explodes as he attempts to transform. If the party cuts all of his wires until one remains, Spamton NEO realizes that Kris is trying to free him in spite of his efforts to kill them. He dances gleefully and thanks them, asking them to cut the last wire, only for him to helplessly fall to the ground without any strings to hold him up.

No matter the method, once he is defeated, Spamton returns to his normal form and becomes calm and lucid. He laments how he could not become anything more than a puppet, but compliments the party's strength and wishes them well. He then offers himself to the party, transforming into either a Dealmaker (when defeated by cutting his wires) or a Puppet Scarf (when defeated by fighting). Kris also receives a Shadow Crystal.

#this is like half of his wiki #not even #I just think he’s silly #he fuels my non existent autism

[undead-dreams-of-overmorrow]

Happy pride month to the queers that can't come out to their friends and families. To the queers whose governments would torture or kill them for coming out. To queers who have lost all or most of their friends when they came out.

To queers that are not visibly queer. To queers who are visibly queer and are mocked for it.

To trans and nonbinary people who dont want to or maybe cant transition. Or who "dont pass". To ace and aro and aroace and bisexual people who are often assumed by others to be straight. To queers who are forced to "prove their queerness".

It is hard. But thats ok. Youre not alone. Queer is community. And one way or another we'll go through everything

Happy pride ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ

#not sure how to even tag this #happy pride 🌈 #queer #transgender #nonbinary #asexual #aromantic #bisexual #gay #lesbian #is this tag spam? hope not #green bear spam #queer is not a slur

[theficblog]

BABYSITTING

NA JAEMIN

Prologue: You think kids are little devils, as they turn out to be with you but Jaemin has got another side to show you.

Genre: Fluff 

Wordcount: 1,466

Warnings: Mild Language

The hands of the clock had barely made it through the daylight hours, but your condition was a disaster. Your room now appeared like some sort of zoo, to put it aptly. The bedcovers were pulled out, drawers and shelves raided, coloring pencils and crayons spread all across the room and to any possible place they could conquer. The screaming sounds mixed with the giggles and laughs now seemed rather evil to you.

Being a big sister and the only teen sister to your five little evil cousins wasn’t something you signed up for, but that’s just how it was. Your humungous family was having a get-together over the long weekend, resulting in all the uncles with a dead sense of humor, the aunts with relentless gossip whom you never liked, and the superficially cute-appearing cousins that carried chaos and trouble inside them gathering at your place. Having your grandparents around too was the only thing that you looked up to.

And it would have been completely fine if only people minded their own businesses, but that was not the case. You did not mind sitting down with everyone and being a part of a lively conversation, reminiscing about the old days, embarrassing stories from the past, bitching about the relatives that weren't present there. That was, after all, the essence of a family. It was only then that the conversations began to turn and hit you, questioning your career decisions, college grades, part-time, uninvitedly interfering in your little social life, talking about your never-before-existing love affairs with the rich boy next door, and what the hell not.

You had to bear it all, and you did. There was this thing about "family" that no one could ever escape, and you were no special exception either.

You reasoned that it would be better this afternoon because all of the adults from the functioning society had left the house. Was it for shopping? Just going around the city? Visiting some more knowns? You couldn’t care less. You were just happy that they were gone.

It had now been three hours since you were babysitting a bunch of toddlers. Ensuring they don’t bump their heads on your mum’s expensive taste furniture. Looking around, and counting their heads and turning the house upside down in case any one of them was not in place. You were now done with listening to their babbles and epics of how their kindergarten teacher awarded them with a star on their wrists. Things went worse when you allowed them in your room, giving them the permission to do just about whatever they wanted.

You placed yourself on your pastel green couch, pulling out your phone from your pocket and excusing yourself from the world. A text message from Jaemin, your college boyfriend, caught your attention before anything else.

"Hey, babe! Wanna hang out today?" he asked. Without even considering his offer, you spammed him with more texts.

"Why are kids so annoying?"

"Why do people get so excited over kids when, in the end, they turn out to be devils?"

"I swear there is something wrong with this generation."

"They won't get into place, so what the hell do I do now?"

"And I’m not even getting paid for it."

"They are now demanding gummy bears to assemble them into battalions like girl, for reals?"

You started off out of context, leaving Jaemin clueless. "Eh? You alright? Are you into babysitting kids, wait a minute, what?"

You realized. "Oh, I’m sorry, but I can’t hang out today, I have to watch over my cousins." You sent him a text back. What would otherwise have been a fun day out with your boyfriend has now turned into a stupid baby daycare session.

"I’m coming over." Jaemin replied. Too tired to respond back, you left him on read, the most recent evolved habit of yours.

Fifteen minutes later, you heard the door knock. You were sure it was Jaemin, but you would have been happier if the adults returned home. Oh, how badly you wish they could come and collect their devil bags. You were done.

"Hi!" Greeted Jaemin with his bunny smile and sparkling eyes. Either it was his caffeine addiction and espresso shots, or this boy just naturally never lacked energy, as cheerful as ever. For a moment you were lost, thinking of how jealous you were of him.

"Hey? Y/N, You alright?" He now clicked his fingers in front of your eyes, trying to grab your attention.

"Oh yeah, Hi Jaem! Come in!" You welcomed him inside and he was astonished to say the least upon viewing your otherwise immaculate house. Cushions on the floor acting as rugs, Legos, deadly little Lego pieces that no one would ever want to step on scattered. Chocolate bar wrappers and unwrapped stationery placed themselves at questionable places and oh, dear, your dad’s broken vinyl record.

Clearing his throat, Jaemin now took a glance at you. Shirt half tucking in, messy hair bun that was too messy to be considered fashionable, and mismatched pair of socks. They eyebags added more to your tired appearance.

"Are the kids bullying you?" Jaemin teased. It was meant to lighten up the atmosphere but Jaemin showcased his sense of humor at the wrong timing. You did not care that he was your boyfriend.

"More like do you want me to bully you?" You raged at him. Jaemin flinched for a second, but he was quick enough to realize it was not you but your sleep ridden, tired and annoyed soul shouting at him. If this boy could handle your PMS, this little incident was not a big game for him.

In a flash, he pulled you into a hug. The arms that could comfort you, anytime. It felt so comfortable that you could sleep in them for a lifetime. Plus his cologne added more to the vibe.

"I’m sorry". He comforted you as he pecked your forehead, squeezing you even tighter. "How about you go take a nap? You really need some rest right now." He offered and you were keen to accept it but you had family obligations.

"But them, these kids, Jaemin there are five of them and they are evil". You ranted out, almost on the verge of tears. "I’ll look after them". He stated, ready to take on the responsibility. You looked up at him, wearing a doubtful expression. "Oh, come on, I really can! If I can look after Jisung, your cousins are no big deal!", He justified.

"Jisung is fucking twenty." You reverted. How could Jaemin compare his two-years younger friend to babysitting. Jaemin was funny indeed and he sure knew how to lift your mood up.

He grinned at your response and headed the two of you into your room. Managing to scrape out some clean and comfy space of your bed that met with the fate of the toddlers. Jaemin planted a kiss on your forehead as you drifted to sleep.

Three and a half hours later you were woken up by more giggles, one of which seemed too gigantic to belong to a kid. You stepped out of your now-in-place room, rubbing your eyes in disbelief.

There sat Jaemin and the five cousins, with cookies in their hands as they watched Frozen on the TV. The aroma of freshly baked gourmets filled the entire living room, which had been restored to its original state.

You were beyond happy. Did Jaemin do all of this? Well, of course he did. There was no Gennie that could otherwise have done those little wonders.

"Hey Guys! Enjoying yourselves?" you inquired. Grins and cheers mixed with "Yep" responses answered you back.

"We baked cookies, do you want some?" commented one of the little devils, who now seemed to appear rather cute.

"We also cleaned up! Don’t this look shiny now?" said the other, who could barely speak with the stuffed food in her mouth.

"Jaemin you really tamed them like woah?! I never knew you were good with kids!" You exclaimed, returning back to your his arms as he rose from his seat. "Oh, I’m just good with so many things, It’s time you start acknowledging." Jaemin started off.

"Hmm, like? what else are you good at? Na Jaemin? Show me!" You whispered ever so sensually. Jaemin’s throat gulped and his gaze grew darker.

"AHEM AHEM!" You looked over to see the eldest of the kids, who was hardly six, covering his eyes. The others mimicked him.

“Mom taught us to cover the eyes and ears in front of adult things.”

"Don’t be a bad influence on your cousins, you know they are hard to tame, just like you". advised your boyfriend, with his cheeky grin taking over his face again.

You loved this boy.

LET ME KNOW YOUR VIEWS + ALSO SEE : MASTERLIST

PLEASE REFRAIN FROM PLAGIARIZING ,TRANSLATING, OR POSTING OUTSIDE THIS PLATFORM.  

#jaemin #nct dream #dreamies #dreamies ff #jaemin fluff #jaemin x reader #jaemin boyfriend #college boyfriend au #nct ff #nct jaemin #nana #bunnyzens #nct dream fluff #nct dream 00 line #nct 00 line #nct writing #ncf fanfiction #jaemin oneshot #jaemin nct #dream #7dream #dreamies fluff #na jaemin #neo culture technology #nctdream #nanadoongies

[mosscoveredpawss]

Intro Post!

Howdy Howdy! My name is Moss! Welcome to my alterhuman blog!

Get to know me!

🌿 My pronouns are They/it

🌿 I'm 18 years old

🌿 I like art, music, gardening, outdoor activities (nature walks, fishing, etc), D&D, Larping, cosplay, and fiber crafts (knitting and sewing mostly)

🌿 KINTYPES: Bear and Goblin

🌿 HEARTTYPES: Violet Green Swallow

🌿 CONSTELIC: Forest Angel

🐾Heres a link to my Carrd for more info 🐾

This blog will mostly be me just rambling about alterhuman things, my messages are open for anyone looking to make friends!

Spam and Anti's will be blocked!

#therian #alterhuman #otherkin #bear therian #bearkin #goblinkin #otherhearted #alterhumanity #therianthropy #otherkinity

[random4townheadcanons]

Z has had mild insomnia for a bit, it’s neutral but sometimes the guys can see him just walking around at like, 3 AM.

This is why him and T are attached.

T also has (Not very mild) insomnia and him and Z usually stay up until the early hours of the morning hanging out, usually playing video games but sometimes they watch movies too. Picture them in their matching pjs (the ones I talked about with the baggy t shirts, shorts and fuzzy socks in pastels of their favorite colors), slumped together on the couch playing a video game or watching their favorite movies. Typically, they do this and then go to bed around 1-2am, but it’s not uncommon for them to stay up until around 5-6am because they just really can not sleep sometimes. Z suffers from constant nightmares and so he either sleeps in T’s bed or T sleeps in Z’s bed at least half of the time. This really helps him be able to fall asleep. He feels protected and more comfortable when T is there with him. He really hates to be alone. When Z is sleeping by himself he always needs something with him to feel safer so he’ll keep one of T’s shirts that smells like him to sleep with (sappy).

Basically T and Z are joined at the hip and can’t be separated or they’ll get really bummed and anxious.

BONUS:

I’m sorry for how specific the matching pj’s thing was 😭 I just have this vision of all of the members having matching Pjs that I will describe in excessive detail because I want you to see the vision too 😁: they consist of pastel-colored oversized T shirts and (slightly less pastel) terrycloth shorts, and fuzzy socks. They’re all in their favorite colors; Robaire: green, Jesse: blue, Tae: pink, T: yellow/orange, and Z: magenta. Also the shirts have cute personalized graphics on them. They’re almost like their version of Care Bears pajamas with the graphics and pastels. But they don’t wear them always, only sometimes.

Wow that was a lot sorry lmfao.

Anyways I hope you liked it :)

Keep spamming my ask box with requests!!

#4town #4*town #4 town #4town headcanons #4town aaron t #4town aaron z #4town robaire #4town jesse #4town taeyoung

[moonjxsung]

hi star bb!!

i missed you on here! i’m glad you’re doing better from covid, the cough might last a while (it did for me at least). i hope you had some good rest in the meanwhile though! i’m sorry you’re having such a tough january, bb. i kinda hate january bc i get the winter blues and last year i had to get like emergency surgery and im ✨traumatized✨ i hope february is a much better month for everyone🫶🏻

the chokehold build a beard had/have on me is insane. my parents got me those sanrio ones for like graduation gifts and stuff but i didn’t have a place to display them and i didn’t want them to get ruined so i put them away. i’m never selling them but im glad they’re in good conditions (i still haven’t had the guts to wash them😭)

ofccc bestie when they get here imma spam everyone with pics. i’m so excited for them you have no idea. i’ve been wanting kuromi for a while but she was always sold out (i almost got cinnamoroll as a financially irresponsible decision but he has just sold out😭)

i did see the capybara!!! and it’s def cute, i was like “must buy soon”. bc that’s my new obsession. i also loooove snoopy (my whole apartment is snoopy themed bc im healing my inner child😂) and they released one as well so another one to add to my list of financially irresponsible purchases!

i send you all my love and good wishes! ily💜

-🐈‍⬛

HI BBYYYYY !! 🫶🫶🫶🫶🩷🩷 the cough is indeed still lingering (sucking on a cough drop as we speak 💔) but at least the worst of it is over 😮‍💨 I think I’ll hate January forever after this year (also emergency surgery??? That sounds so scary bby I am SO sorry ☹️) at least it’s February now! Sending you all my love and best wishes for a great February 💖💘💓 SAME ABOUT THE BUILD A BEARS….. I am obsessed with the spring green frog from BAB literally anything spring green frog will find a home in my room 😤 I’ve been wanting the pink one forever but I think it was a limited edition one I’m SO SAD. Also I didn’t know there was a KUROMI BAB??? HUHHHH THIS IS NEWS TO ME…. I NEED HER. ALSO SNOOPY????? I love snoopy soooo bad oh my god especially anything puffer coat snoopy he is the CUTESTTTT😭😭 manifesting you get snoopy BAB!!!!

I love YOU I hope you’re doing amazing pookie 🫶💓🩷💔💘💖👼⭐️

#🐈‍⬛ anon #ask

[never-took-a-lesson]

Whack A Minion!

main event post here

As a part of the ongoing Forte Steals Christmas mini event, you can send into my asks to defeat either Santa or Forte’s minions to accumulate points for your team. 

The rules are as follows.

You, the individual player, can only target three minions a day.  Only three per player a day. Period.  Regardless of the amount of muses you have. To prevent cheating/spamming. 

Specify which three minion types you’re attacking (listed below), otherwise I can’t roll for a result.

This is entirely luck based.  Your character's powers don’t change the result of your roll. But you’re welcome to display their powers for flare if you want to make in-character posts about the battle.

I will be rolling the dice, using a RNG. I'll post a screencap of the number in my response.

Each minion type is worth a certain amount of points and has different odds of rolling a win (listed below).

You rack up points for the team opposite of the minions you defeat.. obviously. 

The minions

Red for Santa’s minions , Green for Forte’s minions 

Odds Out of 10

1 Point - Elf - roll 1, 3, 5, 7 or 9 to win

2 Points - Polar Bear - roll 3, 5 or 9 to win

5 Points- Snow Monster - roll 5 to win

1 Point - Rat - roll 1, 3, 5, 7 or 9 to win

2 Points - Wolf - roll 3, 5 or 9 to win

5 Points- Dragon - roll 5 to win

#ooc #event: Forte Steals Christmas

[raspberryjellybrains]

hay~~! if anyone's interested, I wrote a thing. (click the title to read):

an infinite hollow ache bearing down, hotdiggityfrog

The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Relationships: Dream of the Endless/Thessaly, Dream of the Endless & Everyone

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, (all other characters here only mentioned), Thessaly (The Sandman), Calliope (The Sandman), Alianora (The Sandman), Nada (The Sandman), Matthew the Raven, Fiddler's Green | Gilbert

Additional Tags: whoops boy I think that's all of em, I'm not trying to spam tag just let people know what to expect, genuinely sorry if you are frustrated by this, why did it autocorrext to whoops. coping., Angst, Meta, Starvation, Touch-Starved Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hurt No Comfort, Unhealthy Relationships, as dark as it looks but more interesting I hope, Traumatized Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Food Issues, Canon Major Character Death, The Sandman (Comics) Spoilers, conversational omniscient narration, role playing god 🤙

Summary: Dreams are a hope deffered and a hunger that knows no bounds. Why would their embodiment be anything else? He wouldn't, and that's just the hang of it.

#i couldn't get the normal link to work sorry #so i like. jerry rigged somethin. #anyway bon appetite #if you know me irl just this once no you don't <3 #dream of the endless #the sandman #raspberry tart