#i feel like they have a bit of an age difference (idk . its at least 1 year. or more idkkk i havent decided yet LAWL) so they didnt share c

[jjcocker]

ok hi heres The but. Teens

[lambjock]

i think that viewing the little hope relationships as just ‘family’ ( specifically : blood family, ones with traditional roles and relationships, one bred from a nuclear familial structure ) has a habit of dismissing them entirely. it is not blood that binds them together, nor is it family structures, and throughout every iteration of their lives things change. sometimes they’re merely neighbors with a slim portion of blood relation, sometimes they’re bound by flimsy paper or war, and sometimes they’re students at a college following their professor around. the nature of their relationships change, as do their circumstances and surroundings, but they ( as a mismatched unit ) are eternally bound and divided by a child and an inherent, unescapable tragedy. the important aspect of their relationships is that they are agonized individuals who are stuck together and wouldn’t like to be. the important theme between them is that despite their determined suffering, all the bad ways they clash, and in spite of a bubbling self loathing so awful that it literally kills them, they have found love and comfort in each other anyway, or perhaps have realized a love that has always been there. there’s no ‘i love you as a daughter’ between angela and taylor, just as much as there isn’t any ‘i love you as a sibling’ between dennis and tanya. they just love each other. even the clarke family, arguably the most familial bond they have, still isn’t traditional. none of them are blood and all of them are strangers inside their own home. they don’t look alike and they don’t share dna and they typically don’t care for the facade of a family either, more content to treat each other like roommates at best, and that’s fascinating because why would they care? why would standard labels matter to souls as ancient as theirs? it’s just another flesh they adorn, it’s just another pain they’ll carry and shape and hate. idk! i just think forcing titles on it all is rather boring in nature, and actively hinders the genuine relationships there, in an attempt to have a rulebook of sorts to follow. i also just loathe how the found family trope is constantly turned into a literal family, when it was made to spit in the face of a nuclear family structure. but that’s just me <3

[sashi-ya]

𝑪𝑼𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑭𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑫𝑶𝑴 「 part 1 」 soshiro hoshina x f! officer! reader

a/n: yes! first Kaiju no. 8 fic ever! idk how many of you would like to read from Kaiju but I've been obsessed with it lately, and especially with Soshiro. it's pretty short and wrote it cause I needed to think of other things after studying. So yeah, enjoy! tw: there aren't "sex" scenes, however mdni as it has suggestive language, nudity and mature content. (thank god for this manga having almost every character above 25!). Pretty much inspired on Soshi's backstory from Kaiju no 8 side B, so expect fluff too. what happened on the following days? more Soshiro smut, here. masterlist

“I can’t take the suit off” you murmur, trying to lower the front zipper. The mission took much more than what you expected, and the kaiju stench is making you nauseous.

For the time being, most of your squad members have already jumped into the showers. But you, still trying to get out of the suit, haven’t.

“I… this shit… why is it not working?” you protest, forcing the zipper more and more, but it hasn’t been able to go down past the beginning of your chest.

You try to look for the intercom; pressing it to call the Operations leader Konomi, will surely help you out with the captive suit. But, you can’t find it. Did you lose the little intercom before coming back to the base? Or did it fell around there?

Everything seems to be flaunting tonight. It’s late, you are tired. You’ve been hit several times by different Kaiju, but none of them -luckily- was able to injure you.

However, you begin to feel an incredible -and uncontrollable- heat coming from the suit itself and reaching the inner layers of your skin and organs.

You don’t panic. At first.

You definitely panic two minutes later, when the heat is unbearable and the pain in such restrictive jail is almost deadly.

“Help…” you whine, not loud enough to be heard by anyone else. Or at least, definitely not enough to be listened over the lively chattering coming from the showers.

But it hurts, as much as the acid of those despicable monsters when their core explode. And it really begins to interfere with your breathing, and thus, with your consciousness.

“Help me… I’m burning…” you scream louder this time. But no one comes, and your knees hit the ground in pain.

Tears flood up your eyes, your nails aren’t enough to tear the thick skin of Izumo Techs’ innovative suit. No guns are enough, probably, even if you had the chance to go grab yours… it wouldn’t be useful.

You pray, you wish for someone to cut that trap into pieces.

“H- help… me…” “WHAT IS IT?!”

In between blurred eyes and painful frown, you device an angel of slanted eyes and deep purple hair.

“I… the suit… it’s boiling… it’s overheating… I can’t take it off” you grasp a little bit of air and try to communicate -effectively- the reason of your suffering.

“Stay quiet” he commands, and you comply. There is nothing you wouldn’t do to go against his orders.

An immediate relief comes with enough cuts that you couldn’t even see. Completely naked, completely soaked in sweat. There you lay, panting, with still stings of pain reverberating all over your skin.

“Come here” he says, ripping the remaining pieces off the suit still ferally attached to your burning skin. And as feral as the suit is, the feral his hands are when ripping its pieces away.

“Vice-captain Hoshina… th-thank you…” you cry, completely unaware of your impure show off.

His eyes open widely, and for the first time you see the beautiful bloody irises he usually keeps hidden away. But his expression is not jovial, nor even neutral. He is by far worried.

Probably for the first time in ages, the blades have fallen to the ground and with those same hands he saved your life he hurries to carry you to the men’s showers.

At the speed of light, cold water begins to gush from the showerheads. Your body feels instant relief; so much there is even some vapor coming from your skin.

As it bathes you, it also bathes him.  Completely dressed, Soshiro gets drenched in the same water as you. And, as his hair becomes wet, one of his hands moves it out of his face, revealing his façade completely.

Your arms hang from his shoulders into his back. Your knees, fight to keep you standing up even if the one actually holding you up is no other than him.

Soshiro is completely mute, and so do you. There is, maybe, no need to speak.

He lets his jacket slide through his shoulders to finally fall into the shower’s floor. The compressive shirt underneath gets also wet, becoming something like a second skin of him. Showing off the hours of training, and why he is the vice-captain of your division.

Immorally, you that were on the brink of death a couple of minutes ago, now feel in heaven because of your saviour. Because of your blades wielding hero.

Once again, he was able to save a life with those thinly cut masses of iron.

His hand, with soft but still steady pace, clean something off your back. And for that your breasts are pressed against his chest. You can see his neck from the side, as he tries to take a deeper look at your shoulder blades. You inhale the scent of his skin, a mix of sweat from the last battle and manly hints of fresh perfume.

“You got them almost engraved on your skin. What the fuck? The suits aren’t supposed to hurt you this way” he whispers, close to your ear. “We should go to the medical pavilion, now” he adds.

You nod, feeling how everything has started to spin around you and your stamina decreases more and more.

“Thank you, Soshi- Hoshina fuku Taichou…” you babble, realizing your faces are closer that what they should ever be and your arms and his are interlocked pretty strongly to the other’s body.

He takes a deep breath through his tiny nose, looking at you with lazy eyes. Just a tiny line of red is visible, as tiny as the opening of his lips that let prominent fangs barely flash.

Soshiro’s chest goes up and down, harder every time. His muscles tense more and more, especially the ones on his neck. His hug gets even tighter, pulling you so closer that ever before.

“It’s… ok…” he barely words; something is affecting that man… and it’s probably all your body, all your still warm skin being his for at least a couple of minutes, the way your lips have become red and pouty, your sloppy eyes and the warmth of your breath closer to his mouth.

“What happened!!??” “Vice-captain?!” “are you two allr-“ the girls scream in terror. Probably, once they were out of the showers they faced the dantesque scenery of blades lying on the ground and a anti kaiju suit completely destroyed and fuming scattered all over the floor.

Within seconds, not only the officers of squad 3 have reached the place but also the men. Some of them, thinking not the worst… but probably that Hoshina fuku Taichou and you have finally caved in for lust.

With a fast reaction, Soshiro grabs the coat of his own uniform to cover you up. And with a much more severe tone ever heard, he orders Kikoru to call Mina and Okomi and let them know he is taking a badly injured officer to the medical pavilion. As for the rest, a scary deadly look over his shoulder was enough to make them run away from the place allowing him to pass.

You, however, couldn’t quite experience such happenings, as your consciousness had fade away right before your comrades arrived.

A soft white light shines in between your shut eyes; the sound of unknown solitude reaches your ears as well as the synchronic beep of your heart reflected on a machine.

“What-“ you mumble, regaining consciousness. Your body feels cold, and you are thankful for that. Your limbs are heavy, but you can move them. Your lips and mouth are dry, but you smile as you remember vague flashes of Soshiro and you under the shower.

You finally open your eyes to discover you are indeed at some kind of medical facility, soon remembering this is the place you all come when you are severely injured after battle.

Everything on your body seems to be on its place, and for that you breathe alleviated. Thankful to your hero, you wonder how to thank him when you are out of here… or maybe, you just plan to leave the squad as he has seen you completely naked.

“I didn’t know you were awake already” a well-known voice scares you away. You try to stand up, but his hand stops you from doing so.  “I couldn’t sleep, I was worried for you” he says, with that sweet funny tone he often uses to communicate.

There is, as far as you could see, anyone around but you and him. Soshiro, who apparently couldn’t sleep, has come to see you.

Your cheeks burn, and it’s not because of a defective suit now. It is because, you are deeply embarrassed, and still, something inside you is jumping with genuine happiness to see him here.

“I’m ok, Sir. But.. you didn’t have to come! I’m deeply thankful for you saving my life, and I promise you I will replace the uniform you got all wet” you say, trying to look away from him who has came closer to your bed.

Soshiro bursts out laughing, the way he only knows how to. He grabs his stomach, and soon flashes of the way those abs looked with wet fabric sticked to them, makes you shiver.

“You- you should worry for your own suit! Not mine!” he continues laughing while, little by little, he ends up sitting right on the bed. “By the way, you know why your suit almost killed you?” he asks.

You swallow. What- why is he sitting next to you?

 You shake your head in denial, out of words, because you couldn’t think of a reason for such big flaw on that impressive technological miracle.

Soshiro, who is well known for being at least a little bit irreverent -and that’s exactly what you love the most about him-, gets himself comfortable next to you. He lies back, as you move to the side to make him some space.

Now, the scent of his skin is clean and delicious -even more than earlier-. And you can smell it, because there isn’t much room to be separated on a single bed.

“Well… you had a piece of Kaiju tooth stuck on your lower back. Therefore, the suit either processed it as a threat or… it reacted with the pieces of kaiju within it. In any case, you will be given a new one in a couple of days” he tells you, with his right arm stuck underneath the back of his head.

His bicep, perfectly moulded to be strong, but still lightweight to be as agile as possible, protrudes with the hem of the compression shirt around it. Does he really know how sexy he looks? Or he is absolutely unaware of the effects he has?

“Oh…” you sigh. You take it as a personal failure; how were you not able to see it? “Don’t worry, this incident helped them to investigate further security measures… however, isn’t your back hurting?” he asks, this time turning to you.

You deny, again, without any words coming from your mouth. But there isn’t much you could do, when Soshiro turns you around so that your back faces him.

“You do, in fact, have a big bruise. I should report this, too” he comments, as his soft index travels down your spine, to the small of your back.

Your eyes, opened big enough to look like moons, have stopped seeing all around and all you can think of is the proximity of that man to you.

“You good?” he murmurs, ignorant of everything happening to your body. “Ye-yes, vice-captain. I wanna thank you for taking care of us the way you do; hadn’t been for you, I’d be dead by now…” you pull those words from who knows where, even if your muscles seem paralyzed from his touch. Your speech sounds like those you give when you follow commands during battle.

He laughs; this time softer and sweeter. You can feel his body coming closer, enough to feel the tip of his nose grazing your neck.

“We should have each other’s backs in here, or else… but most importantly, being told my blades will not be useful to fight and protect, you remind me once again that they indeed can” he whispers, making your skin shiver.

It’s clear that he wants you. And you want him, too.  And you always knew, and he always knew. And all of them, too.  Why, just now, on a place where you should be monitored, there were nobody around if not?

“Can I rest here for a minute?” he asks, as his forehead lands on your nape. “All the time you want, Vice-captain” you answer back, smiling softly.

You slowly relax, as his hand slides in the most delicate way towards your belly to hug you. Your hand, also delicate, fall on top of his, confirming how much you would love for him to touch you like this forever.

“Call me Soshiro when we are like this, ok?” he murmurs, planting the first kiss right on your shoulder.

You turn around, slowly. Even if you would love to stay the way you were, you can’t stop yourself from wanting to see his face.

“Soshiro…” you whisper, coming closer to his lips. “That’s better…” he smiles, kindly.

And one kiss, and then another came by… and thankfully, that night, there were no more Kaiju around.

[splinterclan]

what is the clan's relationship with the warrior code. Because they don't really seem too strict about it.

I just went and copy pasted the Warrior code from the WC Website and I'll put what percent they follow that rule after each one (never actually read the warrior code so this is fun jsjs)

1. Defend your Clan, even with your life. You may have friendships with cats from the other Clans, but your loyalty must remain to your Clan, as one day you may meet them in battle. - 100%

2. Do not hunt or trespass on another Clan’s territory. - 100%

3. Elders and kits must be fed before apprentices and warriors. Unless they have permission, apprentices may not eat until they have hunted to feed the elders. - 100%

4. Prey is killed only to be eaten. Give thanks to StarClan for its life. - 100%

5. A kit must be at least six moons old to become an apprentice. - 100%

6. Newly appointed warriors will keep a silent vigil for one night after receiving their warrior name. - 100%

7. A cat cannot be made deputy without having mentored at least one apprentice. - 90% Was lax for Moor since the clan started without any apprentice age kids, but will be 100% for every deputy after her

8. The deputy will become Clan leader when the leader dies or retires. - 100%

9. After the death or retirement of the deputy, the new deputy must be chosen before moonhigh. - 100%

10. A gathering of all four Clans is held at the full moon during a truce that lasts for the night. There shall be no fighting among Clans at this time. - 0% There's 5 clans total around, but their territories are so massively far apart it's really not feasible for them to visit each other at all (like, miles apart - Oakclan is a 2-3 day journey from Splinter's camp). Every clan interaction in the game I interpret as happening with wandering rogue groups instead

11. Boundaries must be checked and marked daily. Challenge all trespassing cats. - 100%

12. No warrior may neglect a kit in pain or in danger, even if that kit is from a different Clan. - 100%

13. The word of the Clan leader is the warrior code. - 80% ish? the clan is just way too small for there to be the separation that is required for dictatorship effect. It's more like a family where your dad "sets rules" but you know he won't beat your ass if you disobey them, but you mostly obey them anyways bc you love him (Whorlstar is their dad)

14. An honorable warrior does not need to kill other cats to win his battles, unless they are outside the warrior code or it is necessary for self-defense. - 100%

15. A warrior rejects the soft life of a kittypet. - 100% They won't go near or take food from humans - even when Cedar lived near one for a bit, he never took food from them.

So apparently they follow it pretty well? There seems to be a lot of unspoken rules in WC (like don't have kits with outsiders etc. Med cats can't have kits) That aren't on this list, so I guess they're not official? Idk xD I've said this before, but I have only read the first series of books so I don't have the fullest knowledge, but I do feel like with WC-based stories stuff like having the Med Cat get in trouble for having kits or half-clan relationships being persecuted are dumb rules anyways so I'd just rather write about something else

Plus clangen itself has no internal code for punishing that kind of stuff so it's all free game there too luckily ^^

[beardedjoel]

smother - part ii: resistance

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: joel knows how to break you just right, to get you feeling helpless enough to accept what he believes you need. somewhere deep inside of you, you think you might like it. 10.9k words (sorry) chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! noncon, nonconsensual touching, dubcon - reader eventually enthusiastically consents but the syndrome is stockholming so its dubcon, reader is a virgin, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55) masturbation (m), nipple play/groping, manipulation, joel def has a corruption kink, joel gets a bit violent in this chapter, y'all get a lot of touching and (kissing), if these darker tags aren't your cup of tea please keep scrolling! a/n: okay i'm even more nervous about this chapter than the first, idk how it got so long but i really hope its tense and enticing for you all! i love writing dark joel, this has been such a thrill so far tbh! get buckled in for heavy duty smut next chapter too ✌️

Light spills in around the thick, heavy curtains, drawn tightly shut. Just a glowing sliver on the edges and underneath, telling you it’s at least well into the morning, that you’ve been asleep for longer than you’d expected to. Your brain is a scrambled, hazy mess from the way you’d finally been able to pass out, still encumbered by Joel’s grasp holding you down. After a while his heaviness had a calming effect, the opposite of what you’d ever thought would happen when he first came into your bed last night. But now, he was nowhere to be found, the other side of your bed cold and empty, such a stark difference that you start to wonder if maybe you’d imagined it, dreamed it all last night. 

You get up to let some light from the day in, your eyes burning as they adjust and you see that it looks to be late afternoon already. How many hours had you been out for? 

Recollections of the night before flood your brain - Joel’s warmth pressed so close to you, his hard body molding softly into yours like he knew how to keep you safe, take care of you, just like he’d said. Yet there’s still an unease surrounding the thoughts, that he’d made the decision for you, came into your bed and lied. It sends a shiver up your spine, half thrill and half fear as you contemplate what you should do next. Maybe plotting a way to Jackson is the right move, but something about Joel was keeping you here, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on yet. It was more of a feeling, something indescribable that came over you when thinking about him. 

Could he really save you, like he said? Or was he just a sick old man with a fantasy? One he’d fulfill before tossing you out just as easily as he’d taken you in.

You sigh heavily and sit on the edge of the bed for a few moments, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You finally decide you have to leave this bedroom sometime and face Joel again to see if those same confusing feelings from last night persist, or even to clear the air between you two. You freshen up a bit with a toothbrush and homemade toothpaste that Joel had left out for you before fixing your hair to an acceptable enough level. You creep out of the bedroom, soft and quiet movements with socks padding your feet as you listen to hear what Joel is up to downstairs. No sounds of cookware or silverware clinking on plates, no rustling on the pages of a book, no distant sound of him chopping wood outside again. Until you do hear something. 

A sound almost in between a whimper and a groan, and it’s right there, the door diagonally down the hall from yours. You freeze, brows knit together as you wait to try to hear it again. The next time you hear it, it’s more urgent, more gruff, a loud exhale. Was it a pained sound? You couldn’t quite tell as you walked closer, noticing the light spilling from a crack in Joel’s door out into the dim, windowless hallway. 

One peek through the opening in his door has your eyes widening. A gasp sticks itself in your throat but you clap your hand over your mouth when you take in the sight before you. Shit…

All your eyes immediately focus on is Joel’s cock, heavy and thick, hanging out of his pants in a tight grasp in his hand. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, practically in perfect view through this open sliver in the doorway. His eyes are closed, lost in the moment as he grunts a little bit more. You avert your eyes almost immediately, standing frozen with your cheeks burning. You’re not completely unaware, and you do have an idea of what he’s doing. You can’t help but flick your eyes back to him as another strained exhale leaves his lips, your eyes drifting down to where he’s sliding his hand in quick jerks. His cock is pink and slick as he runs his hand along it, and you start to tune into the lewd, sloppy sounds that it's all making as flesh hits flesh over and over again. You squirm in place, feeling your knees go a bit weak before you finally notice it. 

Your underwear. 

It feels like something screeches to a halt inside of you, everything moving in slower motion for a few seconds as this information sinks in. Joel’s face, turning more red and eyes rolling back as he pumps his cock with your underwear from yesterday in his other hand, a fist tightly wrapped around the material. You shudder, but find the little zing traveling further to a spot right between your legs, making you clench your thighs together tighter.

It’s all so… so… a feeling you can’t quite explain that starts to make your skin hot, and a scene you don’t know if you want to stop watching. You are just curious after all, you lie to yourself in those few seconds of continued peeking on Joel’s private moment.

You sense a difference in his movements, flashing your sight up to his face where his eyes are open now, gaze locked on yours, heavy lidded as a smile plays on his lips. He doesn’t stop, though, like you thought he would, and it practically steals the breath from your lungs. 

“Oh… sh- sorry,” you blurt out, panicky and quiet before you can think about it, covering your eyes with your palm and hastily pulling the door shut. 

Joel can’t stop smiling, a wry, devilish thing as he continues in fast, long strokes on his cock. You knowing exactly what he’s doing in here is only urging him on even more, the look in your eyes as he’d caught your stare on his glistening, ruddy cock making him harder. 

His smile grows when he realizes you haven’t stopped enjoying the show, not at all, despite your appearances of shutting the door behind you. What he realizes you don’t know, is that he can see the shadow of your feet underneath the door, tiny, anxious movements that catch the light and cast shadows. 

If you want to listen, he’s surely not going to disappoint you, another little groan slipping past his lips and he tightens his grip and speeds up, picturing you in his mind. He can practically see it now, one of your perfect little hands clasped over your mouth outside his door, trying not to make a peep, your body rigid as you lean closer to listen. Those perfect little hands that should never have to lift a finger, should always be taken care of. A pulse of pleasure wracks his body at the thought of him being the one to do that for you. 

“Fuck,” he whispers hoarsely. “Fuuuuck…”

A few more swift tugs on his length and he’s stuffing your underwear right at the head of his cock, thrusting once and cumming hard into the fabric with a loud moan, the only thing on his mind the mental image of you in nothing but these. 

He’s not too weak to admit he’s already completely addicted to you. Your pretty face, the way you’d finally given him those few little smiles yesterday. How you fit so wonderfully in his arms last night once you’d decided that you needed him. Joel knows he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you as his, to make sure you understand just what you need, how you need him. He sighs as he leans back a moment, then stares down at your underwear, his creamy release staining it now looking like one of the most beautiful sights. To paint you with it himself would nearly kill him, send him into a point of no turning back. No, there’s no doubt now that he’s addicted to this… And god help anyone who tries to take it from him, even you.

The moment you hear Joel’s longer, drawn out groan you scurry away, light as can be on your feet and tiptoe down the stairs in a hurry. The mortification you’d feel if he opened the door to you standing there listening in is more than you can bear. You wish you hadn't been curious, hadn’t wanted to stop and stare just to watch just a bit longer. It wasn’t your fault that you felt completely embarrassingly lost when it came to… sex, but you know it was wrong to invade Joel’s privacy like that. He had left the door cracked, hadn’t he, though? Your brain devours the information, barely able to latch onto that train of thought before the next one comes barreling in. 

You pace back and forth in the kitchen, hands wrung anxiously over and over again in front of you. You gaze at the staircase practically every millisecond, waiting for Joel to come down, wondering if he will. You two have to confront this, right? He knows what you saw, and you certainly know what you saw, the image burned into your mind now. All the details seem hazy in your panic, but all you can think about is your underwear in his hands, and how your current pair feel damp now against your own will. You’d felt this before - attraction and arousal - but not like this. You had been so close to everything this time, not just hearing stories or thinking about kissing a boy you thought was good looking. This was a full fledged man, pleasuring himself right in the next room to you. It makes you break out in a sweat, your body hot and breathing shallow as the floorboards creak under your rushing movements. 

You sigh and continue pacing for another moment before trying to make yourself busy by putting on the kettle, maybe to make some tea, something to calm your frayed nerves. If Joel didn’t wind up kicking you straight back out into the wilderness after that debacle, you’d be surprised. Maybe you should think about kicking yourself out to avoid any of this awkwardness. You make a split second decision to grab your things and go, your first steps out of the kitchen interrupted by heavy footfall upstairs, lazily making its way down to you.

You stand frozen, your plan quickly forgotten when you see Joel, moving with confidence, his steps nonchalant and unhurried as he approaches with a satisfied look on his face. Not angry, not embarrassed, just a casual, almost smug look plastered on his features. You look at a spot past him before dipping your eyes to the floor, your face already heated and flushed. He’s wearing jeans again but this time with a plain, moss green henley shirt rolled halfway up his forearms. Another shirt showing off his strong, muscular form, and it’s killing you inside, especially now that you’ve seen just that much more of him. 

“Sit,” he says plainly, finishing his walk to the kitchen table where he pulls out a chair, settling himself down. When you dare to glance in his direction, he’s giving you a look that sends a shudder up your spine, already knowing he’s about to ask much less nicely if you don’t heed his words. Your shaky hand pulls out a chair, perching yourself on the edge, hands holding on to one another for dear life in your lap. You feel like a child about to be scolded for doing something naughty, and you suppose in many ways that’s exactly what’s happening right now. 

“J-“ you start, with Joel cutting you off before you can even get a syllable out. 

“You enjoy listenin’ to that little show? Gettin’ a little peek?” Joel asks smoothly, a hint of irritation but also gratification in his tone. He leans forward onto the table with his forearms pressed against the wood. 

“N-no I didn’t… I mean I didn’t see much. I didn’t hear… I swear. I’m really sorry, that just made things so… uncomfortable…” you ramble on, feeling like a bumbling idiot as you’re sure your body is about to catch fire. 

“Did it?” Joel asks, eyebrow lifted in casual questioning. It makes you stop, your lips sitting parted with words you can’t express, clouded by confusion. 

“Well… didn’t it? I’m - I don’t know what’s… normal… That didn’t feel…” Your eyes search his face wildly, and you know he can see you, trembling like a fawn stood in the clearing of a forest just before it bolts. 

Joel sighs out a long exhale. “Seems like you enjoyed it, standin’ outside my door.” He states it as a fact, not a guess, and your stomach twists as it sinks. How he knows is beyond you, and you can only sit in your shame now, eyes fixed downwards on the table. You’ve never found knots in wood so interesting before as you stay transfixed by the glossy surface.

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of. Just curious, weren’t ya?” he says, his voice rumbling softly. His hand inches towards you across the table and you finally get the nerve to look up at his eyes. They’ve gone gentler, full of understanding. You’re sure your expression gives everything away, your shock, your intrigue at what you’d witnessed. “Weren’t you?” he asks again, and you finally give him a little nod.

His lips twitch upwards in a wry grin just as the kettle starts to whistle, the sound ramping up rapidly into the silent room. You both stare at each other for a few moments, still processing your answer to him. The screeching reaches a fever pitch, making your skin start to crawl, so you push your chair out in a hurry to grab it off the stove. Joel’s hand shoots out, his large hand snatching your thigh, fingers wrapping around and digging into the flesh through your sweatpants. You halt, your ass plopping right back into the chair as Joel stares at you through narrowed eyes.

“I’ve got it,” he says sternly. He waits a moment longer, making sure you’re fully seated and about to heed his words before standing up. The kettle is at a deafening scream, but Joel seems in no hurry, sauntering over to the stove. You breathe out a sigh of relief as the sound tapers off, Joel setting the kettle to the side while he busies himself with reaching up to some open shelving along the wall where you see several jars full of different types of tea leaves. He’s silent, moving slowly, as if to make you sweat it out, and you admit that his plan is working. You don’t know the last time you felt such an odd, burning fear inside of you. Different than facing infected, than being so hungry without knowing where your next meal is coming from. It’s primal, deep down inside of you, meek little claws in a vice grip at the core of you, a burning that travels downward repeatedly, right between your legs. You notice you’ve started trembling without even realizing it.

He brings a steaming mug over, setting it on the table in front of you. It smells mainly of chamomile, maybe some lavender - you see Joel read your mind on wanting something for your nerves. Instead of retaking his seat across from you, he walks around the table, doing a slow, deliberate lap. His feet, although shoe-less, make an impact along the floor, and you feel like each one sounds like a drum along with the way your heart is beating in your ears. He circles back and pauses behind your chair, sliding his forearm across your chest, tucking it close to your neck.

You really were trapped now. Not just by your own mental doing, unable to make yourself leave at the first sign of trouble with this man for god knows what reason, but truly, physically ensnared by his embrace. His arm wraps tighter across the top of your chest, his hand squeezing on the shoulder where it snakes around.

“Tell me…” he leans closer, lips coming to your ear, a hint of a smirk in his tone although you can’t see his face now. “That the first cock you ever seen? Or just the first time you seen one like mine?” 

Your head swims, unsure of how to answer. He has you trapped with this question, either answer damning to you. You sputter and scoff out a chuckle, shaking your head. 

“No, you say? Which one, honey, c’mon it’s a simple question.” His arm tightens, fingers digging in along your shoulder. “No judgement here, just a curious man, thas’ all.” He says the words as if he’s expectant of a certain answer for you, following a hunch and looking to confirm it for himself. He knows, he knows, he knows. He knows you so effortlessly, reads your mind like it’s the simplest thing in the world. You worry he sees right through you right down to your debased thoughts, the ones where you give in to him and these foreign feelings you want to chase.

You shake your head again. “I haven’t…” Your cheeks burn with the confession, hoping he won’t make you actually say the words. You struggle uncomfortably in his grip, his scent invading your senses now as well, mint and leftover coffee from this morning and your stomach burns so hot you think you might be sick now. He responds with a tighter grasp, his arm starting to press a bit on your windpipe.

Joel blows out a breath, the sound nearly grating next to your ear. “Never seen a cock before till today? Till you saw mine the way you did? That so, darlin’?” He sounds amazed, excitement creeping into his voice. 

You swallow hard, fighting back tears, but you nod for him. “Y-yes…” you admit with a shaky voice, willing yourself not to cry again in front of Joel. 

“Oh, hey, hey, that’s okay. Must be an awful lot to see it jus’ like that, no context for any of it…” he murmurs, his voice oozing a sick sympathy as you sense his excitement building. “Shouldn’t have had to see it as a surprise. If it were up to me, darlin’, I’d have made sure it was perfect. Y’would’ve been amazed by the things a cock like mine can do for ya.”

He tuts quietly, his lips grazing along the shell of your ear. You squirm a little, your breathing picking up as you strain against him. You remember how much you’d liked his lips right under your ear last night, how badly you’d wanted to hate it, but here you were yet again, enjoying it. 

“Now I’m gonna ask you somethin’, honey, and I want you to be honest with me, mkay?” Joel says. Your options feel limited so you motion with a nod for him to go on, his arm digging into your throat further when your head bobs down.

“Be honest, now, remember.” He squeezes your shoulder hard. “How old are ya, honey?” His lips graze your ear again and your legs tense, thighs pressing together. You nearly have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the little moan that wants to slip out of you. 

You chew your lip, telling him the truth before you can even think about it too hard. “I’m nineteen.” You don’t know why you tell him the truth, why you give him any part of you, but you do. 

“Hmm,” he murmurs in a low little groan. His fingers brush along your shoulder, across your chest a bit, loosening his tight grip. “Thank you for tellin’ me the truth, sweetheart. I appreciate that.”

“H-how old are you?” you ask in return, getting a haughty chuckle from Joel. 

“Older’n you,” he says simply, a little growl caught in the back of his throat as his nose buries itself in your hair, taking in a deep breath.  

“B-but I told you…” you whimper a little as he tightens his hold again, leaning further to press his head into your shoulder and neck. 

“Why d’ya wanna know? Wonderin’ why an old man like me is gettin’ your panties wet?” he asks, amused at your expense, knocking you down just one more peg. 

You blink hard and feel yourself flushing again, warmth radiating throughout your body all the way down to your fingertips. You’re angry that he seems to know every damn thing about you, and you feel like you know nothing about what he’s thinking. “I don’t understand… any of it. Why -“

“It’s all natural, sweetheart. Happens when you find yourself likin’ what I’m doin’,” Joel tells you, voice starting to sweeten like honey. His hand strokes your hair, smoothing the sides. 

“I know…” you bite back, only to feel Joel move his forearm closer to your neck. Your breath hitches. “I just mean… I - I want to know how old you are.”

“You persistent little thing…” He smirks again, looking impressed by you. “I’m in my fifties, that’s all y’need to know.” He pauses for a brief second, not wasting a second to keep contact with your skin, his calloused fingertips stroking along the hollow of your neck. They trickle down, gentle and fluid as water as he ghosts along your chest and over your stomach. You shudder and try to keep your eyes open, succumbing to the pleasure of it all - nobody has ever touched you like this, taken their time to feel you out and seem interested in every part of you. It’s a slow, tortuous movement while his arms reach down over you, thick muscles on display, until his fingertips brush along your waistband. They trace back and forth along the crimped edges of the band, tied tightly. He plays with the strings, a clear contemplation to untie them any second. It makes you start to tremble even more, the way you feel powerless and know you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to.

Joel abruptly stops, pulling his arms back before he starts to walk around the chair, standing in front of you now. He doesn’t crouch to your height, standing tall and proud as he towers over where you sit. His fingers reach forward slowly and gently, thumb and forefinger taking your chin delicately, holding it like something he might break. You can finally see his expression, look into his eyes, and they’re a dark abyss full of mystery and that hungry look he’d flashed at you a few times yesterday. 

“Get the sense you’re feelin’ a bit scared right now, hm?” he suddenly asks.

You swallow and then nod for him, eyes barely blinking as you try to keep track of every single movement he makes. His grip on your chin flashes tighter for just a moment before he lets it go, leaving a little red mark in his wake.

“Good girl.”

Your stomach turns as you realize he wants this, wants your fear to permeate the room so he can devour it, to know that he has this hold on you. Joel leans forward, one hand planted on the table next to you, the other coming down to rest on your thigh. He’s tender in his touch, letting his hand soothingly find its way up your leg.

Joel’s eyes bore into you, trying to capture your attention and hold it, but you can barely summon the courage to look into those dark pools, worried they’ll draw you in forever. Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on your shaky inhales and exhales as Joel’s hand rubs your thigh.

“Don’t you like it, sweetheart? Feels good to be touched here, doesn’t it?” You don’t answer him, eyes squeezed shut even tighter, a quiver starting on your lips. You try to ignore the way your body responds to the touch, skin blazing right where he’s touching and that pooling of heat starting between your legs.

“Now c’mon, open your eyes f’me. I want to take care of you, honey. Jus’ like we agreed to last night. You need me to take care of everythin’ for ya, never make you have to worry or lift a pretty little finger again. I can show you everything.” Joel pauses, waiting to see if you’ll heed his command. His hand wraps a little tighter around your thigh, fingers squeezing.

“I said… look at me. Open your eyes. Nothin’ to be afraid of.” His voice has a shake to it from trying to keep it even amongst his building frustration, his desire to have you under his thumb already. You finally brave it, your eyes opening slowly to find a softer smile playing on Joel’s lips as his face comes into focus, just a few inches from yours now.

“I want you all to myself… d’you understand what I’m sayin’?”

You nod. His smile grows, much more foreboding now.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, fingers squeezing your thigh again, brushing his thumb along the inner part, sending a set of sparks hurtling up your spine. “And you’ll stay? Won’t try to get away from me, will you?” he asks, a wicked raise of his eyebrow telling you there’s only one correct answer here.

Your face falls a little bit. “Wh- what would you do if did?” you dare to ask.

He laughs, a mirthless chuckle before he can even stop himself. “Oh, honey, what’re you gonna do? Where’ll you go? You wouldn’t get barely ten steps outside this door ‘fore I got to ya.” His eyes pierce yours before studying your face for a few moments, challenging you. “Best that you don’t even try, yeah?”

You don’t reply, hoping that the fear in your eyes and trembling lips are answer enough for him.

“Come and sit w’me, how about that? I’ve got a few more questions for you.” Joel offers you his hand and you pause, eyes fixed on his tan, rough skin - hands that have worked hard for an entire lifetime. He takes the initiative to grasp your hand instead, giving you a quick tug that has you standing up to start following him. He completely dwarfs you in every way, his hand practically enveloping your entire fist as he pulls you along towards the couch.

You don’t know what otherworldly urge possesses you so suddenly, but you glance over towards the door, then back at Joel before you muster up everything you have and shove him square in the back, yanking your captured hand back in the process. He stumbles forward, your hand slipping from his and you quickly gain your balance and bolt. You reach the front door, fumbling with the lock and knob as you hear Joel grunt loudly behind you. 

“Don’t you understand? There’s nowhere to go, sweetheart,” he calls after you angrily. You don’t dare turn around as you fling the door open with a strength you didn’t even know you possessed, feet moving of their own accord as you sprint down the stairs and towards the oncoming woods. You can hear Joel’s huffs behind you, both of your shoe-less feet pounding on the frozen earth. It hurts, the cold ground combined with all types of brush and wood littering the forest floor that are now jabbing into your feet with every step. This was stupid, this was a mistake, you’re going to die out here if he doesn’t do it first.

“God… damn… it…” you hear Joel pant behind you, knowing he’s close, that it’s almost over now. You’re weak and frail still, much too slow to outrun a towering powerhouse like Joel. He was right - there’s no fighting it, no escape from here unless he allows it. Maybe it won’t be so bad… maybe you do enjoy the way he speaks to you, the way he’s been touching you… maybe it’ll all be just what you’ve needed. You’ve always wanted more than what you had, wishing for someone to care just a little more, to have a family again.

You lose yourself to an almost transcendent train of thought, letting it wash over you. As if the universe was trying to tell you the right decision, you feel your foot collide with something sharp and you stumble, a sure way to get you back into Joel’s arms. He catches you as you go down, upper arm squeezed into his grasp as his other wraps around and yanks you by the front of your collar, tearing your shirt all the way down to the middle of your chest as he tugs. You’re pulled into his chest with a hard thud before you both go down with the momentum of it all, his body landing on top of yours on the hard, frozen earth.

“God damn it, girl, what the hell you think you’re doin’, huh?” Joel huffs out, arms pinning you down by the wrists as he breathes heavily right in your face. You grunt and struggle, squirming against the ground, but it only serves to help Joel push you into the frosty dirt even harder, his own grunts slipping out of his lips. 

“Like it when you struggle…” he says closer to your ear, leaning down. His lips turn into a chilling leer as he bares his teeth down at you. “But too bad we can't play a little longer, you’ll freeze out here. Get up,” he demands, pulling back and then fluidly plucking your body up off the ground as he stands. He hooks one of his arms through yours and begins drags you, your feet scrambling to keep up with how quickly he’s moving. 

You’d barely gotten far, just like he said you would - it’s only a short distance back to the cabin where he slams you against the wall, clutching one hand around your throat, not hard enough to put much pressure, just to show you he could, if he really wanted to. His body crowds closer as your back presses against the hard, unrelenting wooden logs adorning the outer frame of the cabin. The chill of the air settles in and you shiver, feet throbbing and chest prickling with goosebumps from the frozen air entering your lungs in large heaves. 

“Told ya, girl. You don’t need to go anywhere. All y’need is right here. I can do anythin’ I want with ya, can’t I?” He spits his words out angrily, eyes blazing. His head is cocked, looking down on you with scornful, yet hopeful eyes. His gaze travels to your chest, the way your shirt is torn to almost reveal everything there, eyes flickering hotly on the sight. Both of you stand with huffing breaths, chests heaving and letting out little cloudy puffs of air as your exhales hit the air. 

You nod, whimpering as his grip gets slightly tighter around your throat when you don’t answer right away. Your entire body trembles against him, afraid you’ll collapse any second as your knees buckle. His entire frame is pressed against you, keeping you upright, the warmth of him the only thing keeping you grounded and afloat right now.

“Thas’ right, it’s just me ‘n you out here. I’ll take real good care of ya, never let anyone hurt ya again. Ever.” A hand snakes around to your hair, smoothing it as he pulls your head off the wall, tracing his palm down as he pets you. “Now c’mon.” He yanks your entire body by the waist, holding you close as he hauls you back inside, pulling the door shut behind you two and locking it.

Joel brings you to his original destination before you’d run - the couch - and sits back, pulling you down with him, maneuvering you to settle on his lap so that you’re straddling him. His hands wrap around your back in a possessive, tight hold. You squirm a little bit, the feeling of him enveloping you like this making you hot, a sheen of sweat breaking out over your entire body.

“S-stop…” you mumble as you continue to struggle, his hands only seeming to get stronger the more effort you put in. You start to shove and push at his chest and one of his arms comes from around your back to catch your wrists in one fell swoop, pinning them against his chest. 

“Better knock that shit off quick,” he commands, grunting as he continues to hold your squirming body. “You got me offerin’ you everything I know you want, and all I ask is you do what I want, sweet girl. Be here w’me.” His tone is somehow cruel and hard but soft and caring at once, like he really believes that he needs to act this way to care for you right now.

“N-no, you’re hurting me,” you cry out. “You said you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me…” You think that maybe your reasoning will have any kind of effect on him, and he only smiles softly. It disarms you a little, your struggle starting to die out as you look at the hidden anger behind the smile, the desire to let out the hidden beast within him. 

“Let’s get one thing clear,” he says, letting go of your wrists to grip your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, squishing them together. Your hands fall limply to your sides, skin burning on your cheeks where he’s pressing in harder. “Only I can make you feel pain. Nobody else. Nobody’s gonna hurt you when I’m around. And I’m the only one who can make y’feel good too, understand? But if you’re not gonna be a good girl ‘n pull this shit, I can’t help what I’ve gotta do to get you back to bein’ good, hm?” His eyes track across your face, awaiting a response. 

You shake your head in small movements, squeezing your eyes shut and squirming one final time to try to slide off his lap. He sees your desperate eyes and his blood rushes a little hotter through him, tugging you harshly to situate you back perfectly centered on his lap.

“Please…” you whimper quietly, unsure of what you’re asking for now. To be let go? To be held tighter? For someone to just make it all okay?

Joel drops your cheeks from his tight grip and looks at you a little more sympathetically. “Okay, okay, c’mon, no more strugglin’ sweet girl. I’ve got you. Not gonna hurt ya. I just wanna help ya.” 

He leans forward and his lips find your neck, peppering wet, urgent kisses from just underneath your chin all the way down to your collarbone. It’s all too much, the emotions bubbling up as the adrenaline leaves your body. You shake a little, feeling the now all too familiar sting of tears behind your eyes that quickly manifest as tears that roll down your cheeks. Joel must sense a heave in your chest as you try to hold back your sob because he pulls his lips off of you and looks up to see your eyes shining as tears start to fall at a more rapid pace. 

“Shh, shh,” he coos. Both of his arms wrap around your back and pull you in so that your chest is flush with his. Your head drops instinctively to his body and you find yourself wrapping your arms tightly around his neck before burying your face in his chest. 

“Oh, c’mere, sweetheart. Let it all out… shh…” Joel says quietly, his palms splayed along your back, rubbing up and down in a soothing pattern. You finally break completely, finally let yourself sob. Your entire body is wracked with shaking heaves of breath each time you start another wave of tears. You bury yourself deeper into Joel’s chest, your face burning red hot with embarrassment, but unable to stop nonetheless. He’s warm and soft against you, the comforting fabric of his shirt soaking up the tears you pour out. 

Joel continues his soothing ministrations, his hands uncharacteristically kind and sweet, holding the back of your head against him now, like he’s encouraging this, even, this release of emotion from you. It makes you sob even harder to realize the only person you have in this world to comfort you is a man you met yesterday, one who hasn’t shown you a consistent side to himself since then. You don’t know how long you cry for, the last two weeks of pure desperation and the flood of emotions since meeting Joel have all collided into this one meltdown, Joel’s chest taking the brunt of it as you continue sobbing.

“Oh, that’s it, there we go…” he hums calmly, his chin resting on the top of your head as he keeps stroking along your back. You finally start to let up, choking back little sobs as they climb their way up your throat. 

“Jus’ breathe… there ya go, honey. Take some deep breaths for me now, okay?” Joel says calmly, continuing to chant little encouragements in your ear. You turn your face to lay the side of your cheek along Joel’s chest for a moment, a few remaining hiccups shaking your body as you sniffle. Your entire face feels puffy, like everything is two sizes too big for you now, cheeks wet and sticky as your tears start to dry. You slowly lift your head up and Joel quickly catches your face between his hands, thumbs going to work wiping your tears.

“Beautiful…” he murmurs as his eyes scan your flushed, glowing face. His lips turn into a gentle, small smile while he continues to wipe down your cheeks for a moment longer. “Now don’t that feel better?” Joel looks at you with concern now, his head tilting as his fingers continue to stroke along your face. You look so broken and fragile right now - the thought exciting him, sending a twitch beneath his jeans that he doesn't even have the mind to be ashamed of. You're close... so close to being his.

“I g-guess…” you murmur, unable to say if it really does feel much better. You feel lighter now, unburdened of the pent up emotions that had been weighing you down the last few weeks, but you still had to grapple with the fact that you were here now, with a dangerous man who seemed intent on keeping you here no matter what.

“Listen, darlin’...” Joel starts, a heavy sigh escaping him. “You’re too sweet for this world, you deserve to be protected… That’s all I’m tryin’ to say here, to do here. You wanna know what I thought when I first saw ya?”

Your eyes widen in curiosity, letting him go on.

“Thought that the universe sent me a gift. One look at ya and I knew you had to be all mine. Like y’were made for me, I swear it…” he gushes before his eyes go more serious. “I can show you how good it all feels, sweetheart, d’you understand?”

You shake your head slowly. “S-show me how good what feels?” you ask tentatively.

Joel leans forward, his lips brushing along your jawline then ghosting to that sensitive spot under your ear. His breath tickles you in just the right way and you shudder, hating that he seems to have pinpointed your weakness.

“Show you… just how good it feels… to submit to me.” His lips press onto your neck gently, his tongue poking out to taste the salt of your skin. “Show you what your place is here.” He sucks a little harder on your neck, eliciting a tiny sound from the back of your throat. “I’ll give you everything, you’ll see. I can see you want it, sweet girl. I can see how badly you need it.” His hips thrust upwards into yours on his last words, grinding against you slightly. Your eyes flutter shut when his lips kiss your neck again, rough but gentle, as Joel always seems to be. You squirm, your body and mind still mixing signals with each other, unsure if you’re fleeing or giving in. 

You consider his words heavily, the weight of them pressing down on your chest, nearly choking you. It makes your entire body tingle, the way he’d said the word submit, not even fully understanding all of what that would entail. But he’s right, you do need someone, you need something in your life that won’t fail you or run or disappear. You’re desperate for it at this point, needing it like you need air and water. You’ve seen nothing but loss and sadness and lived with a desperation to just be loved and cared for in the deepest ways. 

Maybe it was fate, like he said. Maybe you were meant to stumble into that clearing just at the right time, just when you so fiercely needed everything he’s offering to you. 

He pulls back and stares into your eyes, trying to read the look behind them, trying to gauge how you’ll respond as you sit silently. You feel tears building on the rims of your eyes again, quickly wiping them away before they can fall. 

“Let me show you, hm? How I’ll take care of you.” He thumbs your chin as he stares at you, a look of wonder in his eyes. “We need to get some more food in you, darlin’. Barely ate a thing yesterday.” His bargains immediately begin to work as you notice your stomach rumbling and empty again as if on cue. You nod slightly and he gives you a half smile.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos. “Now hold on tight.” Before you can question him further on why, he’s lifting you up off the couch, and your arms scramble to fling around his neck so you don’t fall backwards. Your legs wrap around his middle for extra support as he carries you to the kitchen table, settling you down on top of it now, legs dangling off the side as he lets go of his grip under your thighs. You find yourself reluctant to untangle your arms and legs from his warm, safe body, but he begins to pull away, heading for the fridge. You watch him with a frown as he bends down, shuffling a bit in the fridge before pulling out an item wrapped in a thin cloth. He opens a breadbox on the counter and reaches in, tearing off a chunk of bread before plating it and unwrapping the block, revealing some type of cheese.

“Sheeps cheese from Jackson. And some bread I made. Should tide y’over till dinner time, don’t you think?” he asks, bringing the plate over. He nudges your legs apart with his knee, a silent command that you follow mindlessly before he steps in between your thighs. One hand brushes along your thigh as he gets closer to you, eyes pasted right onto yours. His near glare is nearly too much to keep focused on as he grabs the piece of bread and brings it up to your lips. You pause, gaze faltering as you scan his face, a little stunned.

“Y’need some food, darlin’. Now eat.” Another command, another test to see how pliant you are, how willing you are to accept the entire package he offered you. You crane your neck forward enough to bite down on the piece, tearing some off as he holds it for you, never breaking eye contact with him. His eyes quickly flash back to a satisfied, pleasant look from the darkness that had threatened them moments ago.

“Good girl.” The words burrow in a little more, your thighs tightening against his, sending Joel gazing down with a smirk pulling at his lips. “Another,” he says quietly, holding the bread up to your lips again. You don’t falter this time, taking a quick bite and chewing as Joel smiles down at you, letting his thumb brush across your lips.

“You’re bein’ so good f’me now, what happened?” he says smugly, picking up the cheese and feeding you again. Each time he does it, you take the food more eagerly, Joel stepping closer until he’s pressed against the table, his hips as close as they can be to the apex of your thighs. You can sense the excitement radiating off of him now, the pure satisfaction that you’re not putting up a fight, accepting the care he’s pouring out onto you.

“Now you see how I can take care of you, darlin’? That’s just a small thing, honey, makin’ sure you get fed. Now tell me how much you appreciate it, hm?”

You feel your cheeks warming up at the blatant coaxing from Joel, the way the heat of his body presses so close to you now as his finger lingers on your lip after the last scrap of bread goes in.

“T-thank you, Joel,” you say, quiet and mousy as you avert your eyes downward.

“Oh, such a good girl.” He pets the top of your head down the side, stroking a gentle, long path down to your shoulder. “Feel better now that we got you full?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Y-yes, thank you.” Mousy. Quiet. The way Joel seems to like, the way that you can’t help but be when he questions you like this, when his eyes search your depths so intensely. Your heart clenches at just how quickly he’s already worked his way in, has you saying just what you know he wants to hear. 

“Not bad for an old man baking bread, huh?” he asks, winking as he caresses your cheek. You tilt your head down, failing to conceal your little smile in time as a breathy chuckle makes its way out of you. You can sense the lightness fill Joel and the entire room as he notices, cocking his head and leaning closer to you.

“That a smile I see, darlin’? You think it’s funny to call me an old man?”

You shake your head, pulling your lips tight to suppress your smile. “N-no, you’re n-not…” 

“Oh, too sweet, ain’t you.” He wraps his arms around your middle, drawing you close again. “Y’know, you’re so pretty when you smile. This old man’d like to see more of that, y’know.”

Your smile falls quickly as discomfort settles in again at the way he’d cracked through your façade just now.  “Why haven’t you just… hurt me yet? Or done what you want with me and tossed me out?” you ask suddenly, blurting the words out before you can think twice about the possible consequences. 

Joel clicks his tongue and lets his lips part slightly, showing his surprise - a rare moment from such a guarded man. 

“That what you think this is?” he asks quietly, forebodingly. The pure control in his voice is a skill that you can tell he’s exercised many times. “Just want to squeeze the life outta you and toss your body out for the damn animals? Or fuck you senseless then turn you to the cold? You really think that little of me after I fed you, clothed you, helped you?”

He doesn’t sound quite angry, but something deeper that takes a minute for you to register - you’ve hurt him. Wounded his ego, made a dent in this brick wall of a man. A power you suddenly wish you didn't have over him.

“I don’t… I don’t know…” you admit. “You scare me.”

He leans forward, his dark irises going icy as he captures your rapt attention with this one single glance. 

“I should,” he spits out with a twitch of his lip. “But only if you give yourself reason to, yeah? I never want to hurt you, sweetness, never.” He goes softer, brushing a finger along your cheek, sending you trembling with a quivering lip. “Jus’ want you to be here w’me, lettin’ me take good care of you, and you do the same f’me. Somethin’ so beautiful here, you ‘n I…”

You sigh heavily, your body slumping in defeat. You’re exhausted, your nerves frayed and mind overstimulated from all of the inconsistencies, the back and forth with him. If what he says is true, if he wants to treat you kindly, give you all he’s promised, you know what he expects in response. You can feel it in the undertone of every word he says, every tiny movement when he touches you. He wants you to belong to him, to have you sucked so completely into his world there’s no going back. To have you fear him and look in wonder at him and worship at his feet and let him touch you and feel you and be completely yours and you be completely his. Your head spins, a dizzy sickness overtaking you at how utterly lost you feel right now. How badly you crave it and are equally repulsed by it. 

You dip your head down, eyes on your lap as you let the wave of churning fear wash over you.

“Eyes up, darlin’,” Joel reminds you, fingers tracing on your thigh to get your attention. 

“I… believe you,” you say, turning your gaze to him again. It’s not an answer yet, not a yes or no or anything at all. A fact.

“I know you do,” he says, a serious expression curling into a smile. “Only say what I mean. Are we clear, then?”

Joel’s face inches closer to yours, leaving just a few inches between you, now. “Y-yes,” you mutter, rapidly scanning over his eyes to try to read anything there but the inky darkness that seems to permeate above all else.

“Good,” he says proudly. “Now gimme a smile, darlin’. Need to see you lookin’ happier ‘round here.”

You pull your lips into a tight smile that seems to suffice for Joel as he carries on, moving until his lips hover just above yours. You notice yourself starting to tremble a little bit, shoulders tightening up, and Joel holds you close as his brows come together.

“You ever kiss a man like me, darlin’?” he whispers, licking his lips.

Your lips part, words failing you for a moment as you contemplate him. Your throat is suddenly dry and itchy as you glance down at Joel’s lips. “N-no…” You shake your head. “I haven’t… haven’t been with… anyone…”

Joel stills completely for what feels like minutes, his lips twisted to the side in a wry smile now. “You sayin’ you’re a virgin?” he asks bluntly, his hands naturally tightening their grip on your back, fingers digging in as they slide a little lower towards your waist.

Your face burns first, then your entire body is set aflame as embarrassment sets in. You know you shouldn’t be embarrassed, but you can sense Joel’s experience, almost having some strange need to impress him with your own, coming up empty. Your eyes look down, staring at the middle of his shirt before you nod once, blinking away a quick sting of tears at your sudden humiliation. 

“Christ,” Joel bites back all the things he wants to say for a moment and tuts as he notices your glassy eyes, scraping his fingers along your back. He tightens his hold on your waist and tugs you even closer so that your hips are flush with his. He moves his lips right next to your ear, making you shudder as they brush close enough to touch for a moment. “Had a feelin’. You have no idea… how turned on that makes me, sweet girl.”

Joel’s crude words have you gasping a little, a breath caught in your throat as you stutter out a sound to try to answer him. His lips press on your neck again, kissing a little more fervently down to your collarbone and then he pulls back, one hand going to your face to cup your cheek. 

“Such an innocent little thing… so sweet…” he murmurs. “‘S okay to touch me, y’know.” Your hands tingle with anticipation as he says that, but you don’t know how to move them, where to move them to, or if you want to touch him.

“I - I don’t…” You shake your head, and Joel captures one of your hands in his, holding it gently and rubbing his fingers along yours. 

“I got ya, I’ll show y’everythin’ you need to know, how’s that sound?” he says, gazing down at you intently, waiting with baited breath to hear your response. 

“You mean…” you ask, cheeks flushing as you’re unable to finish your sentence. Joel places your hand on his chest, spreading your fingers out to splay across the space between his pecs. He nods softly and you wiggle your fingers a little, feeling the planes of his chest, hard but warm underneath your palm. He glances down to where your hand explores a little more, running your fingers gently over to the right side of his pecs, then the left, and smirks. 

“I mean all of it, you sweet little thing. You don’t know how good y’could feel, do you?” Joel breathes a little heavier, his expression losing a bit of its controlled façade, that vague look of craving revealing itself in his eyes again. “I could give you so much… oh, you pretty thing, you need it.” He shakes his head in disbelief of everything he’s learned about you. “Untouched… so innocent…” he says more quietly, his hands finding their way back to your waist, thumbs hooking under the waistband at the back of your pants.

“I’m n-not sure… I-I don’t know -” you stutter as you feel his thumbs touch bare skin before one of his hands trails under your shirt, moving upwards. Your eyes blink a little slower, a flutter of your lashes as his calloused pads scrape along your skin, leaving a blazing trail that tingles all the way to the base of your spine. It pools quickly there, your core starting to heat up as his hand travels higher, the other playing at the hem of your shirt, starting to lift it. Your breath hitches, eyes going wider as your shirt moves, but you don’t squirm, don’t try to stop him.

“Y’do know. I can see you want it, sweetheart, look at how you respond to me…” He breathes in and out a little shakily. “Respond to a man takin’ good care of you…”

“W-what are you doing?” you ask, feeling your back almost halfway exposed to the air.

“Think you know what I’m doin,” Joel huffs a stony hearted chuckle. “Just wanna see how pretty y’are, take a peek, thas’ all.”

You shrink back a little, eyebrows pulled close together, shaking your head in small movements. “I’m scared…” you whimper finally, showing Joel the fear that’s been building deep inside of you. You don’t know how to want this, when to know your body is telling you it’s okay. You’ve somehow lost complete trust in any of your instincts, unsure of where along the way that happened. 

“I know, I know,” he purrs, still pulling your shirt higher. His lips dart down to your stomach, where your bare skin is starting to show, kissing sloppily along all the fresh skin he hasn’t seen yet. He starts speaking against your body, kissing in between his words. “Nothin’ to be scared of when you got me though, y’understand? You let me take care of you, and you’ll never worry a day in your life. Be my good girl, my everything. Just gotta trust me.” His nails dig into your back, a sweet, welcome pain, bringing you to the present. It’s too easy to lose yourself to his lips, his touch, his words. Your hand stays steadily placed on his chest, barely daring to move now.

You stare with your mouth open, and at your silence Joel drags his mouth up your chest and to your neck before looking at you expectantly.

“I don’t… know…” you murmur, less convincingly than the other times, an observation that Joel doesn’t fail to notice. He gathers the fabric of your shirt and tugs on the front hem of your shirt, pulling it taut along your back, drawing you closer to him as his lips sit merely an inch from yours.

“Think y’do know,” he says, greedy hands under the front of your shirt now, pulling the hem up. “I’ll be so gentle, honey…” He pulls your shirt up further and you drop your hand from his chest, allowing him the freedom of movement he needs to finish the job. 

��Okay…” you whisper, unsure if the two syllables even resonate far enough to reach Joel’s ears. You start to feel your legs trembling as you see his face registering your one word, the only thing he’d needed to hear. 

“Good girl,” he breathes out, exuding pure elation. “Oh, I’m gonna make you so happy, darlin’, gonna give y’everythin’.” He practically snarls as his hands get back to work on your shirt, lifting each of your arms to tug them through the sleeves, then tossing your shirt aside after it's over your head.

A growl tumbles out of his throat when he takes in your breasts, and you hunch your shoulders up a little more, your arm flying up to cover your chest now that it's exposed. Joel’s hand grabs your wrist, strongly wrapped around it as he tugs it away.

“Don’t have to hide ‘em from me, nothin’ to hide from me now,” he snaps, tossing your arm back to your side. His hands reach up to tease at the swell of your breasts, and you sit half in shock, letting his fingers send tingles across your skin as he explores your chest. He runs errant fingers down along the curves as he stares downwards. Your breath catches when he rubs his thumbs over your pebbled nipples, you back arching towards him as you gasp. 

“So soft ‘n pretty…” He grins, continuing to watch the way his hands work along your skin, a little more rough as he gropes your tits, rolling your nipples just to observe your reaction. The little pinch sends waves of arousal through your body, pooling deep inside of you, making you feel your underwear get damp again. You’re already panting, the sensations he’s bringing out in you so strong that you can hardly contain the little noises slipping out of you as he continues touching your chest.

“I - I’m…” you pant. “Joel…”

He pauses for just a moment, leaning closer and brushing his lips across your cheek. “Know you’re feelin’ good, aren’t ya?”

You nod dumbly, completely awestruck as he pinches your nipples again, sending your back arching and hips pressing into his. It’s maddening and confusing all in one, the way he’s able to work your body like this and make you feel a hot burning starting to blaze across your skin. 

“Pretty girl never had her tits touched, has she?”

You shake your head urgently, a breathy moan pulled out of your throat as he pinches and tugs a little harder on the hard buds. “P-please… stop… it’s too…” you whine, scrunching your face, unsure if you actually want him to stop. You feel wild, feral almost, the strangest sensation pulling at your insides as he tugs one more time.

Joel smirks in satisfaction, going back to caressing you more lightly, giving you some relief. One hand travels down to rest on your hip, the other up to your face to cradle your cheek in his palm. 

“You’re fun to play with, jus’ like I thought you’d be…” Joel muses as he touches your face. “You’re bein’ so good f’me, too, honey. Lettin’ me see you ‘n touch you.” He looks at you almost curiously now, like he’s studying you. 

“Think you deserve a little reward for bein’ so good for me, finally seein’ some sense.” He pauses, watching your face morph into a soft, intrigued look. “How’s that sound, hm?” he asks, pinching your cheek. 

You tilt your head at him. “A reward? Wh-“

“Exactly. If you act like a good girl, gotta reward ya for it.” Your heart beats a little faster as you take in his words, your thighs clamped as his voice comes out low and teasing. “C’mere, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his fingers around your cheek and pulling you closer as he leans in. “You deserve to feel good, do you realize that? You’ve been denyin’ yourself somethin’ so good, but turns out it was so that I could show ya.”

“I - Joel - I don’t know…” you blurt out, your stomach twisting. The fact you can barely say anything but those same three words over and over is starting to frustrate you. 

“Don’t go gettin’ shy on me now,” Joel replies, his hand now cradling the back of your head. “You’ll enjoy this.”

He leans forward again, completely closing the gap between the two of you as he presses his lips to yours. It’s soft at first, testing you, and you blink once in surprise, not able to force yourself to press your lips back into his at first. But your body naturally starts to melt into him a little, his hand stroking against the back of your head calming you into submission. Your hands twitch forward, gently touching the bottom hem of his shirt and holding onto it just slightly. The feel of the fabric grounds you as you feel your lips press back into Joel’s, sending a wave of heat over your body. Your cheeks burn and your skin prickles as he groans quietly and pushes his lips a little more aggressively against yours before pulling back slightly. 

He looks down at you with a smirk. His hand digs into your waist a little harder, the possession he’s feeling clearly evident. 

“Tastes sweet, darlin’,” he says quietly before leaning back in, kissing you again. Your hand tugs a little harder on the bottom of his shirt and you feel yourself cracking under the pressure, like you’re about to burst into a million little parts like a piece of dropped china.  

His mouth opens and invites you to do the same, so you follow his lead. You’re frustrated, unsure of yourself, not understanding the way your body just moves with his, mirroring his motions. 

Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. Maybe your first kiss is supposed to feel just like this. Maybe you’re supposed to be afraid and unsure and terrified yet intrigued in a way you can’t ignore. You wouldn’t know any different, after all, and your body already yearns for Joel to keep going, to press his lips harder onto yours, to feel his warm, soft lips all over you. You don’t even quite understand where the thoughts come from, it’s like your body is telling you without your mind having to get involved. 

You open your mouth the tiniest bit, allowing Joel to kiss you deeper. He pulls back just enough to suck a little on your bottom lip and you whimper and your brows scrunch. How… how could it feel so good?

As if to send you asking that question a hundred more times, one of his hands skates his fingers up your spine and you shudder, falling apart just as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You nearly gasp but find your own tongue hesitantly brushing against his. He hums quietly in satisfaction, continuing the motions of his tongue with small variations - darting into your mouth, licking your lip. 

You feel your entire being aching and warm now with the way Joel is pressed as close as he can, hips flush with yours. You want to move your own hips, to push them further and further, your body urging you on again without telling you quite what it’s doing. 

You yank your head back, completely breathless. Joel’s hand scrambles to the back of your head, holding it in place as he devours your lips again, not letting up just yet. 

“Wasn’t done w’you yet…” he mumbles before kissing you again, his tongue and lips more aggressive now as his hand slides to the back of your neck, gripping tightly. When he’s had his fill he tucks his head back enough to get a read on your expression, smirking. He sees the wonder in your eyes, the confusion, the struggle, but he welcomes it all, now. He knows he has you - his prize, his to keep, his to take. He can practically feel the ache of want oozing out of your pores now as you sit trembling slightly on the table, your soul and tits bared to him, equally enticing. A perfect paradox, he thinks.

You look so perfect - like a pure, innocent angel sent just for him. He knows you can be exactly what he’s looking for - someone to call his own, to protect and guide and keep close to him. His perfect girl.

He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent and musk like it’s the last time he’ll ever get a chance to before his lips rumble against you. 

“Lemme take you upstairs, show you how to be mine," he offers, in a way that's not an offer at all, but an instruction, a test.

He’s quiet and seductive with his words, a low, gravelly lilt to his voice that makes your head swim. You’re hazy, a practically drunk feeling coming over you now - cloudy and out of control of your own body. 

Before you can stop yourself, body buzzing and lips puffy and parted in need, you nod for him.

reminder i have no taglist now! follow @beardedjoel-updates and turn on notifs!

[mydearneteyam]

Heyy, i already made a request abt a Aonung x Albino Navi/Navi from a cold region and u wanted that the request were more specific so im just going to give u more ideas:

Like i was thinking the reader is like a messenger (i think that its the word) from her clan for the exchange of materials between the two clans, so Aonung and the reader saw eachother before and it was like love at first sight (u can change this if u want tho but i imagine like aonung felt so attracted to them bcs it was like something new to him and he was curious 😭💕) so when they finally talk they pass a lot of time together learning about each other and their clans

And idk if u wanna write this but i also imagine like when Aonung try to court reader probably Ronal would be a bit against that cuz the reader definitely doenst look like any other navi and also they are from a very different place and she wants someone good for her son and the clan, but this its optional tho 💕

FRIENDS DON'T ;; AO'NUNG

summary ;; maybe only three days of five at your side were enough to gather courage.

pairing ;; ao'nung x fem!albino!cold-region!na'vi! reader

warnings ;; none

word count ;; 1.8k

word of the day ;; herwì [ˈhɛɾ.wɪ] n. snow

first a/n ;; i really like the idea because it kinda remind be of that movie of tinker bell ?? anyways, i tried my best !! hope to get your expectations ¡!

As the rain came down hard you couldn't help but give a yawn at the horizon. The afternoon had passed too quickly for your liking and, having arrived at Awa'atlu and set things up for the next few days, there wasn't much to do anymore. You began to count down the times for tomorrow, where you should first talk to the younger ones, or perhaps the boys your age, so that they would learn how to conserve the medicinal flora.

"I thought you preferred to hide" the voice of that boy made you smile and you denied.

"Only when the sun comes up."

You had met Ao'nung maybe seven years ago, the first time your parents allowed you to accompany them. It was a cold winter, before humans could approach the snowy mountains of your clan where at present, they were already settling. You remembered how you had run your hands through the water, excited to smell new scents and meet new people. You remembered the warmth inside your big coat that tried to cover you and also, of course, you remembered the faces of those who welcomed you to their lands.

"She is our daughter, we hope that in the future she will be the designated messenger for these islands, Tonowari" your father spoke, extending his pale hand to yours which despite being covered, was the same shade. Looking up you bumped into the one who was the chief, with his partner and hidden behind the Tsahìk were their eldest son and the youngest daughter.

You didn't really like it when your parents introduced you to other clans in the mountains. Not only because they might see you as weak or clumsy due to your moon-shiny skin, but also because they often wanted to get their hands on the 'gift of Eywa'. However, from Ronal's gaze you immediately picked up that your physique was not something that caught her attention in the least and even, she seemed to disown it, looking at you with disdain when she passed by you those five days you stayed as a young na'vi.

"The previous winter you didn't come. I thought--we thought you wouldn't come this time" the boy corrected himself ominously, positioning himself to one side of you, feeling how the rain was gradually lowering its intensity.

"You missed me?" by the way he looked at you, you noticed he was surprised by your comment, but when you laughed he could only roll his eyes.

"Please, you?" he grumbled, smiling. "You people teach slow, that's all. I had a hard time understanding them. I needed my designated teacher" he gave a false explanation to which you added other words with derision.

"Or maybe we are too fast for you" you started to walk back to the marui, but he took your hand. It felt warm, unlike yours which was always cold.

"Where are you going, are you planning to hide?"

"Show, actually."

...

Ao'nung wasn't an idiot. He knew that since the first winter his feelings for you had begun to blossom, ironic as it seemed. Though there was always something that made him recoil when he sought to express himself to you. Perhaps the idea that by having a beauty beyond perfection -according to him- you would be paired with someone from the snowy mountains, maybe because he belonged to the water and you to the snow or simply, the voice of his mother and friends was stuck deep in his mind and heart. But there was always something that stopped him from showing you his true personality.

His sister called him childish, but for him there was no other way to express himself to you. Give you a necklace? Not at all, he'd rather you find it and he'd just tell you that when you found it it was yours. Express directly how he wanted to court you? Those words would never come out of his lips.

"Why are we here?" he asked, escorting you to the marui where there were some furs.

"You told me my people teach too slow, so I'll teach you from now on" you shrugged to the side and began to speak.

But while, your voice was calm when you spoke and it was one of the things he admired most about you, he couldn't help but notice your braids, adorned with brown feathers that highlighted your colorless hair. You pointed and traced with your pale fingers the animal skins you brought from your lands, but now he looked at your eyes, similar to his, blue, no, yours were the color of the water between his hands, light blue.

"…Over there they don't grow, but here they do, so with them you can adjust them and they will remain as the drums for the return of the tulkun" you finished explaining.

The rain had returned and with your poor vision, you could only see things sharply from up close. You wondered if it was his hair, maybe his eyes, but something made you notice that the boy's presence was much closer than before.

"You understood, didn't you?" you preferred to believe it was just your condition about bad view and noticed that the boy nodded. "Well, would you rather I talk to you now about-?" but he interrupted you.

"Customs. Tell me about the customs of your clan" you blinked a couple of times and cocked your head.

Customs? It wasn't necessary. Nothing had to do with them in that winter's delivery.

"What, did I speak like an animal? Come on, tell me" at his insistence, you had no choice but to explain.

First you named the ways of hunting you had, explaining with a smile how unlike the forests, there were animals with thicker skin and even fur, so they were used for clothing, especially for you or your parents, who had to take more care of their skin.

Then you talked about the artistic expressions, showing him the designs of the baskets, then telling him about the tattoos of his clan, comparing them to the face paintings in your clan. You continued to explain to him for so long that the freedom felt incredible, at least until your mother walked in, surprised.

"Oh, it's time for dinner" she reported, putting on her best smile.

As you both made your way to the place, the boy couldn't help but notice that you were attentive to everything around you and whispered, behind your mother's back.

"If you want, tomorrow I can show you a couple of things about my clan" and your smile was enough to make his heart pound, almost silencing the insecurities deep inside his body.

...

"It's not funny!" you spoke once you surfaced, having been knocked down by the ilu you had tried to hold on to and which, because of your nerves, shot out. Ao'nung's laughter was impossible to mistake and that alone made you give a grunt as you returned to his side.

"You said it was like going fishing, but you don't look to me like your fish are the size of an ilu" he put a hand on his waist, amused and quieting his laughter little by little.

"Apparently you listen to my words, huh" you folded your arms.

The day was for Ao'nung to allow himself to show you around and explain his clan to you every time you finished teaching your classes to his people. This he told his parents and, Tonowari, happy to see that his son at least once in his life was doing something for pleasure and not by command, decided to assign him that task. Besides, soon both he and you would be village chiefs and this tradition would have to continue for several generations so that the exchange of goods would be normalized.

Now, his mother was more… careful with the change in the boy's personality, after all, she was his mother, especially when she heard her son's arrival so late after the first day. Then the second.

By the third day, the two were debating methods of courtship.

"Competitions? Really?" he questioned when he came in from the hunt to your marui. You nodded.

"For example, if you have three suitors, they must face various tests. Sled races, fire dancing, there are several" you listed. "My favorite is the Säwem!"

"Säwem? Like… Fighting?" he grimaced in confusion, but you could tell how interested he was.

"Not with each other, of course. But with yourself." you clarified. "Do you consider yourself good for that person? How would you rate your efforts? How far would you go for that person? It can be internal or external factors, and you can also struggle with it spiritually or physically."

You continued with the explanation and Ao'nung felt a pain in his chest as his mouth went dry. What he felt could be a form of courtship? He even found it funny.

"…My father once stayed under a blizzard to try on mom" you recalled, laughing. "I mean, they were paired up, but still, he wanted to prove to her that he was worthy."

He wanted to consider himself worthy. Him. Just him. He didn't want someone else from your clan to try any of those things. He didn't want to know that other boys were fighting over you, even if it was at races or dances. He wanted to-

"I would do that for you" his words came out matter-of-factly. You were surprised, but his own face showed you that he was much more shocked to say it out loud.

You looked away and felt your cheeks blush a little. You felt annoyed that your own skin could give you away so easily. "Friends don't need that kind of courtship" you tried to push the idea away, embarrassed, but right now, the boy had already screwed up and there was no way to take it back.

"No, friends don't" he acknowledged, moving a little closer to you. "Friends don't" he arranged one of your albino braids carefully and looked at you. He wasn't the Ao'nung that teased you as a child. He wasn't the boy who stuck his tongue out at you, hiding behind his mother. He wasn't the one who laughed at you with his friends.. It was Ao'nung. Your Ao'nung…. "May I-" but you didn't give him time until you moved closer and kissed the corner of his lips.

You both looked at each other for a while and your cheeks were already between a very strong purple and pink.

"Sorry. I forgot my vision wasn't the best. I wanted to kiss your lips" you admitted, covering your mouth with one of your hands.

He pushes your hand away with his, laughing, and intertwines your fingers. His laughter surrounded you and so did his arms.

For him, 'Moon skin' as his mother used to say with unpleasant voice matched perfectly.

a/n ;; I REALLY WANTED TO WRITE ABOUT RONAL BUT I THOUGHT THAT JUST LIKE THIS IT WAS PERFECT BECAUSE THEY ARE HAPPY OKAY IM SRRY 😭😭😭😭ALSO, I INVENTED SO MANY THINGS??? james cameron squirms on the set of Avatar 3 istg i was listening to "calling after me" by wallows while i was writing this btw

[changbinsboobs]

I.n. reading and we finish series boobie

Skz Husband Series: I.N

One of the best ones so far, if not the best🙌🏻

He would be a very loving husband, putting lots of emphasize on romance, quality time together, showing love towards one another and just being happily in love! Thats literally the first card i pulled which jumped out so quick before i even finished my question. This is also the card/energy that sets the tone for the whole reading, like im feeling that presence in all of the following cards afterwards.

He's very very giving and very devoted, in fact sometimes he may even give a bit too much, where his partner may begin taking him for granted so that may be something he should watch out for. When in love and in a committed relationship like marriage, i see him being very focused on the relationship and placing it really really high on his priority list, if not even at the very top. Most of his energy and thought goes towards it, i see him as someone that, when its long term and promising - really doesn't fear "investing" so much into it because in the long run its worth it.

I see him having high emotional understanding, maturity even, idk what exact word for it is but when you understand ur own feelings, can operate them in situations...ugh just in general he's good with feelings thats what im trying to say. He doesn't shy away from them, he feels them, accepts them, can express them - appropriately and knows what they mean for him and for others.

This is a great quality, tho it may result in some frustration if his partner isn't on the same emotional literacy level as him, or isn't that much into touchy feely stuff. I see him sometimes missing that or feeling a bit neglected/unfulfilled/rejected. Tho im not seeing that being a very big issue, just something little that would come up often throughout the marriage, at least initially.

Furthermore i see him being a big team player, and having the mindset of "we together". Idk why (probably cuz i've been rewatching himym for the 87th time) but this energy reminds me a bit of marshal and lily when they started merging into one person😂 i think this is something he would love. Ughhh how to put that energy into word?! He just loves being a part of a team, especially when that team member is the love of his life and he gets to build a family with them and be their partner in crime and their best friend and their advisor and their lover and their teacher and get to be their healer, friend, and much much more. U get what i mean? Also he's very easy to work and partner with, im really getting that strongly. (And immediately im getting the polar opposite of comparisons like changbin, han or chan (lol 3racha) that i think have a very difficult energy to partner with in general...different aspects, in different ways, but regardless even if they try and actually manage to play well for an amount if time, int he long run they fail, whilst I.N is just a natural in teamwork/partnership)

He's passionate, has a high libido, loves having sex, wants lots of it, is easily excitable and is good at it. Or at least like giving pleasure as much as receiving. His goal is cumming - for both. His all for the amazing experience.

Theres also a sense of childlike wonder here i think the relationship/marriage will be all in all very innocent and pure in nature, will flow easily without much turbulations and problems, again pure in intentions, communication, love etc. and i can see them becoming this middle aged and even old couple where both of them are still very young at heart and still love each other very much, despite being 80, u would think they're still in their 20s and just started dating (🥺thats so cute omg😭✨🙌🏻💗)

Now i literally have the death card and heard "till death do us apart" - idk what else to say to that, it speaks for itself. He has (will have) an undying love for his spouse, needless to say he will be loyal and faithful and have their back. He's ready to put in effort to progress the relationship, keep the spark alive after years, keep the love between the two, have a beautiful healthy marriage, keep both of them happy and just be a good husband, father, son and whatever else. Of course that would be most likely reciprocated, i hope so. But since thats the energy im getting from him i assume his partner will be similar.

[beifong-brainrot]

Someone once said Aang and Katara’s romantic interactions have no impact on their relationship. Which I find a ridiculous notion, given how

One: The Series genuinely wasn’t built around romance.

Two: We do gradually see the characters develop feelings for each other more across the show.

https://www.tumblr.com/melu-lis/762094698681745408/one-of-the-most-baffling-thing-about-kataang-to-me?source=share

Honestly, the fact that Katara and Aang's relationship has that strong aspect of friendship is one of my fave parts of it.

Like, maybe this is an unpopular opinion and I'm just a degenerate little dyke but I'm so so tired of romances having to follow the typical usually heterosexual conventions that have been set ib place both irl and in media.

And not to sound like an old man shaking my fist at a cloud, but in an era where romance is very standardised (look at the plethora of YA romance books selling basically the same plotline but in different aesthetics). It's nice to find a relationship that doesn't fully fit that mold.

Like people have joked about this but Aang and Katara really do follow the famously memed lesbian relationship stereotype of "we've been besties for ages and we've kissed a few times and she's said she loves me and I'm starting to think she's into me but idk". And I love that for them.

Also OP's examples aren't really saying much. They mention that "sokka learns that aang has a crush on katara in the fortuneteller, but we never see aang trying to get advice from sokka after he learns about it" while disregarding the fact that Aang did try to get advice from Sokka, and it backfired. Did we all forget "Soooo... papaya?" (also Sokka didn't realise that Aang had a crush on Katara? He thought Aang had a crush on Meng.)

Another argument from OP is that: "aang and katara kiss in the cave of two lovers but we never see katara's perception of aang change at all" which I find a bit of a flawed idea because there's not really anything in Katara's perception of Aang to change? Like she was already seeing him as a viable romantic partner from at least the Fortune Teller, she was blushing when considering kissing him and offended when he didn't immediately agree to it.

(I actually think this is the moment where Sokka realises there's something between Katara and Aang man look athis face.)

We do not see Katara's pov, but we can pick up her thoughts from how she's animated and other clues because atla makes it quite easy to emphasise with its characters. I talk more about it in the Kaatang and female gaze post.

OP using the description of "natural development of a platonic relationship becoming a romantic one" is also mildy annoting because just because a romance doesn't follow established conventions and timelines, doesn't mean that it's not natural or badly written. We study tropes and aechetypes usually in order to subvert them.

The concept that romance has to be a series of events followed by switches flipping automatically in response is incredibly limiting and, frankly, overdone. I can see the appeal of romantic stories being a series of actions and reactions between two people, but I personally find a slow, budding development even more compelling. But once again, thsi is up to preference. If OP doesn't like this style of romance, than that's fine. Though I will stress the golden rule: your preference doesn't mean that everything else is bad/unnatural/unethical etc.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Hiii saw your requests open and i thought why not give it a shot. I love your stories, I'm more attached to your style of writing melancholy like on floret, counting coins, better left unsaid and always the angel never the god. So, just a random idea to throw out there you can do whatever with it:

Hiccup and yn were engaged early on. Yn is a bit older and fitter to follow around Stoick to learn how to defend and manage Berk. Yn feels sorry for Hiccup and tries to make him enjoy his youth and time with his friends more while she made him handle the rest. Leading to a misunderstanding that he didn't feel needed when in fact he did have a crush on her with how she doted on him and how cool she looked fighting dragons and ordering people around. While she liked him for his thoughtful caring side but still envied his freedom and creativity.

That's pretty much it idk lmao it was just a word puke. That's just the gist no need to be word for word, if it's too much i completely understand but truly want to praise your eloquence and how you caught me right in the feels augh. Thank you for your time! 🦀

Wildflower

Pairing: Unrequited!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Fiance!Reader

Words: 2113

You never asked to be here.

Tags: Mild age difference, fem!reader, heavy exposition, non-canon politics, original characters

Next>

His arms ached, heavy and stiff as if the body of a sapling had been shot right through the bone. They loosened slightly and dipped under some hefty weight- he paid them no mind, eyes drawn to the wild world on the outside even as he grunted and struggled. 

With a jerk, dropping the sword, he with a strength he’d never really been able to spend on the all things that really mattered. There was a hefty clatter and a clang, the sound no less thick than the bang of a heavy bell or a gong, long metal body slamming and dancing against stone.

 His feet and legs stuttered as he stepped both forwards and back, palms roughly meeting the wood of the counter, bouncing eagerly as if he might begin to run or be startled into action.

There had been a shout- something indignant, deeper than normal, not so much a battle cry yet no less defiant and sure. He thought he might have known it- he had to look. 

The feel of smoothed, aged wood beneath his palms, both flatter and rounder than liquid, solid and uninterrupted- the sound of warring battle-cries from the world outside and the sweltering feel of heat from both the forge and the terrible reign of dragonfire and sharp teeth and clawed mouth- all of it came secondary to his searching, the bulk of him overshadowed by the hefty forge window

It was too early in the battle and the warriors of Berk had been too prepared for there to have been a line outside the door, and well- most of everyone had already left for the other side of the island, where the assault had been most violent.

He felt the burn on the side of his hand as he brought his hand back, grazing it against the side of the table- he’d accidentally pressed it against the face of the sander’s belt. It’d stung and buzzed with a thickness not unlike the feeling of folded cloth crusted in dragon spit or the hard skin on the bottom of an old foot, though the skin on his own palm, he knew, wasn’t so thick or stubborn.

Past raging orange flames and scorching yellows he saw you, lonesome, outlined like a shadow in the light across the clearing. 

Your shoulders were stiff and your stance full as you swung the hard, metal-rimmed bottom of a bucket against the head of a beast- a Gronkle, its thick, green-brown head giving way to a wide maw as it bellowed.

 It bled, its blood splattering across your face as if it were naught but a shock of light or darkness made liquid; as if, instead, it was you who had been violently cut and not it.

There was no vicious, beautiful Astrid here to ogle at- not now, as there had been in the before times and as there would be later- no, just you. 

You, who had been meant for him… At least, he thought so. 

He wasn’t completely confident in the fact- the whole thing went rather unspoken of. It wasn’t a taboo per se, more something that lay heavy, made clear through few words a long time ago then made obscure by the lengths of time and age.

Still, there came a suresty with it even if there wasn’t much of a bond between the two of you, something that, for him, acted as a heavy comfort. In times like these, he leaned into it, felt the lump in his chest beat against it like his bones were nothing but taut leather and wood.

-

Blazing red hair, nearly imperceptible against the raging fires as she swung an axe- it took you a while to find any of the others.

Before you was fiery Tove, a tallish Viking girl-woman from a house named ‘Alfson,’ not so influential as it was just there and nearly forgotten. In it, she was like a polished gem among a lot of plain, unassuming stones. She was also a member of your peer group, aged older by about nearly a winter. She’d been born in the warmer month, when the sun was at its hottest and the earth was at its greenest.

You settled by her with crossed arms, close enough to be recognized as part of the group and yet not close enough to hint towards any one specific alliance. 

It was the darkest of nights above yet the fires rendered it light as day. You tried your hardest not to inhale any of the soot as you watched the rest -the two of four, really- fooling, knocking into each other with rough shoulders as you worked where it really mattered.

Your peer group was a large one. The number of you here was only a smallish fraction of a whole, the rest drawn away in the moment by other troubles and politics.

They’d grown complacent in the chaos, used to the raging fires and battle as you all were, carelessly leaving the fires around to burn and eat away at everything. You kept yourself still and casual in spite of it, knowing that, here, words and tussles were just as dangerous as the rock-shattering jaws of any beast.

Brigading was a task born more to temper the fires of the eager younger men more than it was to assure the sanctity of the village, though no task was without its uses- more often than not, however, you all ended up taking up a weapon and battling to your own ends.

Still, you took it seriously. 

You’d not so much been invited into the brigade as you’d one day picked up a bucket and started helping along in silence, though you probably would have been asked along eventually. 

Approval from the others had been slow to garner and yet it was strong, anchoring- you’d no intention of trying to shake it, though you believed it would be hard to.

With the thick wooden handle lying clenched within one hand, you stopped above the smooth, round top of a viking helmet, resting your foot against it as if you were at the edge of a cliff with a sword.

You’d rather be, at least in the day, when the smoke would be blown out and the air fresh and clear.

“-Codswallop!” The one with the protestant words was Duckmaw, who belonged to a set of intimidating burly arms and short-cropped, burned blonde-ish hair typically hidden under a helmet that had made him look bald, soot darkened face scratched and laying posed under your fuzzy brown boot. 

He was unusually brawny and bold for his breed but was also just as soft- he was an Ingerman. Ingermans, though bustingly fierce as any other Viking, also tended to be the most tempered.

“You lot are all the same- tubby poets, you are!” Bjorner spoke back with sharper words. He was the second, and a Thorston, though his second name, Evenson, did not quite match his ties. He also didn’t quite stand on par with his blood, a bit thicker and more prone to jumping into battle than the rest of his clan, who preferred a good bit of taunting first. 

His family was a branch-off- one of many, as there tended to be with the Thorstons. “Gooey hearts and even weaker swords.”

“Your words are of poor taste, though I’d expect no less from a bastard!” Duckmaw shrugged aggressively forwards, jerking away, half turning before he thought to face Bjorner again, stepping closer this time. He looked quite silly with his rounder, younger face and slightly more plump body, standing nearly chest-to-chest with a man who was about two winners his senior.

Absent from your lot were a Hilde and an Arne, who was a plump and tall, honorable nearly-man with blonde hair who was suspiciously absent. Away in a fashion that remained unexplained or pondered was a Jorunn, Frode and Hjerson and a Njal.

“Agh, the lot of them,” Trove spoke appealingly, panting slightly, having brought herself to your side, nudging you in the shoulder. She was thicker than you by about a half and a great deal taller, so her elbow landed more against the top of it than along the side, “We womenfolk know better, yes?”

You gave her a skeptical, apathetic eye before turning your attention back to the conflict, standing still and firm- she hadn’t knocked you hard enough to unbalance you though she had given you quite the hard jab, albeit half of it must have been without intention, the other half with surety and mild competition.

Trove didn’t take so much offense, probably more used to your silence and your stoic behavior now than before, when she also used to grace you with a gruff, judging eye.

“I’m no bastard!” Bjorner barked deeply, squaring his shoulders and stepping forwards again. You couldn’t make out all of it, the sound of splintering wood and the white noise of cooking everything raging for but a moment. “But at least my mother’s no manky whore!”

Gritting his teeth, Duckmaw didn’t back down, even as the thin brown furs still attached to Bjorner’s leather overcoat brushed up against his jaw. His arm- the one facing you- twitched up and down as if he’d wanted to lift it, meaty fists clenching uproariously. “Don’t speak of her that way, you-! You-!”

Your even face did nothing to hide your apathy, even as your eyes stayed trained on them.

Their argument went beyond petty bonds and snippish words- it was, in truth, not their argument at all- more an argument of their house, monoliths of Vikings to which they were of little consequence. It was some tiff over land and the excuse was woodstock. The conflict had grown itself into a mighty feud. 

“Tis the hobby of fools, to spend all their time arguing about their mamies,” Tove said, her freed red hair still doing wonders to blend her in with the fires, some sticking to skin and face, red, pale and slick with sweat like fish’s skin.

You nearly rolled your eyes. As you did, you caught something from the corner of your eye.

“How’ve you lot been doing?” You heard, nearly lost under the crackling of fires and crumbling of houses, the sound of battle-cry off in the distance. He had a plaintive, respectable voice, still somehow smoothe even under the assault of smoke and ash, all male and deep. 

…Ah. Here came the cavalry with a bucket of his own.

You graced swept blonde hair with a nod, what should have been wheat made russet by soot and fire, bursting from the back of Arne’s head where the front was covered by a metal mask- a hazard, as it was, metal being prone to heat and melt under the vicious might of dragon fire. 

You suspected, in a few years, he might have one mighty burn scar running down the side of his face- if he made it out of the whole ordeal alive, as it was. 

His clothes were torn and he sported a bloody gash on one arm- he’d gotten caught up in some battle, then. He was the only one of them who’d already been accepted by the warriors as one of their own, who’d taken up a sword with quiet determination as the rest of them stayed managing buckets.

You occasionally joined him- you hadn’t received any fuss either, and yet… Well, the others needed managing… Watching, more than anything.

He nodded back at you as you levied up your bucket, grasping it by the bottom.

You huffed a breath of hair, blowing away a heavy tuft of soot as it threatened to hit you in the face, unusually large yet very thin, almost enough to be called a burnt wood scrap.

“-That’s what I thought,” Bjorner said maliciously, distantly- he’d jerked forward, and during the time you’d been distracted, Duckmaw, younger and more naive, had faltered. 

You stilled. It didn’t matter so much who was what in this minor, petty battle of wills. It wouldn’t change the outcome. 

It was only by an odd fluke of politics that you’d ended up here, a fisher’s girl from nowhere island, and so while not at all illicit in origin, you were no better than a bastard. 

Here, in this world of blood and fire there was no room for the girl in the woods. You knew that with a quiet, simmering surety, painfully aware of the small square booklet in your back pocket, padding against your thigh as you moved, fresh leather delicately held shut with a clasp, pressing deeply the dulling, colored faces of soft, pressed flowers.

[bluestarjay]

Oooh I am so tired of the twinkification of haikyuu characterssss Istg if I see one more fanart of Ushijima where he looks like the love interest of a shoujou anime, and is lean/skinny I'm gonna actually scream wth guys he's beefy he's MUSCULAR he is a professional athlete and is like 6"4 I keep seeing fanarts where he has more of Tendou's physique and it bothers me sm like I always see fanart of him and I don't recognize its him cause he's so skinny and I'm like "Who is that? He's wearing the Shiratori- Oh my God, that's not Ushijima, is it????" And then I check the tags, and it is, and I'm like ???? Like, I'm all for drawing characters according to your headcanons, but Ushijima??? Lean??? And I'll go on Pinterest to get ship stuff bc it's less organized and lowkey easier to find stuff since it's just pictures, yk? But I'll look at it, and it's all that weird ass 2000s-2010s artstyle. Take Tsukihina, for example, and Hinata looks like a child. Like Tsukishima is HUGE, and Hinata is TINY!! Their height difference is not that big. And I feel like a lot of it is from comics or doujinshi, and the style just looks like it's from something R rated ykwim???? Like all of it is just helpless baby Hinata 🥺🥺 and his huge tall 'alpha' bf Tsukishima who hates everybody but him. Like they just take random characters and twinkify them; they make them overtly feminine for no reason and it makes me sooo madddd I am sick of fuckin Thumbelina Hinata and Levi Ackerman Ushijima make it stop!!!! OR THE OPPOSITE WHERE THEY MAKE RANDOM CHARACTERS SUPER DOMINANT AND SEXY AND WEIRD BC 1 THEY ALWAYS USE THE HIGH SCHOOL VERSIONS OF THEM AND 2 THEY ARE FUCKING LOSERS AND NERDS THEYRE NOT CALLING A GODDAMN SOUL "BABYGIRL 🫦😩" THEY ARE CALLING EACH OTHER MORONS AND INSULTINF THEIR HAIRCUTS **edit, I just wanted to add that all the fanarts I see of the popular characters, e.g ushijima, atsumu/osamu, oikawa, etc, all have the same exact face toooo, And I actually HATE the kind of art where people make them *so* buff they look like a Jojo or DBZ character,, someone who reblogged brought that up a bit and REALLL I hate it. And this is kinda irrelevant, but I think people also forget that people's body types change over time. Changing a characters body type (at least according to the character/source) should be fine, as that's what happens as you age. A character from an apocalypse show probably isn't gonna be super buff, but rather lean bc yes they are technically working out in the fact that they are traveling a lot and idk like killing zombies or whatever the basis for the show is, but there's also gonna be a loss of food yk, so they'd still be rather skinny. And that'd be the case for any body type. A high schooler isn't gonna have the same body as an adult, and people don't usually account for that, which is fine, I'm not saying anybody has to because it's such a small thing usually, but it's just a small pet peeve of mine. (I want a muscular post time skip Osamu with some chubbiness so bad he loves to eat, but he does still like working out. I just know that man has some chub on his stomach and I want it 😩😩)

[probablydinosaurs]

five joking about his life or throwing it in their faces makes the siblings uneasy. they cant FATHOM it and it hurts. tbh i feel once they aren't all in such danger and ignoring his warnings and ring leader like behavior , they would slowly start spoiling him a bit. he wouldn't notice at all at first but over time, he gets a deep sense that everyone pities him but he cant place it. he'd start denying any hand outs or good will bc he doesn't want to be seen as a headcase that needs coddling. and i think different siblings are in different camps if u put "baby" and "old man" on a sliding scale. none of these are like extreme stances, more just the vibes they feel from five.

Luther: old man 80% bc hes the only one that see's five's "older" self and can 100% say. same guy no changes. mentally unsound…. but like five stated in that whole fiasco, Luther has daddy issues and cant like. see that old man in such a young man. Luther has 1 half a brain cell. his need to nod and agree to every old man he listens to illnesses wont allow it. so he weirdly flip flops. he also develops the habit of trying to pick five up to calm him down, witch ends very poorly each time.

Diego: protective brother energy. cant fathom his brother got THAT much trauma in him. and is older then him. 13 years of being all the same age. 13 years of sharing the same birthday. and now well everyone ages up together, five is in his own corner being like 67 well the rest are like mm idk math 40 something. Diego just cant…think that far. denial. every time he thinks he's used to this old man or starts seeing him as the same age as everyone, five info dumps about the inner workings of a specific gun or the how good the wine in the celler will be 37 years exactly from now and to wait…Diego just mentally reboots.

Allison: baby camp. didn't take him very seriously back in the day either bc his ego is the size of a watermelon. and oh look the lil guy thinks bc he has more life behind him then us, he thinks he's the smartest one here. yeah right. she makes him his coffee when he wakes up or folds his Landry bc she needs to do hers and he forgot to take his out. five just thinks shes being passive aggressive but its more "if i don't then he might hurt himself or mumbling to himself about how forgetful he has become and i do NOT want to here that right how. il just do it. " tough love babying. five sometimes lets her brush his hair when he's in a bad state of mind.

klaus: depends on the day. he is the one who tease him about his height the most. i think Klaus tries to pinch his cheeks at least once a day and nearly got a blade through his hand at attempt # 23. but he also is second one that weirdly respects him the most. complementing how happy he looks DUE to his retirement and not just in general. likes buying him the stuffiest old man clothes ever from off the road and down an alley thrift shops, thinking everyone would find them silly but five like. genuinely adores them and borderlines on feeling the want to hug him but neh. too stubborn. almost though. witch is rare. five will never admit that he thinks Klaus has a good fashion sense.

ben: the brother that ruffles his hair the most. the two that severed the family. they have a unspoken energy about them. you don't mention my death, i wont bring up your past deal. Ben doesn't really care anyway. on the "i got my brother back, that's all that matters." camp with viktor. fuels five's need to bicker on topics. their hard ass but still playful energy balances each other out. is the one that tells klaus that the clothes he picks out for five is too much and he will hate them but gets surprised every time five likes them. riiight right. he wouldn't have the tastes as the 13 year old i remember him as. he downs scotch like a mad lad. gotta remember that.

viktor: leader of the "he could have come back to us as an acorn like dad warned and id still keep him in my pocket." camp. just happy to have his favorite sibling back. though they admit five also being the most open with him makes him uneasy. he wants to listen about the past 45 years but it can be very existential for viktor. five understands and lets him breath if its too much. (stealing this from this post) i feel like five owns and somehow still has on him a very worn and well loved copy of viktor's book. with notes and highlights scribbled in them. the cover fell off and five sewn it back on then poorly laminated it with the commission's laminating machine . viktor would cry if he saw it. full blown meltdown together.

[realclaramorrow]

wat spoilers (whole thing this time). more thoughts I'm full of thoughts (made better from my emotion blinded previous finished book rant)

ok now that I've had some time to sit and think, I enjoyed the book AND I think it couldve taken a couple more editing rounds. I'm sure none of these are new thoughts. I can't believe in my previous post I was right about everything except my opinion on dalinar.

kaladin telling ishar hes szeth's therapist and then being like man idk either was a clunky joke and really took me out of the moment. "honor is dead but I'll see what I can do" is a good line but also a bit cringeworthy at this point? I think his ending is at first glance what he needs but if you look deeper he's isolated from everyone he's ever loved (except syl) and has to be on the clock as a therapist for 9 people with multiple millenia of trauma 24/7. I'm upset for him. This is not a break.

adolin's situation is also good at a glance but bad long term. just like kaladin and shallan he's completely isolated from his loved ones (except maya). shakadolin was too powerful, they had to be stuck in different dimensions. he never got to forgive his father. maya is basically the only method of communication between free nations. at least he and gawx can be bros? I love the way they won azir. he's possibly continuing the absent kholin father tradition by accident.

shallan is pregnant maybe? I dont like that, I think pregnancy plots are usually stupid and poorly done. hope she can get back to the physical world because giving birth in shadesmar seems bad and dangerous (painspren, no midwife, not much access to food/water, no one she loves to support her). I wish shallan had had more complex thoughts about rlain and renarin because she's smart and while dealing with a great many things I think should've at least briefly thought like "oh god they are going to have such a terrible time in the physical world I need to make it so clear that I am supportive."

I understand that Jasnah was exhausted but the argument for thaylenah felt a tiny bit out of character for her. she's admittedly not great at talking to people and was caught off guard at every turn, but I think previous scenarios showed she could've handled it better, especially with so much on the line.

I can't believe (actually, I very much can) that odium did that to gav. thats so fucked up. and preserving his city's souls in the spiritual realm? absolutely fuck off. his grandchildren are safe but the only kholin grandchild doesn't get to be, directly because of him? this is a 20 year old with almost no real memories of the people that loved him, maybe a few faint ones from age 5 or before. this kid was groomed to be a lamb for slaughter for fifteen years.

I have hope for moash redemption? I imagine kaladin showing up and he's literally a herald (of second chances) and moash (with investiture vision) is like WHY ARE YOU GOD WHAT THE FUCK

the shattered plains got the best ending it could, in my opinion. free listener state!! yes!!

I appreciate that dalinar's death wasnt in combat, but by the strength of the storm. he was a king until the end, and I feel bad that I ragged on him so hard because he immediately started changing for the better. also, claimed by another? I can't tell if that's just death or if thaidakelsier wants him bad or if another god has spoken for him. gotta know. maybe valor?

also, I really need to read the sunlit man. for as much as I love sigzil you'd think I would've gotten around to it already. I also have not read: warbreaker, elantris, the emperor's soul, yumi and the nightmare painter, shadows for silence, sixth of the dusk, or white sand. its not like I wont be busy during these 7 years.

[thefirstknife]

idk if you've talked about this, but Maya says something interesting in her "final" message to the Young Wolf. She says the YW should ponder "iterations" of the conversation on the riverbank (iirc) but I don't remember the YW mentioned in the Dark Timeline, and in the Epistemic lore tab, Praedyth says "the figure always changes." Is the YW a unique individual or do they exist in other timelines too? (I feel like I've missed a few details so I'm hoping you can answer. 😅)

It's a really cool message that will be interesting to revisit from time to time.

I leave this to you now, when it is too early to act. Before you have the faculty to understand its gravitas. You were offered the age you've fought to restore. Everything we've lost. You won't find it on this narcissist's station. I will set it in front of you, finely crafted and tuned. You mistakenly label it hubris, and resist. And you know... failure is a catalyst: it breeds invention. Would you comprehend the endless permutations of our conversation on the riverbank? I was only trying to change your mind. To help you see a better future. That exchange... did not always end in your favor. It does not have to still. You believe my ideology, virulent. All right. Know that I have bled across time, and under the skin of the cosmos. My knowledge became its fabric, filled its vessels, through its mind. Humanity is scattered, yet to see a Collective, focused. But in this infinite network the Vex have created... There is one answer. A Golden Timeline... With a heavy cost.

It took a few reads for me to wrap my mind around this. Maya definitely confirms that this happened in multiple timelines, in some way. We're not really sure if it's exactly the same though, obviously, since we can't really check.

The interesting bit is that the few timelines that Elsie has seen, all of them have failed because, essentially, the YW never became what they did because we didn't destroy the Black Heart. Those timelines have failed completely. But there seems to be other timelines in which we do exist, except we're always someone else (kinda like keeping everyone's Guardian canon, in a way) which we know from Epistemic as you've noted, and it's really cool:

Some visions he gets once, while some come back over and over again. One recurring image: a piece of the Traveler cracked off from its body, lying belly-up in a forest, with a small figure standing in front of it. The figure changes every time, but the sickly glow of the Traveler doesn't.

This is us regaining our Light at the Shard of the Traveler in the Red War, so it's post-Black Heart.

I think the YW is unique in a way that they only exist in the timeline where they destroy the Black Heart (D1 base story), but since there's an unknown number of timelines, this person is always someone different (so there's no one canon YW, it could be any of us). There's also timelines where we never become the YW because Elsie never helps us and we never destroy the Black Heart and things spiral from there.

It always remains a question if anyone using the Vex and their Network and technology is actually seeing real existing things, or perhaps simulations or possibilities. I do wonder if they left Maya around with the Echo for some future purpose or at least to keep their options open. Also intrigued about her mentioning "a Golden Timeline" and if that will mean anything in the future or if it's just her yapping from the Network. I did not expect her to stay around and especially not with the Echo in her posession so I'm super excited about the possibility of storylines with this in the future.

[5five5five5five5five5five]

Pls headcanons of a flirty dolores [human] and five .

Trying to forget "that season".

Denial stage activated.

Pls and thank you.

Good day/night.

OOOHH YES! but first i want to write a human Dolores of my own then we can get to the flirty stuff. * she is in her mid 30's and works as a librarian who LOVES books and is very smart and pretty and perfect.

she is MADDENINGLY in love with the Noir detective novel series " Five "max" Hargreeves and the Umbrella of Time. a long running series about a Old man who turns into a young man some times and solves crime with his dog Mr. pennycrumb. * she hated that when they turned the books into movies, they hired a actor that looked NOTHING like how she sees him in her head. Five looks like how she sees him in her head. she cant pinpoint why it bugs her so much. its just wrong. thats not him??? * one day well sorting books, she no clips into the backroom subways and gets stuck. idk how. s4 logic aka make shit up. but she thinks "what would Five do?" and copy his mapping and travel style. * and then they meet......Jesus my kinnie ass heart melts even thinking about it lol. * "five?!" "Delores?!.....are you..real this time....." "wait how do you know my name??....and yes i am very much real? are YOU?" "how do you know MY name?? and yes??" then they nervously chuckle and tell each other how they know each other. * they get a bit sad that the others Delores and five were not real and five admits he got the better end of the stick by being a cool book character....she didn't deserve to be just a......mannequin. but Delores reassures him that his life needed her and that's what gave it so much value. "and at least you got to physically hold me~ i just had....really embaressing art of you...." *Delores drawing him then she thinks he's not looking. she wishes he was a bit older but her self shipping ass is used to his age "powers" but knows this Five cant turn back. at least he's not 13 Five lol. *he's tried to explain his age situation a few times.... shes so understanding about it and five, for the first time, feels seen....and got does his face get red. she knows he's a old man. she loves him BECAUSE he's actually an old man. ANYWAY TO THE FLIRTY STUFF. MY BRAIN IS JUST ON FIRE WITH HUMAN DELORES. * they CAN NOT stop looking at each other. five feels so stupid being THIS flustered. its not his wife. he knows this. but god....shes so stunning. younger then his Delores but he doesn't mind. * she's taller then him no matter what. she was taller then him when he was old, young doesn't matter. shes a tall women and he loves that about her. *her always behind his shoulder correcting his math. and him huffing and admitting shes right. *she likes to head to him. he likes listening. hearing her voice with none of his own voice fused in is so refreshing. he would read his head in her lap and just relax for once in his life. *them slow dancing and mumbling soft words of comfort to each other. *she loves booping his nose. at first, it bits him because the handler used to but ends up finding it nice. its a trait she would have. *he loves watching her move. dance. walk. talk. shes in front of him. again, their eyes are glued to each other and its hard hard not to. just knowing their loves are real keeps them going. *that art meme of all the lovestruck chibis surrounding a very flustered person. that's Delores if she walked into the deli. imagine all the fives looking over and melting in surprise. crumbling in their seats because they are filled with "i miss my wife,tails" energy. the five we are following for this post has to fight them back and give protective glares well she admits the attention is nice and oh god! so many fives! *when five finds a way to return, he doesn't fucking hide it and want to introduce her to his family so bad. she is worried about ending up in a different timeline. he understands the risk but at this point, he just wants the love of his life. and Shes so starved for adventure that she agrees wholeheartedly.

sorry if this wasn't all flirty themed stuff, i just really wanted to write Delores.

[that-starry-freak]

uhm

So

More children for @sunny-sourzii !!!! (Also tagging @melodi-jackson cause I feel like you like seeing the kids too)

uhhh- first off!!! The twins! Yes, another set, I like making twins, sue me

(Also its raining SO hard rn and I'm so happy)

anyway, Morning glory and Moonflower!! Or Glory and Datura, as they're usually called. They're the 2nd youngest set of siblings in the third generation! Only older then Venus, Mars, and uh- listen i read the names once im.not very good at retaining knowledge

Glory is defiently the more extroverted of the two. She looks up to her siblings, and loves to play with them. Eccpecially giving them little makeovers (which usually ar exist her putting stickers on their face and scribbling red marker like blush, but yknow, shes got the spirit) he eccpecially loves when Lune does his makeup. He likes feeling pretty. Sbe also really enjoys bright colors, and her favorite color is rainbow! Though he's a bit impartial to pink! She's also very energetic, probaly one of the most energetic out of her siblings, but she always knows how to calm herself down for her twin brother. Her favorite stuffed animal is also because it reminded her of Datura!!

(Also nvm im not happy anymore the storm is giving me a headache)

Oh- wait- let's go it may be going away)

Datura however is the much more shy and introverted of the two. He is very reserved, calm, and quiet. He loves to read, and started reading full on chapter books at a pretty young age. He has social anxeity, and really opens up around Glory and a few others of his siblings. He also really admires Chica, but is too scared to talk to her. He also realized he was a boy pretty young, as he really didn't like when people would call him a girl and treat him like one, and he always felt quite a bit different from his sister. He takes after sun, ftm <3. Though he takes after moon in most other regards.

Aaannndd- yeah!! I love these two tbh. I love their designs, eccpecialy Glory's, and I think they're really sweet. Also I like their names.

And now to the other child i made! Thats right! I made a third one! I did all of this yesterday btw I was on the roll-

This is Luna Moth!! Or Luma, for short. (Also im changing their pronouns maybe to she/they) they're only a few years older then Datura and Glory

They're the family theatre kid, and likes putting on plays and puppet shows and just generally preforming for the kids in the daycare, as well as for the triplets. They like older musicals and theatre rather than new ones, but im not gonna name any cause I havnt watched any!!!! (Not Broadway ones at least) but idk they probaly like Shakespeare phantom of the opera and stuff

The drawing to the left is more of what they wear casually, outside of the daycare. Also I havnt decided if the antennas are part of them or the hats, though I'm probaly gonna do it wear its part of them.

And uhh- yeah! Luma!

I also have these little headshot draawings of all my children so far- (6 of them!) 2 vers

Shaded

And unshadwd

(From left to right. Top row: Solar, Lune, Nebula. Bottom row: Glory, Datura, Luma)

And uhhh- yeah!!!!

[halitis]

hal's incredibly correct opinion on dc ages (backed by Vibes and vague calculations)

prefacing this very loudly and saying that, this if dc could stick to a fucking timeline. so everything in ehere? its going off vibes and vague relations to other characters ages. obviously these are not the actual ages of the characters but its what i think they SHOULD be. organised oldest to youngest!

hal, 45: i always thought he was one of the older members of the league, though not by much. i think hes 2 years older than oliver ;p

barry, 44: idk why. but he gives me 44 year old vibes. no corrections thanks xoxo

bruce, 43: took dick under his wing when he was 19-ish, giving them a 10 year age gap. so his age is going off dick.

oliver, 43: i always see him as the same age as bruce. idc man they just Are...

selina, 42: one year younger than bruce but so incredibly barely to me. like "a year" in the way that they are probs 6 months apart or something, idk their actual birthdates.

clark, 38: i think hes similar in age to dinah, but i have No idea why i decided this... he feels like he should be older gonna be real.

dinah, 37: i always think shes roughly 6? years younger than oliver. and thats abt it on my reasoning!

jade, 35: i think she was like. 2ish, maybe 1 year older than roy when they started hooking up. but i lean more towards 2.

linda, 35: i always thought she was 2 years older than wally but i actually dont know Why i thought this... i just did.

barbara, 34: she's similar in age range to dinah, while still being a bit younger. but older than dick. they had a maybe 2 year age difference? it makes sense to me at least.

roy, 33: according to me, he had lian when he was 18/19, lian's now 14 so. thats math baby. ik technically time fuckery happened so that lian was didn't age linerally but fuck that.

wally, 33: the same age as roy. that man has kids and shit...,

dick, 32: because i always think he's 1 year younger than roy.

cassandra, 29: she was like. 17 when she became batgirl. that makes her like 1 (2 years could be argued) older than jason?

jason, 28: jason was 13/14 when he became robin, dick was 18 when he became nightwing so that gives them like a nearly 4 year age gap. i cant be certain tho because its kinda unclear when he actually became robin.

stephanie, 27: 1 year older than tim because she was in college while he was still in high school im prettee sure?

tim, 26: hes 2 years younger than jason, nothing anyone says will tell me otherwise. 26. do not fight me on this. (dw bbg u can escape the 17 curse in my mind)

connor (hawke not kent), 26: gonna be so real i thought he was around 28. but oliver was 17 when he was born so nvm!

duke, 24: there is a 2 and a bit year age difference between him and tim. why? uhhhh... he started signal when he was 17. im sure theres some maths in there somewhere that makes it make sense.

mia, 19: oliver was like 36? when he saved mia at age 12 so they have a 24 year age gap. for some reason was incredibly hard for me to calculate.

damian, 17: to me? hes 3 years older than lian. i also think its funny if hes rhe next to inherit the 17-year-old curse.

maps, 17: same age as damian!

lian, 14: i have no reasoning she just is. hope this helps <3