#dont want to say anything specific since she will probably see this but . Man.

[lunar-fey]

did i mention yet that i got skerples to start watching cg a couple weeks ago? we're nearing the end of the first half :)

[patricia-taxxon]

re: your last ask about feeling threatened by transmascs, as someone who technically i guess counts as transmasc, im sorry that others similar to me have made you feel unsafe. im not the same anon im just scared to post publically since im also a poc and plural and i know theyd love to rip me a new one if i spoke in opposition to them lol. im seeing them in the notes already jumping to conclusions and saying you were "thinking before speaking" and crying infighting, but how come that is the first response to seeing a transfem express very general discomfort or fear, after publically and repeatedly facing abuse and mistreatment from transmascs? the same people who try to socially murder you every time they disagree with something you say are mad that you dont like being kicked down anymore and feel apprehensive to interact with them. genuinely some white guilt level of sensitivity going on. i dont feel safe around white transmascs either at this point. other transmascs reading this post i genuinely need you guys to examine WHY she (and other transfems, especially on this platform) does not feel safe instead of immediately feeling butthurt. "infighting" is not "i have a rational fear after experiencing firsthand relentless online harassment specifically by transmisogynistic transmascs", patricia is not saying that she hates them anywhere or is causing a divide by expressing her fear. the same way that cis women are not "infighting" with men when they express fear after being abused. the people who ARE infighting are the transmisogynistic transmascs, that is who you need to call out. assuming otherwise is completely missing the point, but i have low hopes for people on this platform to examine their gut responses and biases.

ending this on a nice note, i hope this wasnt out of line and i didnt say anything wrong, i just woke up and got really mad that someone baited you with that ask and now the exact transmascs youre afraid of are about to do it all again. whoever asked that wanted this response to probably make some gotcha. love your music and im wishing yall the best with your plurality 🙏

Thank you for the kind words, but I don't think I was baited. I was emboldened by close friends to speak up instead of just deleting the ask, and I've been further emboldened by both the negative and positive responses. The instant not-all-men-ism and telling me to get offline because misogyny doesn't exist in real life and immediate typecasting as an angry man-hating feminist in proper 2014 reddit fashion, it's sobering, I guess. It's nice to see others having that same sober response, though. I never know how to respond to these long asks that are just people voicing agreement.

[beddybites]

Tengen's wives often get pretty neglected by the Fandom. So, I wish to give them some love. All 3 of them, definitely, hold a lot of personal trauma, but especially around children. They would have probably been told that they must give birth to a lot of children for their future husband and were 100% taught how to be mothers, making them perfect to care for baby Obanai.

Suma specifically would take a lot of pride in doing that, as she would want to be a mother. Her being super invested into caring for him, as if he were her own child.

Makio and Hina, less so, but both always being willing to jump in and help.

They could possibly become best friends with Mitsuri through Obanai's situation and find other things they have in common.

i agree!

with the three growing up having it constantly drilled in their head they'll have to carry several children and be strong for their future husband i do think there's some underlying distress and frustration there, and i do wonder if it will help ease that pressure if they were able to help out with someone else's baby-- they didn't have to go through pregnancy or labor, it's not their baby to mother and raise-- they just get to help out and be an anchor of support

i also imagine tengen doesnt pressure them at all. he loves those women with his whole heart. if they expressed anything about not wanting to bare children, he would respect it. they could always adopt, he says. and if they do have kids-- he's not making them do all the work! that man would be a stay at home dad if he could!

i do agree that suma would be the one most eager to be a mother, whereas makio and hinatsuru less so, though they are of course willing to help, and im sure they love being around a baby

an interesting dynamic ive always believed is tengen's wives HATE obanai. they dont really understand him. they see him as hateful towards women and a cruel person toward their husband, though tengen tries to reassure them that isnt the case at all. having a deaged obanai around probably helps reassure them of that. they see how much tengen and obanai adore each other without the wall that obanai's built up, and understand that it's not that obanai hates women-- it's that he fears them

the baby is always crying around them and trying to hide in either sanegiyuu, tengen, or mitsuri-- whoever is holding him at the time. since the baby is scared, kaburamaru is all worked up and hissing and snapping at the girls. they slowly figure out babynai is scared of them, and over time, they gain his trust, and in turn, they recognize obanai truly isnt that bad-- he's just a damaged guy in need of care

so, whenever babynai is visiting or having to spend the night-- if tengen isnt absolutely doting over the little guy-- the girls help out when they can and, in turn, tengen helps them out. if the girls want to play with the baby for a bit, tengen is more than happy to step away and cook dinner or do the laundry

and to your point, ive always seen tengen's wives as being super close with shinobu and mitsuri, and i see that happening here! if we throw babybu into the mix, i just know those girls are FIGHTING over who gets to hold the baby. babybu loves all the girl time!!

slowly babybu and mitsuri are able to convince babynai to let the girls get him all dressed up. insert babynai with the cutest little bows. the girls cant decide if he should have pink or purple (they only have pink and purple because of miss nobu) but babynai wants to match with mitsuri so... pink it is!

[clownery-and-fuckery]

As promised, my commentary on Hunter.... to the people that like him, im sorry.

Spoiler warnings and the like, this is pretty negative aside from like maybe three sentences?? Feel free to leave you're own opinions on this too ofc !!! >:)

I dont like Hunter.

Actually, that's not entirely true, I liked him in TCW season 7, when he was that silly man who fucked droids around the place, took no shit, and loved his brothers. I like the Hunter who, not putting this nicely, had a personality.

This is not a dig on him as a character, it's a dig on how he was handled, writing wise

Listen, I totally get that the "rugged-man-adopts-a-star-child" trope is popular, and I do LOVE that trope, really I do- I just don't really think it was done that well here? It's bothered me since s1 of the Bad Batch, and I don't think it's going to get any better this season....

My only real problem with the writing inconsistency of Hunter being an older brother of three to "Omega this, Omega that" and while I agree childcare is SUPER difficult at the best of times, Hunter had four brothers who were equally capable of taking care of Omega, too. It just never sat right with me that taking care of her became his ENTIRE personality

Hes a soldier, who despite being completely out of his element, had a routine he strictly followed for the whole war. Yet he seemed to completely forget about that ?? Stressed or not stressed, that worn in routines and LIFELONG LESSONS should not have left his head as quickly as they seemed to.

The most obvious and frustrating example of the oversimplification of Hunter's character is with Crosshair. I cannot even BEGIN to describe my anger when it comes to Hunter and Crosshair. It mainly stems from the way he just FORGETS his brother is with the Empire. Conveniently never bringing it up unless someone else did it first.

As the oldest sibling and squad leader, I personally think Hunter should have been the one to bring him up. It should not have had to be specifically mentioned by another character for Hunter to discuss it. He loves his brothers, he loved Crosshair, broody or not, he should have brought it up AT LEAST once, imo.

We also see this complete disregard for Crosshair AGAIN in s3, now that we have seen Hunter looking for Omega and not ONCE mentioning Crosshair. Has he forgotten that they were originally going to find Crosshair??? That they never actually FOUND their brother ??????? Annoyed me so much, tbh.

What else annoyed me was the singular language he used during the whole episode. "She's part of our squad." "Hemlock took SOMEONE from us." He's completely and utterly disregarding the OTHER TWO SIBLINGS that the Empire took away from him !!!!! It genuinely frustrates me so much.

I know I'm DEFINITELY nit-picking here, but even when Hunter looked to Tech's goggles, it was in a "He should've been here to do this." Way, not a "He should be here." Way. That's his brother, who died looking for another that Hunter has forgotten.

Hunter's tunnel vision is probably one my least favourite things about the Bad Batch, if I dare even MENTION that- and I love this show. It means so much to me, but I just can't handle this particular part of it...

I have so SO much anger directed towards the treatment of Hunter by the writers. I want the Hunter who was devoted to his WHOLE family, who fought for ALL of them, who would have NEVER allowed Crosshair to leave in the first place. Give me that Hunter back.

(Saying this- I do not mind Hunter and Omega's father/daughter and brother/sister relationship !!! I do really enjoy it- in small amounts. The fact that Hunter became nearly an extention of Omega really just- threw me off his whole character, really)

I specifically pick to ignore this when I'm making anything. Hunter has been a sergeant of three idiots(named endearingly) for the entirety of the war. One child who wanders around should not have taken up 100% of Hunter's attention, ESPECIALLY when he was surrounded and supported. It just bothers me, idk

Anyway, thats my rant !!! Back to some positives soon, promise !! I just had to get this off my chest, it's been BOTHERING me.

[bull-shit-suji]

kuro modern au stuff that i word vomited into my notes app

kind of a Vincent summoned sebastian to save ciel so ciel doesnt actually owe sebas anything

amnesia? idk

single dad moment! except theres this other dad whos kinda find.. (cough agni)

i think vincent was like do NOT let ciel know ur a demon so sebastian keeps it a secret but he doesnt have a good handle on like. Humans. so he kinda does a bad job and ciel definitely knows that he's weird but doesnt say anything. will go out of his way to gaslight you when sebastian does weird shit because he thinks its funny

"hey uhh is your dad levitating?"

"no?"

"he's flying above the school rn"

"that's a bird"

u think suddenly being a butler is hard? have fun being a dad bitch

alois is there but thats complicated. claude and hannah are DIVORCED but on decent terms (i think claude is like. toxic alpha male podcast type guy) and claude sees alois on alternating weekends!

are they demons? i dont know

i think ciel and alois can be friends. platonically. alois would probably say yes if ciel wanted to be romantic but i Promise you he does not. they are just pals :)

im saying ciel has a crush on elizabeth because i can (she's not his cousin here). emo boy x sunny church girl. said sunny church girl has to ask the mcdonalds employees for the blue raspberry slushie they forgot to put in ciel's order because emo boy is too scared.

IM 13 EVERYTHING SUCKSSSSS

grelle is actually living her best life transitioned with anne so they are ciel's aunts on his late mom's side. i think grelle likes ciel. mom figure moreso than anne is.

ciel owns four bongs and definitely a vape or two. come on now

he's also probably got celiac and is lactose intolerant he is just a feeble boy i think

he listens to twenty one pilots. sorry! sorry.

ciel is goth alois is punk those r kinda just the rules

ciel is insanely smart top of the class this shit is easy for him.

yells at sebastian daily. figured out what happened with his real parents around the age of uhhhh 12 or 13? has been an absolute terror ever since

"it was really nice of your dad to bring cookies for the field trip!"

"i hope he fucking chokes on one"

"oh!"

sebastian and claude are pta rivals.

"is this lemon bread store bought? my, how... efficient!"

"you made these from scratch? i can tell."

"i've never seen an interesting looking salsa! very exciting."

ciel purposefully invites alois over constantly bcus it pisses sebas off. alois is Terrified of that man.

"go grab the chips from the kitchen"

"but... what if mr michaelis is in there?"

"mr m- you mean my dad? tell him he can shove a faucet up his ass"

"id rather die on the spot"

sebastian will yell at ciel and is maybe a little emotionally unavailable but he's trying!!! it's hard :(

does that Dad thing where he comes into ciels room and is like hey bud......... what r u up to..

ciel and seiglinde r also palls. the smartest people in school

lizzie is a JOCK. she plays softball.

alois is a theater kid come on now

ciel is best at writing and literature analysis, specifically fiction. enjoys history, language, and Some sciences as well.

nerd

au where myspace is still a thing ciel has a myspace account

he definitely writes shitty poetry

wants to major in business

alois is a glee and pitch perfect truther

[mono-dot-jpeg]

a flower & flower protector - p. niran [lifeweaver]

summary; you've heard of a sunshine and sunshine protector, well how about a flower and flower protector?

genre/extra tags; fluff, general headcanons abt being lifeweaver's s/o but with a more set dynamic, me just thinking about a dynamic in my head, reader is an overwatch agent (tank to be specific), very black cat & retriever energy in a way?, lifeweaver is the flower.. heh, get it?? bc his thai nickname is bua? which is lotus,,, anyways i love this man

[gender neutral! reader]

a/n; it's a crime that i haven't written for him yet bc i just wish there was more about him. he's literally my only source of representation as a south asian gay (at least the closest i'll get to a cambodian lgbt figure). and i love him so much for that but i will never forgive people shitting on him bc of blizzard's shit timing for everything

ugh, anyways, representation matters and i love him. i lost my shit when he was first announced, it made me so happy to see another type of south asian (especially one close to my family's home country) in my favorite game and he was gay so it was even more impactful as a gay person myself. and i imagine it was the same for a lot of other people.

niran is too nice sometimes

you love him for it but he seriously needs to pump the breaks on trying to do so much sometimes

especially since he is still technically wanted in several countries for his developments in bio light.

he's not,, super golden retriever energy but he's always so bright and sweet, it's hard to not at least say dog energy. maybe at least... chill dog energy. glad to be here but not being crazy energetic about it.

you.. not so much. you're very "i dont mind being here but i dont like it either" and he finds it entertaining and endearing bc even if you hate it, you're with him and making sure he's having a good time and there's no one there to ruin it

you're kind of intimidating but then you stand next to niran and he's so much taller than you ?! you're like near his chin or lips in height, so you're still kind of tall?? but also he is a very tall man in general

some people find it hard to believe that you're the one in the frontlines in battle and he's the one supporting you but it's really cute though

he likes that you're close to his height. "just means easier access to kiss you!" in his words.

he's always the one initiating pda and you never say no to it. you always grumble abt it but he just smiles so sweetly and you end up letting him do what he wants

but in private, you're the one being attached to him

often being the little spoon bc as much as you love protecting the people of the world, you want to be protected too sometimes and that's okay

but you do like being big spoon too and he loves being cuddled when you're the one initiating it

he's always the one rambling to you about his new discoveries and his plants or just anything in general

and you're always listening intently. and you get him things based on what he's talked about recently or what reminds you of him :')

"did you get this for me, dear?"

".. no." [yes.]

"of course, of course." he nods knowingly, sending you that little smug smirk. he obviously knows. "well, then i'm just gonna go ask the rest of the agents if they- [gifted this to me]"

you're hugging him from behind, face pressed against his back, "i hate you so much niran."

that stupidly cute laugh leaves his lips, "i love you too."

the overwatch crew's opinions really vary

symm doesn't mind your presence when you're around, she doesn't mind when you have silent moments bc she has those moments too. you both are close friends

genji kind of relates to you, when you just feel like being away from people but you don't want to actually feel lonely. he finds solace in that. also you both probably meditate together (with zen on occasion), and he enjoys having a meditation partner

tracer is always nice around you, very cheery and always trying to get a laugh or smile out of you. you only spare a weak laugh or a huff of a laugh and niran has to explain that you probably did find her joke funny and you don't want to admit it (which is true). sometimes it's a bit awkward when he's not around to explain that, so you just come off as really really awkward or unintentionally rude (or maybe intentionally if you didn't like her jokes)

you know that baptiste flirts a lot with niran, and you dont really care bc he does that with mostly everyone. you don't blame him (some of the agents are really pretty and handsome but you love niran the most). you trust niran enough. he's a very honest person with you.

bap also tries to flirt with you too. niran joins in to double team you and get you flustered. and sometimes it works. you're unfortunately really bad at handling and accepting compliments.

bap is very flirty best friend vibes but he never pushes past the limits of course. niran's glad to have a friend who matches his energy and you're just glad he's got another place to put that energy

continuing on...

after missions, he's always patching you up. you're the tank after all (you can only take so many orisa spears to the head-)

during missions, he gives his 110% for you and the team. and he does it well ‼️

during those off times (which can really vary what with null sector and the invasion and etc.), you both just try to relax as much as possible. sometimes niran gets really restless bc he just wants to save the world as soon as possible :(

but you remind him about how it takes time and even heroes need rest.

you tend to take care of him more during those off times because he just gets so anxious and he overthinks a bit.

you're very realistic with your goals, niran can get too optimistic, and it can really hurt him. but you keep him grounded.

mm.. let's move to a lighter topic now,,,,

his love language is physical touch and acts of service. his in game,,, everything just screams that to me idk

when he pulls you in his life grip and saves you 😍 (lowkey, i fall in love with those players who save my ass like that as a support player/j)

nah but real talk, when you come back to him in the grip, he slips a hand around your waist, "let me hold you a bit longer, hm?" I LOVE HIM FR FR ‼️‼️

anyways, he likes doing things for you. and the pda thing as mentioned before applies to the physical touch love language ofc

he has to have like a few seconds to gently guide your close to him with his hand on your lower back or to hold your hand. or just hold you in general.

he's the type of guy to say you have something your hair and goes to fix it but there was nothing, he wanted an excuse to make it a kdrama moment

he's like a bit dramatic but you love him for it you know?

he's a bit cheesy but he's cute so it's okay

he's always telling you how much he loves you. you dont do the same, at least not verbally

it's mostly physically/through actions. handing him things he didn't know he needed, buying him presents that made you think of him

very gift giving and acts of service

..

man this is longer than i thought it was gonna be... um..

idk if i should go further. someone request it and i'll write in-game interactions that would happen or describe flower protector! reader more. /hj

[ilynpilled]

also, in her converation with Ned, cersei outright TELLS him that Jaime would kill Robert if he knew how Robert abused her (fuck robert i hope he's rotting). and Robert knew it too which is why all his bruises were generally weren't on her face where people, specifically including Jaime, could see.

This is her exact quote: "Jaime would have killed him (Robert), even if it meant his own life"

that's probably one of the reasons why she doesn't tell him. she was in an awful, awful situation and it reflects the situation of so many other abuse victims across the world. it's not fair that she should have to keep this from her own family and worry about what her brother would do, but if he DIDN'T do anything...what kind of a person would he be? just look at Aemon the Dragonknight as a prime example

regarding this post: link

yeah thats the quote they refused to take at face value when almost everything about his characterization indicates that it would be the case.

i think when it comes to the discussions of much of this the dissonance comes from not confronting that this society refuses to acknowledge marital rape as rape. i do not have the quote at hand but george himself has expressed that marital rape doesnt exist in medieval society. that is why it makes sense that while jaime is aware that robert “claimed his rights”, he does not recklessly murder him for it in rage unless cersei gives the word (again, we already know he is ready to do it after he sees that robert is disrespecting her by cheating on her and proceeds to ask her if she wants him dead for it. but like you pointed out, cersei understands that if he saw evidence of physical abuse he likely would not ask for permission and potentially get himself killed.) this is because arranged marriages are treated as a norm in which conjugal rape and a man claiming his rights is not really acknowledged or understood (more like confronted tbh) as rape. this is an integral aspect of the patriarchal domination thats present in westerosi society, its woven into its very fabric. women are placed into a role of subordination, again, it is robert’s “right.” and jaime too is unable to conceptualize it as sexual abuse on the level of rape. hence we get quotes like this:

like we know and understand that cersei was repeatedly raped by robert. we know she didnt make anyone kill her. we know what jaime is saying and thinking here is inconsistent and makes little sense if he believes that she was raped.

that other passage suggests that jaime does not fully grasp or know this. and in general society doesn’t for the most part, including most of the victims themselves. “claiming his rights” is not referred to as rape. robert also knows that what he is doing is wrong, especially the part where he is hurting her (theres also the layer of the code of chivalry being completely contradicted), but he refuses to confront it in multiple ways, and i dont think even he fully acknowledges it as rape either even though i refuse to believe that he is not aware of it. cersei’s right to label him a coward. same with ned in that very conversation, he even sees and knows that robert physically hit her, heard her say that she can scarcely bear him touching her, and yet he asks: “a thousand other women might have loved him with all their hearts. what did he do to make you hate him so?”, and cersei also doesn’t give the answer: “he repeatedly raped me.” jaime understands rape as terrible, he shows concern towards brienne, and risks personal harm (and gets it too since he is kicked unconscious because of it) saving her from it, and it is an act driven by empathy, and he even ironically acknowledges that rape can leave someone broken in a way that does not show on the outside. he executes pia’s rapist too, sets a precedent among his father’s men, and recognizes that she’s “scarred” where it does not show: “That’s all she is, a little girl in a woman’s body, scarred and scared.”

and re the present: while i have a sympathy for jaime in the sense that the betrayal that he was confronted with shatters the delusion that he made immense sacrifices for and defined most of his life atp, and the fact that it makes him feel that he was not actually loved by her as well as recontextualizing his most horrible decisions, he should be showing more consideration and empathy (and i am not saying that he is obligated to die for her either. he isnt) and put in the effort to actually place himself in cersei’s shoes and navigate these blindspots that he has (he has the capacity to, again: “they will leave her a cripple too, but inside, where it does not show”). right now, he is extremely bitter, violently even, and can be selfish and misogynistic as hell about it, and i obviously believe that that is something that has to be recognized by readers for what it is.

but still, regarding the rest, i also think ppl dont acknowledge that because of how medieval society operates there is a very skewed perspective and understanding of certain things and how that affects characters. even with rhaella, jaime is disturbed by the physical abuse:

like he doesnt use the word rape like he does with brienne and the bloody mummers, but he obviously hears and sees that the abuse thats happening to rhaella is horrid and hurts her, and feels a need/obligation to protect her. this is why it is not inconsistent at all that jaime would recklessly murder robert without “permission” even if it meant his own life if he saw evidence of physical abuse, but does not do the same for the marital rape/him claiming his rights. in this society it is not viewed as a violation of rights because women do not really have these rights in these circumstances. their purpose is to marry and bear children. rape is mostly understood and recognized as “low born criminals violently raping women”, “knights and soldiers violently raping women when their blood is up” etc, not “nobles in marriages raping their wives when they claim their rights”, or “coerced rape occurring every time nobles use brothels” etc.

and, as you may have noticed, there’s a strong “you’re hurting me” motif with all of this, because no matter what westerosi society normalizes to maintain patriarchal hegemony, it is obviously all an utter violation of human rights that deals immense harm and trauma to women.

[antiquepearlss]

im going to harrass you with my tts halloween related questions until its tysmgiving and then i bombard you with tjose and yhen crisis, and well u get it idk

i love ur hcs i find them interesting

OKAY ANYWAYS, what dya think the tts characters favorite halloween candy is(or like what they enjoy bcuz thats what this ask ended up as)...

rapunzel likes all candy, she will eat anything and everything, but she secretly likes the fruity candies more than like chocolate ans what not, but shhhh everything is still apatizeing to her(except lemon stuff, like dont give her a lemon head man). eugene likes chocolate and so does cass, i think ever since i got introduced to cass i js thought she liked chocolate, specifically dark chocolate js bcus shes not much of a sweets person yk?(she usually takes the dark chocolate hersheys & dark chocolate milkyways if no one wants them) but eugene likes all chocolates, milky ways? yes. snickers? yes. heck even an almond joy he'll eat.

lance is like raps, he'll eat whatever(usually he just eats what the girls dont want LMAO) but smth about me makes me think his fav is jelly beans... angry and catalina are both similar, but i think catalina doesnt like nuts in her candy(i dont either, i know im insane u can hate me already), but kiera probably likes snickers, though i think she likes baby ruths more. catalina is a big fan of reeses tho, like yes peanut butter & chocolate yum yum yum.

varian likes the fruity candy cuz he is one /JOKE

but fr varian is one of those people who gets a whole carrot or smth and is like "omg thank you!!" and eats it like a chocolate bar, i do too so its okay. but his fav candy is skittles, like actually he will gobble down a whole bag like no ones business(he also likes gummies, of any sort really, oh and jolly ranchers)

and hugo doesnt get candy he gets mf rocks like charlie brown(respectfully, hugo probably likes kitkats and sweetarts)

this is so much IM SO SORRY HELP, my fav halloween candy is crunch bars & milky ways, but honestly all candy is so good lol

I’m so down, spam my inbox if you want. (I’m so hyped for Christmas Tangled Posting. Rapunzel loves Muppet Christmas Carol.) Also thank you very much.

So I’m definitely the wrong person to ask this actually. I’m not really a big fan of candy tbh. I like it sometimes, but I usually prefer savory snacks. Honestly what you said is pretty much canon to me. I love these.

But I’ll try my best.

Punzie Wunzie- Like you said, prefers fruity candies to chocolate. Probably likes skittles and Starbursts, stuff like that. I feel like she’d like gummies. Esp the orange ones with sugar on them.

Gene- Chocolate all the way. And not the cheap crap, the really fancy stuff, like truffles.

Lance- Same as Eugene but I think he likes Hershey chocolate and generally just candy bars. Probably likes sour and spicy candies as well. And yes absolutely he loves jelly beans. Same with Cat and Varian.

Var Bear- I think he’ll eat anything tbh but he canonically likes chocolate, so he steals Eugene’s truffles and Lance’s candy bars. And I can see him liking hard candies and suckers, because you can eat them while working.

Cassie Wassie- Again like you said, dark chocolate. She doesn’t strike me as much of a candy person. I can see her liking candy with nuts (despite being a lesbian)

Thing 1 & The Other 1- I feel like Cat prefers savory foods because wolf hehe. So yes peanut butter candies all the way. Same with Kiera, idk she just doesn’t strike me as that much of a candy person either so I think she’d eat ab anything as well. Like they like candy well enough they just don’t really have favorites. Maybe they both like sour/spicy candy.

everyone else- Quirin and Arianna like those old person candies that just materialize in your house when you turn 60. Adira also prefers fancy chocolates. Frederic, I don’t know let’s say circus peanuts. Hector doesn’t care why are you asking him this. Edmund hasn’t had candy in years, honestly he’d be happy just eating a bag of straight sugar.

My favorite is probably milky ways. Because they’re good and I gotta stick with my astronomy aesthetic I’ve got going on. Also Skittles slap.

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

Hi i have sigewinne thoughts id like to hear your takes on

It is established that sigewinne is in the fortress wayyyy before wrio because she was also incarcerated for something right (or maybe she just has weird lingo that makes it SOUND like she committed a crime idk). And its still unclear exactly when she went from being an inmate to a working nurse (could be the same as wrio or she was also one of the people who chose to stay in meropide after her sentence is over who knows).

But like the warden before wrio is horrible iirc. And idk man horrible warden would equal unhappy, starving, desperate, and violent (and most importantly DEAD!) prisoners right?

I know melusines has this higher being-esque distant way of how they view humanity. They talk about humans being adorable like how humans would describe pets and animals. Im not saying its in a deragotory way, but theyre... a lil bit tone deaf because of it ya know. Like they KNOW they should do good for good sake but not exactly comprehend that good would make humans feel good (sedene literally went 'ah yes i remember that when humans are sad, you feed them, then theyre not sad!)

Do you think sigewinne would just... people watch? Would help humans that approach her yeah but she just... is aware that the humans around her are the sad and the hungry. And they are just less so when the warden changed? I doubt ANYONE would stay in meropide after their sentence during the previous warden era, but her staying solely to people watch and keep them healthy isnt.... that... farfetched.

And i love sigewinne, would probably need that level of distance to be a tiny nurse in a fortress of criminals. I just wonder how she is during the previous warden era because i dont really see her getting along with them either (or the warden kept her around for free labour who knows)

Sorry for the late reply, my social spoon has been low. The yap machine broke LOL

ANYWAY the melusines. I do honestly think Genshin Often write themselves into a hole with how they want to keep things "light" while still ... doing ... dark crazy shit. Putting a Melusine in Jail. Why. And also genshin's writer team is just... not good. But we have been through that I've rambled At Length about what I think there so.

Here's specific thoughts about Sigewinne.

Firstly............ what? I haven't touched new content since Fontaine MSQ finished, disclaimer, so I'm just taking your word for it. Secondly, making Sigewinne an ex convict is just so immensely Dumb of Mihoyo because that meant. Neuvillette had to sentence her. Right?? And how is That not more prominent to his story than him having to sentence Vautrin or even Wriothesley for that matter, given how he canonically feels about the Melusines and their safety. Sending one of them to Prison, where all of the Bad Guys who Hates Him and would kill the Melusines to get back at him. would ... have to fuck him up. Like he reacted so severely to just Hate Mail. How was Sigewinne's story Not At All impactful to his?

This is almost surely a Teams Not Communicating and/or Mihoyo Haven't Released Her So Everything About Her is Under Wraps thing. Which also makes no sense because.................. Wriothesley's sentence was literally referenced by that file on Neuvillette's desk. Which by the way is insane like sir it has been years. Put it away. But did they do anything like that for Sigewinne? I dunno. Haven't played in ages. The fact that she works down there At All is kinda wack if you consider how protective Neuvillette is.

So........ like... were the Melusines around even Before he was Iudex? He only brought them out of the water and into Fontaine but it's not stated that they're actually younger than him... or younger than 500 years right....... Was she sentenced by the Previous Archon? How can MHY tell a story that says so much and yet answers nothing.

Anyway, about Sigewinne and the Melusines' inaction specifically, I don't actually mind too much. They are so extremely different from humans in terms of how they age and what their maturity looks like, and that it's not too hard for me to grasp that they're just gonna act in ways that make them seem................... so out of touch. This layer actually adds so much to them in my mind in terms of how their immortality works compared to say, the Adepti, and how their emotions and memory function. I once had a thought that because they are so unaffected by loss and death all around them that they might... literally... be one of the only immortal species on Teyvat that is immune to corrosion lol. Or at least, the emotional anguish kind. In the sense they're almost like slimes. Where they just:

1. Don't recall their history with much intensity at all (that one melusine literally forgot Carole died. Or maybe it wasn't made clear to her that one of them just vanished. Maybe a lot more Melusines have died than we thought).

2. Don't care. #Live in the moment.

3. Don't ruminate (I literally said this in my fic funnily enough AHAHAHA).

Like if anyone in Fontaine is truly seriously impartial to humans, its them. Their ability to be so detached to suffering looks Frightening to outsiders (layering on their history with discrimination here lmao) but in actuality, if you consider that they're legitimately another species with a different brain, you'd be able to see their behaviour through less of a moral lense. It's literally as if they don't fully comprehend life and death— even Carole doesn't seem to fully understand death itself. And they forget things (Elynas, their 'father') which is arguably Not Erosion (forgetting small stuff is normal, and if you live as long as they do, yeah, you're better off forgetting things from 298274 years ago). Even if they remember it's probably like. Oh, that was sad! Anyway, what was I doing?

They just don't. Ruminate. They aren't built like that.

And I don't think that means that they don't care. They're just genuinely very different from humans in how they think and feel. And I refrain from saying "they're autistic" or "emotionally stunted" because these are human conditions and human terms, even if I very much frame my understanding of them through my understanding of these other human conditions. Which is why Neuvillette isn't exactly autistic either. But it's very Hard to say in his case because there's not exactly. Other Water Dragons for us to compare to and see if his cognitive/emotional abilities are Different from them (Unless it's modern au. In which yeah, he is lmao). But all the Melusines have this sort of detachment as if like, emotionally, they don't have... the trauma function basically. Or at least not one that's comprehensible to us.

So in my head, I do think Sigewinne tries her best, but she just simply isn't as emotionally charged by her experiences as, say, Wriothesley. She worked in Meropide while Wriothesley was sentenced there, so she did work under the previous warden as well, and I'm sure she did her job Well and she had her own way of caring for people but if they drop dead... genuinely, I think she'd just be like. "Aw, how sad. Anyway, I have other people to treat." Which, arguably, makes her a much more efficient nurse LMAO.

And it may seem so cruel to people do view her through a humanistic lense, but if you see it as like, if she's reached the level of enlightenment that Buddhist practitioners could only Dream of, and she's able to literally let these heavy events wash over her without letting it affect her, all while still being a caring being, this all would hopefully feel less uncomfortable. I do genuinely think she cares, but her emotional range and cognition just reaches. This point. Which is fine and doesn't make her inherently a bad character or person, I think.

I do literally think she can sit down with someone grieving and be like, "I understand that you are going through a process, and I will let you process things at your own rate, while I administer care as well as I can."

And they can be like, "Why don't you give a shit that they died?!!"

And she'd be like, "Would me feeling worse bring them back?"

Then, depends on how they react, she would continue like. "Unfortunately I do not feel things the same way that you do, and I do understand that humans often want their conversation partners to be able to relate to them, to feel as though they aren't alone in their feelings. Perhaps if you attend the memorial later, you'd be able to find those who can grieve with you. But if you feel any pain, or need any medicine, I will be here to help you!"

Yknow like. She's not Unkind. But she's very much... not gonna feel the same way about death as her patients. If anything this might make her the Best Suited person to be in charge of care in Meropide, and she might have already figured that out herself, and was like, "Monsieur Neuvillette, only I can do this without going insane. Please let me do this."

And he's like............... (shaking with fear for her) "Alright."

[differentcoloredcontacts]

How would the class act with an s/o with a Bowerbird Quirk starting nesting behaviors in spring... or just nesting behaviors in general?

Not proofread we die like men

Awase - he insisted on helping with his s/os make shift nest once he found out what they were doing and he definitely tried. It was a bit annoying that he kept welding stuff down when it wasn't goint to end up where it currently was but its whatever.

Sen - Honestly he calls it stupid at fist but then he sees how much time his s/o is genuinely investing into making their makeshift nest and he decides to help a bit. He dosent know what to do so he just hands them some sticks and calls it a day

Kamakiri - he honestly dosent really care. If his s/o asks him to help he will probably make a decent blade for them to use and he will just leave his s/o with it at that lmao

Kuroiro - he will suggest that his s/o makes their makeshift nest as dark as his soul. If they do then he acts all evil about it lmao. Like a master mind whos evil plan finally worked but if his s/o dosent make their nest all black their just met with the smallest please the worlds ever heard lmao

Kendo - she thinks the bird like/ nesting behaviors are really cute ngl. She offers to help with the nest making and if her s/o lets her she silently gets really happy <3

Kodai - If her s/o wants her to help make the nest or something then she will help but other than that she dosent really mess with it. She dosent mind the bird like behavior so she dosent really point it out or acknowledge it at all.

Komori - she decorates her s/os makeshift nest with her mushrooms to make it prettier. Obviously only non poisonous mushrooms for their safety <3

Shiozaki - she will grow her vines and cut and trim off the thorns to make ropes to help keep her s/os nest that their making together. Its really just a bunch of pillows and blankets tied together with the occasional twig or feather but still lmao.

Shishida - he also has a lot of animal like tendencys because of his quirk so he understands completely. He will help his s/o find twigs and things that they want to use. Birds also use fur for their nests a lot so if they want some of his all they have to do is ask.

Shoda - he offers help if its wanted but he dosent do anything special other than that. He understands that his s/o might not want it since making a nest is pretty important and thats fine by him

Pony - she has no idea what her s/o is doing but shes supportive. Once she finds out theyre making a nest with their pillows and blankets she will pull up bird nests on pintrest and help them look for inspo lmao

Tsubaraba - he really wants to help since he thinks his s/os bird like tendencys are a bit silly. But hes also really bad at it. He keeps sending his s/o pictures of random bird nests saying stuff like the leaves on this one <3 or some shit like that lmao

Tetsutetsu - even if his s/o dosent want his help he will find something to help with simply because he thinks its cool. He will be their hype man if necessary. He will scream about how cool it looks every two seconds lmao

Tokage - once she hears about her s/o making a home made nest or something similar to that she will start telling them all her crazy ideas to make it look as cool as possible.

Manga - he will help by sketching out his s/os ideas so they can visualize it better and see if they like it. He also helps quite a bit with the physical labor.

Honenuki - a lot like shoda he is more than willing to help his s/o if its wanted but if they dont want his help then he understands and instead will spend his time doing his own thing <3. He will make them a snack in he feels they need it though

Bondo - if you ask him too he will help by using his quirk but he understands that his s/o might be very specific about how they want their makeshift nest so he mostly leaves it up to them. He dosent mind helping if its wanted

Monoma - he insists on helping with his s/os nest (even if its mostly pillows and blankets lmao) and he helps by puting fairy lights all around it and tinsel and stuff like that to the point that its kinda hard to look at but he fully believes that it couldent be better

Reiko - when her s/o starts with their nesting habits when spring comes around she dosent do anything special. She stays in the same room silently doing her own thing while her s/o does their own thing as well

Rin - he also has some animal behaviors (aka being cold blooded) so he gets it and is willing to help if his s/o wants him too but for the most part he lets them do as they want.

Gif anime - dungeon meshi

[dykexenomorph]

For the character ask game, how about questions 1-5, 8, and 13 for Max Caulfield?

If you don’t wanna answer that many questions that’s ok, just pick the ones you want 👍

1. Do you project onto this character? well yes, but not always intentionally LMAO

2. Did you always like this character? no actually!! i have a tendency to unintentionally dislike characters who i feel like are similar to me (ignore nell vance, shes an outlier) so i initially found her a bit annoying. it took exactly one replay of the game to be like "oh ok i was wrong......" and start loving her LMAO

3. What first drew you to this character? to be very honest w you it has been SO long since i first got into lis (around 8 years now i wanna say?) that i cannot remember what it initially was? i think it was probably her interests more than anything else (i always forget this but lis ended up getting me into photography and influenced my music taste SO intensely that bands tht i found/like bc of their similarity to stuff on the first games soundtrack keep ending up in sequels LOL)

4. Did you initially dislike/hate this character? see above :3

5. If this character were a woman, would you honestly still like them? Or in reverse, what if they were a man? honestly im not sure? i very genuinely have a harder time relating to guy charas in media (do NOT ask me why, i couldn't tell u), but i also feel like i love max too much for anything to change that? hard to say!!

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you? [camera pans over to the 239827 angry sequel max antis that i keep unintentionally finding on tiktok] um. no comment. (real answer is like? yes but only in the sense tht i dont want any super huge changes to what i feel like her established style and preexisting face already are?)

13. If you could draw effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw for this character? this one is a hard one bc i've been wanting to draw more of her for a WHILE now? if i had to single out one thing then i think it'd maybe be cool to do something having to do w her (lack of) texts with chloe during her time at seattle OR smth with her using pictures to go to different timelines towards the end of the game? i KNOWW neither of these sound very specific but i swear i have real pieces/drawings im envisioning for both of these </3

FAVORITE CHARA ASKS

[redheadbigshoes]

🌻 here, why is that one anon commenting on an anon'd ask that doesn't even say what people or posts its talking about lol

Yeah it's messed up no matter what to fetishize black folk, do we even see the post? know who is being talked about? have any evidence of anything at all? they seem pretty eager to jump on a trans woman mentioned tangentially through an anon ask...

Anyway I wanted to weigh in on the gender segregated sports with adding that we hear so often from conservatives that big strong scary trans women will win all the womens sports but people don't know I guess that hormone therapy for transfems literally atrophies our muscles lol.

I used to play american football in jr high and high school and I worked out regularly in college and I've lost pretty much all of that strength over the last 5-6 years of taking t-blockers and estrogen. I lose arm wrestling matches with my butch lesbian cousin lol. Trans women on hormones have absolutely no difference to our body capabilities than a cis women. Which doesn't mean they'd be weaker than any given man or anything, given that anybody can still work out enough to build strength to compete in a sport, but my point is we hear about trans women having 'biological' advantages in sports so much cis people forget what the reality is for trans women who compete.

I honestly think it is sexist to segregate sports by gender, given that women can absolutely beat men in anything in the world, I know a cis women that is 2 feet taller than me who could be a basketball star over any man if she wanted to, but that brings up the fact that sports aren't totally fair even within gender segregation, since sports inherently favor people with specific body types. So if you wanted to be truly egalitarian you would segregate sports by weight classes, or something like that.

But you are right that in any co-ed sports in our current society there will always be misogyny, its the reason why we have a seperate chess league is because one of the sports with no body favoritism which anyone can pick up and learn and practice and plenty of women become amazing at chess, they are still systemically repressed from being able to compete and practice like their men peers do. They face increased scrutiny and barriers that men dont, which is why trans women competing in women's sports is important for us in this current setting. Women can compete in any sport that men can, but misogyny is prevalent in every sports space, as well as transmisogyny, so a trans woman barred from women's leagues has basically no fair and safe space to compete and enjoy a sport.

-🌻

It’s complicated whenever minorities are involved because the other anon (the one who made that comment about the first anon’s ask) didn’t have the context about the situation nor the specific post the person was talking about, so it really seems that they got defensive about it because it’s probably a sensitive topic for them.

Meanwhile, like you said, they were eager to jump on a trans woman without even knowing exactly what they were talking about.

About the gender segregation: people don’t even take 2 seconds to look up how there’s a general rule that trans women who compete in the women category (when it comes to sports) need to be on hormone blocks (idk if that’s the right term) for at least a year before competing from what I know.

Yeah like I said on the reblog: what’s most stopping from segregating everything into gender categories (not only sports) is misogyny. I think if we want to stop dividing things into gender categories the first thing to do is to think how it will be able to do that without women being negatively affected.

[heartfelttry]

i am replying to JacFrostIsReal's video here (about the Joker, how fictional mysteries being unsolved are just as valuably and narratively important as fictionally solved ones, "Mediocre White Man Syndrome"™, how she loved Red Hood Joker, and a bit about Two-Face. intrigued? yes, good, go watch her tiktok, go give her engagement please) bc this got way too long for a comment, or even a comment thread wHICH IS SAYING SOMETHING FROM ME (I LEAVE COMMENT THREAD MONOLOGS LIKE NOBODY'S BUISNESS) but ill put it under a read more out of politeness

my reply's bullshit of a summary: but yeah, the below is a Joker headcanon about "the true Joker's identity" and how i personally reconcile with the three main Jokers types (not identities. but types. we got what i call "Adam West Joker", "Agent of Chaos Joker", and "Grim-Dark Joker". this trio. here. that's what i mean) with all this hullabaloo of canon trying so bad to go "but what's his name, what's his story??" and me smacking DC's hand away from this Schrodinger's Cat of a cookie jar labeled "Joker" with this hc, happily, every time. enjoy?

reminder that i am dyslexic and i havent REALLY edited this stream of consciousness, so, like, be nice when i inevitably mispell/make typos lol also this was originally going to be a tiktok comment-thread so some odd things like "dead" are censored here and there before i realized mid-way "this is too long. i cant do a thread this long" lmao rip im just too exhausted today to edit atm. disability, chronic illness symptoms, c'est la vie lol

omg i have had the most wild TOTALLY HEADCANON answer to this, all bc im like "i wanna make a Gotham OC fanfic (.......yes the one with Kaycie that's kinda the only other post in this blog, stfu, lemme finish), but im too sickly to do it rn. ill just plot it for now on and off" and part of my plotting was "how do i want to approach Joker and his 'true identity' bs??" bc taking what canon from where for this fic was important to me as it was part of the plot i want to do. but like?? there's some comics i love where i just.. ignore their idea for Joker's backstory. cognitive dissonance that. but i implement other canon from those comics. v much cherry-picking; idgaf, thats THE way to go about comics. so i was like "what canons am i cherry-picking for this fanfic version of Joker?" and my eventual idea became my hc foR ALMOST ALL CONTEMPORARY JOKERS EVER and ill share it, sure, i love to info-dump

bc i came up with an answer that (admittingly idk ALL OF THE INTERNET EVER so maybe i independently came up with the same idea as someone else, but, this is my pitch, totally original to me specifically as far as i am aware:) makes both all the "real" Jokers "canon" and also NONE of them canon, and instead re-inforces the mystery of nobody knowing who the fuck this guy is

and that's that he "heals quickly" by seeing Professor Pyg (at 🔫point probably) and just.. getting a new fucking whatever's-broken

leg-broke? amputate and replace. wrist arthritis? amputate and replace. so on and so forth

but we dont see scars or anything bc, in my hc, he brings some of that acid with him when he sees Pyg (from when he first fell. we know he likely knows its ingredients since, tons of comics, he re-creates it for Harley) (also i like how this idea brings Pyg more to the forefront by proxy. bc Joker's laughing gas and Pyg's "perfect" people are such traumatizingly similar victims who are done in by two totally different people. my squeamish heart is so glad Pyg isnt Well Known outside of comic fans, but the nerd inside me doesnt get WHY he hasnt been part of pop culture osmosis alongside Joker yet wtf). so the acid is like an Even More Fucked Up Version Of The Lazarus Pit but that doesnt grant you immortality and has more cons than it could ever be worth, but Joker loves his "daddy/mommy vat" (you cannot tell me he doesnt call that vat some cringe parental nickname lol, i just wont buy it). the acid does bizarro healing-fast, no-scars nonsense. and the Joker's upped usage of it explains why his skin tends to chemically paper-white and Harley Quinn's (who also fell in the vat in some stories) tends to be her in white make-up. so: his skin-tone then isn't make-up, it's his skin, all bc he keeps re-applying that acid shit, whereas Harley only did it ONCE. and it didnt fuck her up as bad since she doesnt come back for more when she could just let her bones heal. (plus, him doing this stuff?? to me, it connects him a bit further to "The Joker's Daughter", like him replacing bit of himself foreshadows how she wears his face as a mask...)

...anyway, BUT AS A RESULT, he is leaving DNA of all these other people that are "the true identity of Joker". but like. they both are not Joker (theyre victims of Joker and Pyg) and ARE the Joker (theyre part of him). so all those idenities?? none of them are probably the true og Joker who first went to Pyg with a body that was 100% his own (and was using white make-up at the time) with a small vat of the acid going 🔫 "i have a commissioned offer for you that i wont let you refuse, Pyggy". theyre probably just a List Of Victims. you could even then argue all these versions of "the Joker's backstory reveal" are then just forensics and profilers trying to piece together "how did [Name] become the Joker?" and sensationalizing their interpretation, and the comics are "people trying to canonize those theories as fact via their fictional adaptation of this theory" (im aware this is loopy in a multi-verse way buT SHHH SHHH SHH); all having no idea yet that every [Name] there was actually a victim of Pyg and Joker's. how could they know? how could they guess the "reality" within this hc is that the Joker is a personified Ship Of Theseus?? he's like a mosaic from the Byzantine era, of how many pieces of other people he has; or like a stain-glass sculpture; or like the Creature from "Frankenstein" if Viktor Frankenstein became the Creature himself bit by bit. maybe the Joker has even had parts of his brain replaced with other people's (to the point that it becomes "who knows whose brain this originally was" to which all "hey science doesnt work like—"/"iTS COMICS THO. WE HAVE THE LAZARUS PITS ALREADY, THE ACID CAN BE A FUCKED UP PROVERBIAL MEWTWO MAN-MADE VERSION OF RA'S AL GUHL'S MEW. LET THE PSEUDO-SCIENCE HAPPEN. IT'S COMICS. HE CAN SURVIVE THAT MUCH BRAIN TRANSPLANT ON REPEAT NOW" arguments are kinda nullified with) with this glaze of The Acid ontop to allow the blend to Work— bc he keeps using this acid, causing himself to potentially develop ťúmóŕś and needing them removed (and maybe Pyg does secret lobotomies or some shit and sees "what if i replace this part while im at it..??" to see if this makes the Joker "more bareable" to be around, idk). as a result of this absurd desire to never have an injury delay him: even upon his hypothetical autopsy, they'll never know his true identity. forensics and profilers who had been having debates analyzing evidence to "uncover" who the Joker is will be revealed to have had a vast misunderstanding of the dark truth

BUT SAYING THAT?? i still miss past Jokers. before people tried attaching a name to him (that's part of the motivation for me with this hc, just going "actually?? yOURE ALL WRONG, TO ME, SPECIFICALLY" lmao rip). like. for one, i miss shitty-at-villainy chaos "im literally the luckiest fucker alive" gremlin Joker (legit? Jason Todd's situation?? proverbially Joker being a "i am eating the chess pieces whenever Batsy isnt looking, and he is confused how i could be winning"). like he isnt a master-mind. he's lucky as hell, he is legitimately Murphy's Law as a bratty villain, the most legitimate "agent of chaos" a person could be, he has no plans, he's flying by the seat of his pants and keeps going "oh sick, im in THE most optimal place somehow so Batman cant kill me for what i just did". liKE WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE STUMBLED INTO BECOMING A DIPLOMAT AFTER JASON TODD'S ḌẸÄṬĤ?? HE GOT SO LUCKY, GOT IN THE PERFECT SITUATION SO SUPERMAN HAD TO RELUCTANTLY GO "dont do it, Batman, itll cause an international incident, ẃáŕ, Jason wouldnt want that, he wouldnt want civillians to ḍịẹ in his name" TO THIS GRIEVING FATHER—??? absurd. dont even talk to me about the Adam West TV show version of Joker (i miSS HIM AND EARTHA KITT CATWOMAN THE MOST), i miss when he was just a silly goofy guy even more than his agent of chaos phase, ugghhhh.. "Adam West Joker", this man was my Megamind before "Megamind" (minus the whole "happy hero ending with the girl" part). just a dude who never won, always was foiled, up to dasterdly Doofenshmirtz hijinks, no grim-dark wild shit yet. i loved him, i miss him

so my hc doesnt work as well on those variations of the Joker, predominantly "Adam West's Joker" as i sloppily label him (i know its oversimplification shhhhh). buT IT DOES WORK ON GRIM-GRITTY EVIL-MASTERMIND-4D-CHESSMASTER JOKER and thats probably all that matters to these Mediocre White Man Syndrome™ variants. idk

[[ quick, here's an edited bit from a DM where i realize i forgot a point i LOVE about the mystery of who the fuck "Adam West Joker" was: ]]

(which. i forgot to go into that i think there's at least one comic who mentions this brand of Joker in an existential "maybe he isnt a person, maybe he just appeared from the universe. maybe Gotham made bad luck personified" or some shit, im not a big fan of "he is not human"-Joker but i am a fan of "yes, people even thought of the Doofenshmirtz variety of the Joker as more myth than Once Possibly Mundane (even tho he's just a guy that no one knows and that that forensics tech just is incapable of recognizing. meaning this man was so normal before he became This that he was THAT off-grid and unrecognizable, like THAT harmless of a person, like what?? and now people in-comic-world are having such a hard time grappling with these unknowns that they're going "what if he is just not a fucking person. he's murphy from murphy's law. alive. how does anyone beat that" whEN HE IS JUST A GUY?? A GUY THEY JUST KNOW ***NOTHING*** ABOUT?)". i love that version of him. he was my Megamind before "Megamind" lmao (...anyway i might copy & paste this "he's just a guy. it drives them insane that they cant prove that he JUST A GUY that theyre mythologizing him— even before Red Hood lore and grim-dark shit got added" belatedly into that post now. but yeah i just forget from what comic exactly bc ✨️chronic memory loss✨️ + 🌈library🌟 lol rip)

but yeah. i do want to mention the Red Hood thing is kinda new, relatively, to Joker's lore; he was originally a true fucking mystery where we didnt get even THAT vague bit of Red Hood. he just.. showed up. what was his trauma? who knows. why is he like this, why does he look like this?? who knows. like, okay, that's badass and funny as fuck, good for "Adam West Joker", love that. i miss "nobody can find out SHIT about this man" version of Joker so badly; all we know is his "ɗīę laughing" thesis

but yeah. Red Hood (Jason) and Red Hood (Joker) is stiLL SO SO SOOOO important to me that, though im still like "Joker is a total mystery. forensics finds NOTHING on this lil Adam West co-star/pre-Megamind-before-Megamind-but-no-hero-ending of a guy" is a canon multi-verse version of Joker to me, i happily accept that Red Hood is a part of "agent of chaos" Joker's lore and "grim-dark mastermind" Joker's lore. 2 out of 3 aint bad. but my hc about Joker going all 🔫 "fix. me." to Prof Pyg works A+ in grim-dark Joker lore. and my hesitation about "agent of chaos Joker lore" is that, to MEEEE, my Pyg hc only works if its "agent of chaos Joker lore after Jason Todd đīēđ (or at least, like, if he started just before Jason ḍịẹḍ and was building up to Jason's said ɗęąţĥ); bc before JT ðıəð/before Joker started building up to brutalize Jason like that, Joker wasnt AS vîôłêňť as he became to be known as... (still massively violent. but not AS much, like he was a bit of clutching-his-punched-gut "they'll all see" type for a bit beforehand if i recall accurately.) but post-JT? yeah, my Pyg hc could quickly apply". so again: 2 out of 3 multi-verse variants? aint bad, ill take that happily

but yeah, feel free to adopt my hc for any time someone goes "he's Jack Oswald White/Jack Napier/Arthur Fleck/whoever-the-fuck", thats what i do. bc then, yeah, "they're all Joker" but also none of them are with this Ship Of Theseus hc. whos the victim, whos real? nobody knows. my preference is obviously "all the people science has found have only been victims; nobody has found the og Joker's true identity" bc i liKED THAT MYSTERY AND THIS IS ME RET-CONNING IT. but i gUESS if you had a favorite version of "who is the real Joker" then the og COULD be that one. but like. why would you?? the mystery is so much better (...tO ME, but whatever), like imagine a Spencer Reid type of guy coming out and "actually, considering the commonalities in how all these people disappeared? implies they were ALL likely victims of Pyg and Joker. for years, we were arguing and accusing the victims of being the murder; it's probably the Joker's biggest, cruellest joke. because, really, we're back where we started. nobody truly knows the real name of the man who 'collaborated' with Pyg for the first time. and we may very well never know". like? how does that not excite the fuck out of you so much more?? headcanons are headcanon, but yours baffles me if you prefer Knowing The Joker's True Name to any of the variant versions or my hc version of Nobody Knows Who The Joker Is Or Where He Came From. jac is so super right, i love her

anyway. uh. pray the universe gives me a medical treatment That Fucking Works at nullifying my chronic illness symptoms if you want this fanfic to ever be a thing so i can write this plot-twist of a hc about "who is the Joker" into a story. feel free to adopt the hc tho. i ask vaguely for credit if you want to copy my hc one-for-one, but MOSTLY what i want is to be @'ed so i can squeal and giggle and see what you made lmao

but i dont anticipate this hc will go viral or something. very unlikely, in my mind. im just saying that as a safety-net in this proverbial trapeze act of a post lol

buT ALSO THANK YOU JAC FOR EVERYTHING YOU SAID ON TWO-FACE, I COULD NOT AGREE MORE. i went from a Joker fan to ".....ew too many people like the Joker in ways i dont, i feel gross now, i need a shower" and came out the other side of that as a Bruce Wayne/Batman × Harvey Dent/Two-Face truther bc they are doomed yaoi in the silliest and most tragic of senses, theyre foils, your honor, i love them (also if we are gonna keep Catwoman × Batman going, imma need sO MANY MORE PEOPLE from both DC and fans being inspired by Eartha Kitt's Catwoman design bc Eartha Kitt is a badass, go look her up, find out why she got replaced as Catwoman on the Adam West "Batman" show, ive been obsessed with this woman since i was like 8 years old and the world neeDS TO JUMP ON MY BANDWAGON ALREADY. i need more Black, Eartha-Kitt-looking Catwoman in my life stat aND, BATCAT, MY LIFE WILL BE YOURS) ....anyway, go watch Jac's video, go give her views, comments, engagement, she's so great and i want to (a) see her do more Gotham FYP skits (tho the Mob Waitress one is so close to a Gotham absurdism that i am happy with that, Jac, dont think i dont get excited when that series appears on my fyp) and (b) do more Batman breakdowns, bc i love hearing women of all backgrounds talk comics, comic-movies, comic-shows— but esp girly-girls. it itches my brain. i need more of it. go give her love, immediately, please

[polaroidpascal]

i've rarely, if ever, explored the world of dark!joel fics... but holy. fucking. shit. i've been struggling to put the words together to explain the way this makes me feel, and it only gets stronger and stronger with the more you decide to share with me. like... i am so fucking invested in this. i wish there was a way i could just pluck my heart out and translate the physical feeling into words or like a visual but i literally can't, IT'S JUST TOO MUCH 😭😭😭

ANYWAYYYSSS... i am sooo fucking excited for more of this. i'm so invested. i'm on edge. i'm holding my breath. i'm falling for him when there is LITERALLY no reason to. i'm deluding myself into thinking he's not that evil but man, oh man, i know he is, like sooo evil. BEYOND evil. and he is also beyond saving, truly.

winter, i bow down to you 🧎‍♀️

it’s not like she’s winning the “mom of the year” award any time soon, either. She’s never even been nominated.

the "she's never even been nominated” made me giggle 😭

You sit cross-legged, elbows propped up on your knees so that your hands can support your weary head, the skin of your palms becoming slippery with salty tears as your crying just doesn’t seem to stop. The road you’ve found yourself on seems relatively low-trafficked, the heaving sounds of your sobs accompanied by more cricket chirps and rustling wheat than rumbling tires.

idk why i could see this so clearly in my head and it made me so sad. like my chest started getting achey i was like :( i feel like i AM her fr

He’s probably just somebody’s harmless grandfather, anyway, judging by his motheaten flannel and gray-stricken beard you can see now that you’ve approached his truck a few paces closer.

JUST SOMEBODY'S HARMLESS GRANDFATHER AIDUBFAKJSDBF

Joel is lucky that all he came away from it with is that ugly little scar that mars the bridge of his nose. He can’t say the same for her.

ohhhhhh my god... making his nose scar be from one of his victims... and from her specifically... oh my fucking GOD.

You suppose that’s what you’ve been needing all this time, someone to guide you and understand you and at least pretend like they care about you.

hello yes i am in this fic and i don't like it 🧎‍♀️ i literally stepped back for a sec i was like woah.

The last room they had, yeah, right. You’re just the most pathetic little thing, aren’t you? You’ll believe just about anything that comes out of his mouth if he turns up the ‘southern charm’ dial a few ticks, throws in a feigned apologetic-looking expression for good measure. It’s sad, really. For you, anyway.

HELLO YES I AM IN THIS FIC AND I DONT LIKE ITTT 😭😭😭

That’s what the others would have done. It’s what they have done. And they faced the consequences.

the panic i got from this... and she's not even awake. and these are just his thoughts. she has no fucking idea... oh my god. 😵‍💫

In the morning, if you do remember any of it, you’ll just chalk it up to a very strange dream, one fueled by the desire he knows you’ve felt towards him since he picked you up. You’ll be left with a strange assuredness that he feels the same way about you, without really knowing why.  But Joel will always know.

he knows her type too good. he knows exactly what will happen. and then it fucking DOES. joel will always. know.

What you are certain of is that neither of you ever have to go back to that town ever again, and that feels good, too. And if it feels good, then it can’t be bad.

if it feels good, then it can't be bad oh my god you really do want me dead winter. i'm on the floor. i'm going through every emotion humanly possible rn.

again i'm so in awe at this bc i don't typically read fics like this... but holy fucking shit. i'm just in awe at you. i'm so sat for more of this. once again saying that i can't even describe how this has captivated me. i wanna give your brain a big old kiss 🧎‍♀️

strangers | part 1

summary: following in the footsteps of a girl you once knew, you decide to up and leave home one morning without looking back. when you find yourself to be tired, hungry, and alone in the middle of nowhere, you're thankful when a kind stranger offers you a ride, a warm meal, and a place to sleep for the night. he only tells you about himself in bits and pieces, but he seems trustworthy enough, and what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, talk of death/murder and blood, mommy & daddy issues, brief talk of domestic violence, lying/gaslighting, manipulation, f-receiving non-con somnophilia (no sex, but groping, fingering, dry humping, kissing, and choking), degrading language toward victims, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart), some joel pov, no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, takes place in illinois/ohio/indiana, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, this part is mostly introduction/storytelling/yapping, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 9.8k

a/n: i started this as a oneshot way back in november, and then it sat abandoned for a very long time. thank you to my lovely friends @polaroidpascal and @chippedowlmug for encouraging me to finish it, and also bestie kiers who never hesitates to match my freak. also thank you to the many writers who made me feel inspired to write something dark and not give a fuck what people think about it. i hope you enjoy this joel he's a freak and i love him and if you say anything mean about him i'll send him after you <3

divider by @saradika

part 2 coming 8/16

Ruby Carpenter.

You had spent all day trying to remember her name without really knowing why. Maybe it’s because as the sun sets on what would be the first day of your junior year at the nearby state school, you wonder if she ever made it to one of the fancy ivy leagues she had always aspired to attend. You wonder if she’s even still alive.

Ruby had disappeared a few years ago now, the summer after your senior year of high school. For nearly a year afterwards, her missing posters remained stapled onto every telephone pole and stuck onto every store window around town, until the paper began to disintegrate and the ink began to fade. In that time, you couldn’t even make a quick run to the grocery store without being confronted by dozens of replicas of her yearbook photo printed onto the sides of all the milk cartons. Despite all of the efforts to find her, including several search parties and a decent amount of statewide media coverage, everyone had just stopped looking for her, eventually. Even the police. Even her parents.

It was decided that she had probably just run away, and you can’t entirely blame her, but you can’t imagine why she would, either. You remember her perfect head of blonde ringlet curls that shone a yellow gold in the sun, and her bright blue eyes that turned fiery in her more passionate moments during classroom debates. She had every boy in your grade wrapped around her finger, was the teacher’s pet in every class, and it wasn’t even a question whether she would win prom queen your senior year. She was always sweet to you, always complimented your outfits or your makeup or your art projects with a genuine lilt in her voice and a kind smile, so you could never bring yourself to hate her even though it would’ve been so easy to. You figured she was going to cure cancer or become the president after you had all graduated, which is why you never really stopped wondering whatever happened to her that summer. She was beautiful, with boundless potential and a bright future ahead of her, why would she have just given it all up?

Everyone around town knew Ruby, or at least it seemed that way. But maybe nobody ever really knew her as well as they thought. Maybe she’d had a secret boyfriend all that time who whisked her away that summer, maybe she had decided to try drugs and fell down a rabbit hole that she couldn’t claw her way out of, maybe she had finally figured out that the only thing this town would ever be good for is holding people back. Maybe she did just wake up one day and decide to run without ever looking behind her.

Maybe you should do the same.

With your dad long gone now and your step-father doing a piss poor job of filling in the hole he left, following in Ruby’s footsteps has sounded like a better idea with each passing day. Rob isn’t even really your step-father, anyway, just your mom’s sorry fucking excuse for a boyfriend. The guy’s already been married upwards of three times before, why try for another one? He’s a lazy son of a bitch who can’t hold down a job at a fast food joint for more than a couple of weeks at a time, who sleeps every second of the day that he’s not chugging through a six pack, and who leaves marks on your mother uglier than his fucking face. 

She doesn’t deserve to be treated that way, of course, but it’s not like she’s winning the “mom of the year” award any time soon, either. She’s never even been nominated. She’s forgotten just about every one of your birthdays, been the reason you’ve never had any friends come over, and in her most recent offense, blew all the savings you had put away for your last two years of college. Which is why you’re not spending tonight celebrating being one year closer to at least having an official-looking piece of paper to show for yourself. Instead, you’re using the rattling of your bedroom window unit and the booming bass of your radio to drown out yet another drunken screaming match between your mother and the guy she lets live in your house now, watching the world outside pass you by and knowing that if you don’t do anything about it now, you’ll never make it out of here. You’re thinking about Ruby Carpenter, hoping she found somewhere greener and more promising and was able to make something of herself, far away from here. And you’re thinking that this rusted orange sunset is the last one you’ll ever see from your bedroom window.

It’s decided, then. You’re leaving, first thing tomorrow.

—

You’ve only gotten a few hours of sleep by the time your alarm clock chimes to life at five o’clock on the dot. You’re quick to silence the shrill beeping with a swift swat of your hand, careful not to wake anyone else in the house. The sun has just barely begun to stream in through the blinds of your bedroom window, but it illuminates the room just enough for your eyes to land on the backpack you had stuffed full of a few changes of clothes last night, waiting for you by the door. 

You don’t waste any time stripping off your pajamas and pulling on just about the only clothes left in your room that aren’t in your bag. You’ve got your teeth brushed, face washed, and hair tamed in all of about ten minutes, too anxious to spend even one more unnecessary second in this house. You swing your backpack over your shoulder, pull your bedroom door open at just the right speed so that the hinges don’t squeak too loud, and tiptoe delicately down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards that you know like the back of your hand—the one three steps from the top, the one at the landing about halfway down, and the very bottom one.

You land softly when you leap over that tattletale bottom step, successful in the most difficult part of your escape plan so far. Rob is passed out on the living room couch in typical fashion, his mouth full of crooked teeth hanging open as his grating snores permeate the calm morning air. He’s still got a death grip around an empty beer can, even in his sleep, and your mother will likely be the one to toss it into the trash for him, useless fucker that he is. You aren’t going to miss either of them, and you imagine they’ll just skip trying to replicate the first half of the aftermath of Ruby’s disappearance altogether—no posters, no search parties, no police. You’ll just be gone, one less mouth for your mother to feed. Though, you’d been mostly feeding yourself since you were tall enough to slide a couple of bills across the counter at the corner store down the street, anyway. You’re ready to disappear, the same as candle wax when it burns, the same as the end of a rainbow, the same as Ruby Carpenter.

You don’t bother looking back when you shut the door behind you, content to leave it all behind just as the sun begins to rise and set the sky ablaze. By the time it sets again tonight, you hope to be in a different county, in a different state, anywhere that isn’t here. The rest, you’ll just have to figure out when you get there, wherever “there” may be.

—

You had only realized about an hour ago that you’d forgotten your cheap digital watch in the drawer of your bedside table, where it’s laid unused for the past couple of months, because who needs to tell time during the summer? You never had anywhere to be, never had to get to class or turn in a paper by a certain time, so it’s just been collecting dust since you had unclipped it from your wrist on the last day of spring semester. It sure would have come in handy right about now, when you have no fucking clue what time it is. The sun had disappeared behind the hills several mile markers back, so it must be… eight o’clock? Ten o’clock? Fucking midnight? You have no idea. What you do know is that you’re exhausted, hungry, and your feet hurt like hell. You aren’t really sure what you expected, the reality only just now setting in that you don’t even have ten bucks to your name anymore, thanks to your narcissist of a mother. The crumpled up bills you do have in your pocket are hardly enough for a goddamn sandwich, let alone a motel room. The cool night breeze raises goosebumps on your skin, and you swear you can see your fucking breath, even in the middle of August. You wrap your arms around yourself just as tears begin to prick at your waterlines, and you let them fall as you collapse onto the scratchy patch of dead grass on the side of the freeway, not a park bench or a bus stop or even a gas station in sight for God knows how many more miles.

You sit cross-legged, elbows propped up on your knees so that your hands can support your weary head, the skin of your palms becoming slippery with salty tears as your crying just doesn’t seem to stop. The road you’ve found yourself on seems relatively low-trafficked, the heaving sounds of your sobs accompanied by more cricket chirps and rustling wheat than rumbling tires. But a few high beams do streak across your vision every once in a while, coloring the backs of your eyelids a flaming scarlet.

After several minutes, your tears seem to dry up on their own, your body likely too dehydrated now to produce any more. You wipe the moisture from under your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling as you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip and debate if you should just turn back now, give up on your stupid little plan (or lack thereof) and just call the whole thing a loss, pretend it never even happened. Your mother and Rob won’t have even noticed you’d left.

Just as you pull yourself back up to your feet, set on at least finding somewhere that isn’t the hard ground to sleep on tonight before you make your way back home tomorrow, the warm headlights of an old pickup truck are shining bright in your eyes. You put your arm up to block them as the truck slowly squeals to a halt in front of where you’re standing, and you squint your eyes at the driver as your vision adjusts.

“You need a ride, sweetheart?” A man asks in a gravelly voice, and you can still hardly make out what he looks like. Based on the southern accent you pick up on, he doesn’t sound like he’s from around here. 

“N-no, thank you. I’m okay,” you respond shakily, taking a nervous step back from the stranger and his rusted pickup.

“You sure? Looked like you were cryin’ over here, like you might be lost or somethin’.”

“‘M not lost, I know where I’m going.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s that?”

Shit. 

You take a guess.

“Um… the motel down the road,” you reply, tilting your head in the direction you had been walking in.

“There ain’t a motel down there, sweetheart. Ain’t nothin’ in either direction for miles, ‘s all just farmland out here. Reckon you’ve already figured that out, though.”

You pause, unsure of what your next move should be. He knows you’re lying, knows you’re alone with no fucking idea where you are or where you’re going. You could run, but even that shitty truck of his could catch up to you in a matter of seconds. You take another step back, swiveling your head around to look up and down the road as you try to figure your best way out of this.

“Just lemme give you a ride somewhere, darlin’. There’s a diner just off the exit, ‘bout twenty miles up ahead. Could take you that far, at least, get you somethin’ to eat,” he offers. A warm meal does sound pretty good right now, and you suppose you aren’t exactly in a position to refuse his help.

You think on it for a second. “What’s it called? The diner.”

The stranger huffs. “Moody’s.”

“What do they have?” you challenge.

He sighs. “It’s a fuckin’ diner off the side of the freeway, darlin’. They got greasy food and black coffee, ‘s about all you need.”

You don’t say anything.

Then, after a beat—“They got some kinda sloppy mess they call the Thunder Burger. ‘S got onion rings and shit on it. Ain’t half bad.”

You have to admit, he’s passing your pop quiz with flying colors. His answers have been too quick, too specific for him to be lying to you. There’s a pretty solid chance this diner does exist, and that he’s been there before. The man hasn’t said anything that’s indicated he wants more to do with you than to offer you a ride and some dinner. He’s probably just somebody’s harmless grandfather, anyway, judging by his motheaten flannel and gray-stricken beard you can see now that you’ve approached his truck a few paces closer.

“Okay,” you concede, your stomach growling loudly as the man leans over the bench seat to pop open the passenger side door for you. You shrug off your backpack and climb into the cabin, clicking your seatbelt into place as you situate yourself on the cracked leather seat. 

“All set?” the stranger asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, finally getting a better look at the man you might just owe the rest of your life to after tonight. For being somebody’s grandfather, he’s… kinda handsome. Really fucking handsome, actually, in a rugged sort of way. He’s got warm amber eyes that sparkle even in the dark of night, a kind smile that completely disarms you in an instant, and a splintering scar across the bridge of his nose that somehow only adds to his good looks. You try to suppress your own grin as you look away from him quickly, opting to focus on fidgeting with one of the fraying edges of your denim shorts instead. Even in your peripheral vision, you don’t miss how his eyes shift from your own to the exposed skin of your thighs. He doesn’t say anything, just clears his throat as he shifts gears and steers his truck back onto the road again. 

He lets the next few minutes pass in comfortable silence before asking, “You got a name, sweetheart?”

You tell him, and he flashes another charming smile at you. “I like that, ‘s pretty… Well, I’m Joel. Sure you were wonderin’. Now you ain’t gettin’ a ride from a stranger no more, are ya?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m not,” you giggle, and you’re surprised at how comfortable you feel with him. “So… you’ve been to Moody’s before?”

“Handful of times, yeah. When I’m passin’ through.”

You nod. “So you come up here, like… for work or somethin’?”

Joel chuckles. “Or somethin’. You never even heard of the damn place, so… reckon you don’t find yourself out here very often, do ya?”

“No… ‘M not even really sure where ‘here’ is, to be honest. I just kinda… started walking.”

“Ah… a runaway, then, are ya?” Joel asks, with an appreciated amount of understanding in his tone rather than judgment. “‘M sure your folks are missin’ ya right about now, must have your boyfriend worried sick.”

You scoff at that. “Fuck no. They probably don’t even know I’m gone, won’t even bother trying to come look for me. And I don’t have a boyfriend, so…”

“Damn shame. ‘M sorry about that, sweetheart,” Joel comforts, placing a large calloused hand on your thigh. It makes your breath hitch, but his touch isn’t entirely unwelcome. You let him squeeze once at the plush of your leg before he replaces his hand on the wheel, and your cunt spasms out a little fluttering pulse against the seam of your shorts, despite yourself.

The rest of the drive to Moody’s is relatively quiet, save for the gentle crooning of an old country singer emanating from the cassette player on the dash. The soft singing and steady strumming of a banjo combined with the muffled chugging of the truck’s engine is enough to lull you to sleep, especially after the day you’ve had. You know that just about every mental alarm bell you have should be screaming at you to jump out of the car, to run, that sleeping alone in the dirt would’ve been a better decision than getting into this strange man’s—Joel’s—truck, but you’re too tired to hear them. He smells good, like woodsmoke and pine and cinnamon, and if he wanted to do something awful to you, he probably would’ve done it by now. So you trust him, for now at least, and let your lashes fan out against your cheeks as your head falls back against the cushioned headrest, coaxed into sleep by the lullaby of tires against pavement and fingertips against guitar strings.

—

You only rouse when you feel the truck come to a stop about half an hour or so later, slowly blinking your eyes open against the bright neon sign that reads “MOODY’S” in bold capital letters. Your jaw stretches wide as a yawn overtakes the muscles, and you hear Joel’s southern drawl replace the one from the cassette as he shuts the engine off.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead. Not too tired to eat somethin’ now, are ya?”

Another unpleasant-sounding rumble from your empty stomach answers for you, loud enough for both of you to hear this time. The air puffing out of the diner’s kitchen smells strongly of fatty bacon and rich coffee, just like Joel had promised you the place would offer. Although the digital clock on the dash read just after 10:30 before you fell asleep, you’ve never craved breakfast quite like you do right now. You absentmindedly lick your lips as you imagine the sweet and savory—and more importantly free—meal that could be waiting for you beyond that blinding beacon of a sign.

“Well, alright then. Let’s get some food in ya before you keel over, hm?” Joel says as he exits the truck, landing on his feet in the dirt parking lot with a soft groan. He waits by the hood for you to meet up with him, and you walk up the couple of steps to the entrance together. He holds the door open for you, and you offer him a shy ‘thank you’, to which he responds with a soft spoken ‘welcome, sweetheart’. You stand shyly behind his broad form as he asks the hostess for a table for two, and she leads you to a green leather booth tucked into the corner of the diner. She hands each of you a sticky laminated menu, the pages a charming mess of clashing colors and faded pictures and retro-looking fonts, then departs with a promise that your waitress will bring the two of you some water as you take your time deciding on what you might like. 

You light up upon reading that Moody’s serves breakfast all day, and that they can make you exactly what you were hoping for—a stack of chocolate chip pancakes with sides of bacon and hashbrowns. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you wiggle in your seat, excitedly anticipating the waitress to come back around so you can order.

“Whatcha so excited about over there?” Joel asks, eyeing you from across the table as he glances up from his own menu.

“Nothin’, I was just hoping I could get some pancakes, and they have ‘em on the menu,” you explain giddily. “I’ll probably get some coffee, too, really complete the whole ‘breakfast for dinner’ thing.”

Joel huffs through his nose. “Decaf, I hope. ‘S the middle of the goddamn night, sweetheart. Gonna be bouncin’ off the walls in the room later, hardly get any sleep.”

He’s right, you suppose. But wait—“What room?”

Joel shrugs casually. “There’s a decent motel another exit or two down, figured they could probably get us a couple o’ beds for the night. But, ‘m sorry, shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No! No, it’s okay.”

Is it? You only met the man less than an hour ago, and you already agreed to let him give you a ride before you even knew his name. You suppose you hadn’t really thought about what would happen after he bought you dinner, but not thinking ahead seems to have been a theme today, hasn’t it? You remind yourself that he’s only been kind and respectful to you so far, save for that placement of his hand on your upper thigh soon after he picked you up. But that could’ve just been a friendly, paternal gesture, right? And he said a couple of beds, when he mentioned the motel, which seemed to imply that he plans on the two of you sleeping in separate beds, maybe even separate rooms. You’ve found yourself having to make yet another somewhat reckless decision tonight, but one that would be in your best interest to say ‘yes’ to, at this point. What other option would you have if you declined his offer?

“Don’t really have anywhere else to go, so… yeah, okay. Motel sounds good. And decaf it is, I guess.”

Joel’s apologetic expression quickly morphs into a satisfied smirk. “Good girl,” he praises. You like how the words sound coated in his thick drawl, even though you probably shouldn’t. You shift where you sit as that familiar fluttering sensation returns to the seat of your panties, just for a moment. You’re grateful that the waitress arrives at the booth not a second later, cheerily introducing herself as she sets down a glass of water for each of you. When she asks if you’re ready to order, Joel gestures to you as if to say ‘ladies first’, and you politely prattle off your request. You make sure to emphasize that you’d like your coffee decaf, and ask if she could please bring some more of the little cups of vanilla creamer to the table. “Not a problem, honey,” she replies, and Joel winks at you as she asks what she can get for him. He orders the Thunder Burger he had told you about earlier, and a black coffee, which he doesn’t request to be decaf. The waitress leaves the two of you alone again with an ‘I’ll have that right out for ya,’ and you let your eyes follow the calming baby blue color of her dress as she glides her way back to the kitchen. When she disappears around the corner of the bar, you take the opportunity to study Moody’s other patrons. There isn’t another young person in sight, mostly just men around Joel’s age with similarly heavy bags under their eyes, likely truck drivers indulging in their first hot meal of the day within the diner’s comforting wood-paneled walls. You wonder if that’s how Joel knows about this place, because he “passes through” this area on long hauls across the midwest. You open your mouth to ask him if your assumption is correct, but he cuts you off before you can say anything.

“I gotta admit, sweetheart, I’m curious… The hell was a pretty thing like you doin’ out in the middle of goddamn nowhere tonight? I mean, I know you’re a runaway ‘n all, but… shouldn’t you be one o’ those college party girls or somethin’? ‘M sure you got plenty of friends wonderin’ where you are.”

You sigh, shaking your head as you distractedly pick at a splintered piece of wood at the edge of the table.

“I was in college. Was supposed to be going back again this year, but… my mom spent all the fucking savings I had left for the rest of it on fixing up her dumb boyfriend’s car. It’s just been sitting in the fucking lawn all summer, sure as hell not being used for something useful like going to the job he doesn’t have. That bastard…” You say the last part under your breath through gritted teeth.

“Shit… Tha’s a tough deal, baby, ‘m real sorry to hear that,” Joel comforts. “But y’know, everybody’s got mommy ‘n daddy issues, don’t mean you just up and start walkin’ all by your lonesome, not even have any idea where you’re goin’.”

“Well, it wasn’t just that. There was… nevermind, it’s stupid.” You slump into the cushioned booth, silently cursing yourself for even bringing it up.

“What is it?” Joel pushes, sitting up straighter to show you that he wants to listen, wants to get to know you. And God dammit, he might be the first person you’ve met in a long time who actually seems to care about what you have to say, as strange as it is. You flick your eyes up to his face, and he’s wearing a sincere gaze that convinces you to continue.

“There was this girl I went to high school with. She disappeared a couple of years ago, nobody ever found out what happened to her. People figured she probably just ran away, and I thought… I dunno. That maybe she had the right idea, leaving that place behind. I always held onto this hope that maybe she was still out there somewhere actually doing something with her life, that maybe she just changed her name or something and disappeared on purpose.” You pause. “I guess I just thought I might be able to do the same, if I left.”

“I see…” Joel muses sympathetically. “Maybe I oughta give you a lil’ more credit, then. Must’a been tough losin’ a friend like that, not knowin’ where she ended up.”

“I mean, Ruby wasn’t really my friend. She just—”

“Hang on. Ruby, you said?” Joel interrupts, his eyes suddenly looking a little wild.

“...Yeah. Her name was Ruby. Ruby Carpenter.”

—

Fuck.

Joel has to adjust himself under the table, his dick now hardening uncomfortably in his jeans at just the mention of her name. He remembers Ruby, remembers chuckling to himself when he realized the irony of her name matching the color of her blood, remembers watching the news coverage of her disappearance in this very same diner, those handful of years ago. She was a sweet thing, he remembers this, too. It was a shame she had ended up being such a fighter, that she had to get put down the way she did. But she shouldn’t have thrown that fucking rock at his face, called him a sick fuck and a freak as she made her pitiful little escape attempt. Joel is lucky that all he came away from it with is that ugly little scar that mars the bridge of his nose. He can’t say the same for her.

“Why? You heard her name before?” You ask him, an unfortunate little twinkle of hope in your eyes.

“Maybe.” Yes. “Sounds a lil’ familiar, might remember hearin’ about it on the news or somethin’.”

That goddamn news coverage sure as hell taught him a lesson. Joel had spent months trying to keep the cops off his fucking tail after he had dumped her body on some forgettable patch of land behind an old decaying barn. He had even gotten pulled in for a fucking interview at the station in what he now presumes to be your hometown, where they had questioned him for an hour or so about her disappearance. He still isn’t sure how he talked his way out of that one. Ruby might not have been good for much else, other than pissing him the hell off with all of her pathetic crying and begging to just please, please let me go back home, but she did help him perfect his craft, he can give her that much. It’s because of her that Joel makes certain now that any girl he picks up doesn’t have anybody who will miss her or plaster her face on every local channel or send out goddamn search parties to find her. Girls like you.

You’re just so perfect, it would be so fucking easy for him to make you disappear for good, it’s almost comical. It had hardly taken any convincing at all to get you to climb into his truck, had taken even less to get you to agree to go to some seedy ass motel with him that might not even exist, for all you know. It does, but you didn’t even try to test him about it this time, just put all of your trust in him like a stray puppy would to the first person to pick it up off the street. That is just about what you are, he supposes. So far, you seem like the perfect candidate to become his little captive pet. If you keep it up, maybe you won’t meet the same fate as the rest of them. He’d told himself he’d be done after the last one, anyway, his body too old and achy and slow now to chase after the ones who put up a little more fight, like she had. She’d nearly escaped, made it a decent way through the woods and almost reached the main road before tripping on an exposed root and snapping her ankle. He remembers how weak and scared she’d looked before he’d used his knife to put her out of her misery, and it makes his dick twitch. Joel doesn’t plan on snuffing you out, not right now at least, since you haven’t given him a reason to. But his fingers still twitch where they rest on the table, moving out of instinct as he can’t help but imagine what they’d look like wrapped so tightly around your little throat. Would you cry? Would you beg? Would you pray? Would he have to glide his blade across your vocal chords just to get you to stop screaming so fucking loud? He wonders.

“Oh… Was that one of the times you were just ‘passin’ through’ for whatever reason you haven’t told me yet?”

Joel hadn’t realized that his eyes had been unfocused for so long, or that he’d been holding his breath, or that his hand had been squeezing his glass of water so hard he’s glad it hadn’t shattered. The airy sound of your voice brings him back to reality, and he huffs a light chuckle as he fixes his face into a more pleasant expression. 

“Yeah, ‘spose it was.” 

You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Come on, Joel. I just told you, like, my whole sob story. I feel like I deserve to know at least one thing about you now.”

You have a point.

He gives in. “Fine. I got a brother, used to come through this area when I’d pay him a visit. That good enough for ya?”

You cross your arms. “No. What’s his name?”

“Tommy.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Like me. Little younger. Little uglier.”

You laugh at that.

It makes Joel smile.

Maybe you could be the one he’s been looking for all this time. Too bad he had to waste so many others before he finally got to you.

—

The waitress comes back to your table soon after that, with your steaming plates of delicious-smelling food and hot mugs of coffee balanced expertly on a large plastic tray. She sets them down in front of the pair of you with a cheery smile, and you thank her happily when she doesn’t forget the extra sickeningly sweet cups of creamer you had requested. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off you once during the interaction, not even to feast his eyes upon the monstrous burger now sitting before him, not even as he thanks the waitress for delivering it to him. His lingering gaze makes you feel a little warm, but it could just be from the heat radiating off of your plates.

“What? You’re not getting a bite of mine, if that’s why you’re looking at me,” you tease, already getting to work putting the sugary creamer to good use.

Joel just shakes his head, his caramel colored eyes still never leaving you as your coffee begins to resemble their hue. “No, ‘s not why.”

“Whatever,” you reply through a giggle, making a poor attempt to hide your girlish grin behind the lip of your white ceramic mug. 

The two of you eat your meals in relative silence, mostly enjoying each other’s company and basking in the relaxing ambience created by silverware tapping against porcelain, hushed conversations, and the local country station playing through the old radio sitting on the counter. The reception is a little spotty way out here in wherever the hell you are, so you can’t quite tell what song it is. But Joel seems to know, judging by the rhythmic bouncing of his knee under the table that creates little circular ripples in your coffee. Maybe you’ll ask him what it is later, how he knows it, if you can listen to it again in the truck together. He doesn’t seem to be as much of an open book as you’ve already given yourself away to be, and you respect that about him. It doesn’t make you any less curious, but you resign yourself to getting to know him better in the small doses he’s willing to offer you. 

You decide to begin a mental list of all the things you want to ask him later, knowing that by the time you make it to the motel tonight, you’ll be far too exhausted to do anything more than just collapse onto the springy mattress and sleep until you get kicked out of the room the next morning. You almost wish you hadn’t listened to Joel’s request for you to take your coffee decaffeinated tonight, and you still aren’t quite sure why you did. It just feels so strangely easy to give into him, to trust him, to let him make decisions for you. You suppose that’s what you’ve been needing all this time, someone to guide you and understand you and at least pretend like they care about you. Joel has shown you more concern and care and protection in the last hour or so than either of your parents have pretty much your whole life. And he’s good at this, making you feel wanted, making you feel like somebody, even in subtle ways, just by looking at you.

“A’right, why don’t you finish up, darlin’, ‘n we’ll hit the road again. Practically usin’ your pancakes as a pillow over there.”

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize sleepily, waking yourself up enough to make quick work finishing off your plate and your last few sips of coffee. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout, sweetheart. Lord knows you need some rest, won’t be too much longer now,” Joel assures, fishing a few tens out of his faded leather wallet and placing them on the table. He slides to the edge of the booth and stands himself up with only a few pained noises as he straightens out his back, then offers his hand for you to take. You use it as leverage to pull yourself upright, and your hands linger in each other’s hold for a few seconds longer than they need to. The hostess thanks the two of you for stopping in when you pass her by, and Joel opens the door for you again as you leave Moody’s. He opens the truck door for you, too, and promises you that the motel is just another couple of minutes down the freeway. You make an effort to stay awake in your seat this time as Joel begins the drive, opting to gaze out the window and focus on trying to make out the sparkling constellations above the treeline. You smile privately at the moon when you find that she’s following closely behind you just as she always does, bright and full. 

She doesn’t leave your side until you reach the unassuming little roadside motel, which to your gratitude, proudly displays their vacancy on the flickering sign in the parking lot. It doesn’t look like a five star joint by any means, but you know it will serve its purpose just fine. Joel instructs you to stay in the truck while he goes about getting a room for the two of you, and you don’t object. He’d insisted that you didn’t need to be on your feet any longer than you already had been today, and you were too tired to argue with him even if you wanted to. When he returns, he taps lightly on the passenger side window so as not to startle you from the half-asleep, half-awake state you’ve found yourself in, and swings your backpack over his shoulder as he helps you out of the truck. He leads you to the room at the end of the row, and the door takes some finessing of the key and a shove of his shoulder to open. Joel flicks on the light, and you let out a disappointed-sounding ‘oh…’ when it reveals your accommodations.

There aren’t two beds like you had assumed Joel was going to request. There’s only one.

Joel catches your reaction. “‘S this gonna be alright? I know it ain’t the Ritz Carlton, but—”

“No, the room’s fine, it’s not that. I just thought… I just assumed that… I didn’t know it was gonna be, like… just the one bed.” You try to explain your discomfort as gently as possible, without seeming ungrateful for everything Joel has done for you tonight.

He looks at you sympathetically. “I know, I ain’t tryin’ anythin’, I swear. Guy told me it was the last room they had, jus’ figured it was better than nothin’.” 

You offer him a soft smile, but your eyes must still look a little wide as you begin to nervously pick at your fingernails. Joel continues, “I can take the chair if you want, darlin’. Get the bed all to yourself, how’s that sound?”

You visibly relax at that, your shoulders deflating as your smile becomes a little more genuine. “Okay, that’s good. Thank you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. How’s about you take a nice hot shower, rinse off some o’ that dirt you picked up from walkin’ all day… Don’t suppose you got some suitable clothes in here for sleepin’ in?” Joel asks, handing your backpack off to you.

You shake your head. “Just some jeans and t-shirts, and another pair of shoes. And… y’know, some underwear, and stuff.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, then rubs his fingers across his forehead exasperatedly. “I swear… it’s like you didn’t think there’d be a tomorrow or somethin’, girl. Christ.” Joel looks out the window to his truck parked just outside. “Tell you what, think I got somethin’ in the truck you can wear. Why don’t you see if they got anythin’ on the TV tha’s worth a damn, ‘n I’ll be back, alright?”

You nod, “Okay,” then set your backpack down on the drab carpet in favor of picking up the remote perched in front of the small square television. You sit yourself down on the edge of the bed as Joel leaves the room, and begin to flick through the few channels that aren’t just a screen full of snowy static.

Local news. Commercial. Game show. Commercial. Documentary. Commercial. 

Eventually, you land on what seems to be one of those old black-and-white western shows that you can never remember the name of. You only know that the reruns used to play on Sundays around lunchtime, because Rob would always be half paying attention to it with a beer in his hand when you and your mom would get home from church. For how adamant she was that you attend every weekend, she sure never called him a harlot and a sinner for not wanting to go with her. You’re not sure she had ever even tried to get him to go, but he probably didn’t own anything decent enough to wear, anyway. Whatever, fuck them. The show seems like the kind of thing Joel would like, so you let it keep playing. 

He comes back a moment later with a small stack of folded up clothes, tossing them over to where you sit on the bed. You unfold what he’s given you and examine them—a pair of simple pink cotton shorts, and a white tank top with a ditsy floral pattern scattered across the fabric. The clothing is a little more revealing than you’d like, but you figure you’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable wearing them to sleep than the denim shorts you have on now.

“These are… great. Thank you, Joel. But…” you snicker. “Should I be concerned that you have a very convenient supply of girls’ clothes in your truck?” Joel scoffs. “‘S for when I got Tommy’s kid with me, smartass. He’s got a daughter, few years younger ‘n you.”

“Okay, well, I dunno how I was supposed to know that, but… as long as you don’t have a girlfriend who’s gonna come after me for wearing her clothes.”

Joel only chuckles in response, his attention suddenly pulled to the TV.

“Gunsmoke, huh? ‘S a good choice, definitely what I’d classify as ‘worth a damn’.”

You smile to yourself, and his approval makes that warm fluttery feeling return to your belly. “I didn’t even know what it was called, just seemed like something you’d like.”

He turns back to you. “That obvious, huh? ‘S just ‘cause I’m old and southern, ain’t it?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit, making a pinching gesture with your hand.

Joel nods as he makes his way over to the armchair on the corner of the room, collapsing onto it with a groan. “Well, why don’t you go ‘n get yourself all changed and cleaned up, ‘n if you’re quick enough maybe we can finish the episode together and then get some shuteye, hm?”

You swiftly unzip your backpack to retrieve one of your clean pairs of underwear, then bound over to the small bathroom with them and your new change of clothes in hand. It’s not the most spotless one you’ve ever had to use, but you’ve honestly seen much worse. You rinse off quickly in the steaming shower, using the scratchy motel-provided washcloth to scrub the dirt from your legs, stuck to you with the sweat you worked up from God knows how many miles of walking today. 

Today. You can hardly believe it hasn’t even been a full 24 hours since you left home yet. It seems like you’ve already known Joel for days, maybe even years, as silly as it sounds. You wonder if he might just take you in after this, or if he’ll have had enough of providing for you after just one night. He seems like a man of limited means, and he’s already given you so much. If you’re brave enough, maybe you’ll ask him tomorrow, when you get to the ‘so… what now?’ part of your time together.

For now, you step out of the shower and dry yourself off with an impossibly scratchier towel, then pull on your panties and the tank top and shorts Joel provided you with.

Jesus, how much younger is Tommy’s daughter?

The shorts just barely cover your ass, and there’s a sizable gap between their waistband and the bottom hem of your top. The thin, white material of the shirt only serves to accentuate the way your nipples poke through the fabric, but you suppose there isn’t anything you can do about that.

You quietly crack open the bathroom door, and are somewhat relieved to find that Joel’s already fallen asleep in the chair. You do wish you could’ve finished the episode of Gunsmoke with him, but the end credits seem to be rolling already anyway, and you’d rather avoid being seen in your very ill-fitting pajamas. Although, you do wonder if he’d say anything, or if he’d just let his hungry gaze linger in silence again, holding himself back from touching you beyond a comforting pat on the thigh.

You pick the remote up off the bed and use it to make the TV screen sizzle to black, then tip toe over to the lightswitch by the door and turn it off, the room now completely shrouded in darkness. Joel snores softly from the chair as you blindly feel your way back over to the bed, pulling the covers back and nestling yourself underneath them. The bed is surprisingly comfortable, considering, and it doesn’t take long for your exhaustion to catch up with you. Your thoughts become slower and slower along with your breathing, and you’re asleep not even five minutes after your head hits the pillow.

—

The last room they had, yeah, right. You’re just the most pathetic little thing, aren’t you? You’ll believe just about anything that comes out of his mouth if he turns up the ‘southern charm’ dial a few ticks, throws in a feigned apologetic-looking expression for good measure. It’s sad, really. For you, anyway.

Joel fakes his snoring for another thirty minutes or so, until he’s certain you’re sound asleep. He had heard your breath even out almost immediately after you had tucked yourself in, but he had chosen to lay in wait for a little while longer, just to make sure you wouldn’t put up too much of a fight when he made his move. You don’t seem like the type, considering how you’d hardly argued with him at all tonight, like when he had convinced you to forgo the caffeine with your dinner. There’s a reason he wanted you sleepy and subdued tonight, but you didn’t know that. Joel likes how well you listen to him, how easily you do as he asks.

He also likes how warm you are, how small your body is compared to his own, the difference in size especially prominent now that he’s laying snugly against you, his front pressing firmly into the back of you. You don’t wake from his lumbering movement, only coming to slightly when you feel his arm slide underneath your body, his warm hand snaking its way beneath your tiny shirt to squeeze at your plush tits. 

You mumble out a little “Hm?”, which he’s quick to quiet with, “Sorry, darlin’. Chair was too hard on my damn back. Just go back to sleep, ‘kay?” That chair felt like laying on a goddamn cloud compared to some of the other surfaces he’s found himself having to sleep on before, but again, you don’t know that, and what you don’t know won’t hurt you. You probably won’t even remember this in the morning, how his hard cock is slotted so perfectly against your ass, especially without the confines of his thick jeans holding him back. They’re discarded onto the floor now in front of the armchair, along with his flannel shirt and jacket. Joel holds you tightly against his bare, hairy chest as he circles a roughened pad of his finger around one of your nipples, smirking to himself at how quickly the bud hardens from his touch. He knew you wanted this, and the wet spot that the fingers of his other hand are teasing in the gusset of your panties is proof of it. How long have you been leaking for him like this? Had you been soaking the seat of his truck earlier today? Filthy thing.

You still don’t rouse when he pulls your panties aside and slips a finger inside your slick cunt, or when his grip on your tit loosens in favor of sliding up higher under your tank top, his hand coming to a rest around the base of your throat as he pumps his finger in and out of your tight heat. It would be so fucking easy…

But he can’t, he won’t, because you’re not like the others. You want to get to know him, you let him take care of you, you seem to like his company, and you don’t leap out of bed and call him a fucking perv and a dirty old man for what he’s doing to you. That’s what the others would have done. It’s what they have done. And they faced the consequences.

But you’re different. You’re not like them. You’re like him. A lost soul, that’s what you are. Nowhere to call home, no one who misses you or loves you or gives a damn what happens to you. Joel’s mouth had tasted bitter when he had told you about Tommy, or rather, lied about him. Joel hasn’t seen the fucker in years, certainly doesn’t pay him any visits or watch his brat, not since Tommy had learned the truth. You better not show your goddamn face around here ever again, you understand me? Tommy had spat at him. You’re fuckin’ sick. Only reason I don’t turn your ass in myself is ‘cause you’re my goddamn brother. But if I ever fuckin’ see you again, I won’t hesitate. Better make yourself pretty fuckin’ scarce ‘fore I change my mind. That might’ve been about the only time Joel had ever taken orders from his little brother. 

That bitter flavor is cut by the sweet tang of you that he tastes on his finger now, so young and eager and fresh. The hand around your throat squeezes a little tighter, and Joel’s hips begin to move against your ass as he allows himself to suck wet kisses onto the skin under the hinge of your jaw. Softly, gently, so as not to wake you. He could come just like this, using your pliant body in your sleep, rutting himself against your still form with the taste of your pussy on his tongue and his fingers pressed against your pulse points.

He’s close when you stir again, making broken hiccuping sounds as you choke on your breath.

“Shh, shh,” Joel soothes. “You’re alright, sweetheart. ‘S just me. Just—fuck—hold still, go back to sleep, baby.” You let out a quiet whimper, squirming against him just a little bit, but return to your unmoving and silent state a second later. Joel finishes himself off quickly with another couple of shallow thrusts against you, his large hand still gripped around the column of your neck, trying to stifle his groans as he spills into his briefs. He removes his suffocating hand and keeps you pressed tightly against him for a while after that, tanned arms wrapped around your waist and breathing in your scent as he waits for you to settle back down. 

When he’s sure he won’t disturb you again, Joel releases you from his hold and pads quietly back over to the armchair, redressing himself and resuming the position you had left him in. In the morning, if you do remember any of it, you’ll just chalk it up to a very strange dream, one fueled by the desire he knows you’ve felt towards him since he picked you up. You’ll be left with a strange assuredness that he feels the same way about you, without really knowing why. 

But Joel will always know.

—

The digital clock on the nightstand only reads around 8:00 when you’re awoken by a beam of sunlight shining brightly against the backs of your eyelids, streaming in from the window’s lopsided blinds. You had gone to sleep with your back to Joel, but you find yourself facing him now. He looks kind of peaceful when he’s asleep, that permanent furrow etched between his brows finally smoothed out as he dozes. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, but they fall quickly when you adjust your legs and feel the cool dampness against your core, the sensation bringing back the memory of the dream you’d had last night. 

It had felt so real, but it couldn’t have been, could it? There’s no evidence that Joel had really laid next to you last night, that he’d really touched you like that, that you’d wanted him to keep going. It must just be some kind of strange side effect of the affection you feel toward the man who had rescued you, more or less. You’ll likely just part ways after today, anyway, so it’s probably best to just try and forget about the whole thing, put on a fresh pair of underwear and pretend it never happened. 

Joel is awake by the time you’re done freshening up in the bathroom, and he greets you with a raspy ‘Mornin’, sweetheart’ as you retrieve your backpack from next to the bed and shove your ruined underwear into the bottom of it. “You get some good sleep last night?” He asks, rubbing a hand over his eye.

“Mhm, the bed was nice, more comfortable than the one I had at home, honestly.” You finish zipping your backpack closed and sit back down on the bed, pulling on some socks and the lace up sneakers you had been wearing yesterday. “I hope the chair was okay, like, for your back and everything.”

“What makes you say that, baby?”

You pause in the middle of tying one of your shoelaces, turning to look at him with a confused pout. “Didn’t you…? I thought you had told me something about how the chair would be hard on your back. Like, last night.”

Joel frowns, shaking his head. “Don’t think so, darlin’. Chair was just fine.”

“Oh… Well, that’s good.”

Maybe it had just been a dream, then.

Joel hands you a few bills from his wallet, and tasks you with getting the two of you some breakfast from the gas station across the street while he cleans himself up. He tells you that he doesn’t eat much in the mornings, but that you can get yourself whatever you want, as long as you bring him back a carton of cigarettes and a black coffee. You obey eagerly, retrieving what he asked for and getting a pack of miniature powdered donuts and an equally as sugary coffee for yourself.

He’s just stepped out of the bathroom when you return to the room, and your face feels hot when you see him with his dark hair slicked back and wet from the shower. The few strands that fall onto his forehead as he laces up his boots almost make him look a little boyish, despite his whitened temples. 

“Such a good girl, thank you,” Joel praises when you hand him his items. 

You respond with a shy ‘You’re welcome’, but he doesn’t miss how you seem to light up at his words. You plop yourself down onto the worn-in chair that Joel had used as a bed last night, happily munching on your gas station donuts and sipping on your coffee. It all makes you feel warm from the inside out.

But you figure you should find out what the rest of today might look like before you let yourself enjoy the beginnings of it too much.

“So, um… We’re just gonna check out this morning and then… what?” 

“Whaddya mean, baby?”

“I mean… are you just gonna, like… take me to the nearest bus station or something?”

Joel’s confusion is written all over his face, embedded deep into those lines between his brows. You could swear he almost looks a little hurt. “Why would I do that? ‘S that what you want?” He asks softly.

You try to backpedal a little, afraid you might’ve offended him or seemed ungrateful in your question. “I just thought it might be what you want. That you probably have somewhere else you need to be, like Tommy’s or—”

“No, I don’t,” Joel says definitively.

You pause. “Okay, so—”

“You ever been to California?”

His question stumps you for a moment, seeming so random in its nature. “No.”

“You want to?”

You shrug. “I mean… sure. Maybe someday—”

“Why don’t you come with me then, baby?”

You let out an awkward giggle. “...Come with you where?”

“To California. Come with me.” Joel’s tone is genuine but firm.

“Like, today? Are you sure?”

“I mean, we ain’t gettin’ there today, darlin’. But yeah, I’m sure. We both got nowhere else to be, do we? So let’s just go, we’ll see it together.”

You beam up at him, realizing that he’s being serious. Joel does want you, wants you to be his companion, maybe even something more that you’ll discover on familiar-looking back roads and in cities you’ve only ever seen pictures of. 

“Okay,” you agree excitedly. 

Joel nods. “Okay, then. Lemme go check us out ‘n we’ll get back on the road again. Burnin’ daylight already,” he jokes. He carries your backpack out to the truck for you, setting it down between your feet after he opens the door and helps you inside with a stable hand. It only takes a few minutes for Joel to hand in the room key and pay for the night, and then he’s back at your side. You begin to feel like that’s where you always want him to stay. 

“So, where to first, baby? California ain’t goin’ anywhere, can take as long to get there as we wanna. We’ll go wherever you like, take your pick.” Joel leans across your body to dig a folded up map out of the glove compartment, handing it to you. 

You examine it, your eyes darting across the dozens of dots with the names of cities next to them, some you’ve never even heard of. You point to one that you have heard of, but have never been to, because you’ve never even left the state you grew up in before.

“Um… how about Detroit? I’ve heard it’s nice, I think.”

Joel belly laughs at that. “It ain’t, but sure. You wanna go to Detroit, that’s where we’ll go. Buckle up, baby,” he instructs, patting your thigh. You oblige, and it feels good to finally know where you’re going, and that you’re going there with someone who cares about you, who feels safe, who wants you around. You also feel a little hopeful that maybe you were right about Ruby, after all. That you didn’t start walking for nothing, that you weren’t following some childish delusion, that if something as good as Joel had happened to you when you left, that maybe she had found herself on a similar path, ran into somebody good who took her wherever she wanted to go and helped her find someplace she belonged. Maybe she found her way out to California, eventually. What you are certain of is that neither of you ever have to go back to that town ever again, and that feels good, too.

And if it feels good, then it can’t be bad.

tag list: tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @k1l4ni @joelsdagger (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[cielospeaks]

cyl year 7! deets under cut

heres hoping that the winners are at least one person i like. rob (either) would be ideal, esp if they arent possessed lol. i would say corn but recently the corns have just been enforcing the gender route split which i think is really bland bc the whole point of the game is to choose your own route/ect. but yea. out of all the most popular ones theyre the only one id be really interested in

and for the actual cyl pics! elm: goodest boy needs his base version pls! like ok his new years art like i predicted is way better but i just want him. he actually didnt get screwed over writingwise (he didnt get. anything. writingwise but still. thats a step up) so even more reason to want him

renault: the last member of the treble trouble five! please add him soon! i think hes really fascinating in the story of 7, being a man on a redemption arc from like. a really bad path, which you like never see in the fe series (but hey. maybe mauvier or whatever? tbh he gives me hendrik vibes a little). hes fascinating in the story and his supports are a wide range of emotions, from being comical like in bartre’s to being depressing in most of the others. i dont fucking give a darn abt the main villain of 7 but if they add him theyd better add renault too (or alternatively id also take fallen renault when he was still on life essence juice)

amalda: the unofficial sixth ranger of tt5! i also want her to be added soon but idk if ever soon (since shes a route split tho maybe she could be a ghb! please gosh). like renault i think shes really interesting for a character standpoint, shes one of the people who opposed fucking kidnapping children and actually rescued children (and not after helping to kidnap and kill them shaking my head at last years 4 banner specifically), but harbors a guilty conscience bc of the blood she’s spilled as a soldier, and is torn emotionally of whether to stay loyal to friege or not. tbh she and renault have a lot of same energy and i love them both.

jeritza: pre timeskip i am begging. hes just really cool before it, and would make a great ghb (tho thats probably unlikely). just let him keep the mask i am foaming at the mouth. i didnt really care for how he was treated after the timeskip and tbh in general, but i still like his character even tho i have issues w the canon writing. he deserves better tldr

ilios: this year was rally 5 bc i love them and want them added! ilios is fun, and like amalda i feel like he has a good chance to be ghb material (like. if they add fred or whatever his name is? olwen’s friend? they could have ghb of him), he even has a support/conversation/thingy with karin itd be great. (honestly their banter was funny! tho i want that sword guy from 5 too bc i liked the dynamic between him and her lol. and i want halvan too, and dagdar) but yea ilios! hes a fun character, i have noticed i have a soft spot for guys with sticks up their butts lol. i agree w karin tho his obsession w his name and stiff personality is fun to tease

shannam: the funniest boy! the only person in the world who it is ok to call a sussy baka lol. his entire concept of a character is so funny, hes essentially a con man impersonating the prince but hes kind of an idiot and a little flaky. and gosh do i love me a good con man. his friendship w homeros is fun, and oh gosh when mareeta referenced him in her crit line i was like -pointing guy meme- please come home.

homer: chaotic music boy hours! gosh i think he did well last year i would love for him to be added. hes canonically a tome but they could make him a musician dancer like nils that would be fun! (unlikely but fun). hes just the hornyman(tm) but has a laser focus for horny, except the person he tries to be horny with i think punches him and cries bc hes so pathetic so he joins your party. hes a cool grey morality character and i dig that so much. plus his friendship w shannam is very good too. i swear if we got the boys(tm) id cry happy tears (w ghb ilios! that would be the dream lol. amalda ig would have to be gacha cries)

other characters id want to give ones to would be idunn (santa or new years pls), ursula (rearmed please!), touma and yashiro (tms part 2 please!!), iuchar, iuchabra, and arion from 4 (and maybe ishtore and liza too if theyre included. gosh they make me so emo not gonna lie. both bc what happens to them and how they get treated in canon). i dont remember if flech was included but gosh she deserved better too id give her one if i could. not to even get started on characters id just like to see included, like linoan, murdock, elrean, dozla, ect.

[ask4mycashapp]

The pillars reactions to their traine thats super physicaly strong (like raw strength)

Their in a spar match and they just pick them up and bitch slam them on the floor straight on their back 😭

hii, i only write for 4 of the pillars, (mitsuri, obanai, sanemi and muichirou) so if they arent the specific onws you wanted im sorry abt that. here you go though 🤲🏼.

obanai, mitsuri, muichiro and sanemi with a vv physically strong trainee!

obanai:

• uhm excuse me... what the hell???? 🤠

• hes so confused

• if you could body slam the shit out of him why are you trying to train under him???

• like for all that you can rip the demons head off with with your hands! you dont need to learn how to wield a sword from him 😭.

• when oyakata first brought you to obanai to be his trainee he genuinely thought you were weak too ☠️.

• mans was like, "ha look at this dumbass they dont even know how to wield a sword 🥱"

• and you probably heard him bc that body slam seemed so personal-

• hes sorry just dont do that again, hell teach you serpent breath and everything :,).

mitsuri:

• omgomg OMGGGG

• shes always wanted a trainee! shes so exciteddd

• she almost forgot she had to spar with you to test your current skill. she just wanted to get straight into teaching you breath of love or helping you make your own breathing technique!

• but obanai reminded her and here we are now.

• shes still excited though! she even emphasized not to go easy on her, so you sadly had to body slam the nicest woman alive.

• but shes not mad, shes actually so impressed.

• shes extremely physically strong too you know! shed probably challenge you to a sparring match without weapons, who knows who will win! probably not you.

• anyway she thinks youre extremely cool and shes excited to see how strong youll be with a sword!

muichiro:

• see he was supposed to start your training like... last week? he doesnt know, he forgot.

• another thing he forgot, like mitsuri, was that he had to spar with you. unlike her though he didnt forget because he was excited he just deadass forgot.

• once yall were starting and he saw you didnt have a sword he immediately got defensive.

• hes forgetful not dumb, oyakata would not make him train you if you werent strong. so that means if you cant use a sword your probably as strong as the fuckin hulk.

• so since hes prepared, you probably wont be able to get to body slam him, but for the sake of this hc lets say you do.

• hes more annoyed than anything ☠️.

• hes like, "wtf that was mad uncalled for. now my back hurts. i cant even watch the clouds now because it hurts for me to lay down bc of you, dickhead."

• i hc sassy muichirou

• hell forgive you eventually probably.

sanemi:

• i love sanemi i promise not more than muichiro 🙄 but he would be the biggest dh ever.

• hed def be like "now why the actual fuck would i train a dumbass that doesnt even know how to use a sword??? you have to be really fucking talentless to-"

• he got bodyslammed before he could finish.

• contrary to probably what everyone would think, he smiles.

• he probablys like, "okay maybe i was being a douche, you might have a little potential."

• thats the best your gonna get from him so take it.

• in the end you got some respect from sanemi shinazugawa himself, be proud.

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