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#y’all live on a farm
puthyflapps · 8 months
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And then her nasty, no-good, demon boyfriend said this was a dress for whores and sluts
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rainymoodlet · 1 year
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loving in the long grass, close beside her 🍃 giving her the name of the one the moon loves
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you know there’s a specific kind of horror to sidestep not being Broken, but being Changed in some way. there’s obvious reasons to break, but to change is something else.
change raises questions of why? why were they changed? what is the intended outcome of the change? what specifically was done to incite the change? there’s horror in being changed to someone’s idea of how someone should act/what their personality should be; who they are as defined by someone else. existence dictated by someone else, and furthermore to wonder and live in a way as such to wonder if what came before was “who they are” or what here now is truly the reality.
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tvrningout-a · 8 months
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i’m on my way home after visiting my grandparents but what if i make chiyo a lil isekai au as a treat… maybe a general one if other people are interested in that genre, but also specifically for rin’s world 👀 what if there’s a god of travel and time and whatnot who is just a goofy little guy who plucks her out of her dimension bc “ these mortals need a fresh look on things and i like your manga series ( ooh those battle scenes are good ) and you were talking about going far away anyway hehe ”
meanwhile chiyo is so confused and cursing and is just very lucky that she stumbles upon rin who goes “ lmao you’re saying a god decided to turn your life upside down?? join the club 💜 ” and all i’m saying is it would be fun and interesting to write and i just really wanna write my lil dork in this setting since i’m obsessed with it atm :’ )))
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jackinalex · 8 months
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I love seeing Alex but not on the farm 😂
If I have to see him on the farm, I’d rather never see him again.
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just had to chase a lamb across my front yard
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mumza-superiority · 2 years
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everyone: omg quackity lore!! Wilbur lore !!!
me, who hasn’t had the time/motivation to watch the lore because of the sdv fixation:
hehe farming game
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domesticateddog · 2 years
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he was having a bad day yesterday so he just took and nap and slept for a while then got up waaay later (which made him feel better). so we took another night walk and as we were holding hands coming back to the house, laughing and talking, he said “do you wanna get married?” somewhat jokingly, then he was like “i think you’d be a good wife…” and i joked that i’d only be a good wife bc i’m neurotic about cleaning the house (which i am.) and he laughed and was like “no. it’s bc when i asked if you’d wipe my butt even if i was morbidly obese you said yes.” lol
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delicateimage · 8 months
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I forget people my age have danganronpa Stan accounts on Twitter and are making ed twt posts of cartoons
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duplecsbow · 9 months
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🌈⛈️
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stars-on-fyre · 11 months
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So I finished reading The Coward by Stephen Aryan and the only thing I didn’t like was the ending because damn y’all let Kell Kressia rest he’s been through enough 😭
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ivysoul · 2 months
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FIRESIDE. ✸ farmhand!rafe cameron au [1.1k]
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summary. rafe cameron. everything you need and more.
꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ ༘⋆❥ afab!reader, farmer’s daughter au!, reader calls her dad “daddy” but it’s obvs not sexual (it’s country. it’s a country thing it’s normal.), porn with minimal plot, ooc rafe (he’s just sweeter in this lmao), mutual pining, friends with benefits, except reader has such an awful crush on him, unprotected p in v, public sex (no one sees), against a barn oops, dirty talk, fingering, praise, creampie.
reign speaks. i have a rlly bad obsession on the farmer’s daughter aesthetic rn so pls just bare with me while i literally milk the ever living hell out of it. a lot of farmer’s daughter/country au’s in the drafts rn. rafe, leon, ghost, you name it. just let me cook y’all i swear something good will come of it i promise LMAO. sorry about any spelling errors i wrote this in two hours😭
• — ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ꒰ nav ꒱
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rafe cameron had an incredible way of making you feel both wanted and wholly confused all at once. he could be at your feet, begging you to follow him around whilst he did his farm work for your father, to keep him company and fill his ears with your voice of honey. he’d look at you as if you yourself had put the very moon and stars in the sky, as if you’d put them there just for him. hell, he even carved a small heart out of wood and attached it to some ribbon and gently wrapped it around your wrist.
he’d do all this just to continue calling you his friend.
his friend that he occasionally fucks dumb every week. the friend whose brain he turns to mush with his sweet words as he thrusts his cock deep into your cunt. the friend that he spends more time pleasuring than himself.
this time was no different. just another time when you snuck out of your bedroom window and into the warm night, illuminated by the soft hues of the moons glow. the note he had slipped into your hand earlier in the day had been discarded in a box under your bed.
(where you kept all of the notes he’d given you. shamefully, you must admit).
now, you find yourself being pressed against the side of your father’s old barn, towered over by rafe, mouths colliding in mutual desperate need. you pawed at his clothe covered chest, taking the fabric in your fist. his hand held the back of your neck while the other gripped at the skin on your hip, having pushed itself up and under your floral cotton nightgown. his fingers toyed with the waistband of your panties but never dared to go further, not yet.
the feeling of rafe took over your senses. he rendered you unable to form any thoughts other than him. it was embarrassing—the effect he had on you.
he pulled away against his own wishes to catch some air. but the look in his eyes, the look, forbade you from breathing any air at all.
“i missed you today,” he confesses. his voice is like silk against skin. smooth and gentle. “where’d you go?”
you smiled at him. “ran some errands with daddy. needed t’ get a new rake since someone broke the other one.”
“i told you, it was an accident!”
the laugh that escapes him makes butterflies form in your belly.
“i know, ‘m just teasin’.” you run your hand through his hair. when he leans back in and kisses you deeply, gently nipping your bottom lip, you tug lightly at the roots of his hair. the groan he lets out sends shocks through you.
you felt anticipation build up higher and higher when rafe’s index and middle fingers grazed over your clothed cunt, feeling the wet patch and knowing how wet you were already. he applied slight pressure to your clit over your panties, making you whine desperately.
“rafe, please.”
he made a faux pouty expression, displaying fake confusion. “what? i’m just teasin’.”
he is not mocking you right now.
he let out a small laugh before dipping his hands into your panties and finally drawing small circles on your clit. you moaned a little too loud at the sudden feeling, making rafe clamp his free hand over your mouth.
he then pushes a finger, then two, into your sopping cunt, curling them slightly. your eyes practically roll to the back of your head. you were thankful he had your mouth covered, otherwise you would’ve woken up not only the animals on the farm, but also your parents inside the the house.
rafe wasn’t holding back, giving you exactly what you wanted and needed. “god, she’s so wet f’r me, baby. you been missin’ me? missed my words? my fingers? my cock?”
you nodded the best you could with his hand on your mouth. your abdomen constricting with every sharp jolt of pleasure he gave you. an all too familiar feeling was rising too fast for you to prepare for.
but just as quickly it came, it left when he retracted his hands entirely.
you wanted to plead, you would’ve if not for the mouth guard, but instead you attempted to grab at rafe’s hand once again. he just shook his head, shushing you softly and undoing his belt with one hand. christ, you could’ve cum right then.
“don’t worry, baby, i’m gonna take care of you.”
he pulls your panties down and they pool at your ankles. you only have time to step one foot out of them before he’s grabbing at your leg and pulling it against his waist, your panties hanging from your ankle.
rafe takes his hand off your mouth and instead wraps it around your neck and captures your lips with his. in one push, he filled you to the brim with his cock.
your jaw falls slack as moans upon moans escape you. there was nothing rafe could’ve done to muffle you now. with him hitting every spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, you were done for.
the wood of the barn walls scraped against your bare shoulders, rafe’s hand sneaking up and under your nightgown to grope at your tits, pinching your nipples.
“rafe, rafe—fuck!—”
“watch your mouth, princess,” rafe warns. the nickname making your mind swirl. “i know it feels good, y’pussy’s just squeezin’ me. like it wont let me move.”
“‘m sorry! ‘m sorry!” you could barely think. his cock stretched you so much, providing the perfect combination of stinging pleasure.
once again, you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter the more rafe fucks his cock into you. you attempted to grasp at any part of him that you could get ahold of and the only word you could mumble out was his name, over and over, until you finally let go. your body spasmed, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. rafe fucked you through your orgasm before he came inside you, against his better judgment. his hips stuttered back and forth, grinding himself against you as much as he could until he had nothing left to give you.
he stilled as you two caught your breaths, until he eventually pulled out and fixed himself back up.
“lift your foot, baby.”
you lifted your foot as he said and he put it through your panties, lifting them up your legs and resting them back against your wet cunt. his cum pooled from you and into your panties, but you didn’t care. you’ll just wash them tomorrow.
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angelbarelywrites · 2 months
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♡ slashers scenarios | sharing a bed
♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡ cw; very suggestive content, implied smut
♡note; swapped out billy in this one bc i can’t imagine him sharing a bed with someone and not getting literally pornographic
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Brahms Heelshire
> Once he decides he wants to share the bed, he finds the biggest guest room bed and brings all of the comfiest pillows and blankets he can to make it perfect
> For you more than him, but he doesn’t feel too hurt when you push half of them to the foot of the bed
> It was a lot even for a king bed
> You’re reluctant at first, not used to sharing a bed
> But you find he’s very hard to say no to once you’re in that deep
> He tries to give you space, but it’s not long before he’s wrapped around you, clinging for dear life
> And he almost immediately falls asleep like that, head tucked into your chest
> You sigh and try and relax, petting his hair
> And you fall asleep with your hand still tangled in his black locks, holding him close to you
> You wake up to him nuzzling your neck and practically whining
> “Baby…wake up…”
> You’d ask him what the problem was…if you couldn’t feel it against your leg
> You spend most of the morning still in bed, lazily fixing his predicament
Micheal Myers
> He doesn’t get why you want him to do this
> You know he doesn’t cuddle
> You know he usually gets restless and wanders at night
> But there’s no reason to say no, and even he can’t stand how sad your pout is
> You hum and stretch, tucking yourself in and look at him expectantly
> He takes off his boots and lays on top of the covers beside you, stiff as a board
> You have to coax him to even take the mask off, but he still won’t relax
> You quickly realize he’s used to high security psych ward bunks, not big comfy queen beds full of stuffed animals
> “…do you…wanna sleep on the floor?”
> He pauses.
> Shakes his head and closes his eyes.
> After you finally fall sleep, he sits up, intending on leaving
> But you look so peaceful…he can’t help to stay and watch you. Just for a little while.
> When he touches your cheek, you press into his hand. Maybe a while longer.
> When you wake up he’s still staring at you, hand long gone from your cheek
> But once you blink awake, it creeps somewhere else..
Thomas Hewitt
> He’s almost nervous of the idea
> Y’all are certainly intimate with each other - just as intimate as you would be if you were married like his mama was planning
> But what if the family noticed you were in there? He’d kill Hoyt for calling you anything nasty-
> When he sees you in skimpy PJs, he immediately forgets his worries
> He has a huge bed because he’s a huge guy, so when you curl up in it alone, it’s almost comical
> He’s staring at you as he climbs in after you, cautiously removing his mask
> His shoulders relax a little when you smile up at him, still so amazed you can stand to look at him
>“Hold me?”
> He grunts and takes no time in pulling you flush, spooning you. He’s more relaxed than he’s been in a while, sure he’ll fall asleep in no time
> Until you give a tiny sigh and shift your hips, innocently adjusting
> It doesn’t take much for you to set him off- he’s touch starved and obsessed with you.
> Along with feeling him against your ass, you can literally hear his breathing change.
> “…Tommy baby? Want me to take care of that?”
> It takes another two hours before you fall asleep, both sticky with sweat and sated, your head laying on his broad chest.
Bubba Sawyer
> He’s so happy to have a sleepover- even if you live right down the hall in the same house (I cannot imagine you dating him and being allowed to leave the farm tbh)
> He gives you an updated tour of his room- he’s very happy to show you the collection of polaroids of you he hung up.
> You were wondering where those went
> Finally he drops you on the bed, giggling quietly
> It’s old but comfy, and he has plenty of stolen pillows and blankets, and even some stuffed bears
> He strips right on down to his heart boxers, leaving his mask on for last
> He takes it off slowly, giving you that shy look he always does
> You grin and open your arms and he’s more than happy to scoop you up with a coo.
> By the time you’re settled, you’re curled around his back
> He loves being the little spoon, even if he’s a big brute
> When you wake up he’s bursting back into the room with some slightly burnt toast for breakfast
> It’s a sudden wake up call, but a welcome one
> And you repay him in tons of kisses, all over
Vincent Sinclair
> Like some of the others he’s hesitant
> But you want him to relax, he’s been working so hard- so you take him away from the studio, and into your room
> You’re not even letting him so much as sketch until he sleeps
> He tilts his head and is almost pouting, trying to guilt you - even more so once you help him remove his wax
> Until you coax him into his stomach so you can massage his back, that is
> You’re clumsy and certainly not a professional, but your hands on him is enough to melt away the stress
> He suddenly rolls over and grabs your hips as he hears you yawn
> It’s your turn to pout down at him
> But eventually you relent and let him cradle you close to his chest as he hums a nonsense lullaby
> You keep him trapped in bed the next morning as revenge, again straddling him before he can get up to leave
> But this time, you’re most certainly not yawning
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kedsandtubesocks · 1 month
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seasons of you (year 1 - spring)
Farmer!Joel Miller x F!Reader
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summary: it’s your very first spring living in the valley & you’re very sure Joel Miller already wants you leave
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a new farmer & has a family but no physical description, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s) very light use of gendered language, handyman & farmer!Joel, grumpy!Joel, wound tending & blood imagery, discussion of family loss with light navigation of grief, Ellie being Joel’s daughter, secret softie!Joel, alcohol consumption mention, use of nickname, budding romance
word count: 5.4k
a/n: our first ‘Joel’ fic for our stardew AU series! Here’s to starting this new aventure with y’all! I couldn’t have the strength to post this without @swiftispunk @lowlights @ahauntedcowboy @burntheedges @perotovar you angels don’t know how much I appreciate y’all and am so grateful for you babes…and to you, if you read this - I’m so thankful for you too ♡
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No one in Pelican Town hates you more than Joel Miller does. George, the crabby older elderly man in town, might be a close second, but Joel has him beat by miles.
For someone so incredibly handsome, almost beautiful in a rugged wilderness way with his misty mountain gray hair and sharp lovely nose, his glare could wither your entire family farm’s field.
“He’s just an ass sometimes.” Your Dad had told you with a sigh over the phone. “Been that way even when your gramps was around.”
At first you didn’t want to fully admit it but yeah, Joel is a prickly cactus of a man.
He owns a farm further down the path from yours. You love walking by it when you take the long way home and getting to spot all the sheep roaming around his fields. He’s also the town’s handyman.
“A jack of all trades, more like it.” Pierre, the main store owner, snickered that to you while Joel was in the store fixing a light fixture.
After that Joel helped you set up your first fencing gate. Then he fixed your sink. And then your water heater.
It’s been a lot and you know it. You feel guilty at how bad you can’t seem to get a hang of this new life yet. Your grandpa did it, thrived even. You can too, or you hope you can.
Until Joel glares at you like you’re a bug ready to squash, then you feel incredibly small.
Once you physically and accidentally ran into him walking out of the blacksmith’s shop when he was heading in. You sputtered out an apology, but without a single word Joel walked past you as if you weren’t even worth his time.
One night you went to the town’s saloon hoping to maybe mingle and get to know everyone better. But simply seeing him sitting inside made you turn on your heels and scramble out.
From that point on you’ve been avoiding him.
But now unfortunately, a few paces away from Joel Miller’s farm, your hand bleeds out a bit aggressively.
“Shit.” You hiss, slipping off your backpack to search for your mini first aid kit.
Yesterday you stubbornly tried fixing your fence and accidentally scrapped your hand pretty bad against the wood. Earlier you believed you wrapped it good enough but now the blood soaking through the bandaid mocks you.
“You alright?!”
The sharp accented drawl rings out loud in the early morning and fear collides into you.
Of course Joel hadn’t left for the morning.
You yell back that you’re fine but scramble frantic now trying to find the damn first aid kit.
“Is that blood?” Joel snaps, sounding closer, as his boots rush against the dirt.
“No, I spilled paint.” You grumble to yourself annoyed.
“M’old but I fuckin’ heard that.” Damn.
He’s much closer now, so close his shadow falls over you but you refuse to look at him.
“What happened!?” He barks confused.
Sighing, you give up hope on finding the poor elusive first aid kit.
“Just cut my hand, that's all. It isn’t deep. I’m fine.” You reassure him.
Joel sighs angrily.
“Come on.”
Now you turn and discover his soil eyes stare at you with such a steeled intensity you almost want to scurry away.
“Fixin’ this up inside.” He doesn’t even ask or let you leave. With one yank Joel Miller pulls you towards his farmhouse.
“I’m fine.” You snap back.
“What? Just wanna let it bleed ‘n get everywhere?” An edge in Joel’s voice silences you.
Any argument you wanted to hiss out immediately floats away the moment you cross the threshold into his house. Your eyes go wide. You never once thought you’d ever see the inside of Joel Miller’s place.
It’s larger than your grandpa's.
Joel deposits you into his kitchen. The lingering smell of breakfast, possibly oatmeal with its warm cinnamon notes, hangs in the air. Yet you feel like a caught feral cat that doesn’t know how to react being inside a house for the first time.
So you let your eyes wander.
Beautiful wood cupboards line the walls. A fridge is covered with various papers held up by sweet colorful cartoonish magnets you never would’ve expected from him. A worn cozy, well loved, couch peeks out from the slight view of the living room you spot being inside the kitchen.
Joel’s house seems knitted together by a rustic weathered comfort. Yet, there’s a hollowness to the house, like it’s waiting for more spirit to fill the halls. You can’t pinpoint or describe the stillness here in this place, but you sense it.
After rustling around a drawer, Joel yanks out a rather impressive medical kit. Largely bulky and intimidating, like him, it’s no surprise a handyman and farmer has such a first aid kit.
“How’d it happen?” Joel asks gruff and quiet as he rummages around the bag.
You tell him and his seasoned face scrunches up frustrated.
“Why didn’t ya call and have me go fix it?”
You thought about that. But you couldn’t handle the thought of asking him to help again, to deal with his frustrated sighs and gruff annoyance. He barely said a word to you last weekend when he went to check your sink again.
“Don’t need you to fix everything.” You tell him composed while Joel pulls out various things to wrap your wound.
“Besides, I can fix things on my own.” You add firm.
“Not all the time.” He replies.
You stay quiet and watch his hands, large and callous, gingerly dab away all the crimson from your cut.
He’s never been this close to you. You catch the faintest smell of wood and of something clean crisp, his laundry detergent maybe. It threatens to fog your senses knowing he smells this lovely.
“Y’dont ask for help and shit like this happens.”
Your face hardens at Joel’s words. You even childishly want to yank away your hand and storm off.
“Look I get it, you barely tolerate me and think I can’t do shit. I know I’m still new, but this was an accident. It happens.” Your words come out harsher than you intended, sharpened scythes that cut through the room, and Joel freezes.
“I don’t think that.” He replies clear as a spring blue sky.
You want to bark a laugh of disbelief, but instead you simply stay silent.
Joel sighs, keeping his eyes on the medic tape he readies.
“And I… tolerate you.” He sputters like he’s trying to muster the words out.
A moment passes. Then Joel sighs, ancient and heavy.
“Don’t mind me. M’just some grumpy old fuck-”
“Hey you’re not old. You’re just grumpy.” You interrupt trying to ease the mood and your heart jumps hearing him snort.
“M’old.” He clarifies. He is older, older than you, and that fact creates a strange flutter in your chest you don’t want to explore just yet.
“And…don’t want ya feelin’ like shit.” He continues with a curt softness.
You never knew his voice could sound this layered, so tough but tender.
“Just tryin’ to look out for ya like your gramps asked me too.”
There’s a strange apology shaded in his words but you manage to catch it. A rush of emotions drown you in their current.
“You were close with my grandpa.” You comment with a curious question lingering below the surface.
“Yeah,” Joel answers low now tenderly moving to wrap your hand. “His ol’ ass used to keep me in place.”
You smirk fondly. That sounds like your gramps.
“Miss seein’ him walk by this place and hearin’ him complain that he likes the sheep more than me.”
Joel’s fond and aching voice digs its hooks into your soul. You miss gramps too, so much.
“Used to fish a lot together out by the lake.” He adds.
This is the most Joel Miller has ever spoken to you and you worry the sun might fall out of the sky soon.
“I bet he out fished you.” You tease soft.
Joel snorts. “Damn right he did.”
You can almost picture it clearly, your gramps and Joel laughing together, having a friendship.
“He’d be proud of ya.” Joel mutters but his words chime clear.
Your attention flickers to Joel. He keeps his focus steady on your hand. However his words crystallize deep in your heart and you blink away tears. You ever expected Joel Miller to almost make you cry like this.
“Thanks…means a lot.” You truthfully tell him while you swallow back the heartache and love threatening to spill over.
“He’d also say you’re a fuckin’ stubborn thing for not askin’ for help.”
You snort at that.
“Well you knew the old guy, it runs in the family.” You reply.
Joel chuckles.
It’s small - like the faint flash of seeing a cardinal in the trees. But you heard it, his amusement, and it’s lovely for a man quietly layered as him.
“Alright, all fixed up.”
The wrap is tight, secure, and speaks of his many times previously doing this before.
“Thank you Joel, appreciate it.” You do.
“Can't be a handyman if I can’t fix up people sometimes.” He shrugs but there’s a deadpan charm to his words you’re slowly catching now.
“Doctor and a handyman, no wonder the town keeps you around.” So you dryly joke back.
This moment isn’t much. Yet it feels like gaining a good step in the direction of something right and solid.
Gathering your things, you decide to head out. Even though curiosity claws at you to take in a few more moments being inside Joel Miller’s home, you have seeds to buy.
“Where ya headin’’ to?” Joel asks.
“Pierre’s.” You huff. “Need more parsnips.”
He hums a noise of acknowledgment.
Back outside the mid morning sun’s warmth soaks you in its gaze. Maybe you could fish for a bit before you head to the store. After all, the weather is so nice.
“Hey.” Joel barks out and before heading back on the road, you turn to him.
He’s a sight on his porch. You think of the typical romance movies of the handsome farmer trying to woo the newcomer in town and how right now he puts them all to shame.
Hands crossed over his chest, his broad shoulders seem like mountains against the doorway, so striking and large taking up the entire focus.
“Don’t hesitate to call y’hear? Don’t fuckin’ care what it is or what it’s for, call me.” Joel’s face is hardened and serious, reflecting the unwavering tone in his voice.
Something heated crawls up your throat and makes you dizzy. You blame it on the blood loss.
“Besides, s’what neighbors are for, right?” He adds a bit awkwardly.
It hits you. He’s the closest homestead to you. You are neighbors with him.
“Alright will do, promise.” You nod and mean your words.
“Thanks again neighbor.” Those words tingle on your lips.
Joel nods and with that you head out.
You’re on such a strange high you simply float straight to the pier and fish. It’s comforting being among the crashing waves, the sea breeze, and the wonderful weather. You also think of your gramps and Joel here.
But by the time the sky starts to turn into a ripe tangerine you realize in horror you forget to buy more seeds.
You almost scream in anguish when you find Pierre’s doors locked. Accepting momentary defeat, you head home.
When you reach your porch, there against the steps a bundle of parsnip seeds and a small pack of bandaids sit waiting for you.
- ☼ -
Your hope to quietly enjoy the egg festival, your true first event here in the valley, is diminished when Mayor Lewis practically drags you into the egg hunt saying it’s a rite of passage.
His deadly polite politician smile said there was no way you could worm your way out of participating. So you simply start the hunt thinking of the strawberry seeds you can’t wait to plant once this is over.
You’re not overly competitive, but these eggs are getting harder to find. You want to finish at least with some dignity.
Besides the area around Stardrop Saloon you scan every inch like a hawk. Someone coughs, clearing their throat, and it catches your attention.
Under the shade of the building, nursing a cold drink, Joel slightly turns towards you.
Now instead of a hawk you feel like a surprised field mouse caught in his gaze.
Without saying anything Joel flickers his eyes a couple of times towards the corner of the building. Is he giving you a hint?
Heading to the spot his eyes vaguely guided you to, you discover a colorful egg.
You almost want to keep it as proof this happened. Joel helped you.
By the time the egg hunt ends everyone already seems to be packing up and the mysterious Mr. Miller has vanished from the commotion.
Abigail wins the egg hunt and you aren’t even upset. In fact you walk home feeling like a champion.
The next morning on the help wanted and errands bulletin board in town you spot Joel’s name. Below it is a request asking for a small pack of wood.
You readily answer it and drop off the bundle eagerly, a way to help pay him back for everything.
The pretty decent payment he gives you is nice but the crooked soft hint of a grin on his face when you arrive to deliver the request is worth iridium.
A few days after that he mails you a recipe. The letter is so simply Joel - a straightforward recipe then a scribbled JM below it. You hang the letter up proudly on your fridge.
Spring blooms more and more before your eyes.
You decide to take advantage of it by foraging for the day.
“Where y’heading?”
You’ve been taking the long way to the forest these past few weeks in hopes of seeing him again. Now that you’re not actively avoiding him, you discover, small town or not, Joel is a surprisingly busy man.
When you catch glimpses of him, instead of glares being thrown your way, Joel Miller simply nods acknowledging you. Comforting as it is to know he doesn’t outright detest, you don’t like how much you hope to run into him more.
Now he’s here sliding on his backpack while moving to lock his gate.
“Just heading to the forest, gonna forage and walk around for the day.” You answer him.
“Works out, hafta head that way myself.” Joel explains falling into step besides you.
Alone with Joel Miller once again.
The small talk comes - asking each other how your days have been, anything new or interesting happening. The heat is starting to pick up announcing summer’s close arrival. Thankfully it’s still not unbearably hot as you and him fully enter the woods.
Cindersap forest is tranquil. A beautiful glimmering evergreen haven you enjoy simply strolling through. You never thought you’d ever be here with Joel.
“No new crops coming in?”
“Nothing exciting.” You shrug. “I’m more upset that I didn't plant any tulips this season.”
“Those your favorite?” Joel asks, surprisingly curious.
“Not mine, my gramps.” Your memories of the farm might be hazy, but you always remembered fresh tulips in the kitchen.
“They’re for the fairies.” Gramps would tell you with a wink.
You were bummed after realizing Pierre had flower seeds and it was too late to see them bloom in your kitchen.
“Damn,” Joel sighs. “Ain't your fault. Pierre’s an ass and hides all the good shit, flower seeds included.”
You’re almost positive Pierre doesn’t do that, but you burst out laughing.
A giddy twinkling glee consumes you and fills you buoyant. He’s trying to comfort you in his own Joel way. And it’s dangerous how fast you’re growing to enjoy the company of this grumpy cactus of a man.
You move to snag a few dandelions and wild horseradishes. You make a face at one that smells a bit ripe and decide to leave it for the forest.
“You can eat those y’know.” Joel comments.
“Yeah so I’ve heard.” You tried your first ever daffodil this month. “A wild horseradish might be a bit too much right now though, but who knows. Maybe one day I’ll try ‘em.”
“My kid used to eat these all the damn time. Never took a likin’ to ‘em myself.” Joel grumbles kicking the disposed horseradish.
Kid.
“You have a kid?” You ask curiously.
Joel blinks to you and there’s a gleam in his earth eyes of something reserved slowly revealing itself.
“Uh… yeah. A daughter. Ellie.”
A daughter. He’s a dad.
It fits him in a way that you never would have expected.
“She doesn’t live here?” You ask but then quickly apologize for pressing the subject. Joel waves you off, casual and unbothered.
“She did, just graduated highschool this year. Wanted to do the whole college deal. She lives out west now.”
So he’s an empty nester.
Delicately, wanting to know more about him and his daughter, you ask about her.
Joel inhales deep then exhales slowly, as if an immovable weight on his shoulders rattles deep to his bones.
“She’s a headache, my Ellie.” Fondness trickles out of Joel a steady stream.
“Stubborn, damn near impossible to argue with cause she’s so fuckin’ smart. Got a good heart. Good head on her shoulders too, wants to be an astronaut.”
“An astronaut?! That’s incredible!” You exclaim in brilliant excitement.
Like the proud dad he is, adoration tugs at Joel’s lips.
“Yeah, been wantin’ to be one for years. That’s why she’s going to school.”
“She sounds incredible, Joel. You must be proud.” You earnestly tell him.
“I am…” His voice is thick, and you don’t miss the way his eyes gloss over distant and misty.
You decide not to press the subject any further. He instead does it for you.
“She loved livin’ here until the damn flower festival rolled around. Then she’d swear up ‘n down about how much she hated this town and was gonna leave the second she could.”
The flower festival is just days away. The town swirls in a controlled chaos for its arrival.
You laugh warm. “I’m guessing she’s not a fan of dancing.”
“Takes after me.” Joel nods.
“Ahh…so guess that means you’re not asking anyone to dance this year.” You comment lightly and Joel snorts.
“Ain’t danced with anyone in a very long time.”
A wistful ace now twists your heart thinking of Joel alone in his home, alone watching the others in town pair off.
“You gonna ask anyone?” Joel turns the question around to you and you almost choke on an inhale.
Not wanting to get flustered or react wildly you focus on the wild springs among the lush forest.
“Uh no. Don’t think anyone wants to dance with the newbie in town. Which is fine.” You answer.
There are lovely and gorgeous people in town. Some have caught your eye. However, you didn’t feel brave or interested enough to ask anyone to dance. And no one seemed intended to ask for your hand in the dance, and you find you’re not too upset about that.
Joel hums low, a sign you’re catching on means he’s listening without having to reply much.
“Hopin’ someone will ask ya to dance?” That question takes you by surprise.
You shrug not wanting to fully answer the question either.
Someone suddenly calls out to Joel from behind. At the edge of the forest leading back into town stands Maria, the town’s legal counsel and assistant mayor.
“Caught playing hooky, busted.” You snicker and Joel scoffs.
Maria yells out Joel’s name again.
“Can you come back to town and help us with something? Thought you’d be at home seeing how it’s your day off today. I’ve been trying to call ya but nothing went through.” She yells.
The service here in the forest was awful compared to the town, a hard lesson you’ve learned quickly.
But you also don’t miss Maria’s comment.
Joel had today off. Yet he decided to stay a bit with you. That thought has teeth and you can’t stop their bite from sinking into your heart.
Joel groans but doesn't hesitate to head towards where the assistant mayor stands. Maria of course spots you and a wonderful grin lights up lovely her face.
“It’s good to see you.” She calls out.
“You too!” You reply back thankful your voice is level.
Joel glances over his shoulder to catch your eye.
“Good luck foragin’. Don’t eat any weird shit.”
You sputter out a squawk at his casual comment.
“Next time I see you, I’m giving you a wild horseradish!” You playfully snap the ridiculous reply before you can even stop yourself, but Joel thankfully rolls his eyes unbothered.
Maria’s eyes however flicker curiously between you and Joel. Too many emotions heat up your skin now. So bidding Joel and Maria a quick goodbye you stomp back into the forest to continue foraging.
Now along in the woods, your thoughts still think of Joel. The bag of parsnip seeds, the bandages, and the recipe, come to mind. You never once discussed any of it with him or him with you. It’s something you keep locked in your heart, just like today will be.
Soon the day melts into early twilight. You snag a couple of dandelions and a few other forageables before deciding to head home.
Joel’s farm house looms quietly still with no lights. You can’t bring yourself to open the gate to his farm and walk up to the house.
So instead you place a few dandelions along with a nice fresh large wild horseradish on top of the mailbox by his gate then head home.
Even when you unwind for the night, you mind still feels like it’s snagged on Joel Miller, still there with him foraging in the forest.
- ☼ -
The flower dance, as strange of a custom as it is, is rather ethereal. So many vivid floral arrangements decorate the space with dynamic colors and the air even smells fresh.
The flower dance honors the legacy of celebrating the final days of spring. But it also is a celebration of love blooming.
“It has roots dating back to fertility rituals.” Demetrius, ever the town scientist, told you while you were chatting with him and his wife.
He was right of course. The flower dance is the opportunity for someone to extend a hand of romantic feelings towards another. Those who hope to participate in the couples dance, or possibly win the crown of Flower Queen, are dressed in glorious attire. Soft light fabrics and flowers woven into crowns create a scene conjured out of a fairy’s kingdom.
Compared to the others in lovely attire with flowers in their hair, you didn’t even dress up or change out of your messy dirt covered jeans. And the only flowers in your hair are actually twigs and leaves from cleaning up more of your property.
With no need to worry about someone asking you to dance, you instead simply enjoy the various foods prepared for the occasion.
“Be careful, the salsa actually has a pretty good kick.” You’re about to go in for a second helping when a gentle accented voice floats out to you.
Besides you is a man with the kindest eyes you’ve seen. Faintly you recognize his face and can recall seeing him around town.
“Tommy Miller.” He reintroduces himself seeing your slight hesitation and your eyes go big.
“Oh, Maria’s husband!” You fully remember her introducing him to you. But now something else clicks.
He’s Joel’s brother.
“Yup.” He grins proud at his wife’s mention.
You apologize profusely for not remembering him sooner and with a kind understanding smile Tommy reassures you it’s fine.
“Been a busy first month for ya, I get it. You’re a tough cookie handlin’ it all.”
Even though his twang mirrors his brother’s, Tommy already radiates a much different energy than Joel. He’s warm in a way that reminds you of a soft summer day welcoming everyone with his vibrant energy.
You thank him earnestly. “The town’s been good to me.”
A part of you wants to add Joel has been good to you. Weeks ago, you would’ve laughed at just the idea of Joel Miller showing you an emotion other than annoyance. But now you and him seem to slowly be warming up to each other.
“Don’t go stealin’ all the good stuff, y’little shit.” Joel arrives with a gruff grumble of a voice and quickly nudges Tommy.
Yet his eyes remained glued on you.
You also seem to notice how striking Joel looks in the crisp light jean button up shirt he wears.
“Speak of the devil… was just about to ask our new farmer here if ya haven’t scared her away yet.” Tommy jokes.
Joel’s face flickers with a scowl fighting to form but he keeps himself surprisingly composed.
Guilt sinks in your gut. You know he’s hard to read and you even feel bad for thinking he’s mean. Because you’re learning fast Joel is earnest in his own way.
“Nah,” you tell Tommy, answering for yourself and Joel almost. “His sheep are actually scarier than he is.”
Tommy busts out laughing and you grin. Your eyes flicker to Joel but see he isn’t grinning. Instead Joel’s handsome aged face stares at you guarded and you can’t read the emotions shimmering in his eyes.
Shit.
You might have overstepped and upset him. So to physically stop yourself from saying anything else you take a bite out of the delicious cornbread on your plate, wave a weak goodbye to the Miller brothers, and scurry away.
Now alone under the shadow of one of the lovely cherry trees, you’re aware of how new you still are, a fresh bud still trying to foster roots in this new ground. You wonder how your gramps dealt with this every year.
Soon enough, the music starts and Mayor Lewis claps excited ready to begin the dance.
At least this will be over soon.
The couples slowly sway to the soft melody then rustling arrives at your side. Gently your eyes turn to the source and you almost collapse seeing Joel move in besides you.
His eyes though stay on the couples dancing among the blooms.
“Could’ve at least picked better music to dance to.” He mumbles bored.
Your lips press hard trying not to smile ridiculous and wide.
“Could you imagine if someone played the wrong song?” You whisper back. “Like, some heavy metal rock song suddenly started screaming out?”
Joel snorts, masks it with a few coughs, but you did it. You made him laugh.
Golden soaked triumph fills you and it feels like the first morning you woke up and found a sprout peeking up from the dark tilled soil.
He’s a complex man and you’re barely even scratching the surface of him. But it’s a tender start you want to continue kindling.
For all the commotion and production given to the festival, the dance only lasts a few moments. It’s over thankfully fast.
“Bit anticlimactic.” You mutter under your breath.
“Yeah it’s dumb.” Joel deadpans.
Your lips fight from letting out a laugh.
Everyone claps joyously at the couples concluding their dance. You wonder, even as silly as this is, if one day maybe you’ll dance with flowers in your hair. But you don’t give that thought too much attention. Just imaging yourself next spring already seems so far away.
“Headin’ home?” Joel asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You hum, narrowing your eyes at the gorgeous meadow.
“I’m kind of tempted to maybe see if I can steal some of the leftovers but yeah, I’m heading back.” You reply.
“Tell me which food you’re eyein’ and I’ll grab it. No one will tell me no.” He offers and you laugh.
“Tempting as that is, I’m just gonna go home.” You wish Joel a warm good night.
He continues walking alongside you.
Your heart jumps until you realize he lives in the same direction. The chatter from the festival still lingers in the air even while you walk further away from the meadow.
“How do you deal with that every year?” You ask with a sigh.
“Alcohol.” Joel dully answers and you snicker at his reply.
“Maybe one day you’ll be dancin’ out there.” Joel comments like he’s trying to continue the small talk. But the suggestion makes you skin itch for a reason you can’t pinpoint.
You only reply with a simple ‘maybe’ and a shrug.
“I’d pay a hundred bucks to see you dance though.” You joke, but also quickly imagine Joel a picture of softness with a flower behind his ear resting beautifully among his silver curls and it makes your knees weak.
Joel however rolls his eyes.
“Next year we’ll just sneak in and take over the music. See what happens.” You offer.
“Now that sounds like a plan.” Joel agrees gruffly.
It sounds like a promise.
You bid him good night until his eyebrows crinkle so classily grumpy Joel.
“Whadya doin’? Ain’t lettin’ ya walk home alone, sprout. Now come on.”
He continues walking as if nothing while your mind tries to recover being tilted on its axis for a bit.
Joel is walking you home.
And he called you sprout.
You want to cradle this new nickname so tenderly in your hands.
Joel quietly asks about your plans for the upcoming season, almost as if he’s trying to keep you focused.
To settle your flutter heart, you manage to ramble about the new incoming seeds you’ve heard about. You talk about your hopes of going to the beach more, not just to fish but to simply enjoy the ocean.
Among all that discussion, in a blink you’re back at your farm.
Instead of Joel rushing home, he lingers.
He checks your porch almost like he’s making sure the thing still stands.
“Hope one day to see that dang greenhouse up ‘n runnin.” He points to the broken greenhouse and you can’t help but sigh at the sight. You hope so too.
Then Joel moves to stand next to you on the land.
It feels different seeing him here.
Just a few weeks ago he was shouting every profanity known to man trying to fix your ancient water heater. He also glared at you the entire time.
Now he stands next to you suggesting on what to grow for the upcoming season.
“You could plant the tomatoes over on this side, give ‘em more shade to grow.”
Joel already reminds you of a back alley cat, one that hisses and refuses to let others near until he decides when to warm up to others. And, like a fresh new sprout, you want to soak up this warmth of him up.
“Also… Don’t forget to plant flowers.” He adds with a soft grumble.
“I won’t.” You grin impressed he remembered.
When you bid him goodnight and thank him again, you almost want to promise you’ll stop by with coffee tomorrow morning.
However that feels too much, like you might make the wrong move and spook him. But you do want to know if he makes it home okay. You can’t even bring yourself to ask him for his phone number.
So you watch Joel leave until your thoughts move fast and you blurt them out.
“Wait how will I know you made it back?”
Joel suddenly stops then glances back to you.
A very soft twinkle comes over his face and he gives you a crooked grin. It colors him with such a boyish expression. This new face of Joel feels sacred, special, and it steals your breath away.
“Hang outside for a bit. I’ll give ya sign, don’t worry.” He nods then melts into the darkness.
You stay frozen on the spot, not wanting to miss whatever it is. You wait, hoping he makes it back safe. Then out from the darkness, far down the path, you see it.
A light from Joel’s house blazes alive.
Then it flickers on and off, like someone flipping the switch a few times. The movement of it against the darkness even feels like a wave of some sorts.
You wish so badly to wave back.
Reassured that he’s home, you head back feeling as light as a feather.
Stepping onto your porch, something catches your eye.
Resting on the main railing barrier are a batch of tulips that were not there when you left.
Your heart jumps into your throat. You didn’t even see Joel place them there.
Delicately placed, the tulips so brilliantly colored sit warm and bright for you - the most beautiful end to your spring.
Though, in your heart, these blooms feel like something closer to a beginning.
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rs-hawk · 5 months
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what's your opinion on minotaur husband, human reader, and their life living peacefully on their farm together👀
My opinion is that this is that y’all are feeding my Greek mythology obsession.
Minotaur was thought to be dead, and secretly, you wept. He never had a chance. Minos was a cruel king, and the poor bastard child of his wife bore the brunt of it. After all, what kind of brute would rip a child, monstrous or not, out of the arms of his mother and toss it into a labyrinth? He was alone his whole life. At least two decades. You joined the celebrations out of obligation. You were afraid to do anything that might make you seem like a traitor. Minos was cruel, and so were his followers.
However, one day as you made your way to the wheat field to check on a rustling sound, you saw a sight that shocked you. Minotaur, bloody, beaten, broken and bruised, but alive, sprawled in the depths of your field. Your heart leapt. He survived. Somehow, he made it out. Your throat felt dry and your hands trembled as you reached out to touch his neck, feeling for the beating of his heart. For a moment, your heart sank, but then you felt the slight flutter of his barely clinging heart.
You don’t know how you managed it all on your own, but you somehow dragged his limp body to your home. You felt lucky that no one lived with you, because you knew if someone caught you, this was a death sentence. Minos might have been irritated that his toy was dead, but his wrath would be unquenchable if he found out he has escaped.
You did your best to nurse him back to health. He was in a coma, making you afraid to move him too much, but you still wet his lips and pushed spoonfuls of soft foods past his bull lips. Finally, he woke up. Afraid.
“It’s okay! It’s okay,” you assure him sleepily as his movements roused you from your sleep.
He looks at you, narrowing his dark eyes. He snorts as he takes you in, then looks at his surroundings. He looks confused as he examines the blankets and pillows you had used to make a makeshift bed for him. After all, he was too big to fit into yours. He looks back up at you, his head tilted like a confused dog.
“You were hurt, so I brought you here,” you explained, carefully making your way over to him, your heart both aching and racing.
It took a long time, but he finally learned to speak. You would talk long into the night. You don’t know when, but your feelings towards him deepened. You were embarrassed, ashamed, even, but you had to tell him. He was shy, and explained he didn’t think that he could ever be with you.
“Oh. I understand,” you whispered, tears pricking up your eyes.
“After all, I’m a monster. What if I hurt you when we’re…,” he trailed off, and you’re certain that he’s blushing under his fur.
“I don’t mind. I trust you,” you assured him as you grabbed his hands, setting them on your hips. “Couldn’t we try, at least once?”
He snorts, shifting weight on his feet, but how can he say no to you, especially when you’re looking at him like that? He grabs you in his arms, his mouth finding yours quickly. You let out a soft sound as you kiss him back, clinging to him as he drops you on the makeshift bed he slept on unceremoniously. You don’t mind though, because in seconds he’s on top of you, pushing down the tattered shorts he always wore. Your eyes went wide, making you pause as you saw how large he is. You thought he was only bull from the neck up.
He noticed your hesitance and pulled back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-.”
“No! No. We just have to go slow,” you insisted with a smile, tugging him back to you as your hands roam across his back and shoulders.
He used one large finger to tease you open, making you gasp and whine against his lips. Yes, this is exactly what you’ve always needed.
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Text
East Blue Crew modern au!
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Ive been working on this on and off for a while now.
There’s a lot here so [rings dinner bell] come get y’all’s meal
ASL Modern Au Post
Grand Line Crew Modern Au
Friends We Made Along The way post
Friends We Made Along The Way Part 2 post
Additional Headcanons:
Nami needs her own episode on extreme couponers. Sis has an entire binder dedicated to it.
Zoro cannot for the life of him beat Luffy in an arm wrestling match. No matter how much he lifts or trains, he always loses.
Zoro is actually pretty good at grilling. Sanji was pleasantly surprised when the burger that was presented to him wasnt a pile of ash/ so raw its still walking around. One day the two will have a grill off.
Usopp and Luffy love playing yugioh with eachother. Neither of them actually know the rules of the game, they just make it up as they go.
Nami used to collect american girl dolls and she keeps them in a closet in her apartment. One day when usopp luffy and chopper were snooping around, they found the accursed closet and were scared shitless.
Usopp has an ant farm and luffy thinks its the coolest shit.
In this modern au, sanji takes the place of that one guy on tiktok who makes duets with cooking videos, and films until they put the entire block of cream cheese in the crock pot.
Sanji is also this guy
Even though nami has scary dog privilege when walking with zoro, its not just beneficial to her. In fact nami has outlawed zoro from going on walks in general alone, as he would get lost and need nami to walk to him to direct him home. Nami has scary dog privilege and zoro has sense of direction privilege when they walk together
Sanji and Nami rewatch Pretty Little Liars/ Gossip Girl/ Glee/ and other CW drama shows together.
Nami and Usopp always be shit talking someone/something. They are hateful bitches.
How luffy meets each of them:
Zoro- they met each other because the 24 hr gym Zoro works in is right down the street from Luffy’s apartment and one day Luffy was walking by at around 3 am and noticed Zoro in there. Luffy asks him if he wants to join him fucking around at 3 am on the streets of this city area they live in and Zoro accepts after a little convincing from Luffy. When they get outside Zoro’s like
“where’s the rest?”
“Of what?”
“Of your friends”
“Its just you rn”
“… :| i mean, i had assumed you werent alone”
“Nope!”
“HA OkAy”
Nami- they took the same economics course together. They were paired up in a project and hit it off after that and often had study sessions together. Their defining friendship maker though, was they teamed up to steal the answer key to the test they were both definitely going to fail because the class was bullshit.
Usopp- they had taken a graphic design course together. Luffy had no idea what he was doing the entire time and Usopp was very happy that he could impart his wisdom uponst this newcomer to the arts. Although luffy did already have some… incredible(?) art skills of his own already. It was instant chemistry for them honestly, their synergy just clicked and before they knew it, they were besties.
Sanji- works in the restaurant thats underneath the ASL brothers’ apartment complex. Their fist encounter with the restaurant was not of them going in to eat there, though. The trio were throwing around the ol’ pig skin in the street in front of their complex when luffy failed to catch the ball, and accidentally ricocheted it into the front window of the Baratie, through the eating area, over the counter, and into Mr. Zeff’s face. Zeff stormed out of the eatery and asked which of them destroyed his glass and hit him in the head
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And luffy looks over and notices his brothers selling him out and is like “HEY!!! D:” So luffy was stationed as the place’s chore boy and met sanji while working there. 2 years later the debt was repayed, sanji and luffy are friends, and the Baratie is ASL’s fav eating place due to the great food, delightfully violent vibes, and great company.
thats all for now, hope you enjoyed!
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