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[hells-greatestdad]

// sorry for taking longer than expected on replies to threads and also messages

it will happen again. I appreciate the patience though :>

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 | Joel Miller x reader

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summary | Joel notices you've been overworking yourself and frankly, he won't allow it.

author's note | this is a request fill! thank you to 'non for sending this in, it's been nice to write some softer, fluffier fics <3

content warning | 18+ MDNI, jackson!joel, established dynamic, unrequited feelings toward one another, reader working two jobs in jackson, mentions of injuries, reader is exhausted and overworked but compartmentalizing it, protective!joel, fluff, joel being the sweetest man, shower smut and a much needed orgasm

word count — 6k

Joel’s got a gift.

He knows things—most of the time.

It was a sense, a lay of the land, he liked to call it.

But, you had managed to slip under his radar for too long.

He sought you out often, knowing you were reliable. 

If he needed something fixed in a pinch? You had it.

A project to build in a day or two? You’d work twice as hard.

Forcing himself to work into the night on his own? You were always there to offer support.

It didn’t go unnoticed, but Joel had let you slip by the wayside lately.

Because, when you were around him, you were happy. 

Bright, full of a life he couldn’t ever manage to encompass, admiring how people fed off of your energy, always laughing and smiling in your presence.

Joel didn’t deserve that—so often, he kept his distance.

Though, that didn’t stop him from late night conversations and drinking to wrap up a build when you often helped him finish up projects that would easily have taken him through the night, getting it done before dawn just so Joel could catch himself a few hours of sleep.

If he wasn’t talking about the work that needed to be done around town, he’d listen to you talk about nonsense that neither of you would remember come morning. He liked to talk to you about Ellie, knowing little about their relationship other than it being complicated, albeit Joel seemed to have a distinct care for it.

For her.

He could be more of himself when it was just you two, alone. 

No watchful eyes to scrutinize you or him—as lovely as Jackson was, gossip and conversation was all most people could cling to outside of their daily jobs within the walls.

Summer in Jackson meant that there would be a swell of projects during the short three month window—but that also meant more of a workload to take on when you weren’t on the job with Joel.

The primary seamstress in Jackson had been backed up for months and you offered to share some of the stress, working dutifully on your days and hours off, even into the dark and quiet hours of the night where everything seemed to draw still.

Your hands ached for a number of reasons, but the pricks and pokes from sewing and twisting and holding your fingers in one position for an extended period of time had proved your body wasn’t handling the overload of work in a healthy manner.

And it didn’t help that often woke up with a distinct heat in your back, a sharp pain that tugged when you kneeled down to far or overexerted yourself with carrying around supplies, hiding the grimace in your face when Joel was around as you buried your head and trudged past.

But, Joel takes notice one particular morning.

Usually you’re good at hiding it, but with the amount of men who were showing up to your doorstep with rips in their jeans and shirts tattered to hell, you had been trying your best to keep yourself afloat.

“We’ve got six builds that need to be finished by the end of the week,” Joel begins as he leans against his desk, flipping through a thin stack of papers as he lists off what projects were taking priority and who would be assigned where.

Joel is habitual, making sure that every one of you makes eye contact with him as he explains what he expects of the day, going down the line until he lands on you, realizing that your eyes had drifted shut and your head rested against your fist.

Quietly, he waves everyone out to start the day before he approaches you quietly, twisting up the paper into a thin cylinder before he taps it against your cheek, his opposite hand resting against his hip.

You wake with a sudden startle, glancing tiredly around the room to find it empty.

Except for Joel.

Joel, who was staring down at you with a mix of amusement and worry, mouth downturned but his eyes soft, slowly morphing into a kind smile as your eyes landed on him.

“I’m sorry,” you say without him speaking, suddenly sleeping as you tuck your hands between your legs and Joel notices the bandages wrapped around your fingers, sparsely throughout but still enough that he takes notice, “I’m sorry, really,”

“You sleepin’ alright?” Joel asks curiously, tilting his head further to look at you as you nod, only managing to look at him briefly before your chin dips, massaging the inside of your palm with the fingers of your opposite hand.

You notice Joel’s hand extend as he tosses the papers on his desk, a movement that you don’t immediately react to, but as you glance up to look at Joel, his lips are pulled tight, repeating the motion with his fingers as he silently asks for your hand.

Reluctantly, you offer one hand and his other palm opens, accepting the other.

Joel notices the healing cuts on the inside of your palm, some fresher than others, and the white cloth wrapped tight around suspected wounds of a similar nature, some tinged with a faint pink and Joel sighs, a harsh breath through his nose.

“You know, I’m not a masochist,” Joel explains, and you look at him with a raised brow of disbelief, one that he responds with a faint tug of a smile as he turns his head away to answer as he scrunches his nose to wash away twitch of his lips,  “I’m not gonna hate you for askin’ for a day off—two, if you need it,”

“These aren’t—” you quickly tug your hands away, “they’re not from building or anything,”

Joel raises his eyebrows in curiosity, silently asking you to elaborate.

“I dunno, you know how I am,” you begin to ramble softly, the couch dipping with weight as Joel comes to sit by you, elbows resting on his knees as he listens, “I get restless, I need to keep myself busy—I thought I could help out Elaine with fixing up clothes, stuff is precious, you know?”

“When do you have the time?” Joel asks, well aware of your schedule as you rarely left time for yourself outside of work and mandatory town meetings once a week.

“When I’m off,” you shrug, admitting more quietly, “usually at night or mornings when I can’t sleep, sometimes I’ll try to fit it in during a lunch break or something,”

“Or something,” Joel echoes, nodding as he laughs softly, “well—you just earned yourself a vacation then,”

“No, I’m fine,” you assure him, “a cup of coffee and I’ll be on my feet just fine. I’ve got insomnia, I’m a little worn down, but I don’t need special treatment,”

You try to match his rhythm as he stands, refusing to be bossed around but the pain in your back comes back tenfold and you wince through clenched teeth as Joel’s hand hovers out of instinct, looking up at him with a subtle annoyance he had become very familiar with.

“Special treatment my ass,” Joel retorts, “I’m lookin’ out for you like I would any of the others,”

Somehow, you find that to be untrue.

He can see it on your face, too.

“I’m your boss,” Joel argues, “you really wanna argue with me?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“Alright, three days off” Joel challenges and you sigh, throwing your hands up in defeat.

“Fine, I’ll take a couple days off,” you agree, though obviously reluctant. 

Joel walkies Tommy a moment later, explaining the situation vaguely as he gives his younger brother the rundown for the day, seeming to pass off his own responsibilities too.

“You’re good at that,” Tommy comments as Joel grabs his mug from the edge of his desk, “pissin’ him off without tryin’—ain’t as good as me, but—”

“Tommy,” Joel warns with a dismissive roll of his eyes before he nods for you to follow him, his hand hovering behind your back with a presence that overwhelms you, feeling the heat of his hand so near but not quite touching.

You look over to find his face pensive, but aware of your gaze, his face softening at your own expression, feeling your own attempt at a lack of emotion slip as you chew at the inside of your cheek, a moment of understanding seeming to string you together.

Joel wasn’t going down without a fight, but neither were you.

–

His initial instinct is to walk you to your own home—comfort in your own environment and all, but the moment he steps through the door, he’s bombarded.

He trips over a stack of clothes labeled SETH and narrowly avoids another pile labeled JOHN, looking around at several stacks of clothes assigned to various people in Jackson.

 At least thirty, if not forty.

You flinch as he grabs for the door handle, swinging it open to keep balance as he turns to you, the guilt washing over your face almost instantly, cheeks heated with embarrassment.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” you start, eyes flitting around without any real target, pointedly avoiding him, “...it’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Oh, darlin’,” he sighs, tenderly cupping the side of your head, his fingers scratching gently behind your ear—it shouldn’t make you feel small, but it does.

Joel rarely touched you and it was always friendly.

“You guys’ve done so much for me,” you explain, “I was near dead when you and Tommy found me, I’m just tryin’ to do my share, seeing as you both saved my life. I kinda owe it to you, the town, y’know?”

“Not if it takes you runnin’ yourself ragged to do it,” Joel argues, his hand pulling away as it curls into a fist—you can’t see it, but Joel does it out of reflex.

As physical as he could be—you’ve seen him loud, defensive, in the face of some young, spry individual that was a little too cocky than he should’ve been, begging to be knocked down a peg. You’ve seen him attack to protect his own, but when it came to something simpler, softer, it just felt…wrong.

“I promise I’ll relax,” you tell him, a half-truth that Joel can see straight through.

“Ain’t good enough for me,” Joel admits, moving his fingers in a circular motion for you to turn, “you’re gonna rest up at mine, ‘least ‘til I’m satisfied.” 

Your shoulders sag, but you turn, Joel’s footsteps lingering behind as he shut your door.

“Is that alright?” Joel asks suddenly, approaching at your side.

“Do I have a choice?” you ask curiously, though your voice is laced with a tinge of frustration and pain.

“Yeah,” Joel tells you, his eyes earnest, “but I’d be checkin’ on you constantly if you stayed home, I might even send Ellie to keep you company, I’m sure she’d love to—”

“You like getting your way,” you shake your head, a quiet laugh tumbling from your lips.

“Guess you could say that,” Joel replies with a hint of smirk, turning over your shoulder to confirm your suspicion, “you’re one of my best workers, y’know?”

“I’m also the only person that wants to listen to you ramble about the different types of wood we’re using for different projects,” you retort, “and the only person who’ll stay up all night working with you, even though you get real grumpy right after eight o’clock,”

Joel opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt him.

“I’d blame it on the old age but I think you’re just like that,” Joel rolls his eyes as he silently guides you onto the sidewalk that led to his house—it was only a block away from yours, “bet you’d hate for people to know you’re also just a big ol’ softie when you get drunk,”

The morning sun filtered through the trees lining the street, making you squint as you looked up at him, gaging his reaction to your words.

Joel side-steps, blocking the glare of the sun with his broad shoulders as he steers you up his driveway, grumbling under his breath as you head for the steps of his front door.

“Ain’t soft,” you chew at your lip to hide your smile, “you get touchy when you’re drunk, if we’re goin’ there,”

You shrug, nonchalant, “You’ve never had any problem with it,”

He didn’t—Joel found out quickly that you were a hugger instead of a casual handshake type of person, always needing to reach out to touch whoever you were talking to, almost like it was a grounding technique—but when you were drunk, boundaries were a foreign concept.

“And your hair is so soft,” you comment with a knowing smile, glancing at him as you pushed past and into his house as he opened the door for you, “very touchable,”

You take a moment to soak in the space, not having seen it in a few months as you’ve hermitted yourself away and you hear Joel close the door behind you, footsteps growing closer as a bubble of laughter slips out, pointing at the furniture in his living room.

“You listened?”

Joel’s brow furrows in confusion before he understands what you’re referring to.

“Oh, well,” Joel waves casually toward the space, “it does…flow better, doesn't it?”

“You,” you reach forward and poke at the center of his chest, “listened,”

Joel chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he attempts to maintain his composure. "Sit your ass down," he warns, an empty threat that makes you smile as he gently swats your hand away, "relax, ‘for I make you,"

There’s a warmth to his tone that you’ve heard many times before, but it makes your chest flutter, nodding in response as you take a seat on the worn-in couch, sinking into the cushion as you slip off your shoes and tuck your feet at your side.

You can’t help but smile wider at the effort he put into making the place feel more welcoming, more like home. Not just a place to survive, but to live.

The living room, adorned with a few framed pictures of Ellie and some mementos from his past life, suddenly feels a bit more intimate. You spot the framed picture on the coffee table that showcased a younger Joel and his daughter, Sarah. 

That Joel was long gone, but he did appear in flashes. Quick, fleeting.

“Tea alright?” Joel's voice carries from the kitchen, hearing the creak of cabinets doors.

“No coffee?” you ask curiously—Joel knew you hated it, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Got plenty,” Joel answers, “but given what I had to trade to get it, I’m not sharin’,”

You chuckle quietly and call out, “Tea is fine,”

The sound of water boiling soon followed, and you could hear the soft clatter of ceramic mugs as Joel moved about, clearing his throat on occasion as you watched his shadow move around the kitchen.

You settled deeper into the couch, your fingers tracing along its worn fabric and pulling the blanket draped over the back of the couch into your lap.

When he returned, he balanced two steaming mugs in his hands, the fragrant scent of mint invading your senses, alongside the strong smell of freshly brewed coffee. 

“Here ya go,” he said, nodding toward your mug, dropping down onto the couch beside you.

“Thanks,” you replied softly, taking a sip and letting the warmth seep into your bones, though your fingers still ached, removing one hand from the mug to curl your fingers in, rubbing your thumb against the side of your forefinger where the bandaged was haphazardly wrapped.

“You should let ‘em breathe,” Joel suggests, “I’ll clean ‘em ‘f you want,”

“I know you’re gonna do it anyways,” you respond with tired grin, “go ahead, play doctor,”

“Shut up,” he responds with subtle amusement before grunting as he stands and disappearing again, but for a shorter amount of time, coming back with a small, plastic box that was an obnoxious red.

You’ve never seen him so gentle, so careful. He takes a long sip from his mug before he sets it aside as extends his hand, palm up, waiting for you to offer your hand in return.

You let out a soft sigh as you place your hand into his. He inspects your fingers with a focused intensity, brows furrowing deeper as he examines the damage, unwrapping the thin white cloth to peek at the myriad of cuts, his eyes squinting as he turned your hand over to check the other side.

“You can’t keep pushin’ yourself like this,” he says, almost to himself, but loud enough for you to hear.

“It’s just… I want to help,” you reply, voice quiet but firm, “Everyone’s been through so much. The town needs it. I don’t see anything wrong with it, taking care of others,”

“Sometimes help means takin’ care of yourself too,” Joel counters gently, his eyes darting between each wound, dabbing it lightly with alcohol. 

His touch is careful yet firm, a contrast that shouldn’t entice you, but it does.

“Okay, dad,” you tease lightly, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck,

Joel gives you a look, very fatherly, but it quickly fades.

It was more of a watch yourself, if anything.

A subtle warning.

“I’m gonna clean this up, give you some meds for your back and hope it’ll get you some rest—I’ll let you sleep up in my room,” Joel finishes up with your hand, balancing the first-aid kit on his knee before he closes it up, “figure a bed’ll be easier on your back than this couch,”

“I can manage,” you interject and he shoots you a look.

Right—telling, not asking.

“I can probably scrounge some shit up for dinner tonight,” Joel seems to be doing the mental gymnastics in his head, knowing his fridge was mostly bare,

“Don’t act like you aren’t going to go back to work once I fall asleep,” you counter, tilting your head to catch his gaze, his eyes suddenly tracking toward you, only slightly guilty.

Joel's brow furrowed as he met your eyes, a familiar flicker of frustration igniting within him. You both knew it was a familiar exchange—you'd push against the weakness for you and he'd push back just as hard to mask it.

You were one of Joel’s few soft spots, as much as he tried to deny it.

The silence that hangs between you is thick—it often was, but it never had moments like this to settle. Both of you were too busy, too distracted, unwilling to let anything flourish.

“I’m just gonna go check on Tommy real quick,” Joel explains, “I know if I’m not here ‘round the clock you’ll end up sneakin’ out,”

He wasn’t wrong.

He points at your tea, encouraging you to drink before he disappears again, stowing away the first-aid as he comes back with his hand curled up, holding it over yours until you open your palm, dropping two small pills into your hand.

“Just enough to get you a little relief,” Joel tells you, watching as you rolled the pills around in your palm with your thumb, “and some sleep,”

You swallow them down without any arguing, knowing that there wasn’t any point for it.

“C’mon,” Joel nods, waiting for you to stand and follow.

The walk to his room feels like an eternity, the floorboards creaking under the weight of your paired steps before you finally reach his bedroom door, half-cracked open as he hits it with his foot and turns on the light.

Joel’s bed is unmade, a pile of blankets haphazardly thrown across the sheets, but it only adds to the charm of his space. And it smells like him, something woodsy but warm.

“Just…lay down for a bit,” he instructs, his voice dropping an octave while his hands settle on his hips as you move around him, “I’ll be back before you wake up,”

With a quiet nod, you walk over and climb into his bed, sinking into the soft mattress.

This shouldn’t feel personal, but it does.

Joel watches with a pinched, unreadable expression as you tuck yourself under his sheets. His, the ones he sleeps under every night, his pillow tousled like he was fighting for a comfortable position to sleep in.

You smile, adjusting it under your head. 

Your breath catches when you turn and realize he’s still watching, though his head is bowed and he’s trying desperately to make it seem like he isn’t watching, but he can’t help it—his gaze is intense.

“Joel,” you say softly, startling him in a way that surprises you, his head tipping up almost immediately to look at you, attentive, “I’m really sorry.”

“Stop apologizin’,” Joel reprimands with a gentle tone.

The wave of emotion is unexpected, but it burns your throat. You look down, around, anywhere but him as you blink away tears and force yourself to breathe, quickly wiping away a tear with the back of your hand. 

Joel watched you for a moment longer, his brow furrowing again as if he were to piece together a puzzle in his mind. 

But this time, there was a softness in his gaze—an unguarded look that made your heart race. Without speaking, he approaches, fabric shifting against itself and suddenly he’s in front of you, the bed dipping with his weight as he sits near the edge to face you.

“Hey,” he says, his voice quiet as his hand searches over the blanket for your knee, gently grazing as his hand settles and squeezes, “talk to me,”

You look up hesitantly, his presence warm and grounding, and it’s difficult to wrap your mind around the feeling building between you. Joel was used to seeing you happy, cheerful—even irritated on occasion, but never like this.

“I don’t want to burden you,” you confess, your heart pounding against your ribcage as you meet his eyes. “I am—I know I am, all ‘cause I’m not taking care of myself,”

Joel shakes his head slowly, the look in his eyes unwavering. “You ain’t a burden,” he insists firmly, reaching out to wrap his fingers around your forearm to pull you into an unexpected hug, immediately relaxing into the warmth as you let it wrap you up, strong arms barricading themselves around your body. “I want to help you.”

His hands rub against your back in a way that could lull you into sleep, matching his breathing as the silence settles, suddenly struck with the desire to pull back and look at him, curious if he was feeling the same vulnerability that you were, walls down.

Leaning back to look at him, Joel’s eyes search yours, a depth of emotion mostly unreadable, but for the first time you see a flicker of something more than just concern—a flash of adoration that he rarely displayed.

“I’ll be back by dinner,” Joel tells you, blinking and the moment was suddenly gone, “get some sleep, alright?”

You nod sheepishly and follow his order, his hand drifting up the comforter as he tucked the blanket over your shoulder before he drifts away, the room dimming as sleep begins to pull you under.

—

Again, Joel’s got a gift.

He knows.

When he steps inside the house, something feels…off.

He strips off his shoes and shirt, leaving him in jeans and a worn tank top, burdened by the heat of summer as his clothes stuff to his skin, ready to drown himself in the cool water of his shower—but not before checking on you.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, he knows.

You weren’t in bed, you weren’t even in his room.

But, your own clumsiness gives your new location away.

“Shitshit,” you curse as Joel approaches, shoving the door open as the papers float to the ground, quickly bending to pick them up as Joel clears his throat,

“Can I help you?” Joel asks only slightly accusatively, his face flushed red from the heat and the sight of his arms making it impossible to look at him for longer than a few seconds.

“I napped, I swear,” you quickly assure him, “but, I got restless—and I got…curious of what you’ve been working on,”

It had been a while since Joel had time to set down and work on anything for himself, guilty in the same way that you were, unwilling to let himself enjoy.

His face relaxes as he releases the door to let it swing open slowly, tossing the balled up shirt on the table at his hip as he approaches, pointing at the half-finished horse caught mid-read with a cowboy on it’s back, “Haven’t touched this place in a couple of months,”

You turn as he approaches, feeling the heat of his body at your back as you run your finger along the ridges of the carved wood, admiring his handiwork, “Still, this is amazing,” like most of the figurines that littered the room were, Joel’s talents were kept close to his chest, only caught in moments like this, and it never failed to amaze you.

Joel shifts slightly, his hand pressing into the table near your hip, "Just somethin’ to keep my hands busy when I can’t sleep," he admits, his voice gentle as he watches your expression shift from curiosity to admiration, turning your head to look at him with a soft smile.

“I think we’re a lot more alike than you wanna admit,” you challenge him.

Joel chuckles lightly, “I don’t know what you’re on about,”

“Denial doesn’t suit you, Joel,” you tease, turning your a smidge further and finding that the pain still lingered. Joel notices. 

His head tilts almost accusatory before his hands come to rest over your shoulders, “You mind?” he asks, desperate to change topics.

You shake your head lazily, feeling his thumbs dig into the muscles near your neck, mouth immediately falling open as the tension begins to release under his precise touch. 

“Oh, god,” you breathe out, leaning into his hands as they work deeper into your muscles, a blissful ache spreading from where he pressed. Without speaking, his hands had drifted lower, near your ribs as his hands worked through the balled up tension until you had no choice but to lean forward, hands catching the table in front of you before your hips did.

A soft laugh escapes you despite the discomfort; Joel had a way of making even teasing feel tender. Suddenly feeling a tinge of fear build in your chest, curious that if you turned to look at him it would ruin whatever….this was. You raise your head with half-lidded eyes, enough that you think you can catch his reflection in the mirror without him knowing.

But, he’s looking right at you.

Under the inhibitions of alcohol, you’d tease him.

Instead, you turn, uncertain of how he would react.

Your hands grasp the table behind your back as his drop to his side, balled up into fists as you take in the sight of him this close, the front of his shirt damp at the center of his chest with sweat, his belt hanging unbuckled at his hips and his eyes hungry.

Sure, relaxing was what you needed, but Joel had a strange desire to remind you just how precious your body was—both caring for it, but how much he found himself admiring it. Every curve or scar, he watches as your lips part in a breath, mimicking the movement subconsciously.

“Joel…” you begin, but the words catch in your throat.

“Just let me,” he whispers, a deep richness to his tone and he reaches out again, this time his fingers brushing against your cheek. His touch is gentle yet firm—a promise of safety and assurity layered with something more. 

You lean into his hand instinctively, eyes drifting closed at his touch.

“Can I…” the words linger, but he doesn’t even have to ask.

You nod slowly, met with his lips a century of a moment later.

The kiss is soft at first, cautious and curious, his other hand twisting around your forearm to pull you in, your own fingers dragging up his biceps until they reach his neck, a touch so featherlight Joel fears he’s imagining it, but then you’re deepening the kiss.

Your tongue drags along his bottom lip, hearing him groan as he opens his mouth and lets you in, pressing himself against you as the table shakes with the unexpected weight and you snort softly, pulling away from his lips as he begins to chase them.

You can feel his heartbeat thrumming through the thin fabric of his shirt, a rhythm that matches your own racing pulse. Your hand fists into his tank and the look on his face is picturesque, a mix between wrecked and wanton.

“You smell like outside,” you tell him lightly

Joel chuckles softly, a low rumble that vibrates through the air between you two, “Coulda just said I stink,” Joel retorts.

“Maybe a little,” you quip back playfully, your fingers still tangled in the fabric of his shirt, feeling the solid muscles shift beneath your touch as he leans closer. 

“To be fair, I was gonna shower,” Joel defends, “then I caught you snoopin’,”

“Sorry,” you offer sweetly, though Joel isn’t sure you mean it.

With his hand still cradling your face and his fingers wrapped around your arm, he doesn’t move, watching as your gaze centered on his chest where your thumb was rubbing a circle over the fabric, thinking. 

Waiting.

“Are you gonna ask me to join you?” you ask tantalizingly, eyes flicking up to meet his gaze.

“Didn’t think it was appropriate,” Joel defends, “bein’ your boss and all,”

“Bullshit,” you retort, his face splitting into an unexpected smile at your bluntness.

You stare at him expectantly, fighting the smugness that threatened to spread across your features before Joel leans forward again, quickly kissing it away.

“You’re so damn devious,” he mumbles against your lips.

–

Contrary to what you were expecting, Joel leaves you showering alone for longer than you like, hearing him insist that you needed a change of clothes before the front door was slamming shut and you were already running your hand through the heat of the water.

You were just finishing up washing your hair when the bathroom door clicks shut, some faint shuffling on the other side of the curtain as your impatience grows, pulling the fabric far enough back that you can twist your fingers around his arm and pull him under the running water, clothes and all.

Joel stumbles slightly as you tug him into the warmth, water splashing over both of you, and an incredulous laugh escapes his lips as he looks down at his soaked clothes.

It’s infectious, filling the small space with a sense of mischief as he pulls away just enough to look at you, the droplets cascading down his jaw and neck, “Really?” he asks, “You couldn’t wait?”

You shrug, aware of his drifting gaze as they follow down to your breasts, yearning deeply for his mouth as his lips part before his hands are wrapping around his top and pulling it over his head, tossing it to the floor with soft splat, alongside the rest of his soaked clothing.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” he warns, a dangerous glint in his eyes as the water drips down his broad shoulders, revealing the strength beneath his tanned skin.

You smirk, feeling bold as you inch closer to him, “Oh? How, exactly?”

Without warning, Joel lunges forward. 

His body is solid, pressing into yours as you gasp at the suddenness of it all. 

“Like this,” he murmurs against your lips. This is deeper, more fervent, sealed with desperation and longing. You weren’t sure how long the two of you had been tiptoeing around your feelings for one another, but they seemed impossible to ignore now.

His mouth moves over yours like this was normal, like he knew everything that made you tick. You respond instinctively, lips parting further as your tongues press together, exploring the taste of him mixed with warm, cascading water that poured over you both as you tugged him closer, your hands settled near the sides of his chest, squeezing against his ribs as he guides you against the adjacent shower wall.

His hand finds your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh with a possessive urgency that has you gasping, allowing himself to take a moment to really admire you, watching as the water dripped from his damp hair to his nose, his free hand tracing every inch of your body with lust-filled eyes, a thumb dragging along the underside of your breast until he finds the courage to drag it up and around your nipple, a small gasp slipping from your lips.

“Sensitive?” Joel asks curiously, a subtle smirk betraying his genuine question.

You let out a high pitched noise of acknowledgement as his hand rises to pinch at the bud before you slap at his chest, “What are we doing?” you ask breathlessly, a shake of uncertainty in your tone as Joel’s movements pause, though the hand on your thigh gives a reassuring squeeze.

“You know, I’ve got plenty of methods to help ya relax,” he explains, “could show you one?”

“Joel,” you warn, knowing there wouldn’t ever be a moment after this that you didn’t look at him and see him exactly as he was now, eyes darker than their normal brown and his face flushed with an increasing desire.

Joel leans forward, though tentative, and kisses you slow, waiting for you to react with intrigue, feeling like your brain was having trouble keeping up with his actions, “Let me take care of you,” he urges, “s’the least I can do,”

He pulls back, searching your face with a tinge of nervousness that quickly fades as you nod, the back of his hand pressing against the inside of your thigh to part your legs, hiking up one around his hip before he guides your hands up and around his neck, your fingers playing into the damp ends of his hair as the hand that wasn’t descending between your bodies came around the back of your head, cupping it gently.

With the first touch of his fingers as they split through your folds, you understand his intention with caressing you, your head thudding back against the tile wall gently.

You sigh shakily in satisfaction as you nod again, though there was no pending question.

Joel chuckles, watching as your eyes fall shut in bliss as he dips his head and drags his lips across your shoulder, collarbone, down your chest until he can swirl his tongue around your nipple, sucking on the sensitive skin as his middle finger drags over your clit and circles, a surprised gasp from you at how devastating his touch was.

The end goal was relaxation and you were anything but—though, you couldn’t complain.

Your workload rarely allowed for anything like this, even a moment for you to indulge on your own, mind frazzled with worry.

Joel hadn’t take his eyes off of you, much like how he behaved at work, but this was more intense, more purposeful, his brow creasing at every noise you made, his fingers moving from your clit to slip inside of you, filling you with a fullness that only Joel could offer, his thick fingers stretching your cunt open.

The sensation of him sliding deeper inside you made your breath hitch, the heat pooling low in your belly as your fingers squeezed at the back of his neck. You could feel every pulse of his fingers as they curled inside of you, drawing whimpers from your lips as he worked you open.

“How am I doin’?” He asks quietly, though his tone is cocky, speaking against your skin with his breath hot and heavy, “You thinkin’ about work?”

“Not even a little,” you admit, your response stangled off by a gentle cry as his fingers quickly switch gears, slick from your arousal as his body blocked the stream of water and worked over your clit, your hips rocking up into his hands.

“Good,” Joel notes, his mouth trailing up to your neck and to your cheek, pressed together as you pull him in close, your quiet but quickened breath against his chest that gave him the tell-tale sign that you were close.

“Joel,” he knows—of course he does.

“I know,” he soothes, his touch insistent as he worked over your clit in fast, tight circles until your legs shook, teeth biting gently into his shoulder where you face had found solace against, he grunts at the sensation, his voice soothing, “Oh, I know, darlin’,”

He guides you through every second of your orgasm, pulling back to examine the pinch in your features with a tinge of smug satisfaction as you whisper his name once more.

Joel’s become so familiar with your tone that even a simple slip of his name told him everything he needed to know.

Thank you, is what he hears.

And when you tuck into his bed, rolling your eyes affectionately as he leaves a respectable gap of space between you both, your muscles ache.

But, with good reason.

You’ve never felt more relaxed.

[silasoctakiseron]

@thesaintofpatience made a post about this the other day that I didn't want to straight-up hijack, but necrocav roleswap AU for the Eighth is one of my favorite topics to sit down with a cup full of nails and a bowl full of barbed wire to think about, so I did also want to post about it because it MAKES ME CRAZY. Very long post ahead, as ever.

I'm personally strongly opposed to ageswapping here because I think so much of Silas's attitude and actions toward Colum are shaped by the fact that he's never known a day of his life without him. This leaves us with a Master Templar in his mid-thirties with a sixteen-year-old cavalier half his size constantly dogging his footsteps. How do we get here?

OP (are we on a first-name basis? Hi) mentioned the possibility of Colum having a previous cavalier who was killed in an accident and necessitated a rush-job replacement in the form of Silas, who in many ways makes a poor substitute. I like this, but the thought that initially came to me was rather that Colum had previously never had a cavalier with whom he was sufficiently genetically compatible to be a truly powerful siphoner.

We know that compatibility has something to do with blood type per ch. 28:

“Three brothers with different blood types, because we couldn’t tell what you’d be and which of us you’d need.”

This makes sense given how tied-up bloodletting and spirit work are in TLT, particularly re: speech to the dead and stele travel (shoutout Hannah @katakaluptastrophy for more on this ⁠— I had planned to link a specific post but honestly just search the word "blood" on her blog). However, other than that it's all incredibly vague. I'm thinking about the Master Templar raised with two brothers close to him in age, one of whom should have made a suitable cavalier given their close relation, and it just ⁠— didn't work.

So now you have a Master Templar who spends 16 to 21 years being able to siphon and otherwise perform Eighth necromancy, but it's not good enough. There is no replacement for Colum, though growing one rapidly shot even higher on the House's list of priorities when it became clear neither planned contingency would work. It's a long decade or two of the Eighth subtly turning inward (as is implied in the book by their ceasing participation on the cavalier duelling circuit) to shield the Order from the fact that its master is insufficiently armed while it tries to devise a solution. This leads to experimentation with stepping back up Colum's family tree in the name of cultivating a viable offshoot as soon as possible.

You could go a lot of different ways here ⁠— personally I'm doing some handwaving for the purpose of this post. Maybe early assessment of Silas seemed promising even though he was sickly and small ⁠— maybe he was the only one or one of a few to survive to birth ⁠— &c. as you will. Either way, the first time Colum tries to siphon him ⁠— and it does not feel good to siphon from a child, particularly an undersized child barely ten years old, of whom Colum has grown quite fond ⁠— Colum lights up like a fucking firecracker. Baby, that's the Master fucking Templar.

The Order remains a little hush-hush on this, imo, because it does seem a bit in poor taste, but what matters is that the House is being headed once again by a necromancer at the height of his power rather than one being forced to make do with what's available.

What does all of this mean for Silas?

Colum makes very clear in GTN that his entire life is his cavaliership. There is no separable distinction between Colum Asht, the person, and Colum the Eighth, cavalier primary.

“Oath? Ten years of training, before you were even born. ... Ten years of antigens, antibodies, and waiting—for you. I am the oath.”

That said, Colum remembers what it was to wait. Colum's childhood was shaped by the absence of Silas; Silas's childhood was shaped by the constant presence of Colum.

So what of an Eighth cavalier who, in addition to training his entire life to serve the Master Templar, grew up as a small child who hero-worshipped him? We know from GTN that Silas thinks Colum is both inherently morally good (ch. 28) and physically/spiritually invincible (the latter which of course ultimately causes both their deaths — chs. 18, 34). In canon, these things point not only to the qualities of Colum as a person that Silas respects and admires, but additionally to Colum's effectiveness as a tool for Silas's use. We also know that as a child, Silas "[took] everything [Colum] said as gospel" per ch. 28. In a world where he's Master Templar rather than the cavalier primary, this sentiment is exacerbated dramatically by the fact that everything Colum says is gospel.

In a world where Silas was Colum's cavalier, taught his entire life that serving Colum was the destiny granted him by the Emperor and that he should be grateful for the honor, one can see how this would contribute to Silas's inexorable religious fervor. Silas's effectiveness as a tool for Colum lies in a very different sense of duty, honor, and service: he is not responsible for Colum's care, which is a major driving force in canon for Colum's feelings about Silas, but rather his physical defense and necromantic power. He's not responsible for watching Colum grow up, raising him with a specific sense of morality, or otherwise shaping him in any way; he's a conduit and a weapon, and he's proud to be those things when in many ways Colum would much rather he just be a teenage boy.

So we already have a seething religious zealot at the best of times, who rather than being aggressively sheltered and shut up in contemplation as the Master Templar has been trained to give up his body wholly to his necromancer and wage holy war from an extremely young age. We know that the Eighth raise necrocav pairs with particularly early awareness of their roles, to the degree that Judith, who (for perspective) joined the military at age 6 (ch.32), notes that Silas would have understood his position from young childhood.

Then we have a Master Templar who, rather than being hailed as a child prodigy capable of immensely powerful necromancy, scraped along for nearly two decades doing what he could do, knowing it was inadequate, thoroughly washed in the blood of the Emperor but wondering how and why the Emperor would put him through a trial so directly harmful to the Order and its interests. Colum's faith in the Emperor and adherence to Eighth religious beliefs is effectively unshakable in canon even when it actively harms and oppresses him. But this isn't about Colum as the Master Templar, who would likely still gladly lay down and take his lashes in the name of serving the Emperor. This is about the ways in which Colum has failed the Order for reasons beyond his control, knowing that he's been kept in this role so long only because it's proven nearly impossible to replace him in a timely fashion.

You have a man whose faith was already shot through with doubt he can't acknowledge as the foremost religious leader of the Nine Houses. This man is then put in charge of a small child — likely in a substantially less involved fashion than canon, given that his main responsibilities are to the system rather than serving and caring for a single religious official — whose job is to fight and die for him, a grown man. This child adores him and believes he can do no wrong, and grows into a physically weary teenager in obvious chronic pain who nevertheless fiercely insists that it is the honor of his life and his duty to the Emperor for the Master Templar to exercise the right to wear away at his health and well-being in the name of necromantic power and religious leadership.

These people arrive at Canaan House not only performing a deeply unpopular and offputting form of necromancy to begin with, but additionally effectively executing an act of ritualized religious child abuse every time they do so, which no one was really aware was going on until now. The strange divisions of power between them in canon are obviously different, but still present: a man with no replacement lined up for the position of the highest official bar the Emperor and his Saints of the Nine Houses' theocracy, whose ability to maintain that position and avoid throwing the Houses into a massive power vacuum depends on his ability to scrape away at the soul of a teenage boy he cares deeply for who's absolutely frothing at the mouth about the necessity of his doing so.

What happens next? How does this impact the Eighth's attitude toward Lyctorhood — when the cavalier primary isn't shutting his eyes and silently accepting his death, but demanding that Colum use him as he will to ascend to the station of Saint? To finally be able to wield the full extent of his power independent of an external party after years of failing to do so with inadequate substitutes? When does Colum draw the line between his responsibility to the system, the Order, and the Emperor, and his care for the child to whom the Emperor has bound him in contract, who he loves and has actively been harming for over five years?

[wip]

Please make it possible to hide users' posts without blocking them. Like, in cases where a person hasn't done anything wrong to be blocked, but you just don't like their posts.

Answer: Hello, @deithwen!

As it turns out, we’ve received this feature request a lot over the years. Usually, it comes in as wanting the ability to “mute” other blogs on Tumblr. While we would love to build it, we’ve balked at it a bit because of its technical and product complexity. Let us explain what that means:

In terms of technical complexity, our current blocking feature is closest to how “muting” would work. Our current blocking feature may seem simple, but it’s very complex because of how big Tumblr is. Every time we fetch a list of blogs for you or anyone on Tumblr, we have to also fetch the list of who you’re blocking, and who’s blocking you, and filter out anyone with that block relationship. This mapping of who’s-blocking-who is stored in a directional way right now, so the “cost” of loading that list gets higher the more people you’re blocking and the more people who are blocking you. If you’re blocking 1,000 blogs, we have to check that list a lot. If you’re being blocked by 1,000 blogs, that’s another big list to check against.

In technical terms, this is a “many-to-many” relationship, which is almost always incredibly difficult to manage while not degrading the experience of using a platform like Tumblr. The more people who are blocking, the harder it is to store those lists in a way that’s easy to check, but we’re working on making it smoother. The vast majority of people don’t block many others, if at all, so it’s never been a huge problem. But the outliers who block thousands of others (or are blocked by thousands of others) can degrade performance for everyone over enough time.

Adding muting would throw on top of that yet another list of blogs to check, increasing the complexity of something that’s already pretty complex. It helps that muting would be one-directional and not bi-directional (as in, it doesn’t matter who’s muting you), but, as that list of muted blogs grows, your experience may degrade further. So we’d need to solve for that, which is definitely doable. It would just take time—and lots of it.

And, as a product, Tumblr is already pretty confusing to people trying to figure out what “blocking” means already, as well as our other filtering options. Up until fairly recently, blocking was almost entirely one-directional, the opposite way you’d expect: blocking made it so the blocked person couldn’t see you, not that you couldn’t see them. We’ve been updating blocking to work both ways instead, which is more common on social media these days. Similarly, the options to filter tags versus content cause a lot of confusion because they don’t work the same way as each other.

So if we wanted to add another filtering option to that mix, “muting” blogs, we’d need to be conscious of how all of those options work together—and are confusing in context with each other. We should really clean up that experience to be more streamlined and simple, not more complex. And I didn’t even mention the oddity of how different settings apply to your primary blog versus your sideblogs if you have more than one blog!

Taken together, it is a great idea for us to clean all of this up, improve our existing options here, and add “muting” for even more control and granularity. Sadly, however, it just isn’t high enough on our list of priorities to tackle anytime soon. We don’t want to simply tack on muting for the sake of doing it—we want to do a better job than that. I hope that makes sense!

Thanks for your question. It was an important one to address. If anything should change here, you will get news through the usual channels: here at WIP, or at @changes. 

[writers-potion]

Do you know how to come up with names for a fantasy race?

I've been trying to mix words but it comes out ugly sounding and looking. I've also tried to follow what we do in the real world, and use Greek words as suffixes, but whatever I combine it still comes out ugly... Help?

I've been trying to mix English+Greek, or just greek or just english.

Naming System For Your Fantasy Creatures/Races

Hey there, thanks for the ask! If English + Greek isn't working, try these combinations instead:

Greek + Latin

English + Latin (there will be a lot of overlaps)

French + English/Latin/Greek

Sanskrit + Greek + Latin

Latin has some pretty useful suffixes and prefixes, and it is the primary language used for flora/fauna scientific names (as well as in the periodic table, in fact!).

For inspiration, try searching up scientific names for random animals and flowers, which will help you discover some useful suffixes.

pig = Sus scrofa domesticus rose = Rosa rubiginosa > These already sound cooler than the average English name!

Examples:

Creature = Fire spitting elf with green skin Greek for fire = Fotia Latin suffix for elf = -pha Sanskrit for green = haritah -> Fictional Name = Haritah Fotipha (or just "Fotipha") or Haripha or Fortiah?

Creature = Water dragon Sanskrit for water = Jalam French for fly = lavion -> Fictional Name = Jalavion or Laviam?

When combining word, join them at the vowel for better flow.

Hope this helps! :)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

💎For early access to my content and priority questions,  become a Writing Wizard 

[loflr]

What a Loving, Obedient Female-Led Relationship Means to me

Before jumping headlong into a FLR I wanted to do as much research as possible to make sure that I knew what I was getting into. In one of my first posts I wrote something like, "It was not all that easy to tease the facts from a lot of the nonsense online, and that really is why I have started this blog; to get an accurate picture of what FLR really is, what it might be, and what it definitely isn’t". Well, I've done quite a bit of digging, and tried to post my results as I went along. Now I think that I'm in a position where I can summarise and say what FLR means to Diane and myself.

First, we are now living a loving, obedient FLR, and the most important feature of that, without question, is love. That is what feeds our dynamic, why I get so much pleasure from serving her and why she has agreed to lead us on this journey. I do not believe that FLR can work without being grounded in love, and I feel certain that our love is blossoming now that we have pushed my male ego out of the equation.

Next, we have established three rules which frame our relationship:

Diane’s wishes take absolute priority over mine, at all times and without exception;

My primary role in the relationship is to ensure Diane’s happiness;

Diane will take immediate corrective action whenever my behaviour falls below her expectations.

It is because I love Diane that I have agreed to the first two of these rules, and I have empowered her by agreeing to obey her commands without hesitation. I get great pleasure from doing this, and also from serving her diligently to make her life easier and happier. Because she loves me, she has agreed to train me so that I learn what her expectations are without needing to be continually told.

The third of these rules is underpinned by my obedience; I have agreed to obey the first two rules. If necessary, Diane has been further empowered to punish me, in non-physical ways, if ever she feels that my behaviour falls below her expectations.

From a practical point of view, rules 1 & 2 mean that I have a list of regular chores which I must complete without being told. She is also able to give me any additional tasks, whenever she likes, that I must complete without complaint. I must also not answer her back or question her authority in any way. I must never interrupt her when she is talking, and if she is talking to a shop assistant or tradesperson then I must not take over control of the conversation. In restaurants I will let her interact with the waitress or waiter.

I have learned so much in the few short weeks that we have living this dynamic. The list of my domestic chores has grown and grown as I try to relieve Diane from as much of the burden of domesticity as I possibly can. She has taught me how to see the house through her eyes, so that I can see what needs to be done without being told, and, on top of that, she is now confident enough in her new-found empowerment to give me commands and to know that I will obey them. I believe that we are both benefitting from this; not only is there a tranche of household chores that she does not even need to think about, but she is comfortable in giving me tasks to do as and when she thinks of them. For my part, I get huge satisfaction when I do these jobs from knowing that I am serving her. To me, at least, this reinforces her seniority in the dynamic and my lower status.

It has been fascinating to see how Diane has become more and more assertive over the weeks, such that I do not believe that she would hesitate to give me a command if she wanted me to do something. Compared with where we were just nine weeks ago, this is amazing progress.

I have tried to be as obedient as I possibly can, but I do continue to make mistakes, despite my best efforts. I hope that these are small and relatively inconsequential, perhaps worthy of reprimand but not much more. Therefore, Diane has not had much call to flex her new "disciplinary muscles", so I do not know if she would be comfortable really scolding me, or maybe sending me to the corner. It will be interesting to see how she handles that if the situation ever arises.

I can't speak for Diane, but I am loving every day of this new life-style, and I hope very much that we are able to stick to this. It is very little sacrifice for me, I just have to swallow my male pig-headedness and learn to do what I'm told. Things are harder for Diane, as she has to learn an assertiveness that may not be natural to her.

Having said what FLR is, to us at least, can I say what it isn't? I can definitely rule out a great deal of what I have read on the Internet. I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with any of these, they're just not part of our dynamic:

I am not Diane's slave and she is not my mistress;

She is amazing and I love her very much, but she is not a goddess;

Our relationship is not about spanking, caning, or other physical punishments;

She does not humiliate me in any way;

I am neither a sissy nor a cuckold;

I do not worship her feet or shoes;

I do not own any panties;

I am not pegged (although this could be beneficial for my haemorrhoids ;-) );

I do not do my chores naked while she drinks wine (although I have been known to drink wine naked, and I often clean the bathroom while semi-naked);

Our relationship is private and we do not involve others (so I am not spanked by her mother and sister);

I do not wear a cage;

She does not control my orgasms (at my time of life there is precious little to control!);

She does not rest her feet on me while waving a riding crop, or stamp on my face with high heels;

Neither of us wears stockings or latex.

As far as we are concerned, none of that little lot is real-life for us, although we accept that it may well be for plenty of other people. That's the great thing about people: we're all different and nobody is right or wrong.

Brian and Diane

[thebreakfastgenie]

It’s dangerous because you should be voting for people who have polices that you like. Under Biden this country has gone to shit. Kamala was in charge of the boarder and it was horrendously run. She is an ag who locked up the most black people for minor offenses in ca history. you supported blm now you’re gonna vote for someone that locked up a ton of them for minor offenses. she’s not good at her job and if she wasn’t a democrat black women id guarantee you would not vote for her you’d trash her. Look up who you vote for on neutral websites before casting your vote. And most don’t like that they bypassed a primary and the rich and powerful got to hand pick your candidate for you. So much for defending democracy am I right?

I’m not happy about bypassing a primary either, but what’s done is done. There is no path forward now that gives the primary voters a say. I voted for Kamala Harris for Vice-President in 2020. I voted for President Biden in the 2024 primary and he endorsed Vice-President Harris. Democratic voters are rallying behind her by choice because we don’t want to waste time fighting each other or open ourselves up to Republican attack. We want to beat Trump. You're underestimating how callously partisan I am this year. I want to beat Trump. Everything else comes after.

But let's talk about you. This message isn't just badly type, it seems reads like a response to a post, but none of my popular political posts are that post. I haven't really talked about Kamala Harris being a Black woman, because although it is significant because the base of the Democratic Party is Black women they've already begun incredible organizing for Harris, the most relevant point to me and the point I have chosen to focus on is that Harris is the candidate endorsed by the president, with access to the president's campaign funds, and has quickly secured united support, averting chaos. I was against Biden leaving the reason because I was terrified of chaos. I do support BLM and I'm sure I reblogged posts about it at the peak of that movement's mainstream attention, but most of the content on my blog is not BLM posts. A lot of my posts about racism and antiracism take a more academic stance. This ask feels like a copypasta, something you just sent to any Democrats you saw supporting VP Harris. I wonder why you'd want to undermine support for VP Harris. Could it be that chaos I'm so afraid of? Could it be because you want Trump to win? I mean, you didn't say anything about Trump in this ask. Not even a cursory "of course Trump is bad but." You do go in on "defending democracy," which is a big priority for a lot of Democratic voters. It's almost like you're trying to dissuade people who care about that from supporting/voting for VP Harris. I wonder why?

But this is what really sticks out to me:

Look up who you vote for on neutral websites before you cast your vote.

"Neutral websites?" What exactly are these neutral websites, pray tell? You certainly didn't provide any examples. There's just something about this phrasing that's incredibly strange. This is not, in my experience, the way leftists with left criticisms of Democratic candidates approach this issue.

All this is giving me the gut feeling that this anon is a troll designed to suppress support for VP Harris and the Democratic Party. Maybe a human troll, maybe a bot, but the goal is the same. If I get more asks like this I might just delete them so as not to platform them, but I wanted to post this one so everyone could see what I'm talking about.

[possessionisamyth]

Since the most popular posts are being extremely useless and defeatist when it comes to the presidential election, I'm reminding you of the democratic primary. If you absolutely do not want to vote for Biden, here are your other options, and you have to VOTE and SHOW UP for your state primary to push them forward.

Marianne Williamson is running for the Dem Primary. Here is her site leading to her stances on current issues.

https://marianne2024.com/issues/

Dean Phillips is also running for the Dem Primary. Below is his website. Click on the Priorities tab on the right to see his stances on the issues.

https://phillips.house.gov/

Robert F Kennedy Jr. is running as an Independent. Click on the Policies tab on the upper left to see his stance on the issues.

https://www.kennedy24.com/

Cornel West is running as an Independent. Click on the Platform tab on the upper right to get his stance on the issues.

https://www.cornelwest2024.com/

Here is the schedule for the primary by state for 2024 so you know when to hit the ballot box.

https://www.uspresidentialelectionnews.com/2024-primary-schedule/

The US Government has always been a shit show. Due to Biden winning 1 election already, everyone who has already secured their democratic seat will be pushing for him to win a second term. That's what being incumbent means. The primaries will look like how they did when Bernie was running against him. The news will not be on any of these people's sides, and they will be showing as little of them as possible to ensure a Biden win.

If you are a USA citizen of voting age and all you've been doing is reblogging/making posts about how no one should vote for Joe, maybe take the next step and READ up on the other options. If you actually don't want Joe or Trump to win this next election, you need to pick a candidate from these links to hype up. You have to start being their voices in places where people don't watch the televised news. You can even volunteer your time to do phone calls for them to spread the information.

If your entire blog is only never vote, or never vote for Joe, then yes you are not helping the problem. You are making things worse when we literally have time to try for another option. Be angry. Be pissed, but do some footwork for people you want in office in addition! This is actually how you shift things and send a message.

[flimsy-spoon]

⚢ Blog Guide ⚢

You May Refer To Me As Primary : Ma'am, Pretty Girl, Miss Yes! : Esther, Mommy, Baby, Doll, Princess, Love, Slut, Whore, basically anything else No! : Masculine terms

21 Years Old Female she / her Lesbian Femme 4 Femme Dom lean | Switch more about me

DNI Minors : this is an 18+ blog ONLY Men : I am a lesbian and this is strictly a wlw blog Homophobic, Transphobic, Racist, Pedo, Proshipper/Comshipper, Mspec Lesbians / Bi-Lesbians / Contradictory Labels

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Random Horny Posting #random

Rants or Vents #rant

Asks and Chats #asks , #chats , #anon

Yes :  ⚢ Mommy / Mistress Kink ⚢ Vanilla ⚢ Degrading  ⚢ Praise / Worship ⚢ Dirty Talk ⚢ Sadism / Masochism  ⚢ Orgasm Control / Denial / Overstimulation ⚢ Light Bondage / Restraints  ⚢ Spanking / Marking / Hair Pulling (okay giving and receiving all)

Maybe : ⚢ Light somno ⚢ Knife play ⚢ Choking (giving, NOT receiving) (would try in very specific circumstances with someone I trust)

No :  ⚢ Ageplay / MDLG (mommy as a term is fine) / Petplay (pet as a term is fine) / Raceplay ⚢ Rape / CNC / Incest / Pedo ⚢ Piss / Scat / Vomit / Feed ⚢ Extreme Violence / Guro ⚢ Breeding / Pregnancy  ⚢ Intoxication (especially weed) ⚢ Dykebreaking / Use of masculine terms (daddy, cock, boyfriend, he/him pronouns, etc.)

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Trans women welcome!

Asks are open for everyone, I’d love to meet and talk to you! Be as horny as you want to be, baby.

My DMs are open! Sexting and photos are fine but I'm more likely to respond to mutuals. Women only!

Do not post anything of mine on any other platform, especially without credit. 

I do not have a sub or dom at the moment.

I am single and not looking for a girlfriend or any kind of relationship. I'm not opposed to getting to know someone but it is not a priority of mine.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

My Anons  🌸🍄🌱🐞💟🦆🫧🥝👑🌹🐈🌾👙🍒🌻🪭⚓🪩♨️🎨📍💎🌧🎻���‍♀️💌🪽

BDSM Test results below the cut

I don't think it's completely accurate, but close enough I suppose.

[mbta-unofficial]

Why are there no rail lines which arc around Boston? I noticed this the other day when I wanted to go from Newton Centre to Magoun Square and realized that using the MBTA would take 90+ minutes because I'd have to go through downtown Boston, whereas if there were some kind of arc through the suburbs then it would be much faster?

I’ll get to the point in a second but you picked a very funny example because for the T, you can’t really do better than a 1 seat ride, even if there were a circle line. That particular stop pair already has the highest efficiency you can expect from the network, and the only way to cut travel time is increasing operating speed. (not a bad idea but a technical challenge)

The short answer to “why aren’t there circles?” is “well there are but they are buses and they overlap to do all the highest traffic segments” and the slightly longer answer is “a train would probably be less efficient than the buses for some reasons I could get into but also why is speed the primary metric?”

A throughrunning hub and spoke system like boston (as compared to a terminal hub and spoke like chicago or a grid like new york) gives access to the opposite side of the network in a single seat. This is one of the arguments against circle line proposals: Though shorter trips are served by intermediate service, nobody ever rides the whole circle because they would end up where they started, and on the T this is doubled because a circle is never as efficient as a line, that’s geometry. Why go around the city if through the city is a shorter trip?

However, this doesn’t actually address inter-neighborhood trips which are mostly why people want circles. The solution the T has, intermediate bus routes like the 66, is actually tailored to that critique because it takes the most in demand legs of where a circle would be and connects them. I felt like the 66 was a perfect transit solution when I lived directly on it and I still take it weekly, because it connected the parts of boston I was regularly going to, and if I needed to go farther away I would need to hit downtown usually anyway. Conventional wisdom says that these trips are less common, and therefore less of a priority, compared to downtown trips. I work downtown. Those who, like me, work in an office building are going to need to make 10+ trips a week to that building, while we might make 1-3 inter-neighborhood trips to get somewhere other than where the jobs are. Now, conventional wisdom isn’t everything: Huge numbers of people do work in adjacent neighborhoods to where they live and aren’t going to BMC Central/park street/government center. However, while all the downtown trips are centralized, ~2m people coming in and going out every day, the interneighborhood trips are distributed over a much larger area. Boston is too small to have more than one major city center, which means that network trips like Queens-Brooklyn-manhattan connections don’t need to exist either. Each of these would put pressure on a hypothetical circle line proposal because it would be weighed against alternatives like bus improvements, debt service, The Chelsea Everett Blue Line My Beloved and the other fucking albatross around this blog’s neck, the north south rail link. The T doesn’t have a lot of leeway to Build a Whole Subway that might not actually have that many riders.

I do think that the circle line is always going to let someone down though. There are fewer than fifty cities worldwide where I think that cars won’t always outperform trains or buses on speed and that’s because there are fewer than fifty cities worldwide with more than 10 million people and the thing you need for transit to outcompete cars is so many goddamn people that it’s physically impossible for all of them to have cars. Cars are well optimized for autonomy and unless density is over certain thresholds your transit needs will be better met by being able to go directly to your location. Past 10m, you get crowding where traffic is unmanageable and transit gets an edge not because it’s faster but because driving slows down, and congestion pricing even takes that transit edge away. Connecting two sub-average density neighborhoods in a city guarantees exponentially fewer trips than connecting a low density neighborhood to a high density one, for two reasons. 1: fewer people in a station catchment area means fewer trips. People are not usually thrilled about walking more than a quarter mile to a train, so as many people as possible in that quarter mile radius is important. 2: Less density means less specific attraction. Fewer jobs, less recreation, and fewer individuals mean less people coming to a place by any transit solution. When you connect two suburbs, these density issues combine multiplicatively to decrease trips compared to the line to downtown.

However, despite the critique of circle lines, I do think we should still be fighting for more service on the buses we have, and further restricting traffic. Ideally, I would love a personal vehicles ban inside the kennedy greenway down to about arlington but we’re a long way from that. I just think the buses with more frequent service, especially on the 51, 86, 65, 22, 24, and 117, are a better solution than a new construction of rail.

The other thing that matters to me for transit is that speed isn’t everything. Transit is far more accessible, affordable, healthy, safe, and green, and static infrastructure like stations create firm expectations that structure economic growth. Cars get you somewhere. Trains define a neighborhood, generate town squares, and economize the movement of people and goods.

Long post I know, but often in transit “would this be faster” is a losing game because trains and buses make frequent stops. They’ll never beat a car that is not doing that in a race, not even in Shibuya, São Paulo or the DF. It’s not would this be faster, it’s what do the externalities look like? Does this improve health outcomes? property values? accessibility? Transit always wins those fights.

[devilishdanse]

Valentino has exited the test phase & will now be REQUEST ONLY.

I will eventually add his details to my document and slowly begin working on a few headcanons. He will gradually be integrated into my set of muses, and added to the spinning wheel if he is not there already.

Due to a number of reasons, including but not limited to, my lack of confidence in writing him, he will be REQUEST ONLY. When necessary, I will do my best to use content / trigger warnings, as I always do but especially with Valentino. My blog already has a "potential DDDNE" disclaimer, and this blog is full of muses specifically for the Hellaverse. Discretion advised.

Available For: ★ Asks / Memes / Writing Prompts ★ Crack / Short Interactions upon request. ★ I may or may not reply to some of your posts with his commentary. ★ Starter requests (will rarely, if ever post open starters).

Threads, relationships, and anything else will be based on an As Requested basis with discussion!

My primary / main Vox will be @doublejango's. It's not exclusive or anything, but he will have priority, especially since my Valentino muse only exists coz of them.

MUSE ≠ MUN. This is stated in my rules, but I will emphasize it here and now with his addition. Everything on my blog is a work of fiction; proceed with caution, curate your space accordingly, but do not think for a moment that you may pass judgement upon me or that I condone the actions of the character.

If you are interested in interacting with my Valentino, please feel free to approach at any time! Just have patience. He's a new flavor for me.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Shuddered

Author’s note: More of Divergence AU with Selkie Squad. Thanks to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric.

Summary: Korvith and his brothers find a dead Primaris Tech Marine in Black Templar colors in the forest and call it in.

Warnings: Mentions of a dead body. Let me know if I need to add anything else.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis, @undeaddream

Korvith and his squad- they were helping Charbdis squad with a few things in and around Gannet Point. One of his squad mates- a Tech marine, had thought he'd heard a distress call and they were headed in the direction of the call.

What they found is the dead body of a Black Templar Primaris Marine- a Tech Marine, and from his wounds, as they check his body for any signs of life, none. He was killed- and from the way some of his wounds were partially healed and not-healed.

Someone had killed him on Ancient Terra. Korvith swears softly and sends a Priority message to Zariel about as he listens to his brother, who's also a Tech Marine murmur prayers to the Omnisiah among other things.

They make a stretcher and take the poor dead soul to the Loyalist base near Gannet Point- taking a path that wouldn't alarm the locals, or be watched as closely by their brothers and cousins in the base.

For some reason, Korvith hears the impossible flutter of feathers as he looks around and then up.

"No!" He hears some one call out in distress and looks up.

A young blood angel, with wings of the Primarch flies down and Korvith dodges the swipe of the younger marine's blade as the mahogany of his eyes turn more red.

"We found him dead," Korvith says dodging the youngster.

"A Likely story, first born," Jophiel hisses at the mixed squad of First Born cousins as they set his dead brother-cousin down and focus on him.

There are tears in his eyes- he'd gotten a nightmare-ish vision. He'd been too late to find Castiel- but he'd be damned before he'd let these bastards steal his body to desecrate it.

"We need to get his body to the Apothecaries." Korvith says firmly.

"One is on his way," Jophiel snarls at them trying to be as Big and Large as possible, "as is a Chaplain, both of the Black Templars. Body thieves!"

"We were taking him to the Loyalist Base nearest to Gannet Point." Korvith continues.

"A likely story," A different voice calls out and Korvith sees another Large, yet Scout aged ... raven guard? Night Lord? step out of the shadows, eyes flashing towards them in dislike, his eyes flashing, "Teal. Begone, you opportunistic bastards."

"What?" Korvith says sounding terribly confused, "are you talking about?"

"I bet you are taking this body to Apothecary Zariel," Claude says, scowling at Korvith.

Korvith and his squad are trying to calm the pair of Primaris Marines down- when they hear the stomp of running boots of Ceramite on forest floor.

He looks and sees a couple more Primaris Marines- both Black Templars, ah, Apothecary in Training Cedric, and Judicar Chaplain in training Ramiel. Both with scowls, and the set of their shoulders, meaning they are ready for a fight if needed.

Korvith sends a subtle signal and his squad backs off, "We are here to help."

"Yeah right," Jophiel snaps back, "Pull the other one, it has bells on it."

"We aren't lying," Korvith says, trying to keep his temper.

Ramiel and Cedric are on either side of their dead brother. Ramiel is murmuring and reciting the prayers to the God Emperor. While the Cedric is assessing Castiel's body and pulling out the gene-seed and organ jars to do the grim duties of an Apothecary to their honored dead.

[another-lost-mc]

I love how you did a better job with the worldbuilding than solmare ever did. I’m literally still interested in this game because of your blog. I had a discussion with my sister about how annoying it is that some characters always behave the same, like beelzebub being hungry all the time. I dislike how solmare didn’t put a lot of effort into understanding the sins. They were just like, 'Oh, gluttony? Let’s make this demon hungry all the time' while the actual sin is more about overconsumption in general. So, I was curious how you felt about that lack of depth. Like for example when you write about your oc’s or other characters where the sins play a role, do you have like solmare’s version in mind or do you go think deeper than that?

Oh, that's such a nice compliment that you enjoy some of the world building nonsense I like to ramble about. 🤗 I can literally talk about this stuff all day.

The upside to Solmare's neglect of those nitty-gritty details is that players have more room to explore the other possibilities. I love how everyone in this community has their own headcanons and beliefs to shape their view of the game world and its characters. This community is so creative! I've read so many other ideas that are fascinating and more in-depth than what Solmare have written themselves, and while my ideas won't appeal to everyone, it's nice to have this space to explore them anyway.

When it comes to my personal worldbuilding, sins are really important to fleshing out all the different motivations and goals characters have. I agree that a lot of the characters have the odd moment to shine, but otherwise are lumped into the lazy stereotype of their character. It's really annoying.

Part of the problem with having so many characters and trying to give them screen time is that none of them get developed beyond easily recognizable traits: Beel eating nonstop, Satan being obsessed with cats, Mammon complaining about being broke, Asmo's narcissism and flirtations. Even with the events, some of their choices are missed opportunities to highlight characters in ways we don't normally get to see. Beel being the highlight character for a Fangol or sports-themed event? Nah, throw Barbatos in there because Beel can show up when there's food around. Like yes, okay, we get it. But what else is there? If Solmare won't explore beyond the bare minimum interpretation of their sins, the players just have to do it themselves.

My personal solution for that is two-fold: assigning a secondary sin for each character to add more nuance/depth to their view of the world and their place in it, and expanding the interpretation of their sins beyond the literal meanings. Demon royalty, as leaders of the Devildom and the most powerful embodiments of sin, may have multiple sins that influence their leadership styles and priorities.

(I have some ideas for angelic virtues and elemental alignments, but that's a subject for another post.)

Some other ideas tied to my headcanons about sins include:

Demons have extremely long life spans and I think it's natural for their secondary sins to shift over time as their environment and circumstances change. (I think in extreme situations, a demon's primary sin may also change - this is something I imagine happened with Diavolo's father.)

Certain types of demons are naturally drawn to one sin more than others. Crow demons, as a part of Mammon's cohort of demons, tend to be Greed-aligned. Not all Lust demons are incubi, but all incubi/succubi are Lust demons. Lesser demons - the ones that make up the foot soldiers of the Devildom's legions, tend to be aligned with Wrath or Envy which empowers their capabilities in times of war with the angels/other realms.

Demons that are exorcised and respawn later may have different sin alignments than their previous incarnations.

Fallen angels demonstrate early "warning signs" of their sin(s) at some point prior to being cast out of the Celestial Realm. Their natures truly manifest once their transformation from angel to demon is complete after falling to the Devildom.

The canon cast and OCs all have designated primary and secondary sins. I know some of the combinations for the OCs in particular might seem a little...odd...but that's because the interpretation of their sin goes beyond "greed = money-hungry" or "gluttony = over-eating". Some of the sins have some overlapping tendencies too. Here are examples of how the OCs' primary sins manifest for them:

Karasu & Greed - Karasu might not appreciate spending or earning money the way Mammon does, but he appreciates wealth of all sorts. Not only money, but knowledge. His nest is a hoard of the riches he's accumulated over his long life, earned through his lifetime's work. Other hints of this sin peek through in his romantic relationships: he wants to be praised, to worship and be worshipped, to have his lover's time and attention and focus solely on him. He gives all of himself in return - an equal exchange, but not one made lightly either.

Azra & Lust - It's not just about sex, but it does play a significant part in how his sin manifests. After a long list of poor choices made with good intentions, he ultimately fell from the Celestial Realm because what he wanted - his relationship with Meta, one that he didn't think was possible if they remained angels under Father's strict thumb - outweighed everything else in his mind. When he fell, he became an incubus, and in a way it damned him to a life where he is forced to feed his sexual appetites with anyone but the one person he desired most.

Tenebris & Gluttony - He was obsessed with finding ways to make himself powerful and worthy in the eyes of the nobility and his father. He embarked on a very selfish and relentless pursuit of knowledge and power that would enhance his naturally gifted magical abilities. Those efforts led to him gorging himself not on food but on humans. Not just their souls either, but their flesh and blood and bones - all harvested without guilt or shame, to be used for his magical experiments and to fuel his spell work. He nearly killed himself in the process but he justified it in his mind as necessary. It was only his indirect involvement in Bathin's exorcism, and the shame and guilt that came after, that finally convinced him to stop and reflect on what he had done.

Related world building posts:

Primary and Secondary Sin Alignments

Demon Royalty & Sin

Diavolo's Father: Sins of the Demon King

[enzaelectric]

Air-Insulated vs Gas-Insulated Switchgear: Which One is Right for You?

In the world of power distribution, switchgear plays a vital role in ensuring safe, reliable, and efficient control of electrical systems. But when it comes to choosing the right type of switchgear for your application, a common debate arises: Air-Insulated Switchgear (AIS) or Gas-Insulated Switchgear (GIS) — which one is the better fit?

In this blog, we’ll break down the key differences, pros and cons, and application suitability of each, helping you make an informed decision.

What is Switchgear?

Before diving into the comparison, let’s quickly recap what switchgear is. Switchgear is a combination of electrical disconnect switches, fuses or circuit breakers used to control, protect, and isolate electrical equipment. It’s critical for fault detection, power isolation, and system protection in electrical networks.

Switchgear typically falls into two main types based on insulation medium:

Air-Insulated Switchgear (AIS)

Gas-Insulated Switchgear (GIS)

What is Air-Insulated Switchgear (AIS)?

Air-Insulated Switchgear uses air as the primary dielectric medium for insulation between live parts and ground. It’s commonly found in both indoor and outdoor substations.

Pros of AIS:

Lower Initial Cost: Generally less expensive to manufacture and install.

Simple Design: Easier to maintain, inspect, and service.

Ease of Modification: Flexible and scalable for future upgrades or expansions.

Environmentally Safer: No greenhouse gases like SF₆ are used.

Cons of AIS:

Larger Footprint: Requires more physical space, making it unsuitable for compact or urban environments.

Vulnerable to Environmental Factors: Susceptible to dust, humidity, and pollution in outdoor settings.

What is Gas-Insulated Switchgear (GIS)?

Gas-Insulated Switchgear uses sulfur hexafluoride (SF₆) gas as the insulating medium. This technology allows high-voltage switchgear to be extremely compact.

Pros of GIS:

Compact Design: Ideal for space-constrained environments like cities, buildings, and offshore platforms.

High Reliability: Fully enclosed system offers excellent protection against external elements.

Minimal Maintenance: Components are sealed and protected, requiring less frequent servicing.

Longer Lifespan: Designed for durability and consistent performance.

Cons of GIS:

Higher Initial Cost: More expensive in terms of equipment and installation.

SF₆ Gas Concerns: Although SF₆ is effective, it’s a potent greenhouse gas with strict handling requirements.

Complex Repairs: Repairs and servicing can be more specialized and expensive.

AIS vs GIS: Quick Comparison Table

Feature AIS GIS Insulation Medium Air SF₆ Gas Size / Space Needed Larger Very Compact Initial Cost Lower Higher Maintenance Frequent Minimal Environmental Impact Low High (due to SF₆)Installation Complexity Simpler More complex Suitability Rural, open spaces Urban, limited-space settings

Which One Is Right for You?

The decision between AIS and GIS depends on several key factors:

1. Available Space

Choose GIS for space-limited locations like high-rise buildings, tunnels, and offshore platforms.

Choose AIS if you have ample room and want easier access for maintenance.

2. Budget Constraints

If cost is a concern, AIS offers a more economical solution.

If lifetime value and reliability are priorities, GIS might justify the investment.

3. Environmental Considerations

AIS is more eco-friendly due to the absence of SF₆.

GIS requires special handling and monitoring for SF₆, especially in regions with strict environmental regulations.

4. Application Type

AIS is well-suited for:

Power stations

Industrial zones

Rural substations

GIS is ideal for:

Urban substations

Underground systems

Critical infrastructure with limited space

Final Thoughts

Both Air-Insulated and Gas-Insulated Switchgear have their strengths and are engineered to serve specific needs. The right choice ultimately depends on your project requirements, site conditions, budget, and sustainability goals.

As a trusted supplier of high-performance switchgear, we can help you evaluate the best solution tailored to your project — ensuring safety, reliability, and efficiency.

[endlessrailroad]

endless railroad's prompt event!

Welcome to our prompt event! Very simple concept, you'll have a set of five prompts to complete for an entry into a raffle for cool prizes! Isn't that nice? There's also extra challenges for bonus entries into the raffle, and a special prize for those that complete every challenge AND prompt! All the information under the read more ^^ (this totally isnt an excuse to run an event because we want to nooo why would you think that)

(psd for event header)

Prompt list

1 : Food themed edit

2 : Base the edit on a song (alternatively, on a book/poem)

3 : Assign a Pokemon type to a character

4 : Edit from our whitelist! (Extra entry if its for a bolded character (EXCLUDING pjsk))

5 : Free prompt! Have fun :]

Challenge list

1 : Do the opposite of your style! High contrast/Low Contrast, Pastels/Dark, Neon/Desaturated, so on and so forth (You don’t have to flip it entirely, just one is enough)

2 : Make an edit inspired by someone else’s style! (No need to tag them but do drop the editor)

3 : Make a poster for a character of your choice

4 : Make a moodboard with pictures you took yourself! (I don’t have a way of proving this but gentleman’s rule <3)

Event Information

Complete 5 prompts (or replace them w/ challenges) and you get an entry

Each extra challenge apart of your five prompts (+ the prompt 4 extra) adds another entry (challenges that replaced prompts dont count). Your challenge HAS to be made as a separate edit for it to count.

Complete all challenges and prompts and you get a priority edit of your choice of any character (excluding blacklist) as a bonus onto your entries

@ us in your submissions and use the tag "50trainlinesevent" so we can keep track of submissions!

You dont need to do one per day! You can do multiple in one day as long as they're in order (Excluding challenges, which can be done in whatever order). In theory you could post all 9 edits the last day if you really wanted to ^^

No current deadline! Once a total of five people have made all 5 primary prompts, a new deadline will be placed for challenges.

Raffle Prizes!

1st place : A full blog setup including layouts, replycons, and graphics 2nd place : Four graphics or layouts of your choice 3rd place : Three icon or replycon sets of your choice

[talon-dragonbeast]

gender and sex: an essay about dragon Roles

[content warning for dragon mating habits and reproductive biology]

so i was reading the My Gender Is (Not) Human zine that came out a couple days ago, and in it there was a writing from a fellow dragon called Noel (blog is @opal-claws) who explained the 4 gender variations that existed in their species. it's a very interesting read, that describes the roles each dragon takes (which are Suitor/Prospect and settled/nomadic) and all the little facets of each one of them.

and i guess it got me thinking a bit. yes, my dragon species has two traditional sexes, male and female, but the majority of dragons dont have a 'gender' as humans do. we are mostly agender, and only those dragons who have spent lives with humans have more traditional genders. being male or female doesnt matter in the grand scheme of things, and only if youre actively looking to mate. but even then, you dont even have to choose a partner of the opposite sex for it! because, at least with females, we are capable of having offspring without any kind of sexual contact (we are awesome like that). it's a process called parthenogenesis, and occurs in many species of lizards including komodo dragons. the end result of this process is a genetic clone of its respective parent, and the dragonet will always be female (of course, this leads to a bit of a loss in genetic variation, but its useful if you dont have any males available, or if youre a lesbian). there is also another option, at least in females (males really do get the short end of the stick in reproduction tactics, dont they?), of mating once with a male and "saving up" the seed inside of the cloaca so you can still lay fertilised eggs for many years without having to mate again.

but thats only the "biological" part. in dragon society, there are gender roles, but not in the way humans think of them. as i said, our genders are not tied to our sexes at all, and they are not influenced by reproductive habits either. our Roles are more about your function in society, what your instincts tell you to do. for example, my instincts are primarily of protection. im a solitary dragon, and my territory is always my number one priority. i patrol, i watch over it, i drive out possible intruders, and i never leave my forest. at the end of the day, i return to my den with my hoard and my nest, and just sleep until the next day. so id say my 'Role' would be Protector. there are other types of dragons, like Provider (primarily a hunter, the one that brings resources for their mate or dragonets; very nomadic, they dont like to stay in one place for too long) and Carer (theyre by far the most social role; as the name implies, they are the primary carers of our young, but they also keep balance in a community).

as you can see, none of the Roles are related to the capability of producing offspring, as both males and females can have any Role; but you dont even have to have offspring at all to feel fulfilled in your Role! its just about what kind of dragon you are; your function in society.

just thought it was interesting.