#I'm a little burnt out ngl

[dandydogboy]

Only got four more done smh 😔 oh well

Venus | belongs to @solar-saber (solarsaber)

Sprinkles | belongs to @d0rkyaf (DorkyAF)

Jester | belongs to Sporruki

Callie (the popstar wolf) | belongs to SillyCallie

Go attack these people (art fight reference) if you have time bc they're all incredible!! If not save them for next year 👀

Anyway

:]

[practically-an-x-man]

it's one of those days where i'm really craving interaction and validation i guess :/

[khytal]

you were the reason I started trigun and you will be the reason I start detective conan (it's been in my radar for years but the number of episodes intimidates me)

>:]c

I was watching 1-2 episodes of detco when I felt like it and it wasn't until after heiji's first case that I started going through several episodes per day lmao. I saw ep1 back in april so I was actually watching on and off for quite some time before I really picked it up

like. I was on ep48 (heiji's introduction case) 2.5 weeks ago and now i'm at ep264 it's terrible sdkjfhgskjfd

anyway one of my friends has been guiding me through the series so I'll pass some info along to you x)

-I'm following this wiki page to skip filler (there's like 400 episodes of filler so it cuts down the daunting 1000+ episodes haha)

-I personally felt like the anime's pacing was kinda slow at the beginning, partially because it didn't follow the manga's order of events at first, but the fact that every case is 1-2 episodes means it's a lot easier to watch when you have time

-the downside of this is if you have too much time you can get sucked into watching several cases back to back lmao

-there's a point in the anime where shinichi just suddenly knows the names of the guys in black from ep1, because he was supposed to learn them in the case that ep5 is an adaptation of, but that episode was changed so the men conan eavesdropped on weren't the criminals he was looking for (so you just have to pretend he got their names in ep5, which is canonically when he heard them in the manga)

-if you'd like to read it instead, it's on mangadex 👍

have fun !! :')

[pierswife]

You see, the real April Fool's joke was Vash's placement on my F/O list.

This right here? A farce.

Now this? This is the truth.

[tidepoolalgae]

ughhhhh it's been so long since I was on that physics grind lol, why can't grad school just be a more welcoming/appealing path?

[beardedjoel]

smother - part i: deliverance

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: starving. lost. desperate. you find a cabin in the woods, and to your dismay, it's occupied. a plan to have a quick bite of food with an intense, intriguing stranger turns into more than you'd bargained for when he makes you realize everything you've been missing out on. 8.6k words chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! noncon, nonconsensual touching, dubcon - reader eventually enthusiastically consents but the syndrome is stockholming so its dubcon, reader is a virgin, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55) manipulation/lying/gaslighting, slow burn and tension building chapter, joel is kind of a creepy menace ngl a/n: i'm so so very excited to share the first chapter of my new series! (if this flops after how much i got hyped for it i will be logging off forever) the themes in this story are dark so if the tags aren’t for you it’s understandable & just keep scrollin on by! this will end up being nasty and smutty, but only after a wee bit of buildup so don't fear. comments and reblogs are always beyond appreciated!

Save me. Please, anyone…

Another wave of desolate, crying desperation tears through you as you trudge along, tripping yet again - maybe over your own two feet, a root, the very ground you walk on, something. You’re much too hazy and burnt out to even care what you stumbled on as you just press on, press on, press on.

A wave of pain rolls through your stomach again as it burns cavernously empty. You move as a ghost, a shell of yourself now, using passing trees as support. Your hands touch the cold wood reluctantly, a painful little hiss through your teeth as your fingers practically cramp up from the cold. You’d lost your gloves somewhere along the way, days ago now, what feels like a lifetime. You need to stop and rest desperately now, your body close to giving out. Your heart hammers in fear, wondering if you’d even be able to get up again.

A cabin comes into view in the distance, tucked nicely in a clearing of trees. You think your eyes are deceiving you, that you’ve finally succumbed to the madness that comes with such hunger and loneliness, your brain conjuring up images to comfort you. You see smoke coming out of a chimney on the roof, and your heart equally swells and drops at the discovery - it’s not a shelter for you alone, no. Not a lucky discovery, somewhere to lay your head tonight that’s dry and warm without disturbance. Someone already lives here, has a home here, and they might not take too kindly to strangers. If there’s anything you’ve learned in the last few weeks of your own personal hell, it’s to tread carefully. Always.

You keep your footsteps light and quiet, trying to approach with some semblance of caution. Your empty stomach is pushing you along, begging for any scrap of food that might be inside, hopefully offered up to you by the kindness of a stranger. Berries and the occasional rabbit or lucky can of food found were not enough to live off of anymore - you could feel the way your body faded away by the day, losing any bit of strength you’d had in the first place.

You pause, hitching your breath and then barely daring to breathe at all when you get close enough to hear a sound - a low, throaty grunting followed by the crack of wood. Your eyes scan the area as you sneak closer and then land upon him. He’s broad and muscled, you can see that much from back here. Messy, dark hair that curls all around his head and down his neck. When his body turns enough that you see his face a little bit more, you notice he looks older and has dark, piercing eyes. They send a shudder through you, even from afar, only making you feel colder out in this frosty afternoon.

You wrap your coat a little tighter and decide to get closer, assess the situation, see if he seems friendly enough to give you something to eat and send you on your merry way. He swings an ax high up in the air and brings it down swiftly onto a large piece of wood, splitting it before tossing the logs into a pile already full of more firewood. You press your lips together, noticing how strong he is, betting there are well built up muscles underneath that flannel shirt of his. That makes him a threat, a big one, you quickly assess. 

You’re too distracted, not watching your step, when a large branch cracks underneath your boot. You wince and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, holding perfectly still, your breath coming out in quick, staccato exhales.

“H-hey!” you hear a gruff voice, sounding out of breath. You peek your eyes open slowly to see the man looking in your direction and silently curse yourself. “C’mon out!” he yells, and you see him reach to his waist, hands grazing a shining revolver holstered there.

Your stomach pulls into tight knots and you stand frozen for a few moments. Your brain quickly assesses everything, weighing the options. Running away, with no possibility of eating a single thing is one option, but the likelihood this stranger will shoot you seems high no matter what, so you decide to take your chances.

You put your hands in front of you, palms out, and slowly emerge from behind the trees. You walk gingerly along the crisp, frosty grass, crunching under your feet every step of the way. Your anxious breaths come out in little puffs in front of you as the cold air enters and exits your lungs.

The man falters, his fist closing and then opening again, pulling away from the revolver on his hip a bit. He blinks hard, staring at you in this silent showdown. “W-well shit, you’re just a girl…” he finally says quietly to himself, his posture relaxing a little. You stand perfectly still, choked up now that you’re confronted with the idea of speaking to him, such a large, imposing wall of a man, and those eyes, god, those eyes.

“I’m not gonna hurt you if you don’t give me a reason to, now, girl.” His voice is the tiniest bit softer, and you pick up on his Southern drawl, an accent you’ve heard a few times before. “Do ya need help?” He wipes his forehead with the back of his arm, a gleam of sweat having built up from chopping wood and his large chest still heaving. He takes a step closer to you, and you don’t step back, but feel every muscle coil up tightly as your mind screams at you that this was a mistake, a huge fucking mistake. Your feet tingle, toes flexing and getting ready to run, but you can’t make yourself do it, to take that first step.

Instead, you nod. “I- y-yes…” you say quietly. You’ll never understand why you say it, other than the fact that you’re drawn in by him, by his chestnut hair flecked with gray, his patchy beard that he’s currently scratching. By his build that looks so… safe yet dangerous, but you get the feeling that no, he’d never hurt you. You envision those arms wrapping around you, holding you tightly, shielding you from the world and everything you’ve been through. You never thought much about relationships or boys before - just a few simple and innocent crushes, but it hadn’t been on your radar as such a shy kid and teenager. But this… this was what people talked about - attraction. It nearly stole your breath the closer you got to him, threatening to suck you into what felt like an endless void. 

“Alright,” the man replies, trying to match your quieter demeanor. He glances around, eyes narrowed and scanning the woods beyond you. “You with anyone? Or all alone out here?”

You know why he’s asking, you’ve seen what people can do - sending someone innocent and unimposing out to lay a trap, but you don’t lie when you shake your head. “A-alone. I’m alone, swear, sir.”

His jaw seems to tick, noticeable even from the distance you’re at before he answers you. “Okay, then. C’mon a little closer, I won’t bite, okay?” he says, and he’s so convincing that you do believe him, despite your instincts telling you otherwise. The world is cruel and unrelenting, taking away most of the trust you’ve ever had in humanity the second you place it into anything or anyone. 

You move a little closer, small, gentle steps, and he nods encouragingly. 

“Now there ya go. Look at ya…” he marvels with a click of his tongue, shaking his head once you’re just a few feet away from him. 

He takes in your messy hair, slightly matted from wearing a winter hat on and off the last few weeks and sleeping on the ground. Your clothes have seen better days too, your skin smudged with dirt no matter how many water sources you found to try and rinse off a little bit. Even despite all of that, he gazes at you with a curiosity, with that look of interest that you felt like you’d given him without trying to. It’s quiet for another moment, the both of you sizing each other up, until Joel’s look turns a little more pitiful when you shiver as a sudden gust of wind whips past you, your threadbare coat doing little to protect you from the chill in the air here. You can’t be sure if your shuddering has less to do with the wind and more with the way that this man’s eyes are digging into what feels like your very soul.

“We gotta get you inside, okay? You’re shakin’, and you look like you ain’t had a proper meal in… too long…” He continues to eye you up and down, taking in your weak frame. 

You stay silent for another moment, swallowing hard and then shuddering again. “I - I don’t know…” you breathe out. You might have some sudden, fantastical dream that this man is your savior, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be cautious - the mind is a tricky, deceiving thing.

“I ain’t gonna ask again, ain’t gonna beg ya, girl. C’mon,” he says a little more roughly, a hand shooting out quickly and grabbing you by the wrist and tugging. “Just want to get a good meal in you, alright?”

You wince at the grasp on your wrist, the roughness and hardness he’s starting to show you, but you let him pull, starting to move your feet and trail after him. 

“T-thank you…sir,” you murmur quietly, and he swings his head to look back at you, his eyes softening. 

“You’re welcome. Now get inside and get warm. I’ve got a fire goin’.” He lets go of your wrist, trusting you to follow him as his heavy boots clunk up the few steps leading to the front door of his cabin. It’s modest, beautifully constructed, all dark wood around the outside and a small porch. You start to wonder if this man built it himself, or just found it as it is. Your initial impression of him leads you to believe that he does seem like the type to build a whole god damn cabin. He half looks like a lumberjack already in the plaid flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. 

“Found this place ‘bout five years ago,” he says as if he could read your mind while he swings the door open. “Real nice and private, so don’t worry.”

Your eyes narrow slightly at his last comment, but you try to brush it off as you enter inside with him. The warm air hits your body, an immediate balm to your frayed nerves and chilled skin, a slightly smoky smell from the fire hits your nostrils and you immediately hear the crackle and pop of the logs in the little fireplace. The cabin is mainly one big room, a kitchen tucked into the corner right to the left of the door, and the living room beyond that with cozy couches and chairs, even a TV that you doubt is working but find yourself hopeful for some reason. It’s been a long time since you were able to watch a movie, flashing back to childhood memories when you’d lived in a more stable, thriving community that had power. 

Stairs beyond that lead to what you assume are bedrooms or a bathroom, and your eyes curiously take in all the little details and decor - the man’s jackets hanging along the wall near the entrance, his rifle propped next to the door and several different pairs of worn boots. 

You realize you’re just standing right near the doorway, silently looking around in a daze while your new acquaintance has been trying to get your attention. 

“Hey, girl, I’m talkin’ t’ya…” his voice says, the noise fading back into your consciousness.

You shake your head. “S-sorry,” you say quietly, a shy little squeak. “I was just -“

“S’alright. I got some stew goin’, that okay? I mean y’don’t have much of a choice, but I’ll ask anyhow,” he says with a wry chuckle. You simply nod in response. 

“Now go on, put your things down and sit ‘n get comfortable,” he waves towards the general direction of the kitchen table and the couch before turning back to the stove to stir the pot simmering there. You stand, feeling frozen still, panic threatening to climb up through your insides and completely take over. You still don’t feel safe, despite this man offering to warm you and feed you. How could you, you think, when you’ve been running for several weeks, trying to get away from the carnage that became your life. 

He eyes you, unmoving and frightened looking and sighs heavily. “I said,” he says, tension thickening in the air around you, “Sit.”

You clear your throat, desert dry and scratchy, and set your backpack by the door, slowly creeping over to the couch, not wanting to make this mystery man any angrier. You settle yourself down and the cushions feel like heaven, your legs and body achy from the lack of comfort you’ve had for weeks. You try not to show just how good it feels to settle into the soft, plush fabric, letting the cushions mold to your body.

“Good,” Joel coos as he glances at you from the stove. “Now that we’ve got you settled in, you got a name?”

You weakly tell him your name and he shows you the first little smile you’ve seen from him, nodding. “Gotcha. I’m Joel, okay?”

“O-okay.” You push the words out while you watch him stir the pot on the stove. You sit in silence for a few moments, thankful for the time to just catch your breath and think. Just one bowl of stew, and you’ll be out of here. You’ll ask if there’s a community nearby, somewhere that could take you in, then grab that information and run, not bother this man any more than you need to.

Joel walks over, handing you a cup of water that you shamelessly start to gulp down before he goes back and ladles some of the delicious smelling stew into a bowl. The second the scent hits you, your stomach rumbles loudly. Joel cracks a smile as he hears it and continues ladling, a brow quirked. 

“Hungry, huh?” he asks, walking the steaming bowl over to you with a spoon. You gingerly take it from his hands, being careful not to brush your still chilled fingers against his. You swear his eyes flash at you when he notices how avoidant you’re being, but he turns and walks back to the stove, getting himself a bowl as well. Joel settles down into a chair across from the couch where you sit with a weathered groan, just watching you for a few quiet moments. It does everything but put you at ease, your stomach twisting a little. You blow on a spoonful of stew before taking a bite, your mouth an explosion as it waters and takes in the delicious, rich, food. 

“Mmm,” you whine out, unable to help it. Your body wants to lunge forward, lap the stew up until every single drop is in your starved body and you can finally feel a sense of fullness again. You quickly take another spoonful, much too hot, and wince a little as it hits your tongue. 

“Slow on down, girl,” Joel says. “Let’s talk a little and it’ll slow down your eating.”

You just stare, noticing your body is trembling a little bit, and has been since you met Joel outside. You try to take a deep breath to settle your nerves, your legs so tensely pressed together that it's starting to hurt.

“You feelin’ afraid of me, that it?” he asks you, looking a little too self satisfied at the observation as he crosses his arms and leans towards you. His biceps bulge and stretch with the motion and you can’t help but find your eyes drawn to them, the way they pull at the soft flannel of his shirt. You feel your face heat up all the way to your ears and you blink hard, averting your eyes. 

“I- I mean… I don’t know you…” you mutter, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

“I know,” he says, sounding more sympathetic. “Done some bad things in my time, so hell, maybe you should be scared of me. I ain’t a nice guy. But I won’t hurt someone like you, promise ya that.” His words are enough of a reason for you to hightail it out of here the first second you can, but why do you believe them? Why do you believe him?

“How d-do you know I’m not bad too? That I don’t deserve it?” His eyes narrow and his lip twitches into a smirk before he lets out a mocking little chuckle in your direction.

“Oh sweetheart, a man jus’ knows these things. You never hurt even a fly, now have you?” That smirk stays plastered on Joel’s face as he asks and it frustrates you how little of a threat he sees in you, how little fight you have left to give. Yet you can’t find yourself blaming him, you think. If you were facing yourself in his position you’re sure you’d look like as much of a feeble joke as you feel.

You frown, still unable to look him in the eyes for longer than a few seconds, and shake your head. “No… just for hunting…” you admit.

“Alright then. Y’don’t need to act tough in front of me, girl, got it?” Joel concludes, going back to eating his stew.

“Got it,” you respond quietly, letting yourself sink further into the couch as you feel your muscles slowly relaxing.

“Now tell me... what’s this all about? What’s a little young thing like you doin’ out here by herself?”

You bite your lip and sip slowly on another spoonful of stew. “I’m… uh…” you stutter nervously. 

“Spit it out now, there’s nothin’ to be afraid of here, hm?” Joel tries reassuring you, but his words keep coming out so gruffly, doing little to make you feel much better. 

You inhale a deep breath. “Okay…” You swallow. “I was in a… community. I lived there a long time. T-they’re all gone now, I think. We got completely overrun and so I ran.” You sniffle as your nose starts to run from the warmth of the house opposing the cold you’d gotten accustomed to. 

Joel leans forward a bit in his chair, taking a hearty bite of stew, mulling your words over. “Overrun how?” he asks simply, glancing at you, studying your movements, your body language, everything. 

“U-uh, hunters, raiders, whatever they are. Bad.. b-bad people…” You look down at your bowl, not wanting to meet the intensity of his gaze, afraid to fall into his strange, hard warmth. 

“Hm… awful fuckers, ain’t they,” he says, scratching a hand down his beard. “You got away, then?”

You nod and bite inside of your lip, taking another spoonful of stew to keep yourself occupied. “Y-yeah. I ran and ran… just kept… going. They took everything, took over all of our homes…”

Joel sighs, his eyes finally going a little softer. “‘M sorry to hear that, darlin’. You know if anyone is still alive?”

You shrug. “No…”

“Your family? They with ya at this community?”

“Oh.” You shake your head. “No. They… all, uh, passed a long time ago.” Why the hell are you being so open with this stranger? You don’t owe him your story, your secrets, any of it. But you sense the urge to share it, anyhow. Maybe you’re just that desperate for human connection right now. 

“Mm, sorry to hear it again. We all know that feelin’ in a world like this,” he replies thoughtfully. Your eyes widen a bit at the softness he’s showing you right now and you give him a tight lipped smile to show your own sympathy for his losses. 

“You feel up for tellin’ me a little more about the attack? S’okay if it’s too much,” Joel adds on, still studying you with an odd gaze, almost like he’s drinking you in, quenching some thirst he had. His hand twitches, almost as if to reach out to you, but he’s much too far from where he sits right now. 

“I’m not sure if t-there’s much to tell…” you start, but then you find yourself spilling out more details, feeling the freeing sensation of unloading your burdens onto someone else. You tell Joel your community was small but well taken care of, plenty of supplies and food, in an abundant time in its history the last few months. One evening everything changed, when an armed group of mostly men came in, a few women and children in tow, looking absolutely miserable, and they aimed their guns in the air and shot off a few rounds to get everyone’s attention. People came flooding out of their homes, trying to run, only to be tackled or shot down, forced to give up our food and belongings. You tried to hide for as long as you could before slipping out of the home you shared with an older couple who had been taking care of you since you were a teenager, Harry and Josephine. They’d urged you to run, run, run, so you did. Then came your lost days, where you had no clue where you were, when you’d find your next semblance of humanity. Just trying to head west, further and further from the bitter memories you’d now have to leave behind. Barren towns and wilderness passed you over the days, hardly seeing another soul as you hid from infected, spending your nights crying yourself to sleep when you had the energy. 

And now… here you were, sitting on Joel’s couch and eating stew. Unsure of what the hell you’d do next or where you had to go. You had been an orphan for a long time, but this felt deeper, like you were an orphan to the entire world, almost, like you had nothing to even call your own now. 

Joel sits patiently, watching you stumble on words as you tell your story to him, trying not to get too choked up as all the emotions resurface. How empty things had been, how desolate the landscapes to match your faintly beating heart.

He’s leaned fully forward now in his seat, stew somewhat forgotten in his lap as you finish your recounting of the last few weeks. He breathes in and out, a large, heavy sigh that fills the room. It’s still now, fully quiet for a moment. 

“You’re a strong girl for goin’ through all of that, you know that?” he says finally, eyes softer than you’ve seen them yet. 

You just look down, returning to your stew, taking a few bites now that it’s at the perfect temperature. You’ve stopped shaking now, your body warmed up and starting to recognize that you’re getting full. You can’t eat much, your stomach unable to handle more just yet, so you push the stew away, setting it on the coffee table in front of you.

“Yeah…” you say, not really believing it as you glance out the window to watch the late afternoon sun, glaring off the ground outside, light filtering through the trees. 

“You got somewhere to go? After you’re fed and looked over, of course,” Joel asks, his eyebrow shooting up.

You consider lying, just to avoid what you’re afraid he’ll ask you. What you’re afraid you’ll say yes to. You still end up shaking your head silently, clearing your throat. You feel a sting of tears behind your eyes, your whole body going hot with the need to cry, but a deep desire to not show that weakness to him holds you back. You sniffle and blink, studying the knots in the old wood floors.

“Hey,” Joel says, trying to get your attention, to make you show him your vulnerability. “Look at me, c’mon now.” You hear him shift in his seat, a small movement born of irritation as you refuse to do as he says.

You sniffle again and clear your throat, a shake of your head making your hair fall forward, covering and hiding you further. 

“I said look at me.” That stern tone of his is back, sending a shudder through you and fear rippling deep inside your chest. You flick your red rimmed, shining eyes up to his, meeting the dark brown stare, lines permanently etched in between his eyes from all his years of worry.

“Atta girl,” he coos, completely pleasant now. “I got you, okay? You can stay, if ya need. I got food, a home, a warm bed for ya. If you have nowhere else.”

One more blink sends the tears falling down your cheeks, fat and overdue as they slide down your dirty skin, leaving tracks. You sniffle and nod, suddenly feeling a rush of gratitude towards Joel. He may be a stranger, but he fed you, got you warm, and is offering just about the kindest thing he can right now - an invasion on his space, his personal sanctuary, all for a girl he hardly even knows. 

“Y-you’d really do that?” you ask, a little incredulously, like this is a dream you’re about to wake up from any time now. 

He nods, a half smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Satisfaction plastered there now that he’s swayed you in his direction. “I would. Now I don’t wanna hear another word about it. You need to rest, you’ve been through a lot.”

“T-thank you. B-but-”

“Not. Another. Word,” he practically hisses, flashing his eyes angrily before it fizzles out quickly. You can see him practically having to reign in his impulsiveness in the moment. “There ain’t anywhere else to go that’ll keep you as safe as here, I’m tellin’ you that now. You’d be fuckin’ lost out there.” He sits back with his arms crossed now, and you’re worried that you’ve truly upset him now, that unsettling look in his eye glinting again. He wants you to stay… nearly seems to need it. It scares you, yet you feel a tug, a pull, some form of intrigue wanting you to explore that need, understand just what he could see in you.

“I’m s-sorry… I just - you’ve already done a lot for me, and I’d hate to, well, impose, or something,” you say, trying to appease him. It’s mostly true, anyhow, that you do hate to take Joel’s food and time away from him. 

He stands up and silently walks the few steps over to the couch, sitting down next to you, turning himself towards you. It feels like every muscle in your body tenses at his proximity - it makes him seem even bigger the way he takes up his cushion on the couch, body sinking in deeply, his wide shoulders practically a shield to you right now to everything behind him. Something about seeing him up this close is sending you reeling, able to study the lines in his face, his strong, wiry beard streaked with a few gray spots. You flick your eyes over his face, hoping to not be too obvious, but needing to drink him in, learn his features.

“I’m gonna have you listen to me right now, okay? Make sure you’re listenin’ real good, sweetheart.” He pauses for a moment to catch your eye, reaching a hand towards you but resting it right next to your thigh on the couch. “I’m offerin’ somethin’ mighty nice to you, ain’t I? You were ‘bout to die out there, if I’m honest. Much longer and you’d be a goner, I think. Don’t you?”

He’s waiting for a real answer from you, you realize, so you nod, eyes practically unblinking as you hang on his words, a hot coil burning in your stomach as you feel uneasiness eat at you.

“Right.” He sighs quietly. “I’m not tryin’ to be mean, sweetheart. In fact, I care a lot, that’s why I’m tellin’ the truth to ya like this. You ain’t built to be on your own, can see that clear as day. So I’ll have ya stay here and get fed and get your bearings. And I don’t want to hear anymore about it.” 

Of all the things Joel has just said to you, the thing that is stuck in your mind as you turn it over, is the way he’d said he cares. He cares about you. Would that be such a bad thing to be cared for, even if just for a little bit?

You give him a small dip of your head, a shaky smile coming to your lips. “Thank you. I’m uh, grateful.” You’re not sure what else to say, feeling like you’re signing yourself away to something you don’t feel sure about. 

“Ah look at that - a smile,” he says, clearly feeling much more light hearted now that you’ve agreed to accept his help. 

You sit back a little, your muscles finally losing some of their tension and start to eye Joel a little more curiously. “S-so you just live here all by yourself?” you ask, wishing you weren’t still such a stuttering mess. The fact was, this man made you nervous, in a way that you weren’t used to. He scared you, but in a way that it drew you in, a magnetic pull you couldn’t quite explain yet. Something in him commanded respect, reverence, almost, without trying. It was mesmerizing to witness, completely scrambling your mind if you started to think on it too hard. 

“Mhm,” Joel nods languidly, finishing off his stew and then sitting back with a satisfied sigh. He eyes your bowl that’s only half empty and then flicks them back to your face. “Ain’t gonna finish?” he asks, sounding a little irritated before his face softens. “Probably can’t fit much in your little belly right now, huh? Shrunk right up when you didn’t eat much these last few weeks.”

You nod. “I-it was good, I just… I couldn’t finish. It started to hurt…”

His eyes flash with concern. “We’ll take it slow, then,” he says, a little smile creeping onto his face.

You had noticed his avoidance to say much more about himself, so you decide to try your luck and press him again. You clear your throat, trying to turn towards him a little more as well. “You live alone. Don’t you… do you ever talk to other people?”

Joel chuckles, almost condescendingly. “‘Course I do. Town not too far from here - Jackson. I go once and a while to stock up, trade ‘em for some stuff and they’re mighty hospitable to me.”

You nod, trying not to let his snide laugh and tone get to you too much, blinking away the sensitive little tears that threaten to fall again. Joel cocks his head suddenly, seeming to notice. “T-that sounds pretty nice,” you choke out quickly.

“Sorry if I upset ya. Guess you’re right, don’t get enough practice talkin’ to people,” he says a little lighter now, smiling softly again. Joel’s version of a smile seems to only be a soft upturn of his lips, not friendly by nature. It puts you at ease and unease at the same time, that smile of his, but you’d rather see that than the scowl he was sporting at you earlier today. He pats your thigh a few times, showing his apology, and you watch his large hands move on you, noticing they’re scratched and rough. A man’s hands.

“W-wait… Jackson… this town. It’s close by?” you ask, glancing back up at him, the wheels in your head starting to turn. 

Joel’s face falls in an almost dramatic fashion, the lines between his eyes and around his cheeks getting deeper. “Why d’ya ask?” he says, his tone short and frayed sounding, leaning forward again, practically glaring at you from under his eyebrows.

Your own face falls, jaw slack for a moment before it tightens back up. “I just… I want to get out of your hair as quickly as possible, I-I don’t want to be a bother. Could find a new community there, or something…” You feel quiet as a mouse, unsure of how to assert yourself in front of Joel - it feels like there isn’t space for it when you share a room with him.

Joel’s expression becomes more stern. “Didn’t I already tell you, girl, that I’d take care of everythin’?” he spits out, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. You’re visibility tense now, your hands pressing into the cushions of the couch, ready to get up at any moment and bolt. “Y’don’t want to go to a place like that, so big, you’d be lost there, darlin’. Nobody to take care of you…”

He sits back a little, hands falling into his lap and an eyebrow cocked at you. “‘Sides,” he says, glancing out the window for a moment before studying you again. “Too far to go on your own. Can’t have you gettin’ lost in these woods again… look what happened last time, yeah?”

Maybe he’s right. You barely survived these last few weeks without completely losing your mind, and then your life, as he’s been so apt to tell you several times now. Joel… he saved you, and is offering you a place to stay, so the least you could do is be grateful for now. You could always convince him tomorrow, after you’ve had time to think and reset, to take you there, show you the way, and you can see for yourself if it’s a good fit for you or not.

“Y-yeah…” you stutter out, nodding. The look he shoots you has you choking out the next word before you can even think about it. “Yes,” you say more definitively.

“It’s settled then,” he says matter-of-factly, breathing in deeply, his burly chest rising, and then letting it out in a long, slow breath. “You probably wanna get some rest, yeah? I can set up the bed for ya.” Joel says, standing up and grabbing your bowl, taking it to the kitchen along with his empty one. 

“Do y-“ you start, standing up off the couch. 

“Yeah, I got two bedrooms, don’t worry.” His smile grows, liking that he found you predictable enough to know what you were about to ask. Your shoulders sag a little in relief and you give Joel more of a proper smile now, nodding your thanks.

“That would be great, then, yeah. And if it’s not too much…” you voice trails off and you stare at the ground, focusing your eyes on the pattern of the well worn rug underneath your feet. “Maybe a shower, bath, whatever you’ve got.”

Joel turns to face you and then walks back into the living area. He has a calm, serene expression, slightly lit up. “I’ll do ya one better. Get you some clean clothes to wear after that shower, too.”

Nothing in the entire world sounds better than what he’s offering right now.

You hiss loudly as the hot, steaming water hits your leg when you step in. Within moments, you’re basking under it, watching the dirt and dried blood from your various scrapes and scratches swirl down the drain for what feels like ages, finally seeing the water run clear as you lather up the threadbare washcloth Joel had left out for you and scrub yourself down. Every nook, every cranny, your scalp, face, everywhere you could get three times over. You can’t remember the last time you’d felt so clean, even when you’d lived back with your community. You hum happily for a few moments, letting the water soothe you for just a while longer. You hoped Joel could forgive you for taking a little bit of extra hot water today given the circumstances.

Joel hears the water running from downstairs, his fists balling up and relaxing over and over as he sits on his favorite chair, his gaze facing the stairs leading to the spare bedroom and attached bathroom. He feels tense, rolling his neck, continuing to pump his fists open and closed. A feeling in the back of his neck, traveling down his spine and legs that he couldn’t ignore - an urge. He stands up an instant later, not bothering with his well-ignored conscience, and walks upstairs and through the bedroom door with careful steps as he still has on his boots. He presses a hand onto the brass doorknob, turning it slowly, ever so slowly, pushing the door open just an inch, just… enough.

His eyes fall on the shower curtain, a white cloth that perfectly shows your silhouette through it. The valleys and curves of your body move around, arms scrubbing yourself. Joel can smell the evergreen scented soap drifting through the steamy, thick air, watching your body move fluidly as you start to hum quietly to yourself and rinse off.

He wishes he could lie to himself, deny that he felt the blood rush straight to his cock at this little show he was watching. So content, so sweet, so vulnerable right now. Need consumes his every cell - the need to show you just how good you could have it here, to take every bit of you for himself. He grins, a hungry little twitch of his mouth, moving to shut the door when a floorboard creaks under his heavy boot, and he freezes, shuffling out of the way quickly.

You’re humming quietly when you hear it, just a distant sound, but enough to catch your ear. A creak of a floorboard, something you figure isn’t unusual for an old cabin like this, but you feel a shiver run down your spine and rush to turn the water off. You throw the curtain open, water dripping down into your eyes. You quickly rub your fingers over them and glance around the spacious bathroom to find… nothing. You sigh, shaking your head, nearly laughing at the relief you feel. You’re just being paranoid, you chastise yourself as you grab the towel off the hook, squeezing the extra water out of your hair and wrapping it around yourself, snuggling into the simple comfort of a fluffy towel as you dry yourself off. 

Your fingers freeze, running cold when you reach the door, noticing a few inches of space that has the door cracked open. You swore up and down that you’d shut the door behind you, giving you that extra layer of privacy in a stranger's home. It wasn’t possible that… no, you think quickly, shaking your head again. You have to stop being so damn paranoid - your brain is just in survival mode still, looking for threats that aren’t there. 

You step into the bedroom, surveying the heavy wood furniture - an extremely cozy, country feel to the room with large logs comprising the bed frame and a patchwork quilt draped over the top. You peer around, feeling somewhat squirmy at the realization you don’t have any clothing. Joel seemingly came in and took your dirty clothes while you were in the shower, failing to leave you anything clean. It made you feel that strange swirl deep in your stomach again, the one you kept brushing off.

This is a kind man. A kind man, got it? Positive thinking.

You decide to pull it together and head out and down the stairs to the living room. You feel your cheeks heat up, a hot heat creeping all over your body as you feel so exposed, standing in your tiny towel as you descend the stairs. Joel’s eyes follow you down, watching your glowing skin, so fresh and clean, hair dripping errantly, leaving water droplets on the floor in your wake. You see a flash of something a little cloudy and hungry in his gaze before it disappears just as quickly as he showed it. 

He isn’t saying a word, isn’t offering anything, so you swallow down your discomfort and clear your throat a little. “Er… I noticed there weren’t any… clothes… for me…”

Joel sits up a little straighter, putting down the book he’s been looking at. He offers you a smile devoid of much emotion and stands up, his eyes locking on your hips for a few extra seconds. “Shucks, sorry about that, sweetheart. Let’s get you something right now. Got your old clothes ready to be done next time I do the washin’.”

You nod, fighting the urge to chuckle nervously as he walks over and passes you, his arm brushing your damp, bare one before he heads up the stairs. You’re grateful you get to trail him, afraid of just how skimpy this towel is if he’d have insisted on following behind you. You follow him into the other bedroom, his bedroom, and it’s a little more decorated, some books and little wooden carvings on the surfaces, dirty laundry scattered throughout. He opens up a drawer and tugs out a tee shirt, handing it to you, then a pair of gray sweatpants and warm, thick socks. 

“These should fit alright for ya, honey. We’ll get you some more proper fittin’ stuff soon, just gotta have a look around this place. This’ll be nice and warm for ya f’now.” He seems more chipper now, clearly much more talkative than before, and you suppose you don’t mind the change too much. It’s only proving that your paranoia was completely unfounded, just a symptom of your current circumstances. You typically find yourself a pretty trusting person, enough to have gotten you in trouble before, but the events of the last few weeks have broken that for you, leaving you feeling like a shell of who you once were. 

You snap back to reality and take the clothing in your arms, nodding in gratitude. “Thank you. I’ll go, um, change.”

Before you turn, Joel’s voice booms through the air again. “Need anythin’ else to eat? Anythin’ I can get you?” He almost sounds hopeful, like he wants you to need something from him. His eyes linger on your body, leaving you feeling just as naked as if you didn’t have the towel over you at all. 

You shake your head nervously. “Er, if it’s alright with you, I think I just want to rest… A full night’s sleep in a bed sounds like heaven right now.” 

“Let’s get you on off to heaven, then.” He grins, letting you leave the room before trailing after you, waiting outside your door while you change into your clothes. You discover some women’s underwear in the drawers inside of your bedroom, gratefully putting on a clean pair before throwing on everything Joel gave you. It’s comfortable and dry, so you won’t complain about the fit or the style - you’d still be in your dirty, worn down clothes if it weren’t for him. 

You creak the door open to find Joel and thank him again for hosting you, only to see him waiting right outside in the hall. You nearly jump, your face completely giving away your tense surprise.

“Jus’ wanted to make sure you got to bed alright,” he says gently, explaining himself. 

“Oh…” You bite your lip. “I, uh, I think I’m all set. Thank you again, Joel, really, for everything.”

His smile brightens as much as you’ve seen it and his eyes look much kinder as he nods, a dip of his head. His hand reaches forward and takes yours through the frame of the door and squeezes it. You freeze at the sudden touch, his hand so warm and rough, calloused fingertips grazing over the softer skin of your hands. It sends your entire body into a fuzzy flash of heat for just a moment before it dissipates. He squeezes once more, thumb swiping gently over the back of your hand before he releases it. Your lips sit parted in shock, eyes a little wider and hand starting to tremble a little. 

“Anytime,” Joel replies simply, his face falling before he turns to walk away, leaving you standing breathless for several moments before clicking the bedroom door shut behind you. 

You jolt out of your sleep, a gasp of breath catching in your throat and dying out as you go to yell, finding your mouth tightly clasped by a large, warm palm pressing in.

“Shh, shh,” the voice comes, right near your right ear. You shudder involuntarily from the hot breath fanning on such a sensitive spot  and try to yell again, letting it die out as a whimper against the skin pressing on your mouth.

“Shh, it’s alright. I got you,” Joel coos, his voice coming out hoarse. “No yellin’.”

You squirm helplessly against his hold, realizing another arm is draped across your abdomen, holding you in place. Your body exhausts quickly, still half asleep as you feel your struggle die out. Joel’s hand across your mouth loosens slowly, relieving the pressure.

“You were havin’ a nightmare, darlin’. Shh… c’mon now…” His hand that had been against your lips ghosts up to your head, landing in gentle strokes against your hair. You blink a few times, heavy breaths through your nostrils now as you try to steady your mind and body. Your chest struggles against his heavy arm as it heaves, your body fully taut and mind trying to play catch up.

“W-what…” you murmur groggily, laying stiffly as Joel holds your waist, fingers brushing against your curves, pressing you close as his other hand still works tender strokes along your hair.

“Oh, sweetheart, glad I heard you, hm?” he practically whispers, his face nuzzling close to the skin right under your ear. You feel the tickle of his breath and facial fair, prickly and rough against such delicate skin. You squirm gently, trying to signal that everything is too tight, too much, too… confusing. Joel is lost in his own world, absorbed in the softness of the places he begins to touch, hand grazing from your waist to your bare arms, fingertips exploring hungrily under the guise of being caring. 

All he’d needed, alone and laying awake tonight, his body burning and resolve thin, was a simple touch. A chance to show you all that you needed, all he could provide for you. Only to help you, to take care of someone who couldn’t care for herself. You’d proved that much to him - you needed his guidance, his protection, his experience.

“What’re you…”

“Jus’ comforting you, darlin’. C’mon now,” he whispers, never once pulling back or stopping the exploring he’s doing with his hands. 

He runs through his list of reasons to convince himself why everything he’s doing is perfectly necessary before losing sight of all of it entirely when he strikes that sliver of bare skin where your tee shirt has hiked up a bit off your waist, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. His hand travels a bit higher, pushing the shirt up and grazing famished fingers across your ribcage and stomach. A small groan ripples across his chest, the vibration felt by where your body meets his. He surprises you next by tugging your shirt back down, covering the bare skin before returning his hand to your hip, pulling you closer. He’s a wall of pure mass, muscle underneath his soft belly and chest, a man who’s strong but still showing a bit of his age. You nearly whimper and shake, feeling a sickly heat coursing through your veins now.

“Mmm…” he mumbles in your ear, your own voice caught in a trap of fear lodged right in your throat. Equally afraid of the way you don’t know how this night is about to end and that you’re not sure you mind where it’s going. You’ve never understood men or their intentions, and never had anyone bother to teach you, no worked up teenage boys offer to show you when you were at that age. No, you were left to guess, giggled at by other girls when you couldn’t pick up on their meanings as they discussed their own secret rendezvous. This had to be everything they talked about, didn’t it? The way you could feel heat and energy practically pulsating off of Joel’s body, his noises anything but natural sounding as he hummed little groans in your ear.

“Y’just needed someone, sweetheart. Y’need someone to take care of you, don’t you?” he finally says, fingers still running their way across your hair, nails scratching against your scalp. You whimper quietly at the feel of it, how damn good it all feels. You don’t move, don’t speak as he goes on.

“Need a man like me, darlin’, y’do. I can see it - need me to take care of everything…” He mumbles similar sentiments repeatedly in your ear before bringing his lips right to your neck, just letting them graze, the wet but chapped skin of his lips pressing in gently on your pulse point. You try not to gasp, the feeling as pleasing as it is terrifying, finding yourself gripping the sheet tighter to try not to give yourself away, give him any kind of response. 

“Don’t you, honey? Need me to take care of you?” He sounds a little more desperate now, needy for the answer he’s searching for from you.

He’s broken you down to the point you feel tears stinging at your eyes, the long awaited emotional release you’ve needed sitting right there on the precipice, a small crack waiting to fully rupture. You can’t be sure if you nod, just imperceptibly, you think, but Joel’s body language relaxes against you as he leans his entire chest and torso into you even more, giving you a squeeze. You know then that he got his answer, just what he was looking for. You let the tears slip out, rolling down your cheeks, onto the pillow on one side, likely falling right onto Joel’s face or in his hair on the other. He seems to barely notice, just swiping them quickly off your cheeks before resuming his position wrapping himself tightly around you.

“Good, sweetheart… good girl, I got you…” 

You hear his breathing start to even out shortly after, steady rise and fall of his chest against your body, and you realize he’s dozed off. Like he got what he wanted and decided he could rest now. Your entire body relaxes, a careful breath whooshing out that you hadn’t even been aware you were holding in. His hand is still tangled in your hair, other one possessively on your hip, giving you absolutely no room to move. You’re not sure you want to anymore, anyways, never having had such strength covering you, cloaking you from all of the dark, sinister things that the nighttime holds for you.

If you’re going insane, feeling safe with this man who forced his way around your body tonight, then so be it. Why shouldn’t you let yourself feel safe for once? Let yourself feel less of that burden, turn it over to Joel? Your own turning wheel of thoughts starts to scare you, the little voice in the back of your head telling you what you already know and have been trying to ignore. The one little thing that you immediately put your finger on but were too scared afterwards to lift it back up and observe it closer.

You weren’t having a nightmare, no, not at all. You knew when you woke from one, as sure as the god damned sky was blue and the grass was green. It wasn’t a foreign concept to you by any means after what you’d been through in your life. And tonight… tonight hadn’t been one of those nights. 

dividers by @/saradika!

thank you @jupiter-soups and @huffle-punk for always beta-ing my shit and talking inspo with me. love you to the moon and back <3

[sabrondabrainrot]

Bring back LAES!

I'm steadily making progress on catching up on sun and moon show along with foxy and monty etc etc but it's pretty difficult when one of the main key plot lines is gone. I know a few spoilers thanks to fanfiction but I want to see the drama in person.

Here's some outfit ideas for tsams cause I'm a sucker for fashion and redesigns!

Order is, SolarFlare - Lunar - NewMoon - Old Moon - Sunny (Solar's dimension) - Sun

closeups and more brainrot under the cut!

Explaining my redesigns! Lunar - he's not really a redesign and more so an overdesign. I love adding tons of little details to him to really hammer home his star-ness. He's such an interesting little guy, like yes he acts childish but I can see he's really growing (SAD I CANT WATCH MORE CAUSE THE SHOW IS GONE). I saw the ep he killed Eclipse and homeboy revived. The entire time I was like "Waaahh Lunar??? Waaahhh???" but I love the drama ngl.

SolarFlare - Same as Lunar, not really a redesign I just drew him with no dirt. I really love his base design it's so neat it makes me think of like sci-fi concepts from the 80's. Something from fallout really. I think it's kind of funny Eclipse's aesthetics for SolarFlare when you compare him next to say Jack who Solar designed.

OldMoon - I just wanted to give him a sleek mad scientist cool guy suave vibe. I saw the more recent thumbnails of him with a turtle neck and idk that's just peak character design for me. I'm a simple woman put the dumb-dumb in a dark turtleneck. I want him to kind of look like the BadGuy TM (he's not actually) so he gets all edgy and hard edges and stuff.

NewMoon - I wanted to do a similar color scheme but instead he has lighter colors like more white incorporated into his fit. To give him the whole 'reborn' aesthetic. He's all like "old moon wore black well I wear white now I'm nothing like him so hah!" kinda thinking. I gave his cap a fur texture cause of that one ep he turned into a furry. I drew rounder stuff on him cause he's a big ol' softy sweety pie.

Sunny - Sunny is my headcanon of Sun from Solar's dimension. I think it's really interesting his default with no personality was theater performance and not say...doing daycare stuff? I feel like honoring the FNAF books with this design by leaning heavily into the theater performer look. I like to think in Solar's dimension Sun and Moon were originally made for theater. (so far in the show I've noticed Creator says 'they needed a daycare attendant' something like that so it comes off more like they were intended for the daycare from the start VS. Solar's dimension where Sunny's core seems to be more so for the performing arts.) I also wanted to make Sunny look different from Sun for the extra angst potential of "They're similar but not the same" so I leaned more into a blue palette for him.

Sun - I just wanted to give him big puffy everything. I took away the tutu. nothing against the tutu I just hate drawing the damn thing. I like to think Sun in main has white eyes because he's so burnt out from within. *badum tish* (eyes are the window to the soul-) I also covered him in stickers because he totally would just be covered in stickers from the kids. I also decided to give some of his rays cracks because I think he's extremely sentimental and even in a newly upgraded body (after using star power to defeat Eclipse the first time) he'd keep rays from his original body? I also put the cracks ones on the side of his face where Old Moon hit him. Why? Because it just seems like something Sun would do. I love him so.

Ok just some brainrot stuff, look away to avoid spoilers .

RUIN DESTROYED HOW MANY DIMENSIONS?? SOLARS DEAD. LUNAR KILLED ECLIPSE. DARK SUN IS PLOTTING??? MOON BE CRYING??? Also Francine just had a birthday! ONE OF THE BLOODMOON BOYS ARE DEAD AND SAME WITH ONE OF THE STITCHY BOYS??? HELLO?!?

I love the drama.

Also, I love how every single kid vibe checks Sun and he passes every time. Francine? She loves Sun and learns from him. FC? He ONLY feels safe with Sun for a bit. Barry? He hugged Sun after gonad checking him (a right of passage for the bunny kid). Jack? I'm pretty sure he literally is just one room away from Sun at all times (he also calls Sun's cats his master???). I have yet to see Dazzle, but Dazzle 10000% loves Sun (I've seen the edits).

ALSO? When Lunar was first brought into the family the first person he hugged was Sun and then later on when Earth was in danger he ran into SUN's arms for safety/comfort. They're family your honor.

Sobbing and Crying laying on the floor over Solar's death but I think he'll be back.

Also the molten thing with Ruin? I'm excited to see more.

I don't have a youtube account to post about saving LAES but if anyone wants me to draw more LAES just to help the community please let me know. I'm planning to draw my idea of Earth next.

[bugsmunched]

"My Slut" - Derek Danforth X Reader

ASKS ARE OPEN, IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS PLEASE ASK!!

Summary: A jealous Derek confronts Y/N, one of his mother's employees, about flirting with a bunch of guys at a party when they were supposed to be there to keep him in line.

A/N: This was a little rushed ngl, but I did my best My Jhutch hyperfixation is coming back. So expect more fics, and please remember if you have any ideas please share!

Contents: GN! Reader, drug usage, smoking, drinking, plot? What plot, filthy smut, Dom! Derek, degradation, use of 'slut' and 'bitch', choking, spitting, impact play, face fucking, spoiled brat Derek, no mentions of readers' genitals, hate fucking, no prep, no protection (wrap that shit), dumbification, possessive Derek, jealous Derek

Word Count: 2750

SMUT UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI!!

"I'm not your property, Danforth." you spat, venom lacing your words as you stared at him in a cold, annoyed manner.

"Aren't you?" he asked, raising a brow and looking at you with all the arrogance in the world.

God, he was SO annoying. You couldn't believe the audacity of this sociopathic con artist. "No Derek, contrary to popular belief, I don't fucking belong to you. I don't even work for you remember? Your mother hired me. " You hissed, placing the glass of bourbon that was in your hand onto the table in front of you.

"Well I don't think my mother hired you to flirt with a bunch of men like a little whore now did she?" He asked, taking a long drag of the joint that rested in his hand.

"She hired me to keep an eye on you, Derek. I'm a glorified babysitter, I might as well have a little bit of fun whilst trying to keep you sober. "

"Yeah you don't exactly do a good job of that, now do you? I wonder if my mother knew how poor of a job you were doing. "

"You threatening my job? " You snorted, rolling your eyes in amusement. "You're threatening my job just because I flirted with a couple of guys, how mature of you Danforth. "

"just flirted with a couple of guys?" He asked, raising a brow in amusement. "Honey-"

"Don't." You warned him, not wanting to hear the sickening nickname fall out of his mouth.

"Don't fucking interrupt me, slut. " He growled, his eyes narrowing with anger. " As I was saying before you opened your disgusting mouth- Honey, I don't think palming a guy in the corner counts as 'just flirting.' And the entire party does not count as 'just a couple guys.' You're a slut, admit it. "

Your face turned a bright pink, you hadn't realized that he knew about that. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, the drinks had just hit and one guy kept eyeing you up and down. So, when you noticed that Derek was preoccupied by some other guy talking about crypto or some similar nonsense, you snuck off and made out with the guy in the corner. But you were so deprived, that you had begun palming him desperately like a highschooler at a dance. But before it could escalate to anything more, you heard Derek calling you away, unaware that he had been watching you the entire time, seething with anger.

"I'm not a slut, Derek. If anyone's the slut it's you. You're the one who's hooking up with someone new every time I turn my head. " That really got him going. He placed the burnt-out joint in the ashtray in front of him and stood up, swiftly walking over to you, standing over you.

"You want to say that again?" He challenged, crouching down in front of you and meeting your gaze. When you didn't say anything, he growled and grabbed your chin. "What? Now you've finally decided to shut that big mouth of yours?" his grasp on your chin was harsh, yet his gaze was even harsher. Fire plagued his gaze, and his jaw clenched.

" Let go of me, you sociopath." You snapped, matching his energy.

"You can't talk to me like that. " He huffed, his grip on your chin tightening, leaving red marks on either side of your face.

"I can speak however I damn please, you don't control my paychecks."

"Someone needs to show you how to fucking respect others. " He said as he let go of your face. You rubbed the sore sides of your face, looking up at him with a scowl.

"Someone needs to teach you how to not be such a spoiled brat, you useless fucking-"

Your harsh words were cut off as his hand found itself wrapped around your throat. "shut up." he growled, squeezing the sides of your throat. Your face turned a bright red as you fought back a whimper from the feeling. When you stopped speaking, he smirked, clearly satisfied with the results of his actions. "That's all it takes to shut you up, huh? All the little slut needed was a hand around their throat?" he cooed, squeezing a little harsher.

You tried to speak, but your brain was a little bit fuzzy from the feeling of having a strong hand wrapped around your throat like that. You felt so stupid, so vulnerable, to have been so thrown off by that.

"You really are nothing but a slut, and I don't like that. I can't stand seeing you flirt with other men. You see, I don't have a problem with the fact that you are a slut, I have a problem with the fact that you're not my slut. " He said as malice laced his words.

You gave a little bit of a whine, looking up at him with desperation in your eyes. Your cocky demeanor had completely faded away, as it had changed into something new, something far more desperate and needy. Maybe he was right, maybe you were a slut...and maybe you should be his.

"C'mon baby, say something." he cooed, loosening his grip on your throat for a moment so you could speak. But you were absolutely star-struck at the moment, at a complete loss for words. When you didn't speak, a hand harshly landed a blow across your face, leaving a bright red mark. "I said say something. That wasn't a request, you dumb fuck. "

"Make me- make me yours. " You managed to stutter out, the smack he left on your cheek causing it to sting.

"Oh look, you can speak after all! The dumb slut can speak." He said with feigned amusement in his voice. "And they know their place. " He purred softly as he let go of your throat completely, standing up from his crouched position. " On your knees. And don't make me repeat myself again." He commanded.

You slipped off the couch and fell to your knees in front of him, looking up at him with pitiful, desperate eyes. What was happening to you? As soon as you were on your knees, his pants and boxers were around his ankles, belt resting in his hands, and his surprisingly girthy and pierced cock sprung free, half-hard already from the attention he was giving you. A hand harshly gripped at your hair and tugged you close to him, looping the belt around your neck and pulling it tight, much like a leash.

In one hand he held the belt that was wrapped around your neck, in the other he held his half-hard cock, stroking over the Jacob's ladder piercings. After a few moments, his cock stood at attention, a bead a precum leaking from the tip. He pulled you close via the belt, pushing his leaking tip against your lips. His other hand cupped your cheek, stroking it gently. "Open. " He commanded, and you quickly obeyed.

You parted your lips, which were now glistening with his pre-cum, as he pushed his dick into your mouth. He wasted no time in tugging on the belt, which forced you to take more of him down your throat. The balls of his piercings rubbed strangely against the walls of your throat, but you welcomed the new sensation.

Soon enough, he had forced himself all the way down your throat, balls pressed against your chin. "You really are a slut, huh?" he asked in amusement, amazed at how easily you took him down your throat. "Have you been sucking dicks behind my back? huh?" he asked as he spat on your face, it sliding down, coating your eyelashes in the process. You shook your head, trying to say something in protest, but that just caused you to gag on his cock, spit bubbling from your own mouth and dripping down your chin. It slipped off of your chin and dripped onto the floor. "You're cleaning that up later, fucking bitch. " He remarked, smacking your face lightly.

After a few moments of forcing your nose into the base of his cock, he pulled his hips away, leaving you panting with spit dripping down your face. After giving you a second to breathe, he smirked before slamming back into your mouth, holding the belt tightly in his hand as he began to roughly thrust in and out. His tip kept hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag, which caused more spit to drip down your chin and pool on the floor.

"Fucking bitch, making such a mess." He growled, spitting on your face once again, his hand that was resting on your face going up to your hair, tangling itself in the strands roughly.

He loved the sight below him; you drooling and spitting all over his cock as his spit dripped down your face, his cock pumping in and out of your throat. The sight alone was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he wasn't anywhere near done with you.

Once again he pushed you all the way down his shaft, shoving your nose into the base of his cock. "Choke on it you dumb slut. " he growled softly, watching as you tried to breathe, which caused you to start choking on his dick, more spit bubbling on the corners of your mouth. Once he was satisfied with the mess you made on the floor beneath you, he pushed your head away, leaving you a panting mess once again.

"Looks like we finally found a use for that mouth that isn't bitching and whining, isn't that right, honey?" He cooed, using the belt that was wrapped around your neck to pull you off of the ground, his spare hand resting on your side. " answer me." he growled, his eyes filled with a dangerous lust.

"Y-yes sir." you managed to stutter out, the name for him falling out of your lips far easier than you would like to admit. he smirked at the nickname, his cock twitching in satisfaction.

"Call me that again." He purred softly, the hand resting on your side making its way to your clothes ass, gripping at it harshly.

"S-sir."

He smacked your ass, "Again." he commanded.

"Sir!" You yelped out, whining at the light sting on your clothed ass, imagining how much more that would sting if you were unclothed.

"Good job, slut. Now, undress and bend yourself over that table over there. " He said, pointing to a table that held alcohol and other drugs over in the corner.

You quickly obliged as he let go of the belt. You practically tore off your clothes, rushing over to the table and bending yourself over it, biting your lip. You scolded yourself for being so excited to fuck Derek Danforth, someone that you were hired to keep from fucking random people and doing drugs.

He sauntered his way over to you and pushed your face harshly into the table, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. "Fuck, look at you, so eager for me to fuck you. Your boss' son, bending you over the desk and dicking you down, it's kind of pathetic, really. " He remarked, smacking your ass a few times till both cheeks were bright pink. The smacks caused you to mewl in pleasure, back arching against him slightly.

After prodding your entrance with the swollen and ripping head of his cock, he finally pushed past the barrier and sheathed himself inside of you. He didn't try and go slow, he just shoved himself deep inside of you as quick as he could, a groan escaping his lips. The lack of prep caused the stretch to burn your hole, making you wince and take a few deep, sharp breaths. You weren't used to being so full.

But before you could get used to the feel of being stretched out, he pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back in, causing your body to jolt forward, eyes rolling back slightly at the rough thrust. He repeated that rough thrust a few times, one hand resting on your hip, the other shoving your face into the desk. The harsh thrusts drew long, high pitched whines and moans from your mouth, hands gripping at the table harshly, nails digging into the wood.

"ah-ah! Slo-slow down!" You whined out, your pleading being muffled by the table. He smirked at your pleading, hips speeding up, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the air.

"I don't think I will. " He spoke in an arrogant tone, continuing to thrust his hips forward, burying his cock inside of you. A few moans fell from his lips, the grip on your hip tightening, he was sure to leave a few bruises.

" fu-fuck you." You spat, wincing as a hand collided with your ass harshly once again, a shiver being sent up your spine.

"Watch your fucking tone with me. " He growled softly, continuing to harshly piston his hips into you. His nails dug into your flesh lightly, leaving marks. "you're my little slut, aren't you?" He purred softly.

You moaned in response which caused him to smack your ass once again. " Say it. Say that you're my little slut. Tell me that you're sorry for flirting with other men. "

You opened your mouth to talk, but no words came out, your brain fuzzy from the feeling of being fucked like an animal. "oh, is the poor slut already fucked stupid? You're in for a long night, poor baby. " He mocked you, giving a particularly harsh thrust which caused you to cry out in pleasure. He stilled his hips for a moment, laying a harsh slap to your ass. "Still, I need to hear the words...say that you're my little slut. " He hummed softly, massaging the fat of your ass between his fingers.

"I-I'm yours..."

"You're my what?" he cooed, grinding his hips into you, which caused a long, drawn-out whine to fall from your lips.

"your little slut.."

"C'mon, use all your words..."

"I'm your little slut."

"I'm your little slut - what?" he mocked you, prompting you.

"si-sir. "

"Good job, bitch." He growled as he started up his thrusting once again, pulling nearly all the way out just before slamming right back into your tight hole harshly.

Foul, lewd sounds fell out of both of your lips, Derek's head rolling back slightly as he fucked into you like you were his personal fleshlight. He groped your ass, his nails leaving red marks as he marked his territory. He wanted to make sure that people knew you were his little slut, that you belonged to him. You were his little toy and he was your owner. He leaned forward and started leaving love bites on your neck, both in a way to mark you as his and a way to muffle his moans, which were slowly turning into whimpers as he got closer to his climax.

You, meanwhile, were already in a state of fucked out bliss, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you felt that knot in your stomach tighten. Your knees were becoming weak, and your entire body felt like it was on fire. You tried to warn Derek that you were about to cum, but you couldn't talk, so all you did was whine and smack at the table with your hand, arching your back to make him go deeper.

However, he was lost in his own pleasure and neglected to recognize the signs of you getting close, his thrusts quickening due to his own desperation for a release. After a few more thrusts, you yelped, a few tears rolling down your cheek as you came undone, but he barely even noticed, his growls turning into high-pitched whines as his hips stuttered.

You whined, feeling overstimulated, but soon enough he was coming undone inside of you. Thick ropes began to paint your insides, causing you to whimper at the feeling of being so full. He pulled out, which caused you to gasp at the sudden lack of something being stuffed inside your desperate hole.

He stood up straight and looked at you for a moment before realizing that you had made a mess of your own. He smacked your ass harshly, which caused you to whine out. "Dumb slut, you didn't ask for permission. Looks like... you're going to have to be punished." He murmured. You looked back and realized that he had already gotten hard once again. You were in for a long night.

[bonefall]

do you have any tips for writing a low empathy character who isn't evil? Or how to make an interesting apathetic character who's a thoughtless sort of evil? These are two different chatacters btw-

I tried looking up examples and stuff but uh. It's been a bit fruitless.

Honestly it's not too hard! Having low empathy just means we're bad at automatically "connecting" to the feelings of other people. You can come to understand it's not even a character flaw once you uncouple the idea that Empathy = Kindness. And apathy, well, that one's a bit more complicated imo.

Low Empathy

In English, it's just unfortunately super common to conflate Empathy and Compassion. To have compassion is to be aware of the suffering of another person, and ergo, want to help stop it. To be empathetic is to identify with and understand the feelings of another person. These are different things.

For an example in action; imagine a medic with a patient whose shoulder is dislocated, and xey'll need to pop that arm back in place in order for the patient to feel better.

A medic feeling EMPATHY for that patient is having an emotional response to what xey're seeing. Xey might have a tingly "ghost pain" thinking about the injury, and xey might feel guilty xey're going to put them in more agony, but also joy because this patient is going to feel much better in just a moment.

A medic feeling COMPASSION for that patient is thinking about how the shoulder must be causing a lot of pain, and knows xey have the skill to fix it. Xey know from xeir own experience that pain sucks and so it is a bad thing that needs to go away. It will hurt a little more for a moment, but then there will be immediate relief.

This is imo, why a lot of low empathy people are "bad at" comforting people without going to Autism College where they give you the scripts of Shit Neurotypicals Say. We're not trying to be selfish when we end up making "comfort sessions" about ourselves-- that's what we think empathy is, because we don't have a lot of it to really know what you want.

Like, doesn't it make sense to you? "I don't know what you're feeling. Here's a similar situation I've been though. I must know what you're feeling-- does that make you feel better? That you aren't alone? I think that's what empathy is, am I right?"

A LOT of low empathy people go into medical fields, the funeral industry, and disaster relief. We often really do want to help people so seek these fields out, or when we get there, just end up not getting burnt out like our high-empathy peers!

Apathy

As for the apathetic character, honestly, I'd suggest thinking about your story's themes. Villains are very special to me and I always try to handle them with care. What are you trying to say is bad to not care about in your work? How does their apathy play into the story you're trying to tell?

A Captain Planet villain is completely selfish, and exists only to benefit itself by exploiting nature in some way. Then the Planeteers show up and punch it in the face. Boiled down to its barest, most simple essentials; "We have conflicting goals and so I will stop you."

Personally I find total apathy to be something not especially compelling in villains, for that reason. Like, if you really don't care about anything, why bother with the trouble of going against the protag? Motivation is meant to be MOTIVATING.

(also ngl I'm on the Shadow As A Hero sort of bandwagon where I find it much funnier for the simple apathetic cool edgy guy to be the funniest person on your tennis team)

Dungeon Meshi has TWO characters who struggle with apathy, and are both antagonists at some points in the story, but never villains. Shuro and Mithrun. The theme of Dungeon Meshi is the beauty and complexity of life, the value of living, and how our connections to others changes the people we are. Food is a metaphor for bonding, self-care, and understanding.

For Shuro, he begins the story as someone who's both been encouraged to bottle up his emotions for the sake of other people, as well as to not actually consider the emotions of those lower-born than him. He's from a very different place than the other members of his party, and this causes friction as class, culture, and sophisticated, refined, weapons-grade autism clashes.

When the woman he loves is eaten by a dragon, he doesn't stop to tell her brother and """childhood friend""" what he's planning, as if they both wouldn't run in and get hurt. He owns demi-humans. He doesn't consider his own needs or the needs of his rescue team of loyal vassals. As a result, he's too weak to continue, losing a fistfight with one of the main characters, Laios.

After this, he connects with him for the very first time, and reaches out to him by giving him an important magic item. There's even a MASSIVE moment where he outright tells Laios that his ability to be so open (read: not have to mask his autism) is something he envies, breaking through that veil of apathy he wears.

The story Dungeon Meshi is telling here is that it is important to value the needs of yourself and of others. Shuro's apathy towards his own needs in a bid to prove his love weakened him. In acting like he was above his old teammates, he never spoke to them like people to smooth out his issues. He's never even noticed how much his vassals love and care for him.

(and the incredible irony is not lost on me, that Shuro's name is because Laios mispronounced it and was never corrected... while Shuro never noticed that Izutsumi had the unwanted name "Asebi" forced onto her when she was "taken in" and made his slave.)

See how that comes back to the theme? Shuro doesn't exist to just "be some asshole" or act like a villain. He has a full character arc that contributes to the narrative.

For Mithrun? I won't even spoil it. Go read Dungeon Meshi. Watch elf depression. We love a king with strabismus.

Anyway,

If you ever need good personal resources on any stigmatized mental condition, I've found it's usually productive to go into the #Actually (Thing) tag here on Tumblr. You can find people posting about basically anything. I found a lot of really good resources on NPD that way.

[py-dreamer]

...um...hi?

so if anyone's concerned, no I'm not dead.

Thankfully the digital studio is intact this year (thank god I would've had another mental breakdown istg-)

to all my lovely marshiemallows, thank y'all so much for your patience omg!!!!

(and to all my mutuals, @furornocturna and @violetjedisylveon in particular I'm so sorry I haven't been responding or active online at all, I'm so sorry-)

But to sum it up:

I'm on holiday in my home country rn and have been having a blast personally. Meeting relatives, childhood friends, the food, familiar places ect.

and I'll admit I do have a lot of free time outside that but honestly I do feel a wee bit burnt out ngl.

And with my spare time, I've jumped down the demon slayer rabbit hole

(huh who would've guessed)

Basically it's all been a huge break for me.

But I will still post lmk stuff dw. Though don't be surprised if you see a kny thingy pop up somewhere in the dreamscape!!

And for those curious about the fic:

I'm sorry I haven't updated at all, the wips are still in my drafts. I have no formal posting schedule but after returning and getting some work sorted out I'll see what I can do! But no promises!

Regardless, about the pic then.

It is a WIP. It's a sketch for a shadowalkers piece (Wooh! Haven't heard of that au in a while eh?)

I have redesigned mostly Bai He's outfit and added a little pouch for Macaca. The change was mostly so I had more freedom to do different top designs for the new members of the fam!

If anyone has suggestions for outfit designs or accessories or jewelery, hair, anything! let me know pls!

This is just the WIP stage and I really want to achieve that semi-wild, untamed but mysterious and refined gypsy look.

(Also its a guilty pleasure of mine to dress up my characters in aus or just for the fun of it lol)

And fun fact: Wukong's the only one in the fam wearing shoes lol.

Another fun fact: That brick pattern rag he's wearing? Was once a part of tripitaka's cassock from their days on the mountain. (see shadowalkers lore summary for context)

I didn't forget their tails this time! Wheeee!!

Oooh! Ooooh! Also the top half of Wukong's body? I did that myself sans references!!! Woooooooh!!!

Not that there's anything wrong with references of course. Pros and beginners use them and I do recommend them for poses, ideas and such.

Though I am proud I could think of something off like memory and make it work! I think...you can tell me otherwise lol

(BTW this is the after of the main plot where shadowpeach reconciles, they escape the town and Bai He gains a new stepbrother!)

SH!T I REALIZED I FORGOT MEI!!!!

UM I'LL ADD HER IN!! PROMISE!!!!

[bridgertonbabe]

I’m popping this here in case you get the urge

But the great Cluedo incident of ‘19…

I need to know what happened!!

BSSG Group Chat

Penelope: So other than all of that

Penelope: How did you enjoy your first game night @ Phillip @ Michael?

Michael:

Phillip: ⬆⬆⬆

Michael: To say I didn't enjoy a single second of last night would be an understatement

Simon: Yeah sounds about right.

Phillip: I can't lie.

Phillip: I did google how to go about getting a restraining order.

Penelope: Honestly Phil that's fair

Simon: I did the same thing after my first game night with them

Phillip: Did you actually go through with it?

Simon: I really was on the verge of it ngl

Simon: But alas, I knew it would be far more trouble than it's worth.

Simon: And besides I should have known what I was marrying into after my first game of pall mall 💀

Penelope: And look as much as we love you guys, if the events of last night were enough to scare you off we'd completely and whole-heartedly understand if you wanted to go NC with the rest of the fam.

Phillip: Just one question

Phillip: Is it just game nights and pall mall that sets them all off like that?

Michael: Yeah we really need to know now if they're triggered like that by anything else

Michael: Because if so...

Simon: It's only anything competitive that sets them all off in that way.

Simon: You have my word on that.

Penelope: ⬆⬆⬆

Penelope: Yes and they're particularly at their worst when they're playing as a family.

Penelope: They really know how to push each others buttons but none of them know when to draw the line

Michael: Yeah no shit

Michael: I managed to pick up on that last night when I was trying to put out an actual fucking fire

Simon: I do have to say that last night was an all time low

Simon: They really were all at their absolute worst

Simon: Even I didn't think they could collectively be that bad, especially after the Pictionary incident of '16

Phillip: I mean I guess it's somewhat of a relief to hear that last night wasn't just a bog standard Bridgerton game night

Phillip: Though from the way you guys are talking about it and now with the mentioned "Pictionary incident", it seems their game nights are always a cause for concern and never fun in general

Michael: Very that

Kate: What?!

Kate: What are you talking about?

Kate: Of course game nights are fun!

Penelope:

Simon: Kate

Simon: Are you actually insane

Kate: Just because last night got a little bit crazy doesn't mean game nights on the whole aren't fun!

Phillip: A little bit crazy????

Penelope: Kate multiple people had to go to hospital last night

Kate: Yeah and?

Kate: It's not like it's the first game night we've ended up in A&E

Michael:

Michael: What do you mean this isn't the first game night that you've ended up in A+E?????

Phillip: ⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆⬆

Phillip: ???????????????

Penelope: Kate 2 casualties as a result of a Bridgerton game night is to be expected but 9 is still nine more than any of us would like

Michael: 2 casualties...

Michael: 2 CASUALTIES IS TO BE EXPECTED?!?!?!?

Phillip: I

Kate: Omg Pen it wasn't 9 casualties

Kate: The doctors were just covering their arses with keeping most of them in over night

Kate: They were fine

Simon: They had smoke inhalation Kate

Michael: Your husband had his eyebrows burnt off

Penelope: Which is what happens when you and Anthony throw a tandem strop and set the kitchen alight

Kate: Objection!

Kate:

Kate: If you want to point the finger at who caused the fire then look no further than your wife @ Simon

Simon: First of all I wasn't pointing fingers

Simon: And secondly I was too busy trying to stem Greg's bleeding to notice the fire happening or who caused

Kate: Deflect all you want but your wife was the firestarter 🔥🔥🔥

Kate: The number of casualties was only so high because of her

Penelope: God I just hope Sophie's ok

Michael: Yeah ngl she's the only one I'm concerned for

Kate: I'm sure she's perfectly fine

Kate: Seriously you guys need to chill

Kate: I don't know why you're all being so negative about last night

Phillip: HYACINTH BOUGHT A FUCKING SWITCHBLADE TO A GAME NIGHT

Michael:

Kate: Omg why are you so mad?

Kate: It's not like she attacked you

Phillip: Oh and I should be so fucking grateful should I???

Phillip: That after attacking 3 others Anthony wrestled it off of her before she could get to me????

Michael: Who tf even let her have a switchblade in the first place???

Penelope: I did tell Colin he'd live to regret getting it for her

Phillip: And he got it for her because?!?!

Penelope: It was the one thing she asked him for when he was in Japan and he thought she just wanted it for ornamental reasons even though I explicitly warned him that definitely wasn't the case

Sophie sent a photo

Sophie sent a photo

Penelope: Omg Sophie!!!!

Penelope: 😍

Sophie: Everyone, meet Alexander 💙

Simon: Oh thank god, congrats Soph! x

Michael: Aw made up for you Soph, he's a right lil beauty! 😘

Phillip: Congrats Sophie 🤗

Penelope: He's so beautiful 🥰 how did it go?

Sophie: As smoothly as it could be considering he's 3 weeks early

Michael: I have to say Ben's rocking that eye patch

Sophie: I mean it's not exactly the get up I expected our son to meet his dad wearing but c'est la vie

Simon: How's Charlie finding being a big brother?

Sophie: I think he's more delighted with his dad looking like a pirate than with his baby brother tbh

Sophie: He very excitedly went to his dress up box and put on his pirate costume so he could be just like his daddy and refused to take it off when we were taking photos of him with Alex.

Sophie sent a photo

Penelope: Oh bless him he looks pleased as punch

Sophie: He couldn't hand Alex back to me fast enough so he could have a sword fight with Ben and make him walk the plank

Phillip: Btw just wanted to say Sophie that I'm really sorry that El accused you of faking your water breaking just to get out of the game.

Penelope: I'm sorry on Colin's behalf too Soph

Sophie: It's ok guys, I appreciate it and besides you were the ones who called the ambulance for me.

Simon: Unlike someone.

Michael: @ Kate

Kate: Omg Alex is absolutely gorgeous, congrats Soph! x

Simon: ...

Simon: Anything else you'd like to say?

Penelope: Yeah any apology to extend?

Kate: Ok ok ok

Kate: Sophie I know I didn't believe you were in labour and refused to call an ambulance

Kate: But from my side of things it just seemed really convenient that your contractions started just as you were losing

Michael: This isn't an apology???

Simon: Your newborn nephew isn't evidence enough that you were clearly in the wrong???

Kate: Ok fine I'm sorry for not calling an ambulance when you needed it Sophie!

Sophie: K.

Kate: But I will add, who's to say she didn't fake contractions and then get induced once she got to the hospital?

Sophie has left the chat.

Michael: Jesus fucking Christ

Simon has removed Kate from the chat.

Simon has added Sophie to the chat.

Simon: Don't worry I removed her.

Sophie: Thanks Simon x

Phillip: One more question.

Phillip: Did the Bridgertons corrupt Kate to be like that or was she god forbid like that anyway?

Penelope: Unfortunately Kate married in being equally as deranged as them in any competitive setting 😔

Michael:

Simon: Very that.

[atopvisenyashill]

Hiiiii what are your theories on what post-resurrection Jon with be like?

So I AM curious if he’s gonna be a bit more animalistic. I went back to look at Varamyr and I feel like Varamyr is a weirdo but he doesn’t act like an animal, despite spending a lot of time as an animal. Now you can contrast this to some of the Starklings who will do shit like growl and howl and stuff, and Jojen in fact warns against staying an animal for too long.

“Bran the boy and Summer the wolf. You are two, then?"

"Two," he sighed, "and one." He hated Jojen when he got stupid like this. At Winterfell he wanted me to dream my wolf dreams, and now that I know how he's always calling me back.

"Remember that, Bran. Remember yourself, or the wolf will consume you. When you join, it is not enough to run and hunt and howl in Summer's skin."

But the thing is - it’s Rickon Bran and Arya doing that. Bran & Arya are barely old enough to be self aware and Rickon is a literal toddler (I think all the Starklings refer to him as “the baby” not as in “the youngest” but as in he is TINY still). Jon is sixteen. I do wonder if he adjusts better simply because he’s older. But to flip back again…Varamyr is our only reference and Jojen explicitly warns against it. So will Jon have a temper? Will he growl, go nonverbal when emotional, like Rickon does? Will he howl at the moon like Bran and Arya? Will other people find him unsettling? Not in the “why is this grown man acting like a wolf” way but in that way that actual wolves are unsettling….you know the stories about how you KNOW if you’ve seen a wolf because they’re fuck off huge, they LOOK like predators, and your instincts tell you “this thing can kill me” in a way they don’t when you see a regular dog? What if he’s just unnerving to be around?

I do wonder about his physical look as well. Every person who ~comes back from the dead~ still bares the scars they got while dying. Beric & LSH’s injuries seem to healing human slow - that is to say, if they hadn’t received killing blows, Cat’s vocal chords would be healing at about the rate we see LSH start to regain speech, and Beric’s various cuts are scarring & healing at a normal rate. Bran is paralyzed. Drogo is…all of that. Will he face some issues with his body because the wounds are still healing? Will he have some more stiffness in his limbs, like the way his burnt hand has problems? I don’t really know how he would pick up the red eyes and white hair from ghost - Beric, LSH, Bran, even Drogo, they don’t suddenly change eye or hair color or something, and Brynden was BORN albino it’s not like his magic made him that way later - but I’m ngl I still kind of hope he’ll have the red eyes, I think it’s neat. He doesn’t need white hair tho I think that’s overkill.

When it comes to his priorities, I think we're going to see a huge shift. I know everyone ragged on the show for just having Jon be like "yeah i'm peacing out bye" bc there's going to be more hubbub than that but I do think Jon is going to feel incredibly jaded when it comes to the Night's Watch. I always come back to his confrontation with Maester Aemon and the fact that Aemon is distressed by his choice to not attempt to help Elia and her babies...

Maester Aemon sighed. “Have you heard nothing I’ve told you, Jon? Do you think you are the first?” He shook his ancient head, a gesture weary beyond words. “Three times the gods saw fit to test my vows. Once when I was a boy, once in the fullness of my manhood, and once when I had grown old. By then my strength was fled, my eyes grown dim, yet that last choice was as cruel as the first. My ravens would bring the news from the south, words darker than their wings, the ruin of my House, the death of my kin, disgrace and desolation. What could I have done, old, blind, frail? I was helpless as a suckling babe, yet still it grieved me to sit forgotten as they cut down my brother’s poor grandson, and his son, and even the little children …” Jon was shocked to see the shine of tears in the old man’s eyes. ...“Once. So you see, Jon, I do know … and knowing, I will not tell you stay or go. You must make that choice yourself, and live with it all the rest of your days. As I have.” His voice fell to a whisper. “As I have …”

There’s nothing he could have done and he knows it. AND YET. How do you justify to yourself hiding out at the Wall in safety while children of your house are slaughtered? How do you make your peace with it? You can’t! Love is the death of duty!! Aemon doesn’t ever make peace with it! He spends the last days of his life hating himself for being so old, being unable to help Dany, reaching out for the brother he’s long lost in his dreams. I think being murdered by his men, after months of arguing with them, of trying to get them to put aside their shitty little beef with the wildlings and focus on the real threats to their safety, and the knowledge that “Arya” is ALIVE OUT THERE, it’s all going to massively change his priorities. When you factor in the girl in gray turning out to be Sansa (don’t boo me i’m right!!)…I don’t think he’s going to hem and haw about being a brother of the night’s watch, I think he’s taking his shit, and he’s getting the fuck out of dodge.

But when it comes to his state of mind…again, I’ve come around to the idea that Jon is going to be resurrected 100% due to Northern type magic, and not anything Melisandre is doing. I’m willing to be wrong on this one btw, I do think there’s still a shot some funky magic brings him back but I think with all the build up to Jon actively warging, to accepting his magic, and opening his third eye, is in fact building up not just to Jon spending a long time in Ghost while his body is found and resurrected, but that his body will HEAL while he’s not in it the way Bran’s does, and he comes back to an injured but on the mend body.

If he’s waiting around for his body to heal though, he’s going to be spending a hot minute inside Ghost & greenseeing. Possibly longer than Bran did. I think like Bran, he’ll have his own mini vision quest as he wanders and sleeps in ghost’s body - and I think he’s going to find out Bran is still alive. See, Bran figures out that Robb is dead through a green dream, then buries the memory-

The dream he'd had . . . the dream Summer had had . . . No, I mustn't think about that dream. He had not even told the Reeds, though Meera at least seemed to sense that something was wrong. If he never talked of it maybe he could forget he ever dreamed it, and then it wouldn't have happened and Robb and Grey Wind would still be . . .

And we know Summer is aware of his scattered siblings, dwelling on them often. I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility that the connection works the other way. We also know Bran is still dwelling on his family, with his weirwood dreams focusing on Ned. Similar to Aemon, similar to Jon’s whole story, Bran struggles in balancing his love for his family with what he feels is his duty. Not only that but imo there’s a lot of connections between Jon and Bran when it comes to magic. Jon is the only character we see saying goodbye to Bran, which has always stuck out to me. Bran also attempts to open Jon’s third eye before Robb (presumably - i think if bran was talking to robb in his dream, he would have brought it up) Sansa, Arya, or Rickon (again, presumably).

It seemed to sprout from solid rock, its pale roots twisting up from a myriad of fissures and hairline cracks. The tree was slender compared to other weirwoods he had seen, no more than a sapling, yet it was growing as he watched, its limbs thickening as they reached for the sky. Wary, he circled the smooth white trunk until he came to the face. Red eyes looked at him. Fierce eyes they were, yet glad to see him. The weirwood had his brother's face. Had his brother always had three eyes?

Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow…. Don’t be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this. And the tree reached down and touched him.

And Bran has that near miss where he and Jon are in the same places at the same time, with Bran running into Sam & Gilly. Additionally, we get all those scenes with Mormont’s crow doing weird stuff and we have no idea if it’s Bloodraven or Bran - it’s very possible Bran At Some Point In Time has been trying to get Jon’s attention for a long time.

All of that to say I think there’s a build up to Jon and Bran being the first Starklings to reunite, but not in body, just in mind! While trapped in Ghost’s body greendreaming about his thought to be dead brother, Bran will have the opportunity to jumpstart Jon’s magic the way his was, and Jon will realize Bran is still alive - potentially even exchanging important information about the Others, Winterfell, and Jon’s real parents…Both boys return to their bodies, turn to the people they’ve sworn their lifetimes to and go “actually fuck this shit and fuck you too” and try to leave.

Try, being the operative word here, of course.

[toxictigertonic]

Okay. Here me out. I know I already asked for something and this i can't ask for anything ever again from you but please your magnificents I am but a poor little British boy asking for the crust of your bread:

WHAT IF THEY WERE HOSTING A BAKE SALE. WHAT IF.

Keep asking me things!! I love to yap!! My bread crusts are free, I shall even throw in some butter for them!!

A bake sale hosted by the prime assets for the reagents would be the most hectic, hilarious, and probably dangerous thing you've ever seen, and that's saying a lot. Where did they get the baking materials? Did anyone follow a recipe? Should you eat anything that Franco or Leland had a hand in creating? Who knows!

COYLE

- He cannot bake to save his life.

- It's both underbaked and overbaked at the same time. Outside's burnt to a cinder and the inside is still batter. Turn down the heat on your oven you fool.

- He'd either try to make something really simple, like oatmeal cookies, or he'd think he's a God at baking and try to make some shit like macarons or a soufflé.

- Kinda guy who thinks he can just fuck with the measurements and imgredients in a recipe and still have it come out the same. Also doubles his recipes and forgets to double the baking soda (I'm guilty of that ngl)

- The reagents would buy his baked goods just to use them as throwable items. Bricks are out, Coyle's homemade oatmeal rocks are in.

- Honestly I think he'd be good at making things taste good, he just can't bake them properly.

- As for being at the bake sale, he's immediately jealous of how good Phyllis' desserts look. They've got that homemade charm but still look amazing.

- Takes some comfort in seeing the mess Franco is serving up though.

- Would tell people that if they don't like the way his cookies are baked then they should make them themselves. I payed 2 tickets for these cookies I deserve to complain.

MOTHER GOOSEBERRY

- The QUEEN of the bake sale. Bow down to her.

- She spent an entire month planning and prepping for this bake sale, this has been the only thing on her mind for 4 goddamn weeks.

- Makes at least 5 or 6 different desserts, ranging from mini apple pies, to simple chocolate chip cookies, to actual perfectly made macarons. This woman is magic when it comes to baking.

- She even has cute little packaging for all of her baked goods. This woman went all out and you better appreciate her.

- Will offer you a sample if you don't know what something is, but if you say you don't like it you better be ready to answer to Futterman.

- Futterman is not allowed to advertise the baked goods. Mainly bc anyone who says they aren't interested is chased down. There's no more room underneath the table to hide unfortunate reagents.

- Besides, Phyllis is already amazing at advertising her own baked goods. Her personality makes people want to try her stuff immediately (and the table smells heavenly).

- By the end of the bake sale, her table is empty. Sold through everything and had people begging to order stuff from her. (There might be some angel dust in those cookies but don't tell her I told you that)

- Franco was not allowed to try any of her baked goods. Samples are only for paying customers, little man. He tried to snag one secretly many a time but he's almost gotten a drill to the hand as punishment.

- Coyle and Franco fight over who gets to lick the spoon when she's done mixing batter. Neither of them get it, Futterman gets the spoon.

FRANCO

- I want you to be honest now. Would you really eat anything he made? Would you trust his baking skills?

- Remember how I said he likes his cookies severely underbaked? That's what he's bringing to the bake sale. Just nearly raw cookie dough. And it's not even good cookie dough.

- I love him, you know I do, but he would not change spoons between taste testing the dough.

- Forgot about the bake sale until the day of and just threw something together so Phyllis wouldn't yell at him for not participating.

- The only way I'm trusting anything he makes is if Phyllis is supervising him. They can make thumbprint cookies together :)

- Honestly I'd probably just give him 50 dollars and let him buy things rather than allow him to sell things. Let him buy some cake pops.

- The reagents bully him for his shitty baking skills, and the poor guy had to hand Lupara off to Phyllis at the door. He's just gotta take it, or start a fist fight.

- He'd throw a mini tantrum anytime somebody bought from the other two. How DARE you not buy his cookies, he made them with love! And potentially teeth.

- Spends most of the bake sale trying to steal a single thing from Phyllis bc she won't let him have any samples. Hides under the table and keeps getting his hand slapped by her.

Keep sending in requests, art or headcanons I don't mind! It gives me something to do and I love any chance to draw or think of the sillies.

[prentissluvr]

omgg i completely forgot to ask but what were some of your sammy thoughts you had while you were on vacay?? 🤭

oh ngl i think i posted most of them lol

aCTUALLY WAIT NO I FORGOT i think i might turn this into a full set of headcanons but i'll give a little sneak peak hehehe

so basically i was on vacay and thinking about him the whole time because i have an unhealthy obsession with him and tendency to daydream about my muses 24/7 !!

basically i was at this shared family cabin up in canada! and it's super isolated and quiet and remote and surrounded by water! like you have to take a boat to get there etc etc hehe and i was just thinking all about what it would be like to go up there with sam and dean on a break from hunting!!

tw: lowkey mention of drowning lol

mostly you just swim in the lake that you're surrounded by and it's just so relaxing and lovely. if they don't already know, you teach them both how to drive a boat, and they're both quite good since it's not too hard.

and i imagined lots of swimming with both of them!! they'd both love it so much and spend just about all day in the water!! dean would refuse sunscreen and get burnt to a crisp LOL he also can't stop complaining about the bugs lmao.

i'm also thinking about night swimming with sammy aaaaa. it's like 99% soooo so so romantic. the water feels extra nice because the cooler air makes the water feel warmer by contrast. then you've got the stars, clear and bright in the night sky and the gorgeously big moon, dappling white light across the dark water. and of course there's sammy, keeping you close to him at all times, hands slipping over your body under the water, lips pressing to your forehead and mouth over and over again. if you're lucky you'll hear a loon too!! and it's the most hauntingly beautiful sounds that accompanies the light splash of water against the shore, the boat rocking against the dock, and the water swishing around you each time you move. AAAAA I NEED THIS SO BAD NOW and also the 1% is docked because there are so many fucking mosquitos at night so it's like :/// sucks so bad unless they're magically not bothering you lol.

and also! more swimming stuff! this would be cute for if you're not dating yet because like. hehe romantic tension. but the last day i was swimming i got a cramp in my foot KJSDFHS it hurt so bad and i would've literally (not literally i'm being dramatic) died if i didn't have that pool noodle on me LOL. anyways but like!! swimming out kind of far from the dock and then you get a foot cramp and are having trouble treading enough water to stay comfortably afloat. maybe you try to swim back but foot cramps hurt like a bitch! and sam and dean are just getting into the water and you're like "dean! please come save me i have a foot cramp lmao" because you have the hugest crush on sam and you feel to embarrassed to have SHIRTLESS HIM COME AND SWIM YOU TO SHORE LIKE ??????? anywaysss dean literally doesn't hear you because he's playing music from a speaker on the dock. but sam does and he's swims over to you in like two seconds flat and loops an arm around your waist and tells you to hang onto him and then brings you back to the dock, helps you out, and then makes you sit on the edge while he massaged the cramp away ??? and i'm dead??? because you were pulled flush up against him and his BARE CHEST ??? and you looped your arms around his BARE, WET NECK??? and he's holding your waist with his big big arm and big big hand and singlehandedly swimming the both of you back to shore?? and he's all worried for you and he's flustered from having you so close to him but he's more concerned about you. and you're flustered of course and he takes it as a little bit of fear from almost maybe drowning so he's being sooo gentle and caring and i'm going to throw up about him

anywayyyssss hahahahahhaha yeah! just other cute stuff like them being impressed by your boating skills or your yummy yummy cabin meals. sharing experiences with them from your childhood and other things that you only get there that they didn't know were so special to you before. but now they now, and they experienced it with you <33 and it's overall just really great bonding time, especially because there's no internet LOL (there technically is now sometimes but we ignore that unless necessary lol) anyways! and it's just so relaxing

it's also definitely an amazing place to be drunk, never done it myself but it seems so amazing and relaxing tbh so they would also really enjoy that!

other things would be early mornings with sam! waking up with the sun and sitting on the porch together, curled up with a blanket and hot cocoa to ward against the morning chill. you'd listen to bird calls and catch sight of beavers. you'd take him kayaking one morning and he's so big he might tip over the boat and fall in if he's not balanced enough LOL but it's the best time to see wildlife so he wants to go! you might see beavers and turtles or otters if you're really lucky! and ducks and loons and you can point out the eagle nest and tell him stories from past years. you prove to them that you can roast the best marshmallows when you build a fire a night and they both love coming to understand how the place works and seeing how comfortable you are in this little piece of home from your past.

OKAY YEAH MORE THAN I WAS TRYING TO WRITE BUT I HAD SOOO MANY THOUGHTS like i said i'll probably turn this into at least an official headcanon post someday because i love it too much!!! eNJOY BESTIE ILYSMMMM

[mazzystar24]

Thank you so much for being so kind and replying to my ask! I think I understand it a little better now and I do agree with some of it. There were really sweet moments between them that made me happy but OH how it hurt to see buck just standing outside the restaurant. Yeah he freaked out a little but even lou said it wasn't ok of tommy and he wouldn't have done that. His defenders should really look into that lol judging from his interviews, he is a buddie endgame shipper and I love that

I'm kinda used to people blaming everything on buck but it still sucks. If he "shoved tommy back in the closet", they also have to acknowledge the comment tommy made when eddie was there...thank goodness he was so oblivious

But I do blame the writers a little bit for making tommy seem so...distant? Mysterious? There's potential because he has a connection to their world but we don't know nearly enough about him. We know chim, hen and bobby were good with him when he left all those years ago but now? Show us!!

Most of all, I hope they are not "done" with buck's storyline because he deserves more. He was barely a side character for the remaining episodes and that made me really sad. Oliver looks happier again though, so maybe there's hope?

No problem ofc like as long as you’re respectful to me I’ll always give that back

UGHH YESSS ABT THE COMMENT AT THE DATE LIKE IF TOMMY WAS IN FACT OUT AND BUCK WAS PUSHING HIM IN THE CLOSET AS THEY CLAIM THEN TOMMYS LINE WOULD IN FACT BE OUTING HIM

Like personally I do take it as dig meant for buck only to understand - which brings its own fucking rage to me ngl but these toxic fans’ interpretation is somehow even worse for their fav

Me personally sorry but I’m kinda like just get rid of tommy atp and you know that but I totally get how you feel and would be disappointed in your place too

Also I totally agree and definitely hope that they really delve into and develop Buck’s bi arc further

I think they honestly kinda fumbled last season because of the shorter season and how much shit they tried to fit like I was saying this before but s8 should’ve been treated like s1/s2 where like you have some character building and like personal shit and then keep the rest fairly uncomplicated with like a few big things here and there and a strong sense of found family in it and hitting that balance of not overloading yourself while also keeping things interesting

Instead we kinda had boom big thing boom big thing boom here is an even more complicated big thing boom another big thing and it all felt very frazzled and all over the place and also really fragmented

And cos of all these big things you end up not able to give any one big thing the levity or development or the depth it can have

Leading to a mess of having buck pushed straight to the sidelines story wise after two eps of his bi arc then bobby having shit from Minnesota but also cartel and also house getting burnt down but also him being suicidal but also him nearly dying and us getting no scenes from the team at his bedside and then you have Eddie and his doppelgänger mess and chimney and his enciphillitus and it’s just all gives you a little bit of an overload without ever getting the pay off or the development

Like I love the show and love the writing for the most part but I gotta say s8 had a strong start that I thought it’d battle for my fav season but then it just started slipping when you could feel how limited in eps they were and also the writing style of not planning ahead for a lot of things

Idk if I explained any of that clearly 😭😭

[kaelidascope]

Chef kaeli you're back!!! So glad to see you around :) I hope you're doing well(aside from the major Arcane brainrot but still)

I just wanted to ask how MM is? You haven't updated in a while and ngl I'm starting to get a bit worried lol

Have a wonderful day/night!

I wouldn't say I'm back back or anything lol I'm still incredibly burnt out from previously mentioned events. I'm doing little things here and there because art is still a hobby, but I can't say when I'll come back to working on my projects.

I really honestly can't tell y'all what's gonna happen with MM right now. I don't want to make promises I don't end up keeping. I'm just taking a step back in general and focusing on recovering lost confidence

Thank you for checking though <3 and to everyone else who's reached out to me openly and privately. Tumblr doesn't let me react to messages without explicitly replying, but I have read every comment, dm, and ask sent in reference to what happened and I sincerely appreciate it 🙏🪷