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majestyeverlasting · 2 months ago

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𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

This piece contains 18+ content Based on this lovely request pairing joel miller x female reader summary when the winds of change scatter the buds of a new, forbidden love, they bloom anew after the end of the world [wc 8k] contains pre & post-outbreak world, dbf age-gap relationship, fluff, smut, mentions of death, angst, hopeful ending

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

“I don't ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside me there'll always be the person I am tonight.”

—F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender Is the Night

Jakarta, Indonesia. An aerial view of a sea of skyscrapers shining in the night. Joel blinks drowsily as he spams the channel button several numbers ahead. If he lingered a second longer, he would’ve seen the overseas news coverage shift to a bustling hospital ward.

A black and white Western plays now; two cowboys fire their weapons in a quick draw. Gunfire from surrounding spectators ensues in a crisp, rapid spray. Sarah pads down the stairs just as a wounded man tumbles backwards over a second-story balcony.

“Dad?” she murmurs.

Joel mutes the movie at her tone. “Everything okay? What’s up?”

She nervously plays with one of her springy curls. “I forgot I had a project due tomorrow,” she says. Joel blinks a few times as if he misheard her. “For Ms. Johnson’s science class. We have to make a 3D plant cell model.”

That prompts him to sit up from his reclined position, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Sarah Noelle.”

“The substitute teacher forgot to remind us today,” she reasons.

“C’mere.” She shuffles closer with big, doe eyes. “I ask if you’ve got homework every day after school, and what did you tell me earlier this evening? Bet you knew about this a week ago.” When her face falls even more, Joel resists his knee-jerk reaction to backtrack and comfort her.

“You gotta stay on top of stuff like this, bug,” he says. “Today it’s a project, but tomorrow it’s rent or a write-up for your job. Can’t hold off on stuff till the last minute.”

“I’m sorry.”

His knees pop as he pushes to his feet. “Don’t gotta apologize,” he says lightly. “We got supplies here?”

“Just stuff like crayons and markers,” she says.

Joel’s chest deflates with a heavy sigh, and Sarah bites her lip as he runs a hand through his hair. There’s more annoyance in his eyes than frustration, but she can understand that. It’s a quarter past nine, and it’s been a long day.

He grabs his phone and hands it to her. After years of owning a BlackBerry, he’d finally switched to an iPhone.

“See what places are open.” She nods gratefully. “And I ain’t mad at ya, alright? We all forget things sometimes.”

Sarah watches as he heads upstairs to change out of his pajama pants. As soon as he disappears, she taps into the message app.

Joel (9:17 PM) Are you awake?

You (9:19 PM) Sarah?

Joel (9:19 PM) Yeah it’s me! I forgot I had a project due!!! You know about plant cells right?

You (9:20 PM) Loaded question. I know enough, lol.

Joel (9:21 PM) Can you come help?? We’re about to go out for supplies

The night air is warm. Sarah trails Joel to the truck but doesn’t get in after rounding to her side. He watches her through the window as he starts the engine. She’s staring next door to Cal’s house, and he doesn’t know why until you slip out the front door, ready for an adventure.

It’s September now, and they’d attended your graduation back in May.

You’d moved back in with your dad a week ago. The two of you had butt heads in the time leading up to your college departure, and you didn’t see a lot of each other during those four years. You were finally starting to come back around. So much of his strictness and rigidity was born out of love, even if that truth got muddled along the way.

Not only was the move a means of saving money and rekindling your relationship, but Austin had way more opportunities than the college town you left.

Joel’s eyes fall on you as you slide into the passenger seat, all nonchalance and ease. A pleasant, floral scent drifts his way when you bend forward to set your purse on the floor.

“Long time no see, stranger,” you say.

“Guess somebody got phoned as backup,” Joel says as he pulls out of the driveway, one arm resting on the center console.

“Can’t blame a girl for employing all her resources.” You peek back at Sarah and share a smile.

Joel huffs an amused sound. “Cal asleep yet?”

“He’s hanging on by a thread,” you say. “Told him I was going out to smoke pot at the lake like old times.”

Sarah snorts at that, and Joel meets her gaze in the rearview with an unimpressed look.

“Dad, I’m twelve, not two.”

“Y'all are gonna make me go gray.”

“What are you, forty-five, forty-six?" you ask. "I’m pretty sure that’s already starting to happen.” You reach over to playfully twirl a strand of hair at the nape of his neck.

His shoulders square as he fights a shiver. Sarah is none the wiser as her laughter carries from the backseat.

•••

Broad-shouldered in the dim light of the kitchen, Joel stands at the sink, washing dried glue from his hands as he hums a low tune. The gentle rush of the water prevents him from hearing you as you tiptoe up behind him. Sarah went to bed fifteen minutes ago when the two of you insisted you’d handle cleanup. All things considered, the cell model turned out decent for such a late notice.

Joel jerks when you poke a finger into his side. You’re fixed with an exasperated glare as you withdraw your touch with an innocent smile. Then, foolishly, he redirects his gaze back to the sink. You promptly deliver a poke to his other side that makes him curl in on himself.

“Would you quit that?” he asks, voice tight with the threat of a laugh.

“No.”

Even then, he smiles as he dries his hands. You rest your forearms on the island and watch. When his eyes find yours, there’s a weight to your gaze. Joel doesn’t fight against the flutter in his gut. It’d been a couple of years since he had.

“Thanks for comin’ over for her,” he says.

“You know I’ve always gotta pull through for my little bestie.”

Joel chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck, eyes roving over you. “Never got to properly ask how you’ve been settling in,” he says. “Got stuck talkin’ about chloroplasts and ribosomes all night.”

“And the endoplasmic reticulum,” you quip.

“Can’t forget the good ole ER.”

The two of you share a hushed laugh. The crinkles around Joel’s eyes make your chest expand with a warmth that no longer feels so wrong.

“I’m good, though,” you say. “Even though I have no idea what the hell I’m doing half the time.” The air shifts as you sigh.

“I don’t think any of us do,” Joel hums.

“It’ll get better,” he assures. “Wish I could tell you when, but one day you’ll look around and realize you’ve got a better grasp on things.” He thinks for a moment. “On who you are and who you wanna be.”

The gruff honesty of Joel’s words makes it easy to believe him.

After a few quiet beats, he twists an arm behind himself to scratch a tricky spot on his back. Unfortunately, his inflexibility hinders him.

Wordless, you step up alongside him and raise your hand to rake your fingernails just beneath his shoulder blades. He immediately relaxes with a grateful exhale. Your touch remains after the itch dissipates, shifting into steady passes of your palm along his back. Joel can’t find it in himself to break the still intimacy of the moment. When he does, the sense of loss is immediate.

“Appreciate it.” Joel clears his throat. “It’s gettin’ pretty late.”

Outside, there’s a quiet symphony of insects. A few moths fly around Joel’s porch light. The wood creaks under your footsteps as you head towards the stairs. Joel stops at the top, while you step down. He expects you to continue to your house, but you turn around to peer up at him with those knowning eyes of yours.

“Go on,” he encourages, tapping your chin with a gentle knuckle.

Your lashes flutter.

“Go.” His voice comes out thicker.

“Alright, alright.” The smallest smile curls at your lips. “I’m going, Mr. Miller.”

•••

Every once in a while, a night came along that reminded him that sleeplessness was never too far away. Never did he suspect it’d be because of Cal’s kid. Autopilot gets him through his morning routine, and, before long, he stands in a sunlit kitchen.

The coffee machine whirs as it fills his mug, the rich, nutty smell slowly permeating the air.

Sarah trudges over to snake her arms around his waist. He smiles when she nuzzles her face into his shirt with a sleepy groan, breathing him in.

Joel blows into the mug and takes a small sip. She holds out a hand for it next.

“S’hot,” he warns, but passes it over. A baby sip is enough to make her face scrunch in distaste. “Still no bueno?”

She shakes her head. He chuckles and squeezes her. “Uncle Tommy should be here soon. We’ll grab you a bite to eat on the way.”

Sarah makes a satisfied sound, steals his phone from his front pocket, and stalks away.

Joel (7:23 AM) It was really good seeing you last night

You (8:19 AM) Likewise <3

You hadn’t bothered asking if it was Sarah. Deep down, you knew it was, but you would’ve welcomed those words from Joel all the same, if not more.

He’s the one who ends up reading your reply.

•••

Come late Monday afternoon, the Miller brothers finish setting the last fence panel as fluffy white clouds roll in to shield Austin from the full brunt of the sun.

Back at home, Joel showers and eats leftovers. When he hits the living room again, he steps on a dainty hoop earring that he realizes is his ticket back to you.

A helicopter flies overhead as you get out of your car. The teenage boys playing basketball in the cul-de-sac gawk up towards the sky with exaggerated wonder. A presence wades into your periphery once you reach your trunk.

Joel stops a few yards away, still standing in the plush grass between your lots.

“I got it.” He gestures to the grocery bags and waits for your permission.

You step aside. “Thanks.”

Cal hasn’t made it home from the office yet, but inside, Joel moves as if his friend is bound to round the corner at any moment. After setting all the grocery bags on the kitchen island, he fishes into his pocket.

“Think I have something of yours.” He presents the earring in the palm of his large hand. “Look familiar?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Yes, oh my gosh.” You take it from him without hesitation. “Dude.” Joel's eyes soften as you gush. “Thank you so much.”

“‘Course.” He rubs his palms against his jeans and takes an easy look around. It’s quiet.

“How was work?” Your tone is genuine.

“Good. We, uh, had a fence job,” Joel starts with a shrug. “You know that new housing development on the other side of the lake?” He points in the general direction, and you nod. “A couple just moved in. Real nice lot.”

He gets a shy look about him for expounding, but you only smile as you unbag the groceries. “I think I’d tap out after getting the first couple pickets into the ground,” you admit.

“S’just patience and practice.”

“Imagine someone like me building a fence.” You motion a sorry hand down your body.

He takes you in. Perhaps, more earnestly than he should. You’re wearing a tennis skirt and a baby tee. Your skin looks soft. The air shifts.

As you grab a can of tomato paste to take to the pantry, you let your backside brush against Joel’s crotch with more pressure than necessary. He instinctively hovers a hand at your waist but takes a respectful step back as his cheeks warm.

After you put everything away, you study him. “I appreciate everything you said the other night about things getting better,” you say. “Sarah’s lucky to have you.”

Joel tucks his head down as if the compliment will fly over him and stick to something else. But it hits him square in the chest, seeps into his ribcage, and forces him to feel it. No matter how many houses or fences he raised, sidewalks or driveways he framed, Sarah would always be the best thing to come out of his efforts.

“I started pushing my dad away around that age,” you say. “It means something that she still thinks the world of you.”

You move to stand in front of Joel. He doesn’t back away. Not even when you pluck an invisible piece of lint off his shirt, then smooth a hand down his sturdy chest. The alarm bells are distant in your head, but chime louder in his.

Joel knows he should be the one to walk away, but reasons that there’s no harm in your crush. Before long, you’d find your footing in the world, and your focus would be swept elsewhere. The attention was nice as long as he didn’t bite back. You’d been biting since you were twenty.

This time around is different, however.

You take a chance and raise a hand to his scruffy cheek. “I think quite highly of you myself,” you murmur.

Joel doesn't push you away when you lean in to capture his lips with your own.

His eyes flutter closed as he dares to reciprocate. Everything about him is impossibly gentle, from the way his large hands settle on your waist to the fragile way he kisses as if you’ll fall apart. A silent war rages within him all the while. The brush of his scruff is prickly, but his lips are softer than you imagined. He tastes like spearmint gum.

You startle away from him as another helicopter passes in the sky. The picture frames rattle. You lean in with the intent to continue kissing Joel, but he recedes up the shore instead of running towards the sea.

There’s a reluctant finality to the way he pushes you away by the hip and runs a hand over his mouth. It’s as if he’s attempting to rid himself of the feeling of your lips, except it doesn’t go away. Neither does the cloud of want clear from his vision.

“I should go.” His tone doesn’t match his words, but he steps forward to leave nonetheless.

You’re right there to block his way. There’s enough space to weave around you, but he pretends you’re keeping him here when he’s never in his life been pinned down by anyone or anything.

“Go where?” you challenge lightly. “Is Sarah home?”

Joel considers lying, but you’ve only ever drawn the truth out of him. “At a friend’s.”

“Then what’s the rush?” Your eyes don’t leave his. “Quit denying yourself for once in your life.”

Joel’s throat works. “This ain’t right.”

“It’s not wrong.”

Right and wrong. Good and evil. And now you’ve proposed a middle ground that, coming from you, sounds like a lovely place to be.

You slip a hand beneath the hem of Joel’s shirt, grazing your fingernails down the pudge of his belly. It’s a maddening, lighthearted gesture.

“The middle’s not so bad,” you insist. “We can make it good.”

•••

Joel loses his mind at some point between his front door and his bedroom. With the way you touch him, and tease him, and smile into too-short kisses, he never stood a chance. He’s heard all the jokes about what it takes to keep up with a pretty young thing, but now he’s living it himself. You’re both naked and wanting in his bed.

He’d had the upper hand for a short while, nestling between your thighs until you came undone around his thick, skillful fingers.

A lovely flush colors his neck and upper chest as he prepares to rip open the foil package of a condom. Before he can make a clean tear, you reach out to take it from him.

“May I?” Your smile is sweet.

Joel admires your French manicure as you pull the condom out, taking your precious time. His stomach flips when you meet his gaze again because the upturn of your lips now flirts with mischief. Impatience flickers in his chest as his want only grows.

“Ain’t got all evening,” he says, voice thick but light.

“I know you don’t.” The tip of your index finger finds the pearly bead along his slit, spreading it in a slow circle that makes his stomach quiver. “Practically about to fall apart on me right now,” you lilt.

Joel’s exasperation rises as a weak huff of laughter. He knows there’s nothing clever or provocative he can say to inspire a sense of haste within you. So he settles on the truth since it’s the only stripped, shaky thing left alongside his desire.

“I'm achin', sweetheart.”

The raw quality of his voice harkens mercy from somewhere amid your fun. The stars over Austin align in time with your careful roll of the condom down the veiny strain of his need. Joel trembles through it, jaw tightening when you seal the deal by reaching down between his legs to massage the delicate, hanging weight of him.

Without warning, Joel pushes you backwards, and your head meets the pillows as he crowds over you. It’s as if invisible chains have been broken. He braces one hand near your face to the flustered sound of your giggles while he gingerly grips himself with the other. A dark thatch of curls rests at his base. Your legs fall open wider for him with ease.

Your breath hitches when he bumps his tip against your swollen bud, then glides down to catch at your waiting entrance. There’s no further hesitation or preamble. Joel’s eyes meet yours in silent acknowledgement that your relationship will never be the same.

There’s no mourning, only your joint sighs as he eases into your warmth. It’s a slow, snug push that leaves you no choice but to be aware of every solid inch of him, every vein and ridge. The initial stretch makes way for the dizzying relief of fullness. Joel burrows until he’s encompassed so wholly that he can’t go any further, exhaling your name.

Your face scrunches as he begins to pull back out in a careful drag. Your hands grip his shoulders as your legs hook around him.

“Joel.” It’s an awed, desperate sound.

"I gotcha," he soothes. "Easy does it."

A whimper escapes you as he finds a deep, measured rhythm. He’s reaching a tender place within you that shouldn’t be allowed to feel this good. Your mouth opens like you have something to say, but nothing comes out.

“Lost all your words?” He has the nerve to ask as if his voice doesn’t sound punched-out. “Had so much to—Christ—so much to say a minute ago.”

The rugged weight of him, paired with his body heat and the skilled thrusts of his hips, continues to render you speechless for the first time in a long time. All you know at this moment is him. It’s lovely and terrifying all the same.

Joel slows, realizing you need it. “Breathe for me, babygirl.”

He leans down to kiss your neck, scruff brushing your skin. His lips are soft enough to make you shiver and clench around him.

“S’just me,” he assures into your ear, voice like velvet.

Joel had seen you grow into the person you are today. Not only that, but he had done so without treating you like your maturity and intelligence stagnated at some point in the past when you were merely the younger girl next door.

“Just you,” you whimper in confirmation.

“Feel so good, you know that?” He gently thumbs over one of your pebbled nipples.

You arch, face hot. “Think so.”

He chuckles.

When you meet his eyes and see how dark and gone they are, you can’t help but laugh too, breathless. Joel places a steady hand on your hip to ground himself as you clench.

He exhales as his forehead touches yours. “Gonna make me come with all that giggling,” he whispers against your lips, then nuzzles your cheek. “Already teased me to goddamn pieces.”

“Maybe I want you to come.” Boldness settles beneath your skin as the pleasant knot in your stomach grows tighter. “You’re so big… can feel you everywhere.”

You miss the mark for Joel’s mouth and land a clumsy kiss on his chin. You lower a shaky hand from his shoulders and allow your middle finger to find your swollen bud. The firm, slippery circles make warmth pool between your thighs.

“Gonna try something, alright?” he coos in his low timbre. All you can do is nod earnestly.

One by one, Joel guides your legs over his shoulders so your calves frame his neck. You gasp as he sinks even deeper than before.

“That the spot, sweetheart?”

Soon, you can’t hold out any longer.

The rope snaps, and your walls flutter around him in unrhythmic pulses as your lips part. The rest of the world disappears, only to crash back in at Joel’s final pointed thrust. A guttural sound escapes him as he lets go. You watch the way his eyebrows furrow and his arms flex. The way his stomach clenches with each wave that rips through him.

It feels like you’re floating somewhere where real-life struggles and confusions can’t reach you. Here, everything makes sense. Everything is good down to the bone. And the best part is, you’re not alone; you’re drifting through this perfect place with Joel.

As September winds closer to its end, it wouldn't be the last time.

•••

One of Joel’s hands rests on Sarah’s shoulder while the other holds his phone to his ear. He can barely make out Tommy’s next sentence as a military plane flies overhead in the evening sky. The driveway shakes to the sound of the engine and the sirens wailing in the distance. Joel lets go of her in favor of plugging his opposite ear.

“You should’ve called me, Tommy... now you’ve got her out there in this crap… I didn’t say you weren’t capable of protecting her… Yeah, I know where it is. We’re on our way.”

As Joel hangs up, all he can think is, so much for a happy birthday—Tommy got arrested, you bailed him out, and it’s the beginning of the end.

He redirects his attention to Sarah. “It’s gonna be okay, bug. Gonna meet ‘em at the old commuter lot just before you get downtown.”

She nods even though her heart is beating in her ears.

“There are a lot of scared people out there right now. Might see some things. Gonna need to be brave for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, voice wavering. “Can I use the bathroom first?”

“Lightning fast.”

She jogs back into the house. Joel climbs into his truck, keeping a hopeful eye out for your dad. He doesn’t get the chance to call him again because his Mustang screeches to a stop in front of the driveway.

Cal sees red as he walks towards Joel’s door, dressed in his work suit and Oxfords.

“My daughter, man? Fucking Grace?”

That’s what he wanted to name you. The joke became that raising you took a lot of grace on his part, especially after your mom walked out of your lives. Joel knew the story.

“Get the hell out of this goddamn truck and talk to me like a man.”

Cal flings the door open, and Joel’s face is hot with embarrassment, guilt, and frustration. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry right now, Cal,” he asserts as he slides out. “Something’s going on.”

“I’m sitting in traffic, when ding—a lovey ass text makes me double take. Then I get a, ‘Sorry, wrong person’ like it’s no big fucking deal.” Cal shakes his head. “You. It was meant for you.”

“Cal, listen—”

“I trusted you all these years. Let you into my home.”

He shoves Joel. Hard. Joel takes it.

“You sick fuck.”

Joel’s shoulders sink as he holds his hands up. “Cal, please…” He racks his brain for a quick explanation, but nothing comes.

That’s when the door to the Adlers' house swings open, and Mrs. Adler comes staggering out. Her gait is strikingly abnormal, oddly stable but in a jerky, disoriented way. Her head twitches as she catalogs the sounds around her, face more gaunt than Joel has ever seen it.

“The hell are you looking at?” Cal barks, pinning Joel to the truck.

At the outburst, Mrs. Adler starts towards them in a clumsy shuffle.

“Bigger fucking fish, Cal,” Joel grouses. “Turn your thick skull around.” Joel finally manages to shove him off, and he stumbles with enough force to fall.

Mrs. Adler speeds up at the prospect of an easy target, but before she can lunge for Cal, Joel grabs a brick from the stack near the garage and hurls it at her head. The impact disorients her enough for Cal to scramble to his feet with a string of expletives. Joel grabs the sledgehammer from the bed of his truck and delivers a fatal blow to the woman’s head.

“Is that Mrs. Adler?” Cal says in horror. “Is the rest of the family okay? Shit, we gotta check.”

“It ain’t worth it, Cal—”

But Cal doesn’t listen. He marches straight into the house.

Further down the street, a fire hydrant shoots water like a geyser as a car crashes into it. Joel reluctantly trails after him until he hears Cal’s pained screams erupt from the inside. A sound loud enough to make his blood run cold.

Sarah hurries back out of the house carrying a photo album she didn’t have before. She stops at the sight of Mrs. Adler’s crumbled frame. Cal’s Mustang registers, then the screams.

“Get in the truck, Sarah,” Joel urges. “Right now, bug, get in the truck.”

The tone of his voice spurs her into action. Joel slides behind the wheel with ringing ears. His hands shake as he starts the engine and banks to the right to avoid Cal’s Mustang as he drives off the bump of the curb.

“Were those Cal’s screams?” Sarah asks, frozen in the passenger seat. Joel remains quiet, eyes glued to the road. “Why aren’t you answering me? Dad?”

Joel’s phone rings, displaying your name. His hands still haven’t stopped trembling as he raises the device to his ear.

“Joel? Hey,” you say, light but focused. “Tommy and I are almost at the commuter lot.” Joel hums in acknowledgement, scared his voice will betray him. “My dad says he’s swinging by the house first, but knows to meet us there.”

“Sarah and I are en route.”

He can feel his daughter’s gaze boring into him when he hangs up.

“You didn’t tell her?”

“That’s not the kind of conversation you have over the phone,” Joel justifies, his voice thick but measured. “‘Specially at a time like this.”

Sarah swipes the tear that slips down her cheek.

Cal’s life isn’t the only one lost that day.

Joel and Sarah never reach the commuter lot, but you and Tommy do.

From then on, the world is never the same.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

Maroon, gold, indigo. Pale streaks of colored light span in thin bands over the empty pews of the chapel as the sun shines through the mosaic windows. On the stage, a short way behind the pulpit, stands an empty wooden cross.

Your gaze remains on your arms, where they rest crossed over your stomach. The few tears that once streamed down your cheeks have dried in stiff trails. You hadn’t bothered swiping them away.

You hadn’t prayed either.

Coming here usually meant something akin to that: sitting in silence with your eyes closed as the room’s serenity washed over your unspoken words. You weren’t expecting any kind of miracle. Waking up in Jackson, Wyoming every day already was one.

A long, quiet squeak rises from behind you, followed by the rattle of a closing door. You don’t look over your shoulder as footsteps pad in, but you grow intrigued when they freeze. Upon turning around, a young girl with a ponytail stands at the back of the sanctuary, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” she says, mindful of her volume. “I didn’t think anybody was in here.”

You shake your head and face forward again. Her footsteps retreat, then she changes her mind. You listen to the swish of her pants as she grows closer and closer. Soon, the pew creaks as she sits beside you. It’s quiet for a while.

“Does he listen?” she murmurs, eyes on the cross. Her voice carries a hopeful hint of wonder beneath the quiet default of disbelief.

“I like to think so.”

She relaxes back into the seat, puffy coat rustling.

“I’m Ellie.”

•••

Spring nears before long.

A cheerful bark of laughter emits from your right, while Tommy’s gaze bores into you from the left. You can sense him even as you stare into what’s left of your blackberry moonshine.

In contrast to how you feel, the Tipsy Bison is alive with an early evening crowd. The bartender bounces around to those seated alongside you, fulfilling refills and carting away empty glasses. You don’t look at Tommy until he knocks his knee against yours. His eyes look painfully like Joel’s under the dim glow of the string lights.

“Can’t run from him forever,” he says.

You rest your elbow on the counter and pinch the bridge of your nose because you know he’s right.

When Joel arrived with Ellie a few months ago, the three of you sat in Tommy’s living room to catch up. An hour that went on to become the most harrowing of your lives.

It’s where you learned that you had two more stones to add to the cairn of remembrance in your mind; one for your father, another for Sarah.

You built walls around yourself after Outbreak Day. Not letting anything or anyone become significant enough to settle beneath your skin. Never again would you relive the feeling of leaving everything you loved behind: the city, your friends, your father.

Joel.

He was the source of so much to you when you needed it the most. Wisdom, comfort, affection, and validation wrapped in a package with the kindest eyes.

Those last few weeks of summer with him constitute the last of your old-world memories. You were bitter that you couldn’t press rewind. Bitter that Joel had been taken from you—that he’d broken his promise that everything would be alright.

In the haze of your naivety, you had built him up in your mind as ever-dependable. When the world laughed at your appointment, dethroning that idea of him felt like destroying a part of yourself.

That evening at Tommy’s, Joel met your gaze and uttered a hoarse apology for everything he never said.

Outbreak day had been an impossible situation that forced everyone to make impossible decisions. Except you refused to believe he’d made the right ones.

If he were a religion, your words were a renunciation of the faith:

“Damn your sorrys,” you said. “Do you know how many years I’ve spent holding out hope that my dad was still alive?” Joel tucked his head down. “Hell, that you and Sarah were still alive, Joel.”

“Was gonna tell you at the lot.” His voice was a murmur of pain and regret.

“But you never made it to the lot, did you?” Both brothers stilled at that. “And I’ve been walking around for years with a hope I now know was false.

“At least you had closure for your losses. At least they were real to you, and not some perpetual fucking maybe weighing you down every day of your life.” Tears had begun to stream down your cheeks.

Joel hadn’t flinched at a single word. He sat there like a stone, eyes broken. Tommy had to encourage you outside for some fresh air.

“He’s hurting too,” the younger Miller eventually said as he stood on the porch with you.

The Tipsy Bison fades back in around you as Tommy speaks up again.

“You know that knot in your chest you walk around with every day?” he questions. Your jaw ticks. “It ain’t gonna go away till you learn how to forgive.”

Aside from the revelation of Joel having known about your father’s death, the knowledge of Sarah’s death was another part of that night at Tommy’s that haunts you.

They never made it to the commuter lot because she had ended up dying in her his arms. By the time Joel did arrive, late and alone, all cellular networks had stopped functioning. Clouds of smoke rose from various fires. Chaos reigned as king.

By then, Tommy had already made the executive decision to leave without them, assuming the worst.

•••

The night of the spring fling, Joel stays in. He’d brought a tray from his workroom into the living room to whittle the finishing touches of the small horse figure he’d started a few days ago. He looks up when three knocks sound at the door.

The one person he’s not expecting to see is you.

“Hi,” you murmur.

His eyes are simultaneously unreadable and full of emotion behind his glasses.

“Hey.”

“Is it okay if we talk?”

Joel opens the door wider, and you take it as permission to step inside. Though his arm twitches, he doesn’t help you out of your jean jacket when you begin to shrug it off. But he does hang it on the rack for you.

“I was just sittin’ right in here…” he trails off and reclaims his spot on the couch. You follow, but opt for the accent chair.

Joel doesn’t know why he suddenly feels embarrassed—if that’s the right word to assign to the feeling. He’s suddenly hyper-aware of himself as he sits in his pajamas, with likely disheveled hair. It’s so quiet he can hear the refrigerator’s hum from the kitchen, the sound your clothes make as you shift.

You don’t know how to talk to him anymore. It’d once been so easy. A bit thrilling, even. He’d always listen and react in that distinct way of his, always ready to dish out a quip or a sarcastic remark when you got too big for your britches.

He’s not that man anymore. More of his hair has gone silver, and his face has aged slightly. His gaze carries a new intensity, like he’s alert and aware of everything.

“Is that a horse?”

It takes Joel a few seconds to realize you’re talking to him. He hums in confirmation.

“Nice,” you say honestly.

You hate yourself for dancing around the elephant in the room. But Joel’s right there with you, both of you clinging onto the same lifesaver in the middle of the sea.

“You can have it.” He shifts like he’s about to hand it to you, but you walk over to join him on the couch instead.

“How long did it take?”

“‘Bout six hours.”

As he turns it over in his hands and points out specific details, tears well in your eyes at the thoughtful cadence of his voice, the occasional way he pushes his glasses up his nose with an index finger.

By the time he stops talking and sets the horse on the coffee table in front of you, you’re crying. Joel noticed your tell-tale sniffles long before, but there’s a sympathetic flutter in his ribs as you actually begin to wipe your tears.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you murmur, voice cracking.

The weak question breaks through Joel’s internal debate to leave your side to get you a tissue.

You’d been avoiding him, but he wasn’t avoiding you. Not exactly.

Ellie doesn’t know all the details about you and Joel’s past, but you’ve crossed paths consistently since meeting her at the chapel. Almost every time you were together for a game night, movie night, or crafts at the community center, she mentioned that Joel either asked about you or said hello. Every time, it broke your heart even more.

What brought you to his door tonight is a quiet act of service that made it impossible to stay away. Word had gotten around about the broken fence gate in the front of your house. Joel took it upon himself to fix it while you were working a shift at the stables. On his off day, in the cold, no less.

You’d been treating him like he was invisible for months.

“I care about you,” he finally says, swallowing.

“I’ve been horrible to you.”

Joel doesn’t agree or disagree, just lifts a weak shoulder as if to acknowledge that things have simply been the way they’ve been.

Your entire face burns with shame. “I don’t know how to say sorry, but that’s all I’ve been.”

Your mind spins as you attempt to find a more eloquent way to express that, but a deep stillness overtakes you as Joel pulls you into his embrace.

It’s not neat or composed. You sink into him, face tucked into his chest, mere inches away from where his heart beats behind his ribs. Damp splotches of tears darken his gray shirt. You’ve missed his scent, the safety of his arms.

Maybe you’d stayed away because you couldn’t bear to lose it all again.

Time escapes both of you, and you let it.

You finally straighten up, and Joel brings a gentle hand to your face to wipe the remnants of your tears. The urge to lean into his warm, calloused palm overcomes you. Your eyes are heavy as you turn your head to pucker your lips against it in a featherlight kiss.

Then you take his hand in both of yours, pressing more kisses to his fingers and turning his hand over to pay his scarred knuckles the same mind. Joel’s entire arm tingles from the attention. You scoot yourself even closer to his side.

He leans back into the cushions, Adam’s apple bobbing, heavy eyes watching you. It’s almost like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Your touch disappears right after his eyes flutter closed.

You study his brow bone, his nose, the relaxed pout of his mouth.

Joel opens his eyes, accepting that this moment of affection may’ve reached its end. But he’s grateful it happened at all. He hadn’t been touched so tenderly since five years ago in Austin with you.

The two of you hold each other's gaze as a deafening silence stretches between you. A dog barks somewhere in the distance.

The couch dips as you carefully move to straddle him. His weathered hands tentatively grip your waist as you settle on his lap. You’re beautiful in the lamplight. Beautiful all the time. History knows he’s terrible at denying you.

Joel straightens from his reclined position and speaks what you both desperately want to say.

“I’ve missed you.”

It was a dangerous thing to want something in this world. To crave, to long. But tonight you do because you have each other to satiate the thrum.

You carefully pull his glasses off his face and set them aside. He blinks to reacclimate his eyes.

“Can you still see me?” you murmur.

“I see you, babygirl.”

You lean in to kiss his nose, then his lips.

Your joint breaths are uneven when you pull away from the kiss that nearly took them away. You stay close, nose to nose, quietly alive with the proximity.

Your tongue pokes out to gently trace his lower lip as if it’s enough to truly get another taste. You move to kiss the corner of his mouth, then trail an eager line of kisses to his jaw. His fingers dig into your waist when you lower your head to mouth beneath his ear.

As soon as he shivers, a small sound catching in his throat, you draw back. Not just away from his neck, but you ease yourself all the way down to the rug, where you spread his legs and kneel between them. You palm his bulge through his pajama pants one gentle time before your fingers curl into the waistband.

“You don’t gotta—”

“Please? I want to.”

After shucking his pants and boxers to the floor, you waste no time kissing up his fuzzy inner thighs. You don’t stop when you reach his arousal, gripping him at the base to kiss up the veined underside until reaching the flushed mushroom head. Joel’s legs quiver and fall open wider when you take him into your mouth.

There’s no teasing, no delay. You look up at Joel through your lashes, where the almost pained scrunch of his eyebrows tells you you’re making it good for him.

So much so, tension coils low in his gut, and his sac draws up in warning. He encourages you back up to his lap with a hand to your cheek.

Upon standing, you step out of your jeans and panties while holding his heavy-lidded gaze. When you settle back onto his thighs, you pull your shirt over your head, and he gently cups one of your breasts. Your soft hum prompts him to dip his head to kiss your nipple gingerly, then suckle it into his mouth. He’s painfully reverent and gentle.

As he lifts his head to switch to the other, you duck in to kiss him, nice and slow. When your fingertips find the hem of his shirt, he gently grasps your wrists. A thin string of saliva slinks between your mouths as you pull away.

“Everything okay?” you breathe, gaze searching.

“S’just... I got some scars.” He’s unsure if he says it so you’re not caught off guard, or because a small, self-conscious part of him has arisen.

You bring a hand to his cheek and brush your thumb over his scruff. “That’s okay.”

“Alright.”

Once he’s bare, your fingers map over the healed cuts and small divots scattered across the skin of his torso, each with its own story. It’s not as bad as you expected, just enough to give him a more rugged edge. He’s hairier now, across his chest and leading down from his navel to the wiry curls at his base.

You reach between your bodies and give Joel a few easy strokes before rising onto your knees and guiding him to your entrance. You run his thick head through your folds to collect the pooled wetness. Joel reaches down to make sure you’re ready for him and twitches in your grasp when his fingers easily slip around.

You’re so slick, gentle pressure alone is enough to breach your entrance. You shudder when he circles your clit in a few focused passes before settling his hands back on your waist.

Joel’s hold remains steady as you ease down onto him. He watches himself disappear in your warmth. When you’re filled all the way, you sigh at the overwhelming stretch.

Your hips circle a few practiced times as you get acclimated to welcoming him, anyone, after so long. As the delicious dull ache makes way for pleasure, you raise back up and sink back down. Joel's hands knead your backside and smooth up to your shoulder blades as you set a pace.

He sits there and relishes what you give him, occasionally shifting or raising his hips to complement you.

“Not gonna last,” he breathes against your lips. “You feel too good. Been so long.”

“Me neither,” you exhale, reaching down to rub circles over yourself.

Under your body and the intoxicating roll of your hips, it isn’t long before Joel feels a strong, hot tug low in his gut.

“Sweetheart,” he rasps, gripping your hips to slow them. “M’close, lift up.”

“It’s okay.”

You brush a kiss along his cheek and circle one of his nipples with the pad of your finger. Panic licks within him even as he helplessly shudders.

“Mmmh—sweetheart.”

“I promise it’s okay,” you whisper. “I know my body. Always track my cycle.”

“You sure?” Joel’s brows pinch when you clench involuntarily.

“Positive.” You move his hands to rest further up your waist, then grip his shoulders as you fall back into a rhythm.

Pleasure swells between you so intensely that there is no more holding back.

Joel’s warm, muscular thighs tremble, then flex beneath you as he cants his hips upwards and allows throaty sound to escape him. His stomach tightens as he empties himself into you with an awed utterance of your name.

The way he pulses inside of you makes you let go, walls fluttering around him as pleasure radiates from your core down into the apex of your thighs. You rest your dewy forehead against his as you ride out the aftershocks that render you spent.

The sense of fondness and relief that washes over you is so great that you have to run your hands down Joel’s broad chest to make sure he’s real. His palm splays in the center of your back, keeping you near.

He’s got you now.

And you could begin again.

•••

Behind the chapel, Joel sits on a wooden bench alone. A breeze blows through as he gazes at the snow-capped peaks of the mountains. It’s quiet for an afternoon in Jackson, but he has no complaints. Some days were like that, slow-moving all around, as if a spell of stillness had chosen to settle.

As he waits, he turns over a tan rock in his hand, the edges so smooth it almost looks fake.

With the weather warming, he could get away without a jacket today. The forest green flannel he wears complements his dark wash jeans. He’d also combed his hair back with a natural gel.

Before he left the house, Ellie had eyed him knowingly.

"Who's the lucky lady?" she teased.

"Take a wild guess," he said. "I'll be back in a few hours."

Joel doesn’t look over his shoulder when grass crunches beneath the footsteps behind him. A smile tugs at his lips when they pause, then grow slower and lighter.

The world goes dark as two soft hands cover his eyes from behind, smelling faintly of lemon balm. You lower your lips to his ear as if you’re about to say something, but end up laughing, light and flustered. Joel can’t help but chuckle.

A feigned sigh of frustration leaves you as you give up, rounding the bench to sit beside him instead. Joel looks over at you, soft crinkles beside his sparkling eyes.

“It’s not funny,” you say lightly. “I was gonna try to pull the whole ‘guess who’ thing, but then I panicked and realized it’d be extremely obvious.”

“Woulda played along,” Joel says easily.

You know he would’ve. Levity was seeping in between the cracks more and more every day. It was nice to give in to a sense of play again.

“You’re early,” you say, letting your knee touch his. “It’s not even noon.”

He reads the face of his watch. “So are you.”

Your eyes drift to the rock he’s holding. “You found such a pretty one.”

Upon pulling yours from your tote bag, it’s smaller with more rigid edges. But it’s a nice rock, nonetheless.

“Ready?”

“Your turn to pick the spot,” you say.

He’s had enough time to think about it. You follow him a few yards into the overgrown grass. Grunting softly, he leans down to place his rock on top of the lone tree stump standing there. You balance your smaller one on top of his. For Sarah, for Cal. Stepping back a couple of paces makes them seem so small.

A moment of silence arises. You reach for his hand, a small gesture led by your pinkie. He takes your hand like every other fourth Thursday of the month at various locations around the commune.

The previous month’s cairns seldom remain standing where you leave them, but you never mind. It’s no more about permanence than it is about showing up. Remembering. Setting aside time for one another’s shared grief.

“Not gonna lie,” you start softly.

Joel looks over at you, ready to listen.

“The lunch menu’s not too shabby today.”

An amused puff of air leaves his nose. “S’that right?”

As you return to the bench to sit together a while longer, the wind blows, a refreshing whisper reminding you that you’re still here.

Thanks so much for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I promise I see them all!

JOEL MASTERLIST

ALL MASTERLISTS

#joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us season 2 #pedro pascal

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threeacttragedy · 7 months ago

Text

Entry 8: The One About the Adjacent of Convenience

Are you guys ready to return to our regularly scheduled programme?

Actually, I must applaud the majority of the people who read my blog for how well they handled Sunday. It seemed many of you got a good laugh out of it and were then gifted Monday morning with an updated post from that dear restauranteur tossing out Lady Whistledown’s name for – honestly, I don’t know why he threw it out there. Do you?

Moving on…

Yesterday, I discussed Antonia. Today, I am going to venture over to the other side of the fandom and discuss – you guessed it – Jake Dunn.

And, no, I’m not summoning the Balrog today. In fact, I don’t equate Jake to a creature from the depths of Moria because, generally speaking, he doesn’t bother me.

Do I find him a tad annoying? Of course I do. But, only because the perception of his relationship with Nicola has been warped into something ass backwards (no pun intended) to anyone with two bits of common sense, and because he’s always inconveniently there.

At the right time.

For those pap pictures.

However, the rational side of my brain reminds me that if I don’t see anything romantic in Nicola’s relationships with, say, JVN, Mark, Golda, Jack, or either of the Dylans, I shouldn’t be bothered by her relationship with Jake. Would we be paying any attention to Jake if he wasn’t being shoved down our throats by anti-Lukolas? No, probably not.

But, here we are.

I will preface this entry with my belief that Jake did not ask to be linked romantically to Nicola. That was Deux Moi's doing. Keep that in mind as you read through this. Deux Moi created that bullshit plotline and then rabid dogs ran with it.

By the way, those are the people you should be worried about. The ones pushing their “Jakola” narratives with blind aggression. I’m talking about those “in your face” assholes whose real motive behind shipping Nicola with anyone-but-Luke is solely based on their rapid-fire hatred towards Luke. These people are not Jakolas; these people are the Jakholes.

*Oh, now is the time to slip this in… My disclaimer (or, my “ask”) for today is, let’s not pick on the Sincerely Ignorant Jakola shippers. They are just as volatile as the Sincerely Ignorant Lukola shippers. They spiral fast and hard, too. Seriously, don’t fuck with these people, please. I believe most of them to be nice people.

Thank you, next.

I know that some of you will argue that Jake is a manipulative little shit and intentionally tried to make connections between Nicola and himself by way of pictures in her personal spaces and a fucking bucket hat, and that may be true. In fact, I’ve heard this argument from Lukolas that I highly respect. It’s very possible Jake has taken advantage of his friendship with Nicola. I understand the argument behind this theory and, I’ll be honest, it has made me question Jake’s character.

But, that’s not the point I’m trying to make today.

Today, I want to focus on how Jake became an “adjacent of convenience.”

What is that exactly? Well, actually, I just now made that shit up. But, it means he’s an adjacent, not because he’s romantically involved with Nicola, but rather he was in the wrong place at the right time.

It’s funny to me, when you spend some time mapping out all the little nuances that make up the Lukola timeline, that you start seeing a bigger picture.

I do not know who was behind Papsmear. Word on the street is that it was Deux Moi. I don’t know if anyone has ever actually confirmed that so, for now, I can only speculate – and speculate I will!

If you look at events in chronological order, it is interesting that, in July, the day before a video of Luke and Antonia at the GQ dinner hit social media, Deux Moi posted old pictures of Luke and Antonia from, I believe, January. Why? It’s also interesting that the day before People Magazine published the Italy Pap pictures of Luke and Antonia, Deux Moi rehashed Papsmear. Again, why?

Do you see the patterns patterning?

I thought you would.

Then what happened?

Well, “Hot Boy Summer” suddenly came to an abrupt halt with Luke returning to London.

Alone.

Is it odd to you that Luke has not been papped with Antonia since the end of July? Because it’s pretty damn odd to me. Is it possible that Luke and Antonia ceased to be “together” at the end of July? If you have read my previous entry, you already know my opinion on this.

But, dammit, that’s a shame! No more scraps for the paps. How unfortunate for Deux Moi.

Okay, then what?

Well, “Chaos Week” began. We had Nicola posting a shit storm of content starting August 4 with French toast and ending August 16 with “Juna.” We had Wordle. We had Scrabble. We had the “Drink Your Milk” shirt. We had “Bless the Telephone.” We had “very demure, very mindful” (which, in my opinion, was confirming the intent behind “Chaos Week”). Oddly, all these things seemed to weigh heavily in Lukolas’ favor. We could even take it a bit further by including the August 22 “BTS Polin” picture and the August 23 “modern day carriage” story (you know, the picture of Nicola looking oh-so-come-hither-sexy in the back of a car), which was followed up two days later by JVN’s “finger” demo. I mean, the Lukola train was rolling, right?! Fuck, yeah, it was!

But, then it came to a very abrupt stop on August 25 when Deux Moi posted pictures of Nicola hanging out with Jake at a music festival. The narrative being given? Oh, so cozy vibes.

And, that’s the moment Jake became an adjacent of convenience.

Just from being at a concert.

Taking a picture with Nicola.

Before this point, did I know who Jake Dunn was? Yeah, I did. I’d seen – in fact DEUX MOI – post pictures of Nicola and Jake hanging out in a pub together in July. I’ll be honest, I looked Jake up at the time and everything I read about him seemed to point in the exact same direction it points to today – that he’s not romantically involved with Nicola.

In fact, I polled at least two dozen of my fellow Lukolas (with the majority of them being fellow Fact Finders, with a select few being “long haulers”) about whether they’d heard of “Jakolas” before August 25. Their answer was a collective and figuratively loud NO.

What does that say to you? It makes me believe that the Jakolas were born from those festival pictures.

How convenient.

Just a few short weeks after the Antonia/Luke ship (do they even have a name?) hit an iceberg (pun intended), we suddenly have the christening of a new ship. The USS Jakola.

How convenient.

Now, think about every good thing that has come about in the Lukola fandom since the Jakholes were released into the wild.

Every positive has been collectively counteracted with a negative.

Think about the timing of all those pap pictures with Jake.

Think about who is releasing those pap pictures.

Are the patterns starting to pattern in your head?

Think about how much effort Nicola has put into erasing the Jakola narrative.

Think about how little effort Nicola has put into erasing the Lukola narrative.

Think about how much that must piss the fuck out of the Jakholes. And Deux Moi.

Anyone want to go with me to rescue Jake from the USS Jakola? I heard the Jakholes put him in the hull closet.

If you have some hesitation, I suppose I could agree to keep him hostage until we know where his allegiance lies. But I'm thinking he's dying to get off that ship.

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #my thoughts #speculation only #my opinion #adjacent of convenience

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bad268 · 6 months ago

Note

LOVE UR WORK!

I was wondering if you could write a fluff about the prema team makes a video of all the drivers doing dares and kimi’s dare is to kiss who ever walks in the room next and its the reader!

He gets all flustered and his ears turn red but he kisses u 😍

Ask Me Again (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Prema! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Clearly (I had too much fun with this lol) (Also, happy New Year yall!)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1337

Summary: As part of Kimi and Ollie's final Prema media day, they may have pushed the boundaries a bit, but Kimi wins.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“Shit, I’m so sorry I’m late! I woke up late, my sister’s goldfish died, and I couldn’t find my keys. Then, there was so much traffic, and I almost got rear-ended. It’s just been a hectic morning, and I’m so sorry. I know that’s no excuse, but I’m here now!” You said as soon as you walked into the studio where you were meant to assist in filming your first video with Prema. Of course, everything had to go wrong on the one day you needed to make a good impression on the team.

You rushed around the room, dropping your bag to the side and going up to the nearest crew when you noticed that everyone was quiet. Everyone was looking at you, not saying a word. Heck, you weren’t even sure if they were breathing. All you know is that you were very confused.

~30 minutes earlier~

“Alright, here’s the plan, boys,” Angelina started as soon as Ollie and Kimi sat down for their final media shoot for Prema. “It’s truth or dare, but we let you guys include some of the dares. I hope you two stayed PG with it.”

“I may have pushed it a little, but I’m just gonna hope I don’t get one of the dares I put,” Ollie chuckled as he put his hands up.

“I hate you sometimes,” Kimi groaned as he leaned back on the couch before looking over at Angelina. “Is it too late to back out?”

“Technically, no because the new camera operator isn't here yet, but we’re getting started anyway. If they show up, they show up, but we’ve got a tight schedule to uphold,” She explained before going behind the cameras and gesturing to start recording. “You boys ready?”

“I guess?” Kimi replied, but it sounded more like a question while Ollie just nodded enthusiastically.

“Today, for your last Prema video, you two will be playing truth or dare. Whoever refuses to answer a question or do a dare first will be penalized. Ollie, you’ll choose first since you’re older.”

“Dang, that’s age-ist of you to say,” Ollie joked lightly as he inspected the two piles of cards. “Let’s start easy and go with truth.”

“Wimp,” Kimi scoffed as he grabbed the top card. “What did you love most about Prema?”

“Probably, the different challenges we did,” Ollie chuckled as he looked straight at the camera. “Your turn.”

“Truth, I guess,” Kimi shrugged.

“Who is your dream teammate? And I’m adding this: you can’t say me or George!” Ollie read off before throwing the card down.

“I think I��d have to say Lewis,” Kimi said pretty quickly.

“Everyone wants to be teammates with Lewis,” Ollie sighed, “Come on! Pick someone random!”

“Fine,” Kimi rolled his eyes, “I think It would be fun to be teammates with Kimi Raikkonen or Pierre Gasly.”

“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Ollie clapped as they rapid-fired truths back and forth. They unspokenly decided it would be better to get all of the truths out of the way before getting into the dares. “Alright, Kimi, here’s your dare. You have to kiss the next person who comes in the room! I’m so glad I didn’t get that one.”

“You’re kidding me,” Kimi groaned as he hid his face in his hands, laughing. “Knowing my luck, I’ll have to kiss Rene!”

“That’s why I’m glad it’s not me,” Ollie teased. “We’ll have to wait for the next person, so hit me with the next one.”

“You have to post the oldest selfie on your Instagram story,” Kimi smirked, knowing exactly which selfie it was. Ollie had shown it to him once on a drunk night out, but it was highly embarrassing. Ollie immediately grew red as he remembered the picture as well. “Ah, not so funny now, is it?”

“What if we cancel the two out?” Ollie chuckled nervously. “We could both redraw and do those instead.”

“Depends on the other options,” Kimi said as he picked up the next card, “Your redraw is to have the team call your dad and say you got in a bad accident.”

“Absolutely not,” Ollie responded immediately with a sigh, “I can’t give him a heart attack like that.”

“So I guess you need to post a picture,” Kimi pressed. “You have to leave it up for the full 24 hours too.”

“No one reposts it, or I’m coming for you-” Ollie started lecturing before the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Then, his attention snapped to Kimi as an unfamiliar person came into view. Ollie started jabbing Kimi in his ribs as Kimi’s face grew red, knowing what was going to happen. Ollie then whispered, “I already posted it, so it's your turn.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry I’m late! I woke up late, my sister’s goldfish died, and I couldn’t find my keys. Then, there was so much traffic, and I almost got rear-ended. It’s just been a hectic morning, and I’m so sorry. I know that’s no excuse, but I’m here now!” You ranted as you tried to get acquainted with everything quickly when you suddenly froze, looking around at everyone staring at you. “Uh, what’s going on?”

“What’s your name?” Ollie spoke up first. Kimi was still partially hiding behind Ollie, red as ever, but he knew he would have to fulfill his dare before the team clocked him on it.

Without waiting for your answer to Ollie, you were too distracted looking around at the team to have heard the question anyway, Kimi stood up and walked up to you. He stopped in front of you briefly before cupping your face and whispering, “Mi dispiace (I’m sorry),” and planting his lips on yours.

It took you a second to realize what was happening, but by the time you did, he was already pulling away. He only pulled back enough to meet your eyes, his breath fanning across your lips. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, struggling to find the words for what you were thinking.

“I’m Kimi,” He whispered, answering one of your questions. “I’m one of the drivers, but this is our last media day before we both go to Formula 1. I was dared to kiss the next person who walked in, and that was you.”

“That’s…” You trailed off before hearing another voice.

“No offense, but how is that fair?” The person behind Kimi said. “I have to post an incredibly embarrassing selfie, and you get to kiss a hottie? That’s not fair.”

“Ollie, you wrote the dare, so shut up,” Kimi scoffed, “Plus, you wanted me to kiss Rene!”

“I didn’t want you to kiss Rene. I hoped you would kiss Rene,” The other guy - Ollie - clarified, “There’s a difference.”

“Okay, boys,” You interrupted, gently removing Kimi’s hands from your face and taking a step back. “Let me introduce myself. Hi, I’m Y/n, the new camera operator. Now, I’m sure we’re running on a timeframe,” you said as you looked over to Angelina, who interviewed you and nodded your way. “Let’s get back to work. The faster we get this done, the sooner you guys can be freed.”

“Before we get back to the dares,” Kimi brought up as he walked back in front of the cameras again and sat next to Ollie on the couch, “Can I maybe get your number after this?”

“Get some, Kimi!” Ollie cheered, pushing against Kimi’s arm and hyping him up.

You looked over at Angelina again, who was laughing and shaking her head in disbelief. You made eye contact with her. Then she leaned closer to you and whispered, “If you want to, you can, but after we finish filming. He’s still one of our drivers now, so it’s against company policy. Since this is the last thing for them, they won’t be under contact anymore.”

“Ask me again after filming,” You replied with a wink, causing Kimi’s eyes to go wide and his face to blush once again. “Now, let’s wrap this up!”

~~~~~

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demonic0angel · 8 months ago

Note

Your Damian Fenton post gave me severe Uncles+Aunt Everlasting Trio vibes.

After the Moment TM of Danny being jealous about Jazz fixating so much on Damian, and everything had been said and resolved, I can imagine Damian being a little insecure, because his own Uncle looked like he didn't like him.

The goggles being a gift from Danny would be the turning point for the two of them.

Imagine, Danny in the lab, looking over notes from Frostbite about some experiment that he wanted to try out, maybe to take neutral ectoplasm and make it into healing ectoplasm, and he's pulling out his hair a little bit, because it's a lot all at once, and Damian wanders into the room, a little nervous, because while Uncle Danny already said it wasn't his fault, Damian still desperately wants his family to like him.

It's the "lightbulb moment" of a successful experiment that turns it around into Danny and Dakian being thick as thieves.

Danny bouncing on the spot, watching the mixture settle and change colors, and as he feels Damian approach curiously, in true Jack Fenton fashion, Damian gets to be squished against Danny's chest like a teddy bear while listening to his Uncle rapid-fire explain what just happened. It's actually pretty nice, getting to go limp and be swung around while cradled against Danny's chest, while Danny purrs with joy.

By the time he's set down again, Damian has a cursory understanding of what the experiment was, and also undeniable proof of love from his Uncle.

From there, Danny breaks out his old lab coat, from when he was Damian's size with the matching safety goggles, and has Damian put them on so they can take a photo together and send it to Jazz.

I can imagine Danny ruffling Damian's hair, giving him the Gremlin Smile and telling him "your mother's gonna flip if she catches you here without safety gear. But don't worry, your uncle's gonna make sure you know how to stay safe."

Danny gets whapped with the newspaper for using Lab Time as a bonding moment, but Damian is still clinging to him and constantly swishing the ends of his lab coat like he can't believe he's wearing it.

From there, by the time Danny, Sam and Tucker finally start dating, Damian has at least one patch in all his jeans, courtesy of Tucker, and he keeps stealing one specific t-shirt from Sam, because she left it in Danny's room and Damian thought it was the coolest thing ever, so he's going to steal it, like the gremlin Fenton child that he's learning to be.

Sam shows up the next day with a whole suitcase of graphic t-shirts for Damian to try.

Do you think the reason why Damian meets the Bats is because the Trio have eventually moved to Gotham, and Jazz+Damian are taking a vacation to go see his Aunt and Uncles?

The Trio take their nephew to a dog park so he can pet the dogs? Maybe also because they adopted a puppy from a shelter and whenever Damian is with them he HAS to be involved in walking the dog every day?

Regardless, one of the Bats see this mini-Bruce racing a dog through the park, and immediately have to go stick their nose into it, to great distress to Damian, and some seriously ruffled feathers from his Uncles, Aunt and Mother. Luckily, not Grandma and Grandpa, this time, because they're busy attending a seminar with Frostbite and his students, or there would be even more threats of bodily harm than there already were.

Danny, Tucker, and Sam were definitely a large part of his life since they babysat him when Jazz was busy. He bonded with them a lot over shared hobbies and interests (Sam with gardening and plants, Tucker with cars and machinery, Danny with ghosts and science and stars).

Honestly, when I thought of Danny being jealous of Damian, it was meant to be a moment between Jazz and Danny since Damian would've been like,,, seven when it happened. However, your idea is super cute! Danny and Damian do often do experiments and hang out with each other, but that's a post for another day 😌 the coat is specifically from Jazz since she gave it to him for his first birthday with them.

The reason why Damian meets the Bats is that the entire Fenton family went there to visit for vacation, but the real reason was that Jazz was planning to move there for work and wanted to take Damian with her, so she wanted to check it out first. Of course, shenanigans ensue as Damian makes friends with the Batkids (who are endeared by the tiny, mad scientist) and then eventually meets Bruce.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #jazz fenton #ask #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #everlasting trio #damian grows up as a fenton au #jazz + damian duo #anon ask #ty for the ask <3 #damian wayne

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lambentplume · 2 years ago

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Maui Fires & How to Support Relief Efforts

(Posted on 8/10/23) Hi, I'm Jae and my family is from Lāhainā. I watched my hometown burn down this week. The fires caused immeasurable loss in my community so I'd like to spread awareness of the situation as well as provide links to support local organizations directly assisting survivors. I'm pretty sure most of my following is Not local so I'm writing with intent to inform people outside the situation, but if you're reading this and happen to have family in the affected area that isn't accounted for, message me and I can send you the links to the missing persons tracking docs + more localized info!! If you'd like to skip down to how to help and follow community organizations, scroll to the bottom of the post after the image.

Earlier this week, Hurricane Dora passed south of the Hawaiian Islands, bringing strong wind gusts that caused property damage across the islands. On Tuesday August 8, high winds caused sparks to fly in the middle of Lāhainā town, knocking out power lines and immediately igniting drought-ridden grasses. The fire spread quickly and destroyed the entire center of town, the harbor, and multiple neighborhoods including Hawaiian Homes (housing specifically for Native Hawaiians), parts of Lahainaluna, basically all of Front Street, and low-income housing units. There is only one public road in and out of town, and after a very hectic evacuation period that road has been mostly closed off except to emergency responders, thus it is extremely difficult for anyone to leave town to get help. The nearest hospital is 20 miles away in Wailuku, and most grocery stores in town have burnt down.

As of Thursday, August 10, over 1,000 acres have been burned and 271 structures (including homes, schools, and other community gathering places) have been destroyed. Cell service is still extremely spotty, many of the surrounding neighborhoods deemed safe for evacuees are still without utilities. There are currently confirmed 53 deaths but that number is expected to increase as search-and-rescue efforts continue. Countless families have been displaced and many have lost the homes they lived in for generations. Places of deep historical significance have been reduced to ash, including the gravesites of Hawaiian royalty, the old Lāhainā courthouse where items of cultural significance were stored, and Na ‘Aikane o Maui Cultural Center. To add further context: Lāhainā has a population of about 13,000 residents. EVERYONE I know has been impacted in some way--at best forced to evacuate, at worst their house was burnt to the foundation, they cannot find a loved one, etc. I'm still trying to track down family members and it's been over two days. My neighbors down the street had homes last week and now many don't have ANYTHING. The hotels are taking in residents (tourists are also being STRONGLY urged to leave so that locals can recover). Without open access to the rest of the island, Lāhainā residents are now dependent on whatever people had in their homes already as well as disaster relief efforts coming in, but it's been difficult to organize and mobilize due to the location + conditions. People who have made it out are in shelters where no blankets or medicine were provided. Friends and acquaintances from neighbor islands are preparing aid to send over. Community response has been incredible, but the toll on the town has been immeasurable. My parents were desperately walking through town yesterday, my mom sounded absolutely hollow talking about it on the phone with me. It's horrifying. Below is a satellite map with data from the NASA Fire Information for Resource Management System showing the impacted areas from the past week; all of the red blotches were on fire at some point in the last three days.

Here are ways you can help:

If you have the means to donate:

Here are three donation sites verified by Maui Rapid Response, which also lists FAQs for people who are wondering about next steps.

Hawaiʻi Community Foundation - Maui Strong Fund accepts international credit cards. Maui United Way

Maui Mutual Aid Non-monetary ways to support:

If you know anyone who is planning to travel to ANY Hawaiian island, not just Maui, tell them to cancel their trip. Resources are extremely limited as is. Advocate for climate change mitigation efforts locally, wherever that is for you. The fire was exacerbated by drought conditions that have worsened due to climate change.

Lastly, remember that these are people's HOMES that burned, and Native Hawaiian cultural artifacts that have been lost. Stop thinking of Hawaiʻi (or any "tourist destination" location, really) as an "escape" or a "paradise." If that's the only way you recognized my home... I'm glad I got your attention somehow, but I would ask that you challenge that perspective and prioritize local and native voices. For transparency, I don't currently live in Lāhainā, I've been following efforts from Honolulu. My parents and brother have been updating me and I've been following friends and family who are doing immediate response work. I'm doing my best to find reliable and current sources, but if I need to update something, please let me know. If you're going to try to convince me that tourism is necessary for our recovery, news flash ***IT'S NOT***!

Thanks for reading.

#please feel free to reblog! i don't know how tagging works here anymore!#maui fires #officially reported death count increased WHILE I WAS WRITING THE POST btw. this is bonkers.#if you want to start tourism discourse in my inbox you have to donate the cost of a plane ticket and send a screenshot to me #i have sources at the ready btw. i'd say don't try me but i mean my hometown could use a couple hundred bucks!!

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lenalenouilleisblogging · 3 months ago

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2024 feminist movie retrospective ~ day 9

It's RAPID FIRE REVIEWS TIME !! ROUND 2

I don't have enough to say about these next films to write full reviews, but i still want to mention them, these are some of the ones i watched in theaters in April of 2024. (i wanted to do 1 post per trimester initially, but i saw a LOT of movies last summer and the posts are already long enough lol)

AUTISTIC VAMPIRE FLICK YESSSS!!!!! 🦇 An incredible first feature from Ariane Louis-Seize, I'll definitely keep an eye on her work. Thank glob the movie was shown with subtitles 😵‍💫 I already have comprehension issues when people with the same accent as me are mumbling, I would not have understood the Quebec accent in this film at ALL.

The two main leads give great performances, all the character dynamics are super entertaining and watchable. Great pace, great dialogues. Mostly takes place at night and there's some great photography and lighting. A bit predictable, but also really sweet and funny, will put you in a good mood.

trailer

My favourite thing ever is when I get to see SSA characters outside of "gay cinema". I want to see characters who happen to be gay go on the same adventures as straight characters. I want to see them have fun. But I'm.... Not sure about this one?

It's purposefully vulgar and over the top, it's absurd, it's "unserious" as the kids say. And it works. It's fun and engaging, and the film-making is very good. The editing in particular is really original and fun. But there's just something about this film that reeks of "a straight man directed this". Too phallic centric for my liking for a film that was originally titled Drive-Away Dykes. It tries to be an ironic B-Movie but it has the most celebrity cameos I've seen all year. It tries to be """sex-positive""" but it ends up feeling fetishistic.

While the film is directed by Ethan Cohen, it's a dual effort from him and his wife Tricia Cooke. They both wrote and produced this. Cooke "identifies as queer" and has said their marriage, I quote: "is a very non-traditional marriage. I have a partner, Ethan has another partner." Which is the lamest and most heterosexual thing I have ever heard lmao

Make your own mind up on this one. If you like juvenile comedies and absurdly horny characters you might enjoy it. I would be lying if I said that I didn't. Texan lesbian Margaret Qualley I am free on friday please call me.

trailer

One of my absolute favourites of the year. It's interesting to watch from France, holy shit the USA medical system is truly broken on every level. The film is brutal, shocking, unrelenting, and that's the point. All the technical aspects work in tandem to create a truly harrowing experience. It's well shot, it has great fucking sound, and the performances are stellar all around. Michael Pitt from Hannibal is still fucking crazy lol.

This movie does a better job at putting you in the main character's shoes than anything else I've seen this year. When it finally ends you'll feel like you can breathe again. The director worked as an ambulance driver for 1 year in preparation for this and you can tell he cares. The film feels very raw, a lot of sequences have a documentary feel to it and the acting is so good it looks like an unscripted mess (yes this is a compliment). Very real and flawed characters. Very atmospheric. A bit sloppy in how it handles drama in the second half. But overall I loved it.

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Undoubtedly my biggest ❓❓❓of the year lol. I absolutely loved the two first thirds. The dialogues, the pacing, the movie is absolutely beautiful to look at with some amazing locations that are filmed beautifully. The characters have great dynamics and it's engaging. Then the film COMPLETELY lost me in the last third. I don't even know what to say. I'm often told that I have artsy fartsy intellectual tastes but even I have my limits. What the hell? Don't get me wrong, I love cryptic endings. But it didn't feel earned at all. It felt like 30min of film were missing? I love every part of this film individually. I actually think the last third is great. I just don't understand how it's related to the rest of the film AT ALL. What... What the fuck

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Low-budget documentary about a french nurse. That's it. Very simple, very sweet, loved watching it with my nurse mom. It's sooo french lol. It's about life, it's about healing, it's about incredible women. A fun watch. French hospitals need urgent help that our government isn't providing. But the fucking heroes who work in them are still clocking in and making the world a better place.

trailer (no subtitles sorry)

This kind of drama is not what I go for usually, but undoubtedly powerful. A grim look at reality. A film about how little the law cares about victims of rape. The fact that the movie ends up "proving" (not graphically) that the crime did happen feels like a betrayal of its concept. We didn't need to see it, we just believe victims. But i guess it's needed for the general audience... All the performances are terrific. Very female-centric with a hopeful ending. Loved the end credits 🥹 let's go women

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I'm a huge, HUGE fan of Alex Garland's previous film, Men. I was hyped as fuck for this. And, uuuuuuuhhhhhh. It's not that it's badly made. It's great in fact. Amazing camera work, editing, soundtrack. Wonderful acting. But it's all in service of NOTHING... How frustrating... This is a film about war journalism. And journalism in general. And if you wanna see that, then go see it! The problem is that it's not at all what the movie advertises itself as! (watch the trailer below if you doubt my words lol) It establishes this really surprising story of a massive, violent civil war tearing the US apart and then it simply uses it as a background to talk about journalism. Now DON'T TWIST MY WORDS, journalism is important. Some war journalists are fucking heroes. (see : day 5 of my retrospective)

But it all just ends up feeling super phoney. What was the point? What's the message? There is none. Why did this civil war start? Don't know! What does every side want? Don't know!

Civil War is a very good film. As i said before, my philosophy is to judge movies based on what they are trying to achieve. And i think this film meets all its goals. It's a weirdly apolitical movie about the way violent conflicts affect people's personal lives and what role war journalists play in all this. BUT i think the decision to choose the context of a civil war is a bad one. The title is bad, the trailer is bad. It muddles up what the film is trying to achieve. It makes you expect answers the movie will never deliver, and it ends up feeling empty and boring. I recommend that you watch it and make your own opinion on it. I broadly agree with what Adum from YMS said about it.

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I was told this was the Indian John Wick but I liked it a lot more than John Wick! A great, fun watch. It truly is a perfect mix of Hollywood codes and Bollywood codes. The film has a great style complimented by its visuals and music, it's well edited, it has a great use of color. A great directorial debut for Patel! The story will feel very tropey if you don't like bollywood's codes but i thought it was very engaging from beginning to end! It has interesting characters and a very satisfying conclusion. I like that the film takes its time, and the action scenes are great. Sometimes you just wanna see people beat each other to a pulp 🩵 This is a great one if you want that.

An important note : i like that the film includes hijras characters, it's very interesting and it truly links the narrative to specific cultural phenomenons. HOWEVER. At some point there's a journalist on TV who refers to hijras as the "trans community" and at first i thought it was a mistake from the french subtitles but no it's actually in the film. And that sucks. It's already bad enough that this kind of oversimplification/misiformation thrives online, but it's dangerous to put it in mainstream big budget films. Like what the fuck.

I don't know... Maybe i'm too woke but i don't think it's good to refer to a caste of men who were castrated as minors because they were effeminate/SSA, and who are legally considered a third sex that is heavily discriminated against, as "transwomen". Am i the only one who's bothered by that? 💀 I guess i am considering the most popular reviews. (I just looked it up and most big NGOs consider them to fall under the trans umbrella... We're doomed.😐)

trailer

That's it for April ! I also watched Godzilla × Kong but I have nothing to say about it lol

#i cannot believe how seriously people take Tricia Cooke lol #i saw comments on letterboxd saying “you can tell she brings a queer vibe to the project” are you kidding me lmaooo #review tag #radblr #radical feminism #movie tag #film yapping tag #2025 op #Léna's originals and additions

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ssivinee · 2 years ago

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✧Expert Level✧

Part 1 | Part 2

*Part 2 of "New Game, New Player," so I suggest you read Part 1 first!*

BEBE!Bada Lee x Dancer! F Reader: Jeon Y/n and Bada fall for each other, finding comfort in the latter. Bada never knew how to react around you but kept a strong facade. Yet that comes crumbling down as days go by and you slowly become each other's person.

Word count: 5.8k

Note: This took so long... my hands need a dam break from typing. ALSO VERY MUCH NOT PROOFREAD I GOT TOO EXCITED TO POST THIS.

Character Vision Board

You shouldn't have expected anything less from the leader of Bebe. The deal was to win 2 more battles for a date, which she did just that. She had two matches exactly, one against Redlic of Mannequeen and the other against Gooseul of DeepNDap.

On the other hand, you didn't have any further battles. Other crews were targeting the other members instead. It made you laugh at their face each time Lyn, Heaven, Enyo, and Aria showed out. They shouldn't have questioned the capabilities of your team in the first place. The team was winning more than you can count on one hand, and it made you proud.

When filming ended, Aesthete was all in their room, preparing to leave. As you go to the neighboring room, your duffel bag rests on your shoulders. The team full of youngsters heard a subtle knock on their door. Aware of who it is, Bada opens the door, revealing the other tall dancer.

"So you ready for that dinner?" You ask, leaning on the door frame. She hands you her phone, "Let's switch numbers, and you send me the details," you nod, complying with her wishes. "I'll see you later," you wave off, and she bows in response as your team follows behind you. She turned around, shutting the light blue door, and all her teammates began squealing.

"Wha~ It's really happening," Soweon swoons over the interaction. "Never thought I'd see the day THE Jeon Y/n is hitting on you, unnie," Lusher adds, and all her teammates nod. "The girl who everyone is in love with asked you on a date. I don't know if I should be happy or jealous of you?" Minah jokes at her leader.

"I wonder where she's gonna take you?" Kyma asks, and Bada feels their comments and questions coming at rapid fire. "How bout I go on the dinner first, then I'll let you guys know," she says teasingly, groans filling the room at her sarcasm.

"You're telling us you're not one bit excited for your date?" Cheche wonders, and Bada's face goes red in shame.

"I didn't say that," was all she could say before her crew jumped like little bunnies around her. "This is so exciting for you, unnie," Lusher tells her, and Bada leans her head back, trying to save herself from embarrassment by looking at the ceiling.

"Let's just go home," she grumbles, but their teasing doesn't stop.

"So you can get ready for your date?"

"Will you guys shut up!"

Bada was now at her apartment, readying herself for the next few hours. She had just gotten out of the shower, and her phone notified her about a message.

Y/n❣️ You good in an hour?

Bada was now alarmed, looking at the time. It was only 6 p.m., but she was agitated, knowing she was nowhere near ready.

Ocean🩵 I don't even know what to wear?????

Y/n❣️ Something fancy

Bada replies sure, connecting her address to the message, and scurries through her closet. Fancy? All Bada saw in her closet was her array of baggy clothing. That was until she was nearing the other side of her closet, catching the sight of a handful of dresses. She decided to wear a black velvet bodycon dress that hugged every curve of her body, then topped it with an off-white light cardigan and some sandals.

Time went by, and she heard the doorbell of her place ring. Bada rushes over to her door, fixing up her oreo hair that was now up in a ponytail before opening the door to see you.

Her eyes grow wide at the view of your apparel. Your hair was in a low bun, showing off the chains you wore. Your suit made you look like you had legs for days, and your boots added an inch to your height.

You made Bada breathless.

You reveal the flowers that hide behind your back, giving them to her with a broad smile as you look her up and down, enjoying the sight. Her usual style had gone out the window, and what stood before you was a feminine beauty who looked divine in the sleek dress.

"You look gorgeous, Bada." You tell her softly, and the latter is trying to take everything in all at once. Your perfume filled her nose, and she smiled at you, "I could say the same thing about you."

"Well, are you ready to go?" She only nods, clutching her bag as she takes your hand. Your eyebrow raises at the touch, but you grasp her hand tighter, loving the warmth it gives you. You take her to your car, open the passenger side, and she thanks you. Making your way to the driver's side, you make your way to a fancy restaurant, and Bada marvels at the building. "Isn't it expensive here?"

"The prices don't matter, Bada. I asked you to come with me. So don't worry about anything." You tell her as you help her exit the car. She wraps her arm around yours, taking in her surroundings. When the two of you enter, her grip becomes tighter, and you look at her. Unable to hold the smile you had, her eyes were roaming around like a lost child.

You go to the host and ask for a table for two. The duo was seated, and you immediately asked for some cider, something light since you still had to drive home. The two of you reading up on the menu and picking out some meals. "Are you sure about this Y/n? The prices are actually crazy."

You grab her hand from across the table, looking at her earnestly, "I told you not to worry about it, Bada." Her heart quickened at the tone of your voice, just nodding.

The two of you drank the alcoholic beverages and started to chat. "I guess I'm your top student now, huh?" Bada jokes, getting an airy chuckle out of you. "Well, you're gonna have to prove it." Her face goes puzzled. "And how would I do that?"

You lean your body forward and whisper, "You just have to be a good girl. You can do that for me, right?" Bada's face was now painted red, her body heating up at the choice of words. She obediently nods, and you let out another chuckle, amused by the reactions she gave you. The world knew her as the confident, tall dancer, but to you, she was a beautiful woman crumbling under your gaze.

"So~ Working as an in-house choreographer under SM?" You try and make conversation. As much as you liked teasing her, you genuinely wanted to get to know her. "Yeah," she says with a tight-lipped smile. "Can I ask how that happened?"

"Uhm, YoungJ oppa had been working with NCT, and he introduced me to Kai first. I guess he liked my dancing so much that he kept asking me to work on the pieces with him." You nod, knowing how Kai was when meeting him while hanging out with BTS Jimin at one point. "I noticed he really does hand-pick the dancers he wants."

"What about you and HYBE?" You sigh at her question, and her brows furrow at your reaction. "I got in due to Bang Si-hyuk's request."

She looks at you weirdly, "Then what's with the reaction?"

"Cause everyone thinks it's cause of Jungkook-oppa." You quickly say, and she nods in understanding. "I started working with TXT first, just so people wouldn't say anything. I even did my best to avoid any project with him, but I couldn't avoid doing RunBTS."

"Why is that?"

"Cause oppa and his members personally asked me," you tell her, but truthfully, they all bombarded your phone and visited your place until you'd accepted. "Do you enjoy it? Being under HYBE?"

"Of course I do. What I hate is all the words being thrown around with it. It's a blessing and a curse," you admit, head hanging low. You hated talking about it in a pessimistic way, but it was something that would be looming over your head for years to come. "Never mind that. How about we talk about that class we agreed on?" Bada grins at your words, "What do you have in mind?"

"A duo dance," you say instantly, and Bada's eyebrows rise. "To what song?" That's when you shrugged. "Whose your favorite artist? We can do a song from them," you suggest.

"It's Vedo," she answers simply, but you laugh, "I should've assumed."

"What does that even mean?"

"Do you know how many videos I've seen of you dancing to his music?" She goes shy, looking away at the question. Your food then arrives, and the two of you get to eat.

"What about this one?" Bada points at the tattoo on your collarbone. The two of you talked about all the ink on your body. You mainly explained that you just loved the look of it, but some did have meaning to it.

The tattoo she gestures to is a rose intertwined with the words, 'Your only limit is you.' You smiled just thinking of the words, "It's just my daily reminder," you joke. "In all seriousness, though, it just reminds me that I shouldn't stop getting what I want, no matter the cost."

You pause before looking dead in her eyes, "Like getting you."

Her mouth goes slightly ajar at your words. She wasn't sure if she loved or hated you for making her feel completely different. THE Bada Lee was having a hard time with someone for once, and she didn't know how to handle it.

The dinner continues to go smoothly, and you suggest going for a walk on the beach. To your dismay, Bada agrees, and you two are now taking a stroll. You lent her your coat, making sure she wouldn't freeze, and the soft sand buried your feet as the cold breeze of the ocean waves over the two of you.

Hand-in-hand, your arms swayed with each other while listening to the sounds of the crashing waves. "Bada, what do you see in your future?" You ask suddenly, and Bada thinks, unable to respond quickly. "I see a dance studio in my name, with Bebe still by my side and a loving partner who would do anything for me."

"That's a very leader-like answer," You smile at her, "How about you?"

"I don't know yet," you go deep into thought. "I just want to be happy. I guess I just like living in the now." You tell while rubbing the back of your neck. "I do want Aesthete to still be together. They brought me a new sense of life," Bada stared at you as you talked about your team in admiration. Bada saw a glimmer in your eye for the first time, maybe the longing of wanting something you could keep forever.

You chatted more about work, dance, family, and friends before realizing how late it was getting. So you drop her back home, walking her back to her apartment door. "I had a good time," she says faintly, and you kiss the back of her hand. Bada was entirely surprised by your gentlewomanly tendencies, "I'm glad, truly." She couldn't look you in the eye, looking at your hand instead. "About that class... wanna make it happen? With Bebe and Aesthete?" You ask. Bada looks at you, "You were being serious? I mean, I'd love to. It would be fun."

"I'll make it happen, Bada. I promise."

The next day, the class mission had just been announced, and it got everyone busy. Your teammates were around the building, finding a quiet place to start working.

You decided to offer to listen to 'Smoke' with Bada in the large dance studio the Street Woman Fighter building had. The two of you stood in the room, listening intently to the song's beats, rhythm, and lyrics. Most of the time, Bada observed you as your body moved quickly, instantly becoming familiar with the music. It was watching your true form at work, and she loved every moment of it.

Bada commended you in her head. Dance just came so quickly to you. It should be that way, but she couldn't fathom the amount of style you used in one go. You were like an oiled machine with much information stored in your brain. While doing that, you went in and out of the room, explaining to Bada that you were just helping and checking up on your girls.

As you repeat some of your moves, trying to find the perfect ones, Bada joins you. Unlike you, she just used the beat and lyrics instead. Occasionally, your brain starts picking up the movements she connected together. You watch as she starts from the beginning. She isolated her neck as she sauntered, mimicking the lyrics, "Light it up."

She flicks up her hand, imitating a working lighter, and you hype her up a little. Your cheers and sickening facial expressions gave her more confidence to use massive power. Despite being technical rivals, you weren't afraid to admit how cool her movements were. You take a break at some point, and she watches as she pieces the second half of the choreography. By the end, you were clapping for her with a proud smile as if she had just won an award. "Your brain works wonders, I tell you." You pat her butt, and she tackles you. Your arms go around her waist, making sure you find your balance. "You ready for this?"

"I think I am," she answers you with a smile, and the two of you head down to the fight zone, seeing all the leaders already there, and sit next to each other.

All you could say as people took turns, they were harsh.

It was soon Bada's turn, and you look at her. Bada tended to bite her lip when she got nervous, and you realized how much she did it throughout every dance a leader presented. While paying attention to everyone's words, your hand makes its way onto her lap, and you clasp your hands on hers as your thumb rubs the back of her hands, calming her down.

When it's Bada's turn, you give her a thumbs up as she stands there. She begins, and everyone finds her choreography the coolest and most doable.

"It looks the coolest. I want to do a dance that can prove our abilities as dancers."

"The groove of it is nice. I wouldn't mind using this piece."

"Isn't this harder to steal?" You look over to the owner of the voice, Mina Myoung. "If we try out for this dance, we have a higher chance of losing." Bada only nods at her words, understanding the thought she took into consideration. Yet, you didn't get it. You wanted so badly to defend Bada.

All of you were dancers and professionals at that. It was your job, and if you didn't have the confidence to do it, maybe it wasn't suitable for you. You held back your tongue, knowing it wasn't your place to talk.

It was then your turn to show out, and you got up to the walkway, showing the powerful yet sleek dance you had prepared. Everyone expresses how they liked the route you took and how cool it made you feel, but on the technicality side, it had aspects of popping and locking with some commercial sprinkled in there that looked difficult to pull off, which makes you nod in understanding.

"Doing this dance would be great. The lines are clean, and it looked empowering."

Kristen smiles at you, "Dude, you're insane. The stylistic choices, the rhythm your body used? I wanna learn it." Yet you hit the same wall Bada does.

"The technicality of it, though, it's not something many of us can't do."

"As cool as the dance is, this choreography is much more in your favor."

That's just when you had to say, "As leaders, we should all be able to dance something at a high level due to our years of experience. We come here not only to show our dance but our leadership to people." Your words simmer in many of their minds, knowing you weren't wrong.

The voting began, and it was a close call between yours, Bada's, and Akanens. The leaders decided to come back and group up later when there was more thought in their choices. When coming back, Bada's dance wins against yours 5 to 2. You were satisfied, though. In fact, you were joyed. You shake her shoulders, congratulating the girl, "You're just too good." And she hugs you in happiness, squeezing hard around your shoulders.

You tell your team, and you are pleased with the outcome. You just knew how trendy the choreography looked and how everyone would be dancing to it when the episode was released.

Now, the leaders were back in the Fight Zone, where Bada prepared to teach the choreography. You decide to stay beside Kristen and give her a fist bump. Bada begins, and as she teaches everyone, the Aesthete and Jam Republic leaders' voices can be heard.

"You really do move those hips like water, Kris," you tell her as you pat the shorters hips, and she giggles. "Says you."

"I mean you over here using so much space and extending your moves. You're making my muscles tense over here." You say, and she hits you jokingly. These interactions happened often throughout the session.

Bada's gaze kept looking at the two of you with much distaste. Your focus should've been on her and her only. This causes her mood to sour, and she targets you gradually during the rehearsal.

"Y/n, you didn't move your chest during the walk."

"No no, that's wrong, your angles are too small."

"Jeon Y/n, are you even paying attention."

You were taken aback by her quick flip in emotions. What the fuck is happening right now?

You couldn't understand what went wrong. Every move was correctly done, down to the facial expression and vibe. As you made friends with the other leaders, you realized it had worsened. Bada was scoffing and giving you death glares every moment she could.

During your break, Bada strays away to the Bebe hideout, and you follow her. You enter the room without warning, making Bada whip her head at the door's sudden opening.

"What is your problem right now, Bada?" You ask, a sound of hurt layered underneath. "I've been doing everything properly?" Your statement sounded more like a question. Throughout the hours, you began doubting if you did anything right but were honestly trying your hardest. So why were you getting shunned for it?

When Bada hears your pain, she beats herself up mentally. She couldn't help but be jealous when she had no right to. "I'm sorry," she huffs, and you sit beside her. "What is it, Bada? What have I done?" You ask with caution, and Bada can't meet your eyes.

"I don't like how close you are with Kristen." She mumbles, and your eyes widen. That was the issue? You chuckle at the girl, and she looks at you with large eyes, "It's not funny," she says, whining. You found it endearing, squishing her face.

She discreetly yearned for your attention the entire time.

Bada was bitter about the attention you gave others and couldn't comprehend why since it was her dance and she was teaching it. "You do know I'm only interested in you, right?" You state the obvious, but Bada's heart flutters. Your arm wraps around her shoulder, "Come on, it's time for the main dancer auditions."

You two head down, and everyone notices the two of you together, which causes every team to tease you two. Bada sat down with her team, hiding her face as she tucked her knees into her chest. You loved it, though. People would now aware of the situation between you two, and you believed it would reassure Bada.

"Dang unnie, it's only been two days, and you guys are that close?" Lyn teases. "They seemed more than close. Are you guys dating yet?" Heaven asks, and you just hushed them. "Auditions are starting, please focus."

That they did, but as time passed, none of your girls made it as main dancers. You were still proud since they had all made it to the second round of reauditions. They were the biggest competitors in each class.

It was time for the leaders, and Bada's group was up first. You stood behind them while marking your movements beside Kristen. After your chat with Bada, you made it your mission to dance all out, proving that you were paying attention and that she was your number one priority. Bada's group goes first, and no one saw anyone else but Bada on that stage. She was like a bright candle standing taller above the rest, unwilling to give out. During the hip roll, you bite your lip. God, is she so sexy. You then quickly erased your thoughts when it was your turn.

As you begin, you walk up, and everyone's attention is on you and Kristen. You let the music fully control your body, and Bada watches the two of you with hawk eyes. She wouldn't openly admit it, but she wanted to keep you and Kristen in check. She liked you but also wanted to carry the tradition of holding the main dancer. The way the two of you dance made her nervous. You two filled the stage and danced like no one else was around.

The judges have a hard time choosing, so they make you reaudition. "For the reaudition, we want Tsubakill's Akanen, Aesthete's Jeon Y/n, Jam Republic's Kristen, and Bebe's Bade Lee."

You and Akanen were up first, and you were holding your ground. You knew the advantages you had in this. The stature of your body was similar to Bada's, but you had more muscles, and you knew you could copy Bada's movements to the tea. Once you end, the two dancers switch with Bada and Akanen. You watched, pleased at the two and their difference in styles. Kristen made sure to use the entire stage and show her flexibility while doing certain moves, while Bada showed much more attitude than usual. It felt captivating yet exhilarating to watch, and you got excited

The four of you stood on the stage, and you smiled hearing Shonwu's words. "We have another reaudition. It's Bebe's Bada Lee and Aesthete's Jeon Y/n." You wink at Bada, who smirks at you, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You were grinning ear to ear and stood beside each other on stage. Once the music begins, the two of you turn to serious mode. You guys danced similarly, and everyone realized how difficult the choice would be. It was identical, almost as if you mirrored each other’s movement. It looked like Bada took over your body while you took over hers.

When you finish, you see the looks of disdain on the judge's faces, making you chuckle quietly. They talked for 5 minutes, but it felt like an eternity until Monika announced Bada had won the position.

The taller brings you into a relieved hug. You mumble how amazing she is, so she kisses you on the cheek. You were amazed by Bada, not because she beat you, but because she carried such humbleness. She held you close, and you wonder if she was so scared of not meeting everyone's expectations.

But she knew she lived up to yours.

After 3 days of waiting, today was the day you all had to film for the video. You sat in the makeup chair, feeling the black mascara almost smeared on your face's temple area. You open your eyes, looking around at the other leaders. Their makeup was a mess, making you all look like you were all a part of the cult.

While Bada, on the other hand, looked like the queen you were all worshipping. Her lips looked fuller due to the applied lipstick, the gems on the bridge of her nose accentuated her sharp facial features, and you couldn’t even react how you wanted to, not wanting to mess up your makeup artist.

Your gaze was now fixed on your mirror, and you were stunned at the look. It looked tamer than the rest, the makeup artist even putting some gems around your eyes. You were confused but didn’t question it, being a little happy you had something special going on.

Bada's makeup was completed first, and she took some mirror photos to capture her beauty. You had sneakily gone beside her, comfortably putting your arms around her waist. She flinched, "what are you doing?" She asks.

You just mumble into her shoulder, "Just take a picture," your deep voice giving her chills. She was sure glad she had layers of makeup on her face, or else you could see the blush forming rapidly. You continue to take photos, some even with you being in front of Bada, due to your height, arms wrapped around your neck, while acting as if she was gonna give you a peck on the cheek, yet she couldn't, afraid of getting her lipstick on your face.

"Filming begins in 5!" Everyone was told, and you all made your way onto the set.

Everyone crowded around on set when the camera started rolling, and you all marked your positioning. Kang Daniel made an announcement as filming progressed, but none of the leaders paid any mind about it, just focusing on their jobs. The ending scene had you, Bada, and Kristen dancing together, and you circle around each other being part of Bada’s idea. She blows on her thumb, insinuating she blew out the lighter.

When monitoring the entire thing, your eyes only watched Bada. You whistled when seeing her face and called her hot so often that the dancer tried to cool herself down by thirsting on her ice-cold water.

The shoot was complete, and you were excited to remove the makeup. Bada sees your bare face and how precious you look without all the fixed production all over you. Your long hair was messy, and you wore a navy blue tracksuit. You had texted her while getting ready to go, offering her a ride home, which she openly accepted, and asked her to meet you at the parking lot.

During the ride back to Bada's place, you notice the lip-biting and calmly tell her, "You know I'm here for you, right? If you just wanna get something off your chest, I'm all ears." She admits she was scared in a shaky voice. Everyone had worked really well on set. Bonds and friendships were being made left and right. Bada couldn't help but worry over her choice of worst dancer. You had thought about it, too. It was about to come down to the tiniest things when making a choice, but you just laid your hand on Bada's thigh, rubbing it in comfort, "When the time comes, I know you'll make the right decision."

You pause a little and joke, “even if it’s me.” You say, lifting up her mood. The both of you knew well in yourselves that she wouldn’t pick you. Really, she couldn’t even if she wanted to. Bada gave you many ways to shine: the makeup, the outfit, and center position in the final scene. There was almost no way she could pick you without looking like the craziest person in the world.

You drop her off, and this time, as a goodbye, you kiss her cheek, "I'll pick you up on Friday? So we can go on set together?" and she just obliges with a nod, not trusting anything to come out of her mouth because of your kiss.

Friday comes, and you pick Bada up from her place. That was after you had stopped by a coffee shop getting you two some bitter iced Americanos as you learned it was Bada’s favorite.

"You didn't have to, Y/n," she says as you hand her the coffee, "But I wanted to." She smiles as she joyfully sips on the drink. You had your music on the radio, with Bada and you singing to each other as you let her dance crazily while trying to drive safely. The car was full of laughter before the nerve-racking day, and it kept Bada's mind off it for some time.

As you make it to the building, you grab her hand and walk hand in hand-into the building. People notice the sight of the two together, and the teasing again erupts as you're both talked about by other crews, even your own. When the two of you separate ways, you see your team of younger dancers grinning your way. "Please tell me the two of you are dating now," Aria says, giggling beside you in the hideout. "You seem more excited about us getting together than we are," You kid.

"Unnie, you have to ask her out? What if someone beats you to it?"

"You mean if someone beats Bada-unnie to it." Lyn and Enyo argue, and you just smirk. "I don't think either of that will happen," you say with pure confidence, and your team shrieks in anticipation.

Everyone gets ready to head to the main stage, but you pull her aside when you see Bada walking in front of you. She looks at you anxiously, and you take both hands into her grasp, trying to shake the nerves away. "You'll make the right choice. I know you will," you tell her as you caress her face and kiss her forehead, which causes you to have to fix her beanie a little. She nods while deep breathing, "You're right, you're right." She tells you but repeats, seemingly trying to reassure herself of what will happen.

You were the last ones to the fight zone, but rather than receiving the teases and comments, it was dead silent. The tension was getting to everybody. This was for the first mission, and it was for the sake of their teams. It was terrifying, to say the least.

The videos started with the rookie class, where Rena was the main dancer. While watching, everyone was energized, the rookies boosting the mood of the studio. You watched the youngest, Lyn, who looked like she had the most fun while dancing to the high-energy pop song. When the video ends, you smile at Lyn, patting her thigh.

"You did so well, Lynnie," you tell her, and she tightly wraps her arms around your neck, giving you a quick cuddle in the crook of your neck.

As you watched the other videos, you never expected anything less from your team. Everyone did their jobs and did it right. Enyo and Heaven could be seen in the sea of dancers, and that told you enough. The air shifts when Mannequeen's Yoonji and Waackxxxy pick Kyma and Cheche as the worst dancers. The younger girls were asked to speak, but almost nothing came out. So Kang Daniel reverts the attention to Bada, "Bada-nim, what can you say?"

She picks up the mic and finds the right words, "I'll just have to consider this when choosing whose worst dancer is in leader class." Your mind spiraled at Bada's relaxed manner as she nodded, adding salt to the wound. Mannequeen was already down by 100 points. They couldn't afford any more losses right now.

Aria was whispering about their problems with you. During the video, everyone enjoyed it. The Lusher and Latrice duo made you proud of both girls. Latrice's solo in the end and Aria's center moment made you glad.

But while talking about the sub-leaders, the mood was still uneasy. "It seemed like most of us got along, other than Latrice and Downy. But Redlic did seem like she had a lot of say behind the scenes about Kristen being there helping Latrice help direct the video." You nod, understanding the circumstances now. If Kristen was there for support and threw ideas around, you didn't see the big issue. You assumed the other sub-leaders were questioning Latrice's leadership the entire time. Jam Republic then discussed who to pick, and you hear several names thrown around until you hear one of the girls saying a word that began with an 'R.' So you knew even before announcing who it was.

"The person I pick as the worst dancer is Redlic," by all means, after what you heard, you weren't even shocked by her choice. If you felt disrespected, you'd do the exact same thing.

It was now the leader's turn, and your hand felt sweaty. You knew in your heart you did well, and there was almost little to no chance of being the worst dancer, but you worried for Bada, not knowing if she'd be able to take the reality of her choice.

Everyone watched, and the crews were in awe. The way it was filmed, the dance, the vibes, it was too good. In the ending scene with you, Kristen, and Bada, everyone cheered, giving you all a standing ovation. You bow while seated, showing your respects, but it is finally time to pick.

Bada chats with her team and you. You look at her, feeling your chest getting heavy. She turns around and brings the mic to her mouth, "The leader I pick as the worst dancer is... DeepNDap Mina Myoung."

Kang Daniel asks for some words from Mina, but as she cries, your eyes never leave Bada's, seeing the tears falling down her cheeks. Your heart ached at the sight as her members tried to calm her down quickly. Never in a million years did you want to see Bada cry out of sadness. All you wanted to do was run up and give her the warmest hug you could.

Bada's eyes meet yours, and they plead for you to be near her. You bite your lip with a nod, getting frustrated as the time felt like it was going too slow for your liking. Even when your team ranked second, your mind was tunnel visioned on the tall dancer, and when you heard "Cut" from the director, you ran over to Bada. She stands up and lets your body fall into hers.

You swayed her body, and she relaxed, leaving her chin on her shoulder. "There were no wrong choices. You picked what you felt was right." The hug lasted forever, but you took her to the Aesthete room when you pulled her apart. The sad girl stood there as you whipped her tears away with a soft tissue and smiled a little.

"What are you smiling at, huh?"

"How pretty you are," she simply states, and you laugh. You grab her face, pecking her with light kisses, and she giggles. The tickling feeling makes her swoon over you. You then wanted to ensure you sealed the deal, giving her soft kisses on the lips.

For some reason, this doesn't surprise Bada. She takes it with open arms, even reciprocating it. "I don't ever wanna see you cry like that again," you tell her sincerely, but she laughs. "With you? I doubt I ever will."

Taglist: @1luvkarina @only-minghaos @kpopgirl-97 @tikitsune

#bada lee #gxg #wlw #bada lee x reader #bebe #street woman fighter x reader #swf2 #swf2 x reader #jam republic #street woman fighter 2 #ssivinee #bada lee x fem reader #swf 2 x reader #bebe x reader #swf #street woman fighter x fem reader

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artmakerproductions · 6 days ago

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Charlie & The Chocolate Factory Retro-ish Game Adaption Concepts

In short, a game adaption of CaTcF (based on no specific version btw) where it's done in the style of old school games like Spyro, Crash Bandicoot, Mario, Donkey Kong Country, Spongebob Squarepants and many more.

You, as Charlie Bucket, have to navigate the factory and defend yourself against the many creations of Wonka, the Oompa Loompas, and encounter the 4 other factory visitors in two boss battles each. Willy Wonka serves as the final boss.

Sort of a big post, so heads up.

A revision of two old CaTcF game premises I had years back. The first three drawings are the version that's used prominently. The latter three are the earliest version iirc.

As for motivation and drive of the story for this "game"? Was thinking they all got roped into the chaos cause of the ultimate prize that Wonka promised. All of them getting selected for the opportunity to win "the greatest prize ever" and Charlie is like, "oh okay cool what could go wrong?" cause why pass up the opportunity from THE Wonka? What he didn't sign up for was a President Snow and the Hunger Games situation. Elimination til one is left. So Charlie is simply trying to survive the madhouse and acting in self defense. When confronting Wonka, Charlie rejects the prize (ownership of the factory) because of what the crazed candy man caused that day. Wonka doesn't take this lightly and the final boss battle happens.

Charlie move-set (old design)

Charlie can use his scarf as a item launcher for further away targets, a latching rope and swing.

Augustus Gloop Boss Battle 1: Chocolate Room

You gotta deflect the food and candy 🍬 he hucks at you with the regrowing lollipops on either side of the stage. After being hit (the lollipop in your hand crumbles to nothing after use) he jumps down, quakes the ground (obliterating the lollipop plants temporarily) and he jumps around a few times before getting exhausted (stunned). This is when you get another lollipop to hit him into the river. He returns atop the pipe from offscreen and back to his 1st position. Cycle repeats, more rapid fire and he gets progressively more covered in chocolate (rule of three) til the final time. Augustus gets sucked up the pipe and the stage is complete. Move onto the next half of levels til...

Augustus Gloop Boss Battle 2: Mixing Room

In the Chocolate Mixing Room, Augustus Gloop is back, this time with a friend: a giant killer gummy snake (one you'd of avoided in a prior level). Dodge the snake and globs of chocolate thrown at you. The Snake and Gloop retreat into the vats of chocolate and show up in the opposite side; or bait and switch you (cartoon logic like scooby doo door chase). When the snake goes for a charged strike and misses, it knocks itself out momentarily. Use this moment to walk up the snake and hit Augustus. In the flailing recoil, more of the platform is broken off and more dodgy. Repeat til defeat. Now you move on to the new factory area.

Violet Beauregarde Boss Battle 1: Inventing Room

Violet's move-set include rock n roll attacks and avoiding beakers, experimental candies 🍬 and ther science-y stuff that fall or get shattered from the vibrations. Shelves get emptier as the battle progresses. Then, Violet lifts her KISS-inspired rocker mask to enact her explosive gum bubble attack. Burst her bubble before it gets too big. When that happens, it drifts towards you and explodes. Damage to health is certain. Each successful damage hit, she grabs a new piece of gum. Watch out for the bonebreaker candy the machine the Oompa Loompa is operating spits out. Cycle continues, she even tries swinging her guitar at you, til the final time when she takes the wrong bubble gum and blows up into a large blueberry. Move onto the next half of levels before...

Violet Beauregarde Boss Battle 2: Fizzy Room

Avoid Violet, now more rolling than rocking, by jumping over as she barrels on by. Wait for her to lose momentum from the dizziness. By then ride the big bubbles up (when they appear) to the platform above. Wait for the Oompa Loompa pushing the machine to be directly above Violet. That's when you jump on it to knock it down and squish the blueberry juice out of her. She gains momentum with her smaller size, but is easier to make the jump over. Repeat till she’s fully juiced.

Veruca Salt Boss Battle 1: Nut Room

Very "final level of Donkey Kong" inspired with this one. Starts of with her up on the top platform. Her move-set includes throwing gold bricks at you. As she does, make your way to below Veruca's level. Avoid them, then pick one up before they slide down the garbage chute. Use the throwing move w/ the scarf as a launcher for the more long distance throws at a target. Knock her helmet off and the squirrels attack. Chewing the supports as well. Veruca recompenses herself and performs her purse item throwing and ballerina twirl attacks. She’ll get dizzy and stop long enough for a hit. Three levels to get her down til the bottom floor. The 3rd time the platform gets wedged and temporarily blocks the hole but the weight of Veruca standing on it with her gold bar filled purses causes it to collapse.

Veruca Salt Boss Battle 2: The Furnace and Garbage Room

Now in a popped and torn up suit, covered in garbage, Veruca is as mad as ever like a bull. Doubling down in her aggression and purse/ballerina spin attacks. To stop and do damage, knock off her helmet she wears with rotten golden eggs 🥚 that get sent down to the room occasionally. She'll get stunned by the stench of the room long enough for you to deal a hit in damage. Cycle repeats till she passes out.

Mike TeaVee Boss Battle 1: TV Room

When you meet Mike, he's already in the TV set and controls an assortment of robots to attack. Stun and trap them in the cylinder via the red button. Complete this before the camera is charged up (indicated by lightbulbs) then zaps whatever is in the tube into cyberspace with Mike. Causing damage by exploding. Repeat til the TV screen overloads and explodes. When thay happens, a massive electrical current surges out of the TV to elsewhere. Continue on, with the electrified Mike causing problems until...

Mike TeaVee Boss Battle 2: Power Room

Charlie has to deal with Mike again, now as living voltage. Three switchboxes act as platforms to jump across to, al9ng with hanging cords above for when Mike zaps across the stage through the TV screens. When the voltage on the ground is gone, that's when you can safely jump to the floor and flip a switch to turn off a portion of the power that powers Mike. Keep this up, he shrinks thinner and thinner, till no more power and reverts to a boy... only now small as a mouse. Scambers off.

After a few more levels, you finally reach the final stretch...

Confronting the Candy Man, Mr. Willy Wonka: The Final Boss

1- Wonka’s Study: you avoid his spinning sucker mallet attack by jumping on the bubbles. Use them to jump on his head to enact damage. By the end, he gets in the glass elevator and crashes out the window. You follow him outside by jumping on the bubbles.

2- a race up to the 2nd battle stage.

3- Running around the rim, avoiding cherry bombs and other attacks. Throw the bombs back when the elevator doors are open. After, he flies even higher. Downing a fizzy lifting drink, you follow.

4- Now in the cloudy sky, avoid the sneak attacks as the Great Glass Elevator rockets back and forth, up and down. Catch the cherry bombs and throw them at the elevator’s engine.

5- Damaged, the elevator falls all the way back down into the factory and...

6- BOOM! the factory begins exploding and collapse into a pile of rubble.

Also, yes the kids make it out alive after the factory is destroyed. All a bit worse for wear, but otherwise ok. Some deformation with their bruised egos. Maybe a bit more wiser on biting more than what they can chew.

Following the boss battle with Wonka, you speed run back through the factory; a mega one level marathon that sums up the 5 main rooms in the game up to now to escort the other kids out. Each of the other 4 aid in the escape via context specific command moments in the trek out of the factory: Augustus can plow through obstacles, Violet has some stretching and twisting ability, Veruca has her purse of many items, Mike can slip through grates and other narrow spots. Classic “boss is now playable, but not as OP as they were in the fight”.

Charlie (final design) Vs The Other Kids

So yeah, that's my pitch for my take of a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory game with the others as bosses.

What did you think?

#fanart #drawing #sketch #charlie and the chocolate factory #mike teavee #charlie bucket #violet beauregarde #augustus gloop #veruca salt #willy wonka #wonka #roald dahl #chocolate factory #idea #concepts #game concept art #very retro vibes I shot for

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theoneiroveil · 2 years ago

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Did you wake up on October 1st, 2016 to a very strange channel in your subscription box on Youtube?

Well if not, here is a little bit that channel.

Soursalt is a series that began in 2016 with roughly 600 people waking up subscribed to it without knowing. That's a very real thing that happened, which is a great selling point of the story.

Over the next few days these weirdly edited potato-quality home videos get uploaded and nobody has any idea what's going on. Some descriptions keep changing, some are pieces of conversations, etc. People are immediately hooked because what the fuck is going on? Then Madman Re starts getting mentioned, is it a place, a God, Freddy Krueger, who knows. More cryptic and weird dream videos get uploaded and then suddenly there's a break. This is the end of the prologue of the story.

Suddenly, we started getting rapid fire uploads a few months later of these two idiots making a really shitty ghost hunter parody knock off sketch. This is basically meant to be like a needle in the haystack for viewers. There are moments in these videos that are completely filler and just dumb comedy or filler -- b u t there are teases that something is up sprinkled within these videos. You'll have one of them mention the path looks different (implying they scouted it out before hand), or they'll hear or see something the camera just straight up doesn't see of pick up. This continues on until it's obviously getting dark, but we don't see their journey home. Instead, a few days later, we're treated to another sketch. This time shit gets fucky.

The two do the Ghost Guy routine on a haunted road by the woods, but as the move past the housed area towards the side of the park, their patience with each other starts running thin, they start hearing strange things, and feeling off. After taking a break off the road in a nearby Gazebo, they find a mysterious grave site and a stuffed monkey. Here, we learn out of character that they were filming at locations posted on a strange forum ; the same one implied to have launched the Soursalt spread.

After getting covered in some shit, blood and rot the characters introduce the audience to the Madman of Re as Aidan "Ghost Guy" Calloway touches the Window of a spooky run down bus and a ghastly hand touches his back -- all separated thematically by … a Window.

And this is where Soursalt takes you, into the Window; a terrifying physical nightmare space that seperates the viewer from their body and traps them in their own mind, a mind that can be easily manipulated by the Madman of Re.

BUT WAIT

This is only the end's beginning.

Timeskip -- Seven Years Later:

The story returns with Eulacram on the eve of the Spread's seven year anniversary following Aidan as he struggles to live with the trauma of his past and present following the events he experienced in Soursalt. It's at this point where the shattering of Aidan's mind takes literal form and we're presented with various versions of him through a system that he calls the Crucible Channel.

Meanwhile, another entity has pursued the same goal as Madman Re and sought out those that were victims of various Spreads to put together what it calls the Eulacram Tribute, a tournament of survival that allows those touched by the Oneiroveil (the dream realm the Window is in) to compete for an evolution of their flesh. Aidan and the other Spread victims are unknowingly pulled into a shared dream where it seems reality is once again being manipulated as their lives are being toyed with. However, Aidan's access to the Crucible Channel may be prove useful in saving him and the other victims from this new nightmare.

Eulacram is designed both as an Epilogue to Soursalt and its own series. While Soursalt is to be seen as a more found-footage style story, Eulacram utilizes the idea posed by the prologue that the entity can create videos with dreams, to showcase a cinematic-like view of events within the story. Some episodes can transition between hand-held, cinematic handheld, and cinematic third person, to allow for a unique approach on telling the story.

New viewers of the series can pick up with Act 1 or Act 2 Eulacram (on 10/1/23) without having fully watched Soursalt or Eulacram's prologue ; which will allow for an easier transition into the new content while everything you need to know will be given to you through the story. Viewers of the past content, and even those part of the first 600 subscribers will get the full experience though, as they will have seen the journey of some of these characters from the beginning, understanding the trauma that led them to becoming who they are today.

Soursalt // Eulacram is unlike any other web series you have seen, or dreamed. It's dark, gritty, there's a talking lizard, it's sharp and brutal at times ; but comedic, light hearted and emotional at others. The characters feel real, their pain feels real. If you're looking for web series horror that breaks the mould, takes risks, and isn't afraid to pop out an eye or two… or three… or ---

Then on October 1st, 2023, you should wake up to a very strange channel in your subscription box on Youtube.

This is that channel.

youtube

#soursalt #arg #creepypasta #webseries #horror #meatburger #slenderverse #everymanhybrid #eulacram #unfiction #tmc #the mandela catalogue #welcome home #nightmind #sour salt #marble hornets #indie horror #found footage #Youtube

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legacyofmanwich · 3 months ago

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Legacy of Manwich {2.2} Thrown to the Wolves

Regan and Goneril welcome you back to the Legacy of Manwich, where King Martin's polluting the gene pool in ways not seen since the Uglacy craze in 2007. I am newly unemployed, horribly lonely, and wallowing in misery, so maybe some Iconic Manwich Shenanigans will cheer me up.

Martin decides the foundation of his relationship with his daughters should be built upon, uh, lecturing them for no reason.

King Martin: "Listen here, baby, your behavior is entirely unprofessional. We hold ourselves to a standard, and if you're unable to meet these standards, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Hey, how about instead of giving infants a performance review, you be a normal dad and change their diapers?

A little help, Lillie?

Okay, do that instead, right in front of your daughters. Shrieking babies are the perfect background noise for couch sex. Can you guys keep your pants on for like, the five whole minutes it takes to change a baby?

King Martin: "Satisfying my wife is a full time job, I have no time for anything else!"

Okay, Martin, whatever. Don't cry to me when CPS takes your kids.

So I was trying to keep the girls happy one night and the event camera popped up with THIS FUCKING NIGHTMARE

Lillie was not present for any of this, but it was enough to make her a fucking rabid wolfaboo. Her wants? See a wolf. Befriend a wolf. Pet a wolf. Be a werewolf. I'M GONNA NIP THIS FURRY BULLSHIT IN THE BUD, TIME FOR A RUDE AWAKENING

Lillie: "Wow, this is a dream come true! I love wolves~!"

Tamiko: *SNARL GROWL*

Lillie: "OH GOD I HAD NO IDEA FERAL WOLVES WERE SUCH ASSHOLES!"

You're shocked?

Lillie: "Maybe a little hospitality will help her warm up to me! :)"

YOU LET HER INSIDE?! WITH YOUR INFANT BABIES LYING AROUND?!?!

WOW LILLIE YOUR GAME OF THRONES BULLSHIT BACKFIRED COMPLETELY!!

BYE ASSHOLE

Lillie: "Maybe the next wolf I meet will be a little nicer! >:("

NO MORE WOLVES

Problem: Regan and Goneril have shit themselves, as babies often do

Solution: SET THEIR ASSES STRAIGHT WITH A GOOD, STERN TALKING-TO

THANK GOD

Well, here's Goneril looking very much like her dipshit father. Regan's up next, and... uh...

Lillie: "Sorry, Dorito break."

Fine, I guess. Don't wipe your cheese grease all over the baby.

And here's Regan, partially obscured by confetti, but still very cute. Both Regan and Goneril ended up inheriting Lillie's best features, and they provide counter balance Martin's droopy, doughy genes as the girls get older.

I'm pretty pleased with how they turned out, to be honest. Could be worse!

King Martin: "The door opened on its own! Must be a ghost!"

No, it's just your neglected children crawling in to beg for food and attention. They wouldn't have to do that if you guys did anything other than bone.

King Martin: "This thing's gross, I don't want it!"

Sorry, I'd say return it, but Lillie's womb is fully booked. Funny thing about unprotected sex, it results in babies.

Tamiko: "If you let me in, I promise I'll be good!"

I DON'T TRUST LIKE THAT, BITCH, YOU STAY ON THE STREETS

Why yes, I did forget about Martin's stupid garden. Children aren't the only things being neglected around here; we're equal-opportunity deadbeats.

Well, clearly an attempt was made, so I can't be too mad.

Goneril: "STOP HAVING SEX AND TAKE CARE OF US!!"

Scream a little louder, maybe they'll hear you then.

PROGRESS!

We've got two kids and another on the way, and I've got loads of free time now, so expect me to post a bunch of these pretty rapid-fire. I pulled up tumblr the other day and saw I had some new followers and a bunch of likes on these, and I'm really grateful that Martin's getting noticed! Thank you very much for reading!

#the sims 2 #maxis match #ts2 #ts2 gameplay #the sims 2 legacy challenge #ts2mm #sims 2 gameplay #the manwich legacy

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hux-and-gay · 5 months ago

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Episode 3

“I was being romantic and then you just go and distract me with your kinky fuckery.”

THIS EPISODE IS NSFW

master post

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So where we left or the Domhnalls were hosting a house party, inviting their new neighbors over for dinner. Everyone was hitting it off but two of them were REALLY hitting it off.

Mitaka and Thomas McGregor

Thomas of course said yes, and thus McTaka was born (I will die for this ship) and rather then utilizing Thomas’s whole private first floor suite they went upstairs and fucked in Tim’s bed 😂

Then when he was all tired out Thomas went to sleep on Hux’s ice blue couch.

meanwhile Stensland was sitting on the edge of the hot tub, butt naked, completely out in the open, jerking himself off.

and because aperantly everyone was ignoring dinner Thomas and Mitaka went right back at it again. And Thomas being responsible put a condom on… when he was not the one that needed one in that moment 🤦

While that was going on everyone was we chilling, chatting eating dinner. And Hux was fixing his broken coffee machine cause you know he needs that shit. Then everyone went home.

——————————————————————————————

Now that was only a small taste of what was to come (lol come) because as the next day rolled around… it was time, To host the sex party.

What this party means is a lot of people will be asking to fuck but most of the time their romance bars will not go up and it means nothing for their relationships. I also made a rule for myself that I would say yes to everything

And as soon as it started this happened

Pretty sure if Hux is asking Thomas for Sex he really just means he wants to fuck himself.

Immediately afterwards we got Hitaka guys!!!!

Then I discovered how similar Tim and Ash look on sims

I know they’re fucking Matt and Clyde (or rather being fucked by) but I have no clue who’s with who. (Later found out Tim was with Matt) Anyway not I call Tim and Ash twins.

Kylo and Bill is a very attractive paring I think and I kind of live for it. Also that question in particular is totally how Kylo would ask.

Phasma then asked Thomas to have sex. Yes I know she is a lesbian but I made it so she would have sex with both men and women she’s just not attracted to men. I was going to take a picture of her asking but I realized you could see Hitaka fucking in the background and at this point I was not bold enough to take photos of that… that will come later

Then Techie, Stensland, and Thomas Burberry had a three way goin on, Clyde joined Kylo and Bill, Hux and Matt started fucking, Thomas and Mitaka rekindled their spark from the day prior, and when techie was done with Stensland and Thomas B. He joined Tim and Ash who were goin at it.

I thought the party would end but it didn’t so I’ll continue the rapid fire.

Thomas B. And Hux, Kylo and Thomas, Clyde and Bill, Phasma and Clyde… and then… it happened

KYLUX

Only took like a whole ass day to get there, and where did they choose to fuck? The god damn toilet. Come on guys 💀

Meanwhile in a different bathroom Thomas B. casually took a piss while Mitaka and Matt were fucking in the tub beside him

It’s been over a day and there was no end in sight. At this point I was ready for people to go home but the sims had other plans

Kylo and Stensland, Clyde and Ash again, Phasma and Tim, Thomas B. And Bill, Clyde and Bill, Hitaka joined by Techie, Thomas, Stensland, and Bill with either Tim or Ahs watching (I can’t tell them apart guys)

——————————————————————————————

At one point the game crashed and I loaded it up to find Kylo Yelling at air?

I got the notif

“Stensland is having sex”

I go check

His “Sex” is just him sulking while Kylo rubs his back

Then Finally people started going home but Mitaka was still there! He was lying in the middle of the bed with Hux and Techie on either side of him as he jerked them off… which honestly kinda hot, BUT DUDE GO HOME

he eventually did, but the party did not go without consequences…

~To be continued~

——————————————————————————————

@dragonflies-draw-flame

@lavendergarnet

@huxkisser

@rommonoch

@misbon-god-of-mischief

@fizzydreamz

@sariastrategos

@saint-baph

@fives-ren

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mariacallous · 4 months ago

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WASHINGTON (AP) — President Donald Trump abruptly fired Air Force Gen. CQ Brown as chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff on Friday, sidelining a history-making fighter pilot and respected officer as part of a campaign to rid the military of leaders who support diversity and equity in the ranks.

The ouster of Brown, only the second Black general to serve as chairman, is sure to send shock waves through the Pentagon. His 16 months in the job had been consumed with the war in Ukraine and the expanded conflict in the Middle East.

“I want to thank General Charles ‘CQ’ Brown for his over 40 years of service to our country, including as our current Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He is a fine gentleman and an outstanding leader, and I wish a great future for him and his family,” Trump posted on social media.

Trump says he is nominating Air Force Lt. Gen. Dan “Razin” Caine to be the next chairman. Caine is a career F-16 pilot who served on active duty and in the National Guard, and had most recently served as the associate director for military affairs at the CIA, according to his official military biography.

Brown had spent the day at the U.S.-Mexico border, assessing the military’s rapid buildup of forces to meet Trump’s executive order on countering illegal immigration.

Trump acted despite support for Brown among key members of Congress and a seemingly friendly meeting with him in mid-December, when the two were seated next to each other for a time at the Army-Navy football game. Brown had been meeting regularly with Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, who took over the top Pentagon job just four weeks ago.

But Brown’s future was called into question during the Senate Armed Services Committee’s confirmation hearing for Hegseth last month. Asked if he would fire Brown, Hegseth responded bluntly, “Every single senior officer will be reviewed based on meritocracy, standards, lethality and commitment to lawful orders they will be given.”

Hegseth has embraced Trump’s effort to end programs that promote diversity, equity and inclusion in the ranks and fire those who reflect those values.

Hegseth had previously taken aim at Brown. “First of all, you gotta fire, you know, you gotta fire the chairman of Joint Chiefs,” he said flatly in a podcast in November. And in one of his books, he questioned whether Brown got the job because he was Black.

“Was it because of his skin color? Or his skill? We’ll never know, but always doubt — which on its face seems unfair to CQ. But since he has made the race card one of his biggest calling cards, it doesn’t really much matter,” Hegseth wrote.

As he walked into the Pentagon on his first day as defense chief on Jan. 27, however, Hegseth was asked directly if he planned to fire Brown.

“I’m standing with him right now,” said Hegseth, patting Brown on the back as they headed into the building. “Look forward to working with him.”

In his second term, Trump has asserted his executive authority in a much stronger way and removed most carryover officials from President Joe Biden’s term, even though in typical transitions, many of those positions are meant to carry over independently from one administration to the next.

A career F-16 fighter pilot with more than 3,000 flight hours and command experience at all levels, Brown is known as a calm but determined leader with a track record for driving institutional change. His selection as chairman was seen as key to propelling the military from two decades of war in the Middle East to a focus on preparing for and deterring potential conflict with China.

Just prior to his Senate confirmation vote in June 2020 to become chief of the Air Force, Brown gained some attention when he spoke out on the police killing of George Floyd the month before. While he knew it was risky, he said, discussions with his wife and sons about the killing convinced him he needed to say something.

As protests roiled the nation, Brown posted a video message to the Air Force titled, “Here’s What I’m Thinking About.” He described the pressures that came with being one of the few Black men in his unit. He recalled pushing himself “to perform error-free” as a pilot and officer his whole life, but still facing bias. He said he’d been questioned about his credentials, even when he wore the same flight suit and wings as every other pilot.

“I’m thinking about my mentors, and how I rarely had a mentor that looked like me,” Brown said in the video. “I’m thinking about how my nomination provides some hope, but also comes with a heavy burden — I can’t fix centuries of racism in our country, nor can I fix decades of discrimination that may have impacted members of our Air Force.”

Brown was overwhelmingly confirmed by the Senate with a vote of 98-0. Not long afterward, his name began to surface as the likely successor to Gen. Mark Milley, who was set to retire as chairman.

Brown’s path to the chairmanship was troubled — he was among the more than 260 senior military officers whose nominations were stalled for months by Republican Sen. Tommy Tuberville of Alabama. Tuberville caused ire in the Senate and organizational juggling in the Pentagon when he blocked the confirmations in protest over a department policy that paid for travel when a service member had to go out of state to get an abortion or other reproductive care.

But when the Senate vote was finally taken in September 2023, Brown easily was confirmed by a vote of 89-8.

As chairman, Brown spent much of his time on the wars in Ukraine and the Middle East, helping to determine what military aid to send to Kyiv and coordinating support for Israel as it battled Hamas and fought off several significant attacks from Iran.

Born in San Antonio, Texas, Brown is from a family of Army soldiers. His grandfather led a segregated Army unit in World War II and his father was an artillery officer and Vietnam War veteran. Brown grew up on several military bases, which helped instill in him a sense of mission.

It had been 30 years since Colin Powell became the first Black chairman, serving from 1989 to 1993. But while African Americans made up 17.2% of the 1.3 million active-duty service members, only 9% of officers were Black, according to a 2021 Defense Department report.

Brown’s service as chairman made history in that this was the first time that both the defense secretary, Lloyd Austin, and the Joint Chiefs chairman were Black.

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novella-november · 10 months ago

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Is Ominous October going to happen this year or are we just jumping straight to Novella November?

that's a great question!

Dp you guys want to do Ominous October this year, or start it up next year so there's more prep time?

Recap on Ominous October: one of my ideas for year-round, monthly writing events, to keep everyone in the habit of writing a little bit every day, instead of only feeling like November is the only time to write lol.

October [20k total / 714 each day] -- Ominous October -- A choice of themes will be decided on before October, two options for each week, and everyone will write a 5k word short horror/spooky story each week, that all get posted on October 31st / Halloween.

I have a feeling a lot of people will want to do it this year, and if so we gotta work fast on getting prompts because we're already just 3 weeks away from October lol....

So! feel free to start sending in spooky/horror prompts, and we can have some rapid-fire show-down polls (each lasting 24 hours instead of a week) to quickly get 8 prompts/ themes, two for each week in October, and hopefully still have plenty of time for prep before October starts!

Prompts can be a mix of single words and short sentences.

#replies #novella november #novellanovember #Ominous October #Polls #Prompt Polls #Ominous October 2024 #?

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syneilesis · 1 year ago

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[fic] Floriography

Floriography

By next week, and the several following, Vlad gives you flowers.

A/N: One last fic before my vacation ends! Another installment to my university crossover AU! This one is just silly and pointless and I don't know why it's reach this word count lol. In this particular fic, characters from other ikeseries games show up, and there are some callbacks to the previous fics for worldbuilding lol. I'm not an expert of floriography, I just used this as reference.

The day the news broke out that the university president has been kicked out and replaced by a new one, is the day that you wake up as if your muscles are replaced by lead.

Sore, aching in places you don’t even know can ache, your heavy eyes struggling to pry open, you—after ten minutes of intense internal deliberation—decide to call in sick. This is rare, but the recent months have thrown you into a waterfall of activities: traveling to conferences, organizing events, research projects, department-related excursions—these on top of teaching and grading papers and lots and lots and lots of meetings held consecutively in separate buildings.

You steal a few more minutes of sleep, but the responsible (read: guilty) person that you are, you grab your phone on the desk beside your bed and fire off a heads up in your department group chat. An email announcement for today’s classes will be written a little later.

Not even ten seconds in and your phone lights up like fireworks.

HEY HEY YOURE MISSING OUT

Oh, no. Rest well, doc.

Oh my god guys! Did you read the paper?

Moving forward, what’s in it for us?

Its aLready been poSTED in teh WEBSITE!!!!!!!!

Proper typing please, prof. This is still a professional group chat.

You squint at the stream of chats as you try to feel for a sleeping position that wouldn’t exacerbate the soreness in your calves. The nerves at your nape feel pinched and your shoulder muscles burn. Thank god it’s almost the weekend; you think you won’t come to work until next week.

Then, in a private chat, one of your colleagues sends you a link to a livestream of an emergency announcement. On the thumbnail is the Executive Secretary Kicho’s face, and despite the woozy state of mind and body, you tap on the video.

“—thus, from this day onwards, our new university president—”

A close up shot of the HR director, looking like when Professor Clavis has installed a giant disco ball on top of the historical main building—again. A panicked glare towards the secretary, who ignores it, then a rapid blinking that can be interpreted as repeated SOS directly to the camera. The live comments are on fire: some asking what happened to the previous president, some celebrating the disappearance of the previous president, and some lamenting over the future of the university. Two in particular are a momentous standout:

Dr. Clavis Lelouch Haha so we’re allowing insurrections now? Splendid! @Chevalier Michel sleep with one eye open 👈(ﾟヮﾟ👈)

Kenshin Uesugi, PhD I will join the insurrection and challenge Michel to a duel to the death.

It’s chaos afterwards. You spare a sympathetic thought for your HR-Director-promoted-to-University-President. But, really, you’re too out of it and in pain to care. Sleep calls, and it is not to be denied.

A few hours more of sleep, breakfast, and an email announcement to your classes (with additional assignments so your students won’t slack off) later, there’s a knock on the front door.

On the other side of the doorway, a bouquet of gladioli and yellow tulips greets you. This is held by a pair of elegant-fingered hands attached to a beautiful specimen of a man, who is currently gracing you with the sweetest smile that has ever existed in your lifelong awareness.

“Special delivery!”

Vlad passes you the flowers, your hands coming up to meet the gift in reflex. You met Vlad—a pretty and charming florist across your building—right after you moved into your apartment. Noticing the moving truck, he had wandered into the building and introduced himself, a pot of anthurium in hand. You were so taken by his kind and pure heart that you’d swore to yourself to protect this man and buy flowers from him regularly. To this day, the anthurium is still alive and bright-colored in your living room.

“I didn’t order this?” you say, admiring the flowers. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s a get-well-soon gift from your students. They asked me to deliver it to you, since they have classes all day today and couldn't do it themselves.”

That’s sweet of them, to make a gesture like this. It warms your heart, and you bring the bouquet closer to your chest.

You almost forget that Vlad is standing outside the hallway, and he’s watching you with a curious glint in his eyes.

“Oh! I bought a strawberry cake yesterday. Have some as my thanks.”

“I won’t say no to that.”

You also brew him coffee, explaining that the combination is a feast on the taste buds. Vlad just hums in agreement, definitely not protesting against free strawberry-made food. As he enjoys the pastry, you sip your own coffee in contentment, the floral gift already arranged and added into the coziness of your living area.

Midway through decimating his cake, Vlad comments, “This is my first time inside your home.”

You pause. “Truly?”

“Truly.” He turns a little to his left, where the large windows overlook the campus, the sun glaring behind the edge of the main building far to the right. “Ah! The anthurium I gave you is still healthy.”

“Of course. I’ve been pretty diligent about taking care of it.”

Vlad smiles so prettily that your heart forgets to fulfil its function for a couple of seconds. Will that have to be added to your list of things to ask your doctor?

When all is finished, Vlad lingers in the hallway as you bid him goodbye. Then he asks, “Will you also call in sick tomorrow?”

You think about it for a moment. “If I still feel sore, then maybe. But as much as possible, I don’t want to cancel classes again.”

He takes the liberty to smoothen the wrinkles on your shirt, a move that you find odd yet not unwelcome. “I see. Then, rest well. I’ll see you around.”

The remaining hours of the day are spent on the bed, hot compress soothing your heavy muscles, while you catch up with your leisure reading. Every now and then your thoughts drift to the memory of Vlad’s smile, how it’s caught in the late morning sun, an example of perfect geometry. You don’t notice it—but your own lips curve of their own accord.

And then your phone buzzes with the group chat notification, the preview text saying, OUR SPY SAYS SURPRISE AUDIT TOMORR…

The next day, you come into the department office warmly welcomed by a mess of papers and Hideyoshi at the end of his wits.

“I’m sorry you have to come to work,” he says by way of greeting, the black undereye circles he’s sporting so obvious in his haggard face. “I would’ve told you to rest some more, but Mitsuhide says that the head auditor is personally seeing the audit of our college.”

You nod in sympathy. It’s not like your college doesn’t comply with the university standards—in fact, it’s one of the most compliant colleges ever, lauded (sarcastically though) by Executive Secretary Kicho whenever he has the opportunity for it. It’s just that, there’s a weird and tension-filled rivalry going on with your dean and the director of internal audit. Every time they cross paths you swear that the air thickens and darkens, static raising the hair on your arms and nape. It drives Hideyoshi insane and Mitsuhide gleeful. Dean Nobunaga, though—he’s just amused and so nonchalant about it all.

“S’okay, I planned on coming anyway. Uh, good luck to us, I guess? What time will the audit happen?”

“In the afternoon, right after lunch break—we have a little more time.” Hideyoshi sighs. Behind him your colleagues pass around a jug of coffee, the enticing smell reaching your nose. “It’s not that we’re not prepared, but we’ve been informed that today is going to be different. How exactly it will be different, I don’t know. Mitsuhide didn’t say.”

“But is Dean Nobunaga worried about it?”

Hideyoshi jolts at that. “Not at all! Our—our dean has full confidence in our capabilities. It’s just that—well …”

Hideyoshi’s devotion to Nobunaga has been a main topic in the college for some time now—ever since he assumed the position of associate dean, in fact. Apparently something happened between them in the past that made the once-average-performing student Hideyoshi shoot for graduating with distinction so that he could follow Nobunaga in whatever field he was taking. It isn’t like it’s a secret, but the teasing became so much for Hideyoshi he’d now get embarrassed whenever somebody mentions that particular point of his past around him.

Sometimes, you catch him unconsciously referring to the dean as ‘Lord Nobunaga’, but you don’t bring that up to him ever.

“It’s just that the audit director has been trying to sabotage our college and destroy our reputation! I can’t let that happen.” Hideyoshi’s phone rings, and he warily turns around. “I must check the other departments. We’ll have our post-audit meeting later. In the meantime, don’t push yourself too much, okay? Where’re the dept-heads when you need them …”

When you place your bag on your desk, a colleague offers you a mug of coffee, which you take gratefully. “Happy Friday, I guess?” you offer.

It’s met with a snort. “Say that again after you finish filing all your student evaluation forms. Bet it hasn’t even reached seventy percent compliance.”

Your co-faculty is right. “Mine’s sixty-three.”

“Ouch. You still have class this morning, right? There’s still time. Happy Friday.”

You sigh, thinking about begging your students to fill out their evaluation form again. Happy Friday indeed.

“Vlad!”

“Oh, hello.”

There are two other customers perusing the displays, curiously sniffing the blooms. Instead of meandering around, you head straight to the counter, where Vlad is rearranging the decorations beside the cash register. He waves a hand goodbye at the one customer who exits without buying anything and glances at the other, who’s still smelling the flowers. When his shining eyes fall upon you, you momentarily forget what you’re supposed to say.

“Uh—oh, right! I’d like to place an order,” you say, checking your phone for any additional instructions. When you find none, you go back to Vlad, who’s watching you with his customer service smile. “A bouquet for our boss, something that means respect and success and great job and all.”

“Hmm.” The smile cracks and becomes more excited. “Did something good happen?”

“We just survived a surprise audit. Everybody was ready to demolish our building out of sheer panic, but Dean Nobunaga led us to victory. The audit director looked so frustrated! We just want to celebrate tonight. Can it be done?”

“Of course, you can count on me.” Vlad steps out of the counter. Somewhere in the corner, the other customer sneezes. “I already have something in mind. I’ll get on to it right away.”

He shows you a preliminary illustration of the bouquet, and you, knowing nothing about the language of flowers, agree to everything he suggests. It’s paid by the college budget anyway, so whatever. When the flowers are finalized, you hand him Hideyoshi’s card. Vlad raises an amused brow, having gotten to know the man via your recountings of your college shenanigans whenever you drop by, but swipes it wordlessly.

“I’ll pick it up later, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

At the door you turn and see the remaining customer having an allergic reaction to sunflowers. Caught off-guard by the scene, you approach the person to help, meeting Vlad’s concerned eyes at the other side. It takes you an hour for the matter to settle, and you finally leave the flower shop, Vlad’s soft, cool voice lingering behind you.

By next week, and the several following, Vlad gives you flowers.

Not a bouquet, just one hand-picked flower that he offers you by the apartment exit with a cheerful smile and a morning greeting.

“What’s this?” you ask.

“Just something to brighten your mood,” he answers.

And that would be that, except every day it’s a different flower: today it’s an amethyst flower; tomorrow it’s angelica flower; the day after that it’s lesser celandine; and so on and so forth. There’s no pattern to the choices of flowers he gifts you, and oftentimes you wonder if he’s just carding through the types of flowers alphabetically for no reason at all.

It comes to a point where even Nobunaga makes mention of it:

“Your admirer is committed to their daily presents, I see.”

He’s caught you on the way to your department office, studying the flower as if it holds all the answers to the universe. You freeze at your dean’s voice, and Nobunaga takes the opportunity to intimidate you through proximity. He eyes the flower before gauging your reaction, and something in your face delights him, because he grins and says:

“White clover. Interesting.”

It takes a few more seconds, but you manage to gather your wits.

“It’s just from the florist near my apartment building. He’s nice and generous enough to give me flowers to ‘brighten my mood’, as he put it.”

“Indeed.”

Nobunaga’s grin hasn’t slipped off, and a grinning Nobunaga means a dangerous Nobunaga. You still remember that time when he audaciously announced that he intended to unify all colleges under his lofty purview, which incited a whole spectrum of responses ranging from sardonic amusement (Dean Sariel) to a declaration of war (Professor Kenshin). It’s risky to stay inside the perimeter of a scheming Nobunaga, so you pretend to look around and gasp dramatically, pointing to a corner as if expecting somebody to materialize out of thin air.

“Oh, look! Isn’t that Doc Hideyoshi coming to get you? Well, dean, it’s nice to talk to you. See you around!”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of responding when he calls out, “I’ll guess tomorrow’s choice—peach blossoms.”

Vlad’s flowers are too beautiful to put away once they wither, so you elect to press them and have them framed in your home.

But as you stare at the array of the colorful gifts for you, you can’t help but think of what Nobunaga told you earlier. It haunts you until the next day, when Vlad hands you a frame of pressed peach blossom flowers.

“Peach blossoms are out of season,” he elaborates, “so I preserved them until I can give them to you.”

The words escape you quicker than your brain can catch them:

“What the hell?”

Vlad falters, his genial smile wavering, and you scramble to accept the gift with a sheepish smile of your own. A dour Vlad makes the world go dimmer, so you try to salvage your faux pas.

“I’m sorry! I just meant—you’re going to think it strange. Yesterday, my boss saw your gift and then predicted that today’s flower would be peach blossoms. And he’s right! I can’t believe he’s right.”

As you recount your conversation with your dean, Vlad listens in rapt attention, his expression serious, until you mention Nobunaga’s parting words, and that lights up Vlad’s face. “Oh,” he says, narrow-eyed pleasure uplifting his features. “What an interesting man.”

“Is he? He just made a lucky guess, I bet.”

“Why don’t you ask him what he thinks? Maybe he guessed my intentions correctly as well.”

That makes you pause. “What are your intentions?”

Vlad chuckles. He taps your nose once, almost teasing but also fond. Your heart skips a beat.

“That takes out the fun, doesn’t it?”

Later, at the faculty room, Nobunaga sweeps by and sees the framed peach blossoms on your desk. The smirk he’s adorning is practically radioactive in its smugness.

Before the end of the day, you cave.

You march up all the way to Nobunaga’s office, heedless of Hideyoshi’s offended squawk, and demand, “All right. Explain.”

Nobunaga leans back on his plush leather chair and eyes you critically, arms folded across his chest. If you were anybody else, and Nobunaga anybody else, the way you treat your boss could invite a surprise visit from the HR. But you’ve been working in this institution for a while now, and four-fifths of those years had Nobunaga as your dean. He may be intimidating at first—and he still is—but you’ve discovered that underneath that warlord-philosophy he’s got going for your college is a big brother who would readily tease his younger siblings with relish at every opportunity.

Which makes him all the worse when you think about it.

Behind you, Hideyoshi attempts to catch your attention. “What do you think you’re doing—”

“White clover. Think of me.”

You and Hideyoshi both halt and stare at Nobunaga. The twin looks of confusion fail to daunt him.

“In the language of flowers, white clover means think of me.”

He lets the words hang in the air, and you and Hideyoshi glance at each other—he bewildered and you boggled.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you doubting Lor—Dean Nobunaga?!”

You level Hideyoshi a pointed look. He coughs discreetly. Before you can say anything further, Nobunaga redirects back the topic at hand.

“I am certain. You may ask me about the meanings of other flowers, if you wish.”

“Okay … Amethyst flower?”

“Admiration.”

“Angelica flower?”

“Inspiration.”

“Lesser celandine?”

“Happiness coming your way.”

“Hibiscus?”

“Delicate beauty.”

You pause at that. “What? Really?” You shake your head. “Uh … Viole—blue violet?”

“Faithfulness.”

“... Peach blossom?”

Here Nobunaga smirks, just like earlier. He lets the silence marinate for a bit before dropping the bomb.

“I am your captive.”

Hideyoshi gasps; you’re not sure why—he’s not the one being wooed. The two of them await your response, Hideyoshi vibrating with what you suspect is materteral commentary on the subject matter.

“Seriously?” you say.

Nobunaga just nods.

“Is someone courting you?” Hideyoshi explodes, grabbing your shoulders and whirling you to him. His expression is a little frantic, as if he can’t believe that he wasn’t informed of this. You’re tempted to say that he can always adopt you if he wants to continue indulging himself of his motherly urges. “You know them well, right? You’re getting to know them well? They have a stable job, right? What’s their annual salary rate? They better not have any criminal record. Have you asked for their CV—”

“Okay,” you declare, escaping the associate dean’s line of interrogation and heading towards the door. “Thanks for the answers, Boss. And Doc Hideyoshi—you might as well slap my suitor’s face with money based on how you’re shaking right now. Anyway, gotta go.”

“Wait, I’m not finished—”

“Byyyyeeeee!”

Tomorrow comes, and just like any previous days, Vlad is waiting for you by the apartment building exit, and this time the flower he offers you is a rose. Red and fully blossomed.

“This is the most beautiful rose that bloomed in my garden,” he explains without your prompting. “I’d like for you to have it.”

Hesitation colors your movements. Even you know what a red rose means. Vlad’s gaze is guileless, and you’ve no doubt that the man knows that by giving you a rose, he’s declaring something with intent.

Though it's only a single flower, its fragrance is remarkably potent. “A-Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You know what this means, right?” And, because you can’t help yourself, you add: “I asked what the other flowers’ meanings are.”

“And what did you find out?”

So you tell him what transpired the day before. Vlad listens diligently, a serene light cast on his face. When you enumerate the list of flowers he’s given you the past weeks and what they symbolize, the calm smile that curves Vlad’s mouth widens and widens.

When you finish, Vlad’s grinning, white teeth sparkling against the morning sun. For some unfathomable reason, the thought of him being a perfect toothpaste model renders you distracted. You nearly miss him stepping closer to you.

He leans towards the side of your face, his hand grasping one of yours and pushes something on your palm. Your fingers enclose on a narrow stem, thornless.

Then Vlad whispers into your ear, “So … have I succeeded, then? Did you think of me in the last several weeks?”

He also smells of roses. This close, you note the floral scents that cling to him strongly. Like he’s bathed every day in flowers.

“Well?” he spurs, and the warmth of his breath accelerates your heartbeat. It makes you realize the lack of distance you have with each other.

“Oh,” you mumble, shifting your feet. Vlad remains in his position. And then, softer: “Constantly.”

Vlad sighs happily, pressing his nose against your hair and inhales your scent. You jump in surprise, not expecting that. But before you can make another move, he’s lessened his proximity to you, hands on his back, head tilted, innocent smile on.

“Did you … Did you just—”

“I’ll send a frame of pressed agrimony to your boss, and—” Vlad looks at you slyly “—attach my CV while I’m at it.”

You blink.

“What.”

⇼

Endnotes:

Other reactions from Nobunaga's unification goal: confusion (Prof. Isaac); bloodthirst (Head of Security Motonari); airheaded intrigue (Prof. Dazai); nosy intrigue (Prof. Arthur); resentment (School of Divinity Dean Kennyo); rebellion plotting (then-Prof. Kicho); a raised eyebrow (Prof. Michel); pure stressed out (then-HR Director); pure amusement (Director of Audit); refusal to be one-upped by this villainy (Prof. Clavis); etc. etc.

The apartment building you live in is owned by the kind landlord, Comte.

Vlad deliberately set up his flower shop across the apartment building so he could unnerve Comte whenever the landlord visited the building. When Vlad had developed an interest in you, Comte barged in his flower shop once and threatened Vlad not to hurt his tenant. Vlad sent him hops flowers, just because.

You luckily managed to reach 70% compliance in student evaluation that day before the audit session. Happy Friday.

Hideyoshi reads Vlad's CV and ruptures his blood vessels. Mitsuhide is there to see it in real-time.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire fic #ikevamp fic #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp vlad x reader #ikemen vampire vlad x reader #cybird university verse #fic #my fic

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