#i have both these things and they are not the same and that is ok alright me talking about being deaf is not automatically excluding you

[menofprogress]

I saw someone say that Viktor constantly reaching out to Jayce and trying to get him on his side after he initially left him and after Jayce fought, rejected and shot at him makes no sense but i disagree.

Imho jayce and viktor are incredibly, INSANELY codependent, they were each others closest contact for nearly a decade, saw each other every day, single mindedly worked towards the same goal, etc. Their lives immediately take a nosedive once theyre even slightly separated from each other (viktor nearly dies, jayce kills a kid, viktor atomises sky and then nearly kills himself, jayce lands in apocalypse land and viktor starts a cult). They instinctively always act like theyre still partners, even when theyre clearly supposed to be enemies because not being together feels unnatural to them.

Jayce doesnt act consciously when reviving viktor using the hexcore and YES viktor is hurt and distressed bc he was essentially turned into rio and he feels like he needs to leave, but then what? He probably finds out about jayces disappearance a few days later and is like "oh no, oh fuck, i know I left HIM, but i didnt want this" i mean he probably thought jayce was dead.

So for a few months he builds his commune and deliberately integrates sentimental things about his and jayces partnership (his 'home' looks like the hexgates, hes still wearing the blanket, for some reason theres a forge in the commune) which, imho, shows hes mourning and missing jayce in his own way. (A special personal hc of mine is that he grew out his hair out of grief). And in the pit we have jayce sobbing and crying bc he misses both mel and viktor so much.

So jayce reappears and viktors like "heeeyyyy bestie, oh my god, i missed u come visit me!!!" And jayce is rightfully confused like "didnt YOU break up with ME?" and viktor is like "nooo, hahaha, i was crazy back then, just forget about it, pls visit me?" And is only mildly concerned by jayce killing one of his followers (and then hes also mostly concerned about jayce, not salo lol)

Then jayce arrives and shoots him and its very painful bc viktor fully didnt expect jayce to hurt him! Hes so shocked 😭

Anyways after that Viktor "attacks" (more like "does a mating dance for") jayce in the council room and AGAIN asks him to join his emo band and is AGAIN shocked and hurt when jayce genuinely fights back and rejects him. Viktor is temporarily hurt and gives singed the ok to start the process.

And then as the fully transformed herald he STILL talks about how happy he is to see jayce and doesnt really put any effort into neutralising him. Like he could have just shot him hbxhnxgkhfj

All the while we have jayce talking big talk about stopping viktor, but when it comes down to it?? He doesnt manage to take him out and still talks to him. And then he sees Viktor in the astral realm and once there is a SLIVER of hope hes immediately like "oh thank god i can stop trying to kill him, this was never going to work"

All of this isnt contradictory to me. It means that both of them actually know that they should be on opposing sides now, they start acting according to the idea that the other one is now an enemy, they make plans accordingly, but when it comes down to it theyre reluctant to actually follow through bc that would mean a life without the other and thats worse than staying enemies forever.

Viktor kept reaching out, hoping to be partners again after MULTIPLE rejections and jayce couldnt bear to kill viktor or to let him die alone. Being apart from each other is quite literally the worst thing for either of them, so the instinct to reach out to each other will always take over.

[lilietsblog]

I was taught at school how to construct a face out of a lot more lines than just one in the middle. When I followed that method my faces looked very awkward and unnatural at first, but it helped me A LOT over time. I have a very hard time with visual memory, so a method that told me what to draw where in like, purely mathematical terms, helped a lot!

Unfortunately that method was front only. Still, I think it taught me stuff that's applicable at other angles also when you practice enough and internalize it and start just /seeing/ it!

This is a lot easier to do digitally because you can use The Sketch Layer. In real life you do it with a pencil and pray you can erase everything cleanly and don't accidentally draw any line too thick. Love drawing digitally.

(That said, this is me drawing with a fucking MOUSE. In real life I could use a ruler for these,,, ok i could have used the straight line tool i have in my art program i chose specifically for having the straight line tool, whatever. Part of why I drew this with a mouse was to prove a point that you dont need to have Good Manual Dexterity to make use of these guidelines)

(Also, the way I was taught to draw this produced the same face every time, and I struggled with sameface syndrome a lot. To cut this bullshit off at the root, I'm going to point out points of individualization when they appear)

Draw an upside down egg. Or something between an upside down egg and an oval. Or if you have the eye for it the approximate shape of the character's head. But really at this point an upside down egg is the necessary part.

Draw a line down the middle of the face vertically and horizontally! This is where this guideline works only for head-on view, in 3/4 you do the exact same thing but you need to curve it. Good luck with that lmao.

Draw a line slightly above the horizontal line. The distance between them is the approximate vertical size of the eyes. This is a major point of individualization. Draw two characters and how high up their top eyeline is from their bottom eyeline will be a significant part of how different or similar they look.

FROM THE TOP EYELINE measure half the distance to the point of the chin / bottom of the face. Draw a horizontal line across the entire face there. Using a ruler helps.

Draw a pair of vertical lines determining where & how big the character's eyes are! I was taught correct proportions for this, but from experience, that's bullshit. This is a point of individualization. Make sure there is A gap both between eyes and nose, and eyes and the side of the face, make the gaps roughly the same on both sides, and you're good. (VERY roughly on my example lol)

ONTO THE HELL PART: THE NOSE. The first step is simple though! Extend the inner vertical eyelines down until you meet the horizontal line we drew there earlier.

Draw two vertical lines between the midline and the outer noselines, roughly around the middle. This is a point of individualization! This is where you get wide nose vs narrow nose!

Draw diagonal lines from the points of intersection (between the lower eyeline and the inner nose width lines) to the upper inner eye box corner, then extend them above the eyes into the eyebrows. This is absolute dogshit to do with a mouse, and also a point of individualization. Make the eyebrows high or low, whatever. Don't worry about the character looking like they're frowning, we won't keep those lines.

Draw some more diagonals, at the bottom this time. These are your nostril part shapes. Point of individualization.

Draw the rest of the fucking nose. Which is to say, the nostril / nose tip line. The bad news is I forgot exactly what the formal instructions for this are, the good news is that that's because they're bullshit. Absolute and total point of individualization. You have the rest of the construction to anchor it to where and what size it should be, now just draw what this character's nose looks like from the front. Nostrils go roughly on the intersection, how visible they are / how upturned the nose is - all yours.

Ok we're done wth the nose. Draw vertical lines down from the middle of the eye box. (I draw it dotted because otherwise it gets too busy for me at this point)

The mouth line goes from the middle of the nose to chin line to these vertical lines. Yes, all the way. No, you don't have to keep the entire line in the finished drawing. If you're not doing hyperrealistic intricately shaded style, this is just your guideline for where, like, the smile lines go (outside of the mouth). Don't bother with the facial expression at this time.

The lips! Point of individualization. The rough guideline is that the lower lip is a single curve, while the upper lip tends to have two raised points with a dip between them, roughly corresponding to the position of nostrils above. Roughly. The guideline I was taught drew a Very White face, and this is one of the points where if you want to do not that, do not that.

The vertical lines from the nose to the upper lip. This is a 3D shape that is for real on your face. Touch above your lip, it's there. Obviously you can later stylize it away, but if you want to do any shading at all, this is going to help greatly.

Ears! All those horizontal lines we drew earlier - upper eyeline, lower eyeline, nose bottom line - are now telling us where and how big approximately they are. Just a nice curve from the lower eyeline to the upper eyeline and then back to the nose bottom line. Point of individualization - wide ears, narrow ears, long or short earlobe, ears angled away from the head, elf ears, go wild!

Ok so this part was kind of supposed to go way at the start when we were first drawing the horizontal lines, but we haven't really needed it for anything else, so now is the time. The hairline! See that distance between the upper eyeline and the bottom of the nose line? That's how high up above the upper eyeline you draw yet another horizontal line.

Ok going back to the eyes. So the top of the eybox is the top of the upper eyelid! Now draw the bottom of the upper eyelid (which is to say, the actual shape of the visible eye) somewhere under it. You have the nice dotted line from before down the middle helping you with symmetry, too. Point of individualization!

Now the lower eyelid. It goes approximately where the bottom of the eyebox is, but y'know a curve instead of a straight line. Point of individualization again, of course.

Time to erase unnecessary lines if you're drawing in pencil, and transition to a new layer if you're drawing digital. We're done with construction, time to enflesh it. I'm only doing the bare basics of it here, because I am drawing with a mouse, but this is where you can shade, customize the facial expression, determine the general outline of the face by adding cheeks/cheekbones/etc.

Ta-da! Believe you me, I could NOT have drawn a face this nice and even and deliberate without the construction steps WITH A FUCKING MOUSE.

the person who can explain to me how to construct a face gets a million dollars. i've tried that thing with drawing a circle with a line on it a thousand times and it DOESNT WORK

[luimagines]

Ok, now what would the links do if the group was travelling somewhere that's really cold and snowy, and the group is separated in a snow storm? Now imagine reader and the link in question are close, lovers perhaps, perhaps they're just besties, but the point is they're lost, seperated by from the group, and it's cold af-

I personally think being stuck with twilight would be the best scenario here, because Wolfie is a living heater. Problem solved.

And also, wild has all the right gear for any weather so you'd probably be ok with him too.

BUT- what're your thoughts? Who do you think would handle this well and who would let reader freeze on accident?

I hope you don't mind if I do headcanons on this one! It'll just make it easier to answer your questions that way. :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Legend

Oh honey, you're in good hands.

You know he's got like 15 different items to help you out.

He's already putting on his gear and throwing stuff at you to keep you both warm

He's complaining the entire time though.

Legend's probably been through a situation like this before and now he's just cursing his luck

He's more annoyed than worried

Because of course this had to happen to him

Of all people

He might... leave you behind by mistake. Or at least begin to do so since he's used to continuing on in poor conditions

Yell at him if his pace begins to speed up and you're struggling to catch up.

He'll slow down when he realizes that you don't exactly have the same experience as he does

He'll let you catch up and go at your speed for a little while

Only to get re-annoyed with the circumstances and begin power-walking through the snow again.

He would probably try going through the night to catch up with the rest of the group so you would need to slow him down

Freezing through the night is not a concern of his.

He's too pissed off to care.

Is probably causing all the snow to melt around him in his rage.

....Maybe don't try to make conversation

Let him stomp it out

Sky

Oh no

Oh dear

Good luck

Now he's from the highlands

Get it?

Because the islands are high- they- they're in the Sky- Nevermind

That being said, he's used to colder temperatures

Not freezing

Hear that?

He's doomed.

Doomed I say!

And so are you if someone doesn't get their act together!!!

You both are better off staying put and huddling for warmth.

It's a good thing Sky gives great hugs.

Just wait for the others to come find you and regroup.

Not that Sky is going to want to stay put and wait on someone else.

He's still a Link after all

But good golly you better find a way to keep him put

Sit on him if you have to

Solves both problems

Four

He's going to freeze as well.

He may have an item or two that can help him.

But he's small, ok?

He doesn't have a lot of body heat to go around.

And he's not going to risk it and go out into a storm with ill-equipped gear and a lack of direction

No sir, he won't.

You are both going to sit down and wait.

He tries to avoid it early on, but after a few hours, fire or no fire, he will eventually latch onto you like a koala

I don't make the rules.

Snuggle time!

Please don't let him fall asleep.

That being said, I think that with the two of you missing, the group find you in record time.

You don't have to wait long in the snow storm until rescue comes.

So no need to panic

You both are going to be a-ok. :)

Time

He is on high alert the second you've been separated from the group.

Time makes sure that you are as close to him as physically possible.

He also makes sure to put away his armor. That amount of metal would have him frozen faster than a poe with an ice rod.

He (most likely) will have his equipment to deal with the cold, but his main concern will be on you the entire time.

Not that Time has a lot of ways to deal with the cold to begin with.

I'd imagine that he burns brighter than more so the cold won't bother him as much.

But being out in the middle of nowhere in a blizzard is not very conducive for a survivable experience.

Instantly tries to find a cave instead.

Does not hesitate to use Din's Power to warm the air and keep a fire going.

He somehow also keeps you from burning when he uses said power.

Don't ask me how. I'm using Suspension of Belief.

Once the fire has started, he'll sit you down and drag you close.

Cuddles for warmth. Obviously. Unless? o.o

Kidding.

Mostly.

Time goes full provider mode.

You cannot convince me that the dude who essentially played hero for his entire life will be able to turn that off on a whim

He's a caretaker and he's going to keep you both alive no. matter. what.

The others are going to have to wait. You come first.

Twilight

Oh, he's fine.

He's borderline built for this weather, you kidding?

However, he knows that you both have to reconvene with the group at some point.

So out comes Wolfie.

He can track like the best of them but may forget that you can't travel through it as well as he can.

He makes sure to keep you close.

You may have to have a hand on him at all times as he both try to make your way through the weather.

When you get too cold to move on though, Twilight transforms back into his hylian form and gives you his best gear.

He takes of the wolf pelt and wraps you in it.

Then he takes out all the other clothes that he has and puts them on himself.

They're lighter than his best gear but he's going to put as many layers as he can tolerate

Then he picks you up and carries you until he finds a safe place where you can spend the night.

He (like many in his family) is a man of action and is going to make sure you have nothing to worry about.

Twilight is going to forget that you're a team in his effort to keep everything under control

He means well so don't take it to heart

It's how he manages his stress

Your options are let him do what he wants and go along with it or try to (kindly) remind him that you can do just as much as he can

Results may vary for option number two.

Warrior

Fire rod?

Fire rod.

No need to worry he's going to have some fun.

You might have to worry about having your eyebrows singed off instead.

But let's just say the cold is not going to be a problem for the foreseeable future.

What's more worrying is trying to find your way back to the group.

That is going to be a problem and a half.

Kinda.

I'm tempted to say that Warrior shoots multiple fire columns into the sky to act like giant magical flares.

....Hopefully nothing else catches on fire.

You have to admit though, it looks awesome.

Your best bet would be that the others find you first before you find them because Warrior is not the best tracker known to man.

Wolfie is going to be your best friend.

Warrior cries when he sees Woflie.

He blames it on the wind chill on his eyes.

Wolfie knows better. XD

Wind

Help this poor child.

He's from an island.

A tropical island.

Not to mention he's just a kid!

Sure he's brave and smart and resourceful but to be trapped in a snowstorm?

He's not going to know what to do.

You better have a better inkling of how to handle yourselves.

Or you better place your bets in the group trying to find you first.

But he's not going to be of much help.

Would most likely be a liability in a situation like this.

I'm not saying that to be mean. I know he'd want to do his best to help and to pull his own weight and probably do most of the work since he's "The Hero".

But it's that same attitude that is going to put him in the way most of the time.

Not to mention that (to my knowledge) he doesn't have the gear to help out in the snow.

You're going to have to sit him down and give him a talkin' to because he's going to understand the problem you've both found yourselves in very easily.

Wolfie better be on his way and be there fast.

Wild

He's having the time of his life.

Between his gear to keep out the cold, his lack of self-preservation, and the fact that he can set anything on fire whenever he feels like- y'all are golden.

One of those people that'll accidentally take off without in their excitement, so please hang onto him so you're not left behind. ^.^*

Wild is also the one carrying all the food so you don't have to worry much on that front either.

Even if he didn't, he's also a hunter and is more than willing to hunt down dinner and cook it for you. :D

And that's still not even talking about his potions, his sheikah slate that can connect to Wind's Pirate Stone, and his ability to get lost figure out where he's going.

Aside from the boys already mentioned, if there was ever a need to draw the short stick and get stuck somewhere like this be aware that it could be very... very worse.

(Sorry Wild)

Granted, it'll probably take longer to find others.

Or for them to find you.

Let's be real, you're not going to be staying in one spot.

So! You're going to be set traveling with Wild!

That boy has everything covered! There's nothing for you to worry about!

Save for maybe him running off to explore without you.

And of course... because of that... prolonging the ability to return to the group...

Take pictures. At least have fun with it!

Hyrule

Ok- Mr. Streets Smarts would be an amazing bet to rely on.

He may not be the best tracker, but he knows his stuff.

Hyrule has an amazing sense of direction.

He may have a bad habit of wandering off.

But all those who wander are not always lost, you know what I'm saying?

You may be separated from the group but that doesn't mean that there's no way to find shelter of a nice place to camp.

Hyrule can sniff out this stuff (not literally)

It may not lead you both back to the group, but there's no reason to fear when Hyrule is here!

That being said, he's skin and bones.

This kid needs more layers.

Whether you headcanon him being part fairy or not, I can't imagine the magic he has also equating to him higher blood pressure or a high body tempt to fight off the fact that his boy is gonna be trapped in a snow storm/very snowy area

It may be up to you to make sure he doesn't get hypothermia and freeze to death.

He can lead you out of a mess like that no problem

...It doesn't mean he can lead you back to the group, but something is better than nothing

But I can't imagine him being able to retain his heat very well.

It's going to be the roll of the dice with one y'all.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

WED. WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONEEEEEE I’M GOING TO CRY MYSELF TO SLEEP THINKING ABOUT COWBOY JOEL 😭

I WANT HIM I NEED HIM I LOVE HIM

You thought you understood what last night was—anger, frustration, both of you taking it out on each other. But the way Joel touched you, the way he kissed you, the way he stayed silent afterward… none of it fits the narrative you’ve been telling yourself.

He’s totally smitten, Jesus Christ 🫠

“Joel’s snoring didn’t keep you up all night?”

Dude, it wasn’t the snoring, it was your brother’s big cock 😏

“I’d rather the ‘I told you so,’” you spit, hot and bitter. “Just say it. Whatever it is. You think I’m too young to know what I’m doing? Too soft? You think I’m a failure? Couldn’t handle the city, the job, the—”

Yeah, she’s me 🥲

When you’re satisfied he’s unhurt, you lead him into the pen and give him a scratch behind the ears. “You’re a good boy,” you whisper again, softly. “We’ll get it next time.”

Awww, the way she’s such a softie for Blue, so on brand for me, it’s just a different animal but the way she treats him is basically the same I treat my babygirl Brienne 🥹

Joel looks sincere, firm. “Desperation’s just another word for fightin’ for what you need.”

This is such a beautiful sentence and so true, ugh my heart ❤️

You look up at him. Feeling exposed, like you’re holding the ugliest parts of you in your palms for him to see. “You think so?”

And here’s another poetic image I love so much 🥲 God, how you even came up with this sentence, it’s so perfect

“You’re tougher than most people I know. And contrary to what you think, I respect the hell outta you for it.”

Awwww please, giggling and kicking my feet 🥹

You’ve spent so long chasing your own impossible standards.

Fighting for your dad’s stoic approval. Suffocating under the weight of other people’s judgment.

You looked into my head and wrote that, right? WTF 😭

He shifts, his hand brushing yours lightly, and the air between you feels thick. “Took me a long time to learn how to ask for help or accept it. Still ain’t perfect at it neither,” it comes out like a confession. “But there’s nothing weak about it. And there’s nothin’ more attractive than a woman who’s not afraid to try, fail, and try again.”

He’s so precious, I can’t even stop, I’m YEARNING

His movements are unhurried. He steps closer to you. He’s so large in the small space. Not intimidating, but stabilizing.

Joel is exactly this for me, my rock, my loyal guy, my everything 🥹

His hand settles on your waist, pulling you close as the kiss deepens. There’s no resistance. You’re pliable and willing. He moves with you naturally, like your mouths were always meant to find each other. He holds you like you’re a treasure, a prize, a wonder. Precious.

OMG 😭🫠

“You have no idea how much I crave this. Crave you. In every way.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. The reverence in his tone makes your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but smile.

JESUS FUCK ❤️‍🔥

Everything you use to protect yourself falls away as you let his words soak in. You couldn’t hide from him if you wanted to. He’s not just taking—he’s giving, pouring every ounce of admiration and desire he feels for you into each moment. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself take it in, let yourself believe it.

Look how I’m going to cry for smut, just wait for it, this is so perfect 🥲🥲🥲

You wonder if you should feel more vulnerable being naked beneath him while he’s still fully clothed. But instead, it feels empowering—like this moment belongs to you just as much as it does to him; like every touch and kiss is a promise steeped in devotion.

Ok, I want this or nothing, it's the sexiest thing in the world

He knows exactly what you need next. Filling you with his fingers while he wraps his lips over your clit. The wet noises of his fingers pumping into you are obscene-–but they're nothing compared to the moan you make when you see the way his hips are desperately rutting into the mattress between your legs.

The sight of him losing control, his own need so evident and unrestrained, sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He’s giving so much of himself to you with every movement. It’s not just his mouth or his hands—it’s the way he wants you, completely and utterly, like he’s been holding it back for ages.

This is so fucking HOT, he’s so desperate, I’m going insane 🥵🥵🥵

Your head shakes slightly, determination building even in your post-release haze. “Joel. Now.”

🫠🫠🫠

“You’re gonna get me, baby. All of me. Gonna fill you so deep you’ll never forget it.”

Yes, please, I need this right now

“Fuck,” he pauses after barely pushing into you. His eyes slam shut for a moment before he inches deeper into you, slower than you thought possible. “You take me like it’s what you’re meant for.” His eyes stay locked on yours, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face.

You take me like it’s what you’re meant for… I JUST CAN’T WHY HE’S LIKE THAT ❤️‍🔥

“Feel that?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “Feel how deep I am? That’s where I’m gonna stay, sweetheart. Right here, fillin’ you up.”

You can stay inside me 24/7, I don’t mind, I’m going to live the rest of my life with you inside.

You watch, as he instructed, until you look back up to his face. He’s so vocal, so confident with every word—but his face is equal parts hungry and wrecked. Fucked out. Drunk on you.

OH MY GOD PLS 🫠

Joel sits across from you, his knee brushing yours under the table. You catch him watching you over the rim of his coffee cup, his lips twitching into a barely concealed smile when your eyes meet.

He’s so damn cute 🥹

“It’s better when you’ve got good company,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile.

oh please, with you by my side I could look at a landfill and find it romantic, I’m not even joking

The thought that this wasn’t just a playful gesture but a quiet claim sends a flutter through your chest.

Awwww OMG I’m going insaneeee

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, sharing quiet conversation. Joel’s small acts of service don’t go unnoticed—handing you a napkin before you realize you need one, making sure your drink stays full, brushing crumbs off your sleeve with a casual intimacy that feels like it’s always been there.

Again, this is so damn cute, so on brand for Joel. He provides, he protects, he’s the man I love and I need 😭

You expect to see something flare in his eyes bringing up Cody, reminding you of the way he looked at you the first night you came back to the trailer. But, you take his hand and he’s only projecting pride and confidence. It makes you stand taller, knowing he’s a secure man.

Heheheheheh 🥰

He takes a deep breath, his hand shifting to fully cover yours. “I’m sayin’ I want something real with you. Not just sneakin’ moments or pretendin’ it don’t matter. I want to see where this goes.”

Yas, baby 🥹

Awww, this made me so full of love and content, it was exactly what I needed!

And I love that you wrote a softer Joel, he’s so damn perfect, he made me all fuzzy and stupidly happy awww he’s so precious 🥹❤️

This will definitely become one of my comfort fics, you did an amazing job and I loved everything, these two are incredible characters and your writing??? Excuse me, miss, are you trying to kill me, make me so aroused I can’t even stand it and make me cry all at once? 😭❤️‍🔥

Thanks for sharing your art with us!

right kind of dream (joel miller x f!reader) part two

wc: 9k | other fics | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 | PART ONE HERE summary: part two of 'right kind of dream': rebuilding your life, chasing, cans, and hitchin' a ride to the rodeo with team roper joel

a/n: i battled five million error messages to deliver this bad boy so if something is weird or it seems like paragraphs are missing... they might be. i think some formatting got lost. i'll put the whole thing on ao3 asap. i am unsure what i've done to anger the tumblr hq but i apologize

@katiexpunk : here is part two, thank you for being patient, i hope the wait was worth it <3 tags: modern cowboy joel au/ team roper joel and tommy, no sarah, enemies to lovers, dbf lite, choose your own age gap, small town romance, city girl returns to the country, miscommunication, horsegirl!joel, smut, ridin' that cowboy bareback as the good lord intended, no beta-mistakes are my fault for writing at 4am and for spending the afternoon fighting god to get this website to accept me thanks to: @syd-djarin, @auteurdelabre, and @lovely-vamp-princess for support, eyes, and ideas, etc.

Joel wakes you up while it’s still dark, pulling your shirt over your head and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Sleep,” he mutters in a gravelly whisper.

The ache in your body is a stark reminder of everything Joel did to you. Every movement as you roll over sends a sharp jolt through your muscles, and the hollow soreness deep inside you leaves you raw.

For a moment, you lie still, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment—the way he touched you, the way he looked at you. You can still feel him, the shape he carved out inside of you.

He said nothing. He didn’t gloat, didn’t tease, didn’t even try to explain. The silence felt heavier than any of his words ever could.

You can hear him outside, feeding the horses. You give in, curling up under the blanket for another hour until you figure you might miss your chance for fresh coffee from the visitor tent.

You pull on clothes, feeling hungover with anxiety twisting in your gut. Your head spins and your chest feels tight, but you march toward the picnic tables and get yourself coffee and breakfast.

You aren’t sure what the fuck you’re supposed to do now. You sit at a table, a cup of coffee cradled in your hands, your head pounding as though you’d downed a bottle of whiskey the night before. The anxiety sits heavy in your chest, each sip of coffee doing little to loosen its grip.

You thought you understood what last night was—anger, frustration, both of you taking it out on each other. But the way Joel touched you, the way he kissed you, the way he stayed silent afterward… none of it fits the narrative you’ve been telling yourself.

You glance across the grounds, your eyes catching on Joel’s familiar silhouette near the fence. He’s leaning against the rail, his dark eyes scanning the crowd, but the moment his gaze lands on you, something shifts.

Your breath catches, the air between you thick and suffocating even from across the distance. Joel tips his head slightly, a subtle acknowledgment, but it only tightens the knot in your chest.

You tear your eyes away, focusing on the coffee in your hands, but the weight of his gaze lingers, pressing into you like a brand.

You keep your distance, avoiding Joel as you move through the motions of the morning ignoring the questions and confusion gnawing at you.

The sun climbs higher, the dry heat pressing down like a heavy blanket, but the rodeo grounds are alive with movement. Dust clings to the back of your throat, blending with the faint, bitter taste of coffee as you linger near the edge of the action, pretending to watch.

You’re halfway to convincing yourself Joel’s not even here when you hear Tommy’s voice. He’s leaning on the fence, one boot propped on the bottom rail, his arm resting loosely on the top. A beautiful woman stands beside him, gorgeous with bold makeup and tight jeans, her dark hair catching the light. She laughs at something Tommy says, swatting at his chest, and he grins down at her like she’s the only person in the world.

You almost keep walking, but Tommy glances up and catches your eye, his grin widening as he waves you over. He calls your name in an easy, smooth tone.

“Morning,” you say stiffly, stopping a few paces away.

The woman glances between you and Tommy, murmuring something to him before she wanders off toward the trailers. Tommy doesn’t miss a beat, tipping his hat to you with that same infuriating grin.

“You sleep alright?”

“What?” you gape at him before rushing to fix your face.

“Joel’s snoring didn’t keep you up all night?”

“Oh.” You shake your head. “No, slept fine. Thanks.”

He gives you another smile, and you move to lean on the fence watching the arena with him. He cocks his head, his eyes still on you.

“You worried about runnin’ Blue?” His voice is warm and light. His dark eyes sparkle with his natural charm, but it’s a genuine question.

You peel the edge of the paper coffee cup, looking past Tommy toward the warmup pen. “Yeah, I guess.” You give him a half smile. “We aren’t gunning for the NFR or anything, though.”

“Somethin’ else weighing on you, darlin’?”

You shake your head. Not willing to reveal anything else. “Heard you were up late partying with the roughstock boys and their fan club,” you accuse in a joking tone, attempting to redirect the conversation. “You aren’t worried about your own round?”

He laughs deeply at that. “Nah, that’s what a heeler’s for,” he says. “I just gotta be in the box on time. Joel’s the one that keeps us winnin’.”

“He’s not a partier?” You didn’t mean to dig, but the question slipped out anyway.

Tommy turns his head towards you, but you keep staring out at the arena, watching the crew setting up the barrels for the first division.

He studies you for a long moment, his grin softening into something closer to curiosity. “Joel’s not like me. Not really.” Your brow furrows. The words twist in your chest, setting your thoughts spinning. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Tommy chuckles again, but there’s something unreadable in his eyes. “Let’s just say, Joel’s always had his head screwed on tighter than mine. Even when he didn’t.” You stare at him, trying to unravel the meaning behind his words, but Tommy just grins. “Joel’s a loyal kinda guy, y’know? Don’t mean he’s blind, though.” He gives you a wink and you feel heat flooding your face. “Just means he wrestles with it longer than the rest of us would.” You scowl at him for that. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Did Joel tell him? Does he know what happened? He shrugs. “Just means you’re a hell of a distraction,” Tommy says, tipping his hat. You laugh it off, but his words linger, your mind racing with questions you’re not ready to ask. You whip your head away again as if staring at the tractor raking the arena can save you from the conversation. But Tommy notices.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t tease or prod, but you can feel the weight of his gaze as you swallow hard, your thoughts spiraling. Before you can respond, someone calls his name from across the grounds. Tommy tips his hat one last time. “Good luck out there, neighbor,” he says, his voice light but laced with something heavier. “Don’t let that head of yours get in the way.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you standing alone, your thoughts spinning, your chest burning. You push off the fence and find yourself a spot on the bleachers. They’re dusty and worn. The boards creak as you settle into a spot near the edge. You watch the first few runs.

The riders move with precision, their horses cut through the dirt with sharp, clean turns. The announcer’s voice booms over the speakers, calling names and times, but it fades into the background as you watch.

Everywhere you look, there’s something that reminds you of Joel.

The set of someone’s shoulders as they lean against the fence, the low timbre of a voice nearby, a black felt hat in the corner of your eye. You try to banish the worry and the panic creeping in.

You remember the way he watched you train with Blue. The way he offered advice that sounded more like a challenge. The way his voice cut through the air like he knew more than you. The way he looked at you last night. The raw unguarded expression you’ve never seen before.

You hate the way he makes you feel small and uncertain. You hate the way you can’t stop thinking about him.

You can’t stop remembering the way his hands felt on your skin or his tongue. The heat in his voice and the way he saw through every lie you told.

The sound of someone hitting the dirt makes you snap your head up just as the crowd around you gasps.

In the arena, a horse stands, saddle hanging nearly sideways off of it. A rider scrambles to their feet, brushing dirt from their jeans with a wave. They lead their horse out of the arena and you can hear folks around you murmuring that their latigo broke and their saddle slipped as they turned for home. The horse and the rider are both fine, but your nerves flare.

You know the risks of the sport. But it makes you head back to the trailer early to inspect all of your tack closely for anything faulty. From across the grounds, Joel watches you. He stands near the holding pen, arms crossed over his chest. You haven’t seen him yet. Not really. Not in the way he sees you.

He can feel the tension in your shoulders as you walk, the way you crush the paper coffee cup in your hand.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t call out to you.

He doesn’t trust himself to. He shouldn’t have touched you last night. Shouldn’t have let his jealousy boil over. Shouldn’t have taken it that far. But now, standing here, all he could think about was the way you felt underneath him. The way you said his name like he was the only thing holding you together. And the way he needs to hear it again.

By the time your division gets called to warm up, you’ve eased your worries about your tack but you’re still swimming in Joel thoughts until you swing your leg over the saddle and settle on Blue’s back.

Then the rest of the world disappears. Your ride starts off smooth, but Blue’s sensitivity is a curse and a blessing. You figure he must be picking up on some anxiety as he gets a little hot, tossing his head and pulling on the reins when you try to bring him down to a jog.

You work out most of the kinks, circling and working on transitions until he feels supple and responsive to your seat and legs. Your nerves and the energy of the other horses still have his ears swiveling and his head perked up as you wait for the rider ahead of you to be called.

You can see most of their run, it’s smooth and they put up a good time. You squeeze your calves asking Blue to head toward the alleyway, but he’s springloaded.

You hold him back as he crow hops sideways for a beat before you’re backing him up. You try making a slow circle before heading in but he’s still jigging with short, bouncy steps like he’s ready to explode.

You’re tense, holding him back and trying to stay calm, making one more circle when he starts hopping again. You can feel eyes on you from the people standing near the gate. Before you can make another circle Joel is striding towards you with swift long steps.

He grabs Blue by the bridle, speaking directly to him in a calming, low voice. You glare at him reactively, but the words die before you can formulate them.

Blue’s jittering slows and Joel leads you up the alley toward the arena. His steps are sure and confident as he guides you. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to snap at him and tell him you don’t need his help. The truth is you do.

“Go get ‘em,” he says quietly, turning to you.

You gather your reins, giving him a tight nod to signal you’re ready. He lets go and steps back. Your heart pounds as you encourage Blue to push off into a lope.

The moment you cross the starting line, everything else fades.

The noise. The nerves. Even Joel. It all melts away. Just you and Blue and the rhythm of his hooves pounding against the soft dirt.

The first barrel comes fast. You guide him into a tight turn, pushing him to pick it up toward the next. His lead change is smooth as you shift your weight, leaning into the next tight turn. You’ve got your body facing the final barrel before Blue pushes off with his powerful hind legs.

You thunder toward the last barrel. His strides are strong and controlled. You’ve just gotta make this last turn without taking it too wide or knocking the barrel over.

Blue doesn’t forget his training, bending around your leg, picking up his shoulder, and you’ve got one stride left in the turn before you’re free to haul ass home.

You’ve got this.

You’ve got this.

You don’t got this.

The footing is deeper than the arena you run at on Thursday nights. Blue’s hooves slide in the loose dirt. His balance faltering. Time slows and you feel his weight tipping. There’s nothing to do but brace for the impact. His body hits the dirt in a controlled, almost graceful fall.

You hit the ground with a dull thud, the breath knocked out of you as you scramble back giving Blue room to pop back up. He shakes off the dirt, your stirrups slapping at his side and the reins nearly coming over his ears. His eyes are wide, but he stands waiting for your direction.

You catch your breath, chest still heaving from the shock. You dust the dirt off your jeans and wave off the grounds person jogging toward you. “I’m fine,” you call. “We’re fine.” Your voice is steady, but your chest feels like it’s caving in.

You pull his reins over his head and walk toward the end of the arena, keeping your head up and patting Blue on the neck. The crowd claps expressing support and relief that you’re both walking.

Hot, angry tears blur your vision by the time you get to the alley.

You don’t see Joel, staring at the ground as you walk, but you hear him hustling toward you calling your name. His boots crunch against the dirt as he matches your pace.

“You okay?” he asks, low and concerned.”

“Fine,” you snap, not looking at him as you speed up, pulling Blue along faster.

“It was a good-looking run you had going,” Joel says, his tone soft. “You two looked great, making good time. You can’t help the shitty footing—”

“I don’t need your pity,” you cut him off, sharp but trembling. “Not now.”

You don’t see the way his face tightens. The anger is spilling out, uncontrollable, and you don’t care if it cuts.

“I’d rather the ‘I told you so,’” you spit, hot and bitter. “Just say it. Whatever it is. You think I’m too young to know what I’m doing? Too soft? You think I’m a failure? Couldn’t handle the city, the job, the—”

“Hey, easy.” He tries to interrupt you gently, like a spooked horse. “Nothing like that.”

“You think I’m dumb, too?” You keep jabbing him with questions as you get closer to the trailer, not caring if anyone else hears. “Just another woman that fell into your bed at another rodeo.”

“Enough,” Joel says steady and low, but you don’t hear him.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the rumors,” you snap, your voice cracking. “Didn’t think they were true, to be honest. Didn’t seem like you. Guess I don’t really know you though, do I?”

Joel’s jaw tightens, his dark eyes flashing with hurt, but you’re too far gone to notice.

“You know, maybe I was stupid.” Your voice shakes as tie Blue at the trailer to untack. “But for a while, I thought I was finally starting to feel like myself out here. Like I was where I was supposed to be. And now—” Your words catch in your throat. Tears streaming down your face. You shake your head, stopping yourself from revealing anything else. You turn away from Joel and start running your hands along Blue’s legs to check for any swelling from the fall.

Joel doesn’t move for a long beat. He stands rigid, watching you wrestle with your emotions as you work. Finally, Joel exhales sharply, running a hand over his face. His voice is tight when he speaks. “I’ll leave you be.”

He walks away before you can respond, his footsteps heavy against the dirt. Your shoulders sag as the adrenaline starts to wear off, leaving behind the hollow ache of exhaustion. Your hands tremble as you finish untacking and brushing Blue, but you keep moving, your touch soft against his sweat-damp coat. “You did nothing wrong,” you murmur.

Fresh tears pool in your eyes. “You’re a good boy, Blue. You did exactly what we practiced.” Blue snorts softly, his ears flicking back toward you, and you lean into him, pressing your forehead against the warm curve of his neck. “I was the one who fucked up,” you admit, your words muffled against his dark coat. The truth spills out in quiet, broken pieces.

“I should’ve been watching the other riders closer this morning. Should’ve caught how deep the footing was at the far barrel.”

Your voice drops to a whisper. “Instead of thinking about how I could still feel his hands on me. Or wondering if he’s thinking about me.”

The confession hangs in the air, heavy and unspoken. Blue shifts beneath you, his weight leaning into your side like he knows you need the grounding.

You pull back, wiping at your face quickly before running your hands over Blue one more time, checking for any swelling or signs of injury. You move methodically, your touch steady despite the way your chest feels like it’s caving in.

When you’re satisfied he’s unhurt, you lead him into the pen and give him a scratch behind the ears. “You’re a good boy,” you whisper again, softly. “We’ll get it next time.”

The afternoon stretched on at the rodeo, the sun climbing high and unrelenting.

You do your best to avoid the temptation to look for Joel, though he somehow has a way of being everywhere and nowhere all at once. Mostly it was false alarms and your eyes playing tricks on you. But once or twice you saw him watching other events. He never seemed to notice you, or if he did he gave no indication.

You hadn’t decided if you were avoiding him out of anger, shame, or if it was because the thought of being near him again after last night still made your chest ache in a way you didn’t want to examine. You’re still burying that last thought somewhere deep when you catch the flash of Joel’s red mare striding through the arena.

You can see Joel and Tommy putting their horses through some practice just past the main arena.

Your lips press together into a thin line as you watch them. Joel has a different aura about him when he’s in the saddle. He seems lighter somehow. Relaxed, but with a quiet command. He guides his horse in a way that looks effortless. His body moving in perfect harmony with hers. Tommy’s horse was a little snappier, making quick sharp turns. The pair of riders worked together naturally, movements fluid and precise as they get their practice in.

It was mesmerizing. Infuriatingly so.

You leaned back, trying to tear your gaze away, but your eyes betrayed you, drawn back to continue admiring him. The longer you watch the more it stirs up something unwelcome in your chest. You can’t keep letting him occupy so much space in your mind or your memories.

He’s proven time and again that he doesn’t respect you. He didn’t even argue when you laid it all out in your outburst after your run. He just walked away from you.

But there’s something in the way he carries himself. Something in the way he rides, the way he works with his horse, that hints at something different than what you know. Something that makes you curious.

You blink, realizing Joel’s head was turned toward the bleachers. For a second you think his eyes are on you and you quickly look away. When you glance back he’s already turned his attention back to something else.

Embarrassment wraps around your throat. This is why you had to avoid him. His presence alone seems to demand every ounce of your attention without even trying.

Before you can drown in your own emotional turmoil, an unfamiliar voice calls your name.

You see Cody waving a few rows down and give him a polite smile before agreeing to join him and his friends. Spending the rest of the evening with them feels like a safety buffer.

You don’t see Joel or Tommy when you get dinner. You watch some of the evening events before splitting from the group to check on Blue.

It’s nearly dark as you walk through the grounds. Your chest feels tighter with every step you take as you approach.

You’re hoping you don’t run into Joel—or Tommy and his knowing eyes. You let yourself into the pen, the noise from the announcer and the crowd are muffled by the distance.

There was a stillness in the dusk and the horses were calm.

Blue’s head swivels toward you as you approach. You pause to untie the braid in his tail before stepping between him and Joel’s horse. It’s not until that moment that you realize you aren’t alone. You freeze when your eyes land on Joel. He’s standing between his horse and yours, posture relaxed. The external light on the horse trailer casts shadows over his face making it hard to read his eyes.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” you say softly. “I didn’t know you were here.”

He responds with a small shrug and shake of his head. “Nothing to interrupt.”

You still feel frozen, like concrete had been poured around your feet. You’ve been carrying the weight of your earlier outburst in your shoulders, and the rest of your muscles are still stiff from hitting the dirt earlier. Maybe that’s why your defenses feel lower, or maybe something else has shifted, but the next words come out before you have a real plan.

“Look, about earlier,” you start with more confidence than you feel. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It wasn’t fair.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, gaze fixed on Blue who huffs a warm breath out after nudging Joel’s pocket in search of a treat. When he finally speaks, it’s quiet but firm.

“You had every right to be upset.”

You frown at that, a line pulling between your brows in confusion, and you shake your head. “No, I didn’t. I was angry, frustrated with myself, and I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve that.”

He works his jaw like he’s mulling something over, before letting out a sigh. You move closer to give Blue a scratch under his jaw. The spot that always makes him wiggle his lip. You see Joel’s expression softening.

“I’ve been where you are,” he says finally. “Trying to rebuild somethin’ when it feels like the world’s stacked against you. Trying to remember who you are. What matters most.”

You tilt your head, curiosity pulling at you. His words sound familiar for a moment. That conversation you’d had after stacking hay. “When you bought the property from my dad?”

He nods. “Bought the place after my ex split. Had to sell the business. Start over. Build somethin’ from scratch while trying to figure out what the hell my life was supposed to look like.”

“It’s not as simple as it sounds,” you echo your past statement. He laughs a short, humorless sound.

“Sure ain���t. I know I made mistakes along the way.”

You stay quiet, letting the words hang in the air.

“It’s easy to get yourself a reputation in a small town,” he continues, tinged with regret. “I spent a while chasing somethin’ I couldn’t even name. Thought I could skip the pain with sex, drinking, and spending every weekend hauling to any rodeo I could afford the entrance fees for.”

His confession sinks over you, and you feel a pang of understanding.

“Took a while to figure it that it wasn’t working. Wasn’t who I was… or who I wanted to be.”

“I get that,” you say softly. You drop your gaze, not quite sure how to say it. “Not the same circumstances, but,” you take a slow breath, “I had a reputation back at my old job. It wasn’t true but it didn’t matter. Once people decide who you are, it’s like there’s nothing you can do to change it.

You feel his eyes on you. “That why you came out here?”

“Sort of.” You run your hand under Blue’s mane, feeling the warmth of his body grounding you.

“Hated the job. Spent a lot of time and money in school to get there, and I dreaded going to the office every day.” You swallow thickly, still not sure you can look Joel in the eye.

“Then my engagement fell apart. The more we tried to split up our lives the more I realized none of it was my life. None of it was me. I didn’t know myself anymore. I didn’t know what mattered.”

“Takes guts to start over,” Joel says with a current of finality about it. Like it’s a fact. “Most people wouldn’t have the nerve.”

His words warm something deep inside of you, but they also make your eyes well up. You blink away the tears before you look to Joel’s face. His eyes are steady on yours. You offer a small smile.

“Feels less like guts and more like desperation most of the time.”

Joel looks sincere, firm. “Desperation’s just another word for fightin’ for what you need.”

A heavy lump in your throat makes it difficult to respond, but you push yourself to be vulnerable. “I came out here to figure myself out and to do it on my own. I wanted to prove it to myself. But, then today, I got so caught up in my own head that I almost got us both hurt.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” he says quietly.

“I should’ve been paying better attention. Should’ve asked the other riders about the footing. Or—” your voice cracks and you pause to slow down your spiraling thoughts.

Joel moves closer, his presence solid. Anchoring. “You’re hard on yourself,” he says it soft, but firm. “You’ve got grit. You work your ass off. That’s what matters.”

You look up at him. Feeling exposed, like you’re holding the ugliest parts of you in your palms for him to see. “You think so?”

“I know so. I see you. The way you handle Blue, the balance you strike with your dad, the way you work twice as hard as most folks at a part-time job and still have time to learn the names of every old farmer in 50 miles that comes in once a month.”

You laugh at that, feeling something warm blooming in your chest. His eyes soften, and you’re drawn to the lines on his face.

“I’ve seen the way you push yourself even when you’re tired, the way you’re determined to bring out the best in yourself and others. Even those of us with a history.” He runs his hand along the scar tissue on Blue’s shoulder. The horse that broke a girl’s jaw.

“You’re tougher than most people I know. And contrary to what you think, I respect the hell outta you for it.”

His words hit harder than you expect, and you feel like your ribs have been pulled open, exposing your heart and soul in the moonlight.

You’ve spent so long chasing your own impossible standards.

Fighting for your dad’s stoic approval. Suffocating under the weight of other people’s judgment.

Hearing Joel’s praise feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders.

“Joel,” you start, but your voice falters. The way he’s looking at you feels intense. Almost too much. You can feel your heart beating against your chest.

He shifts, his hand brushing yours lightly, and the air between you feels thick. “Took me a long time to learn how to ask for help or accept it. Still ain’t perfect at it neither,” it comes out like a confession. “But there’s nothing weak about it. And there’s nothin’ more attractive than a woman who’s not afraid to try, fail, and try again.”

The slip in his voice–the raw, unguarded admiration–sends a flush of heat through you. Shit. The praise was already overwhelming, but the way he’s looking at you now—it’s too much. Or not enough.

His centering presence somehow has you rocked off balance.

Suddenly you’re closer, the space between you charged. Humming like one of the generators at the other campsites.

His hand brushes your cheek, gentle but deliberate. Your breath catches in your throat. Everything that has been simmering between you feels like it’s about to boil over.

The rest of the rodeo disappears. Standing there in the moonlight, the world around you dissolves into quiet, only his gravity pulling you closer.

Joel’s hand lingers just long enough on your cheek to make heat crawl up your neck and coil in your belly. Before you can close the distance he pulls back, clearing his throat and stepping away. He moves slowly and deliberately, giving you space to retreat if you want to.

But you don’t.

Instead, you follow him out of the pen, your feet carrying you toward the trailer without thought.

The silence between you is loud, not uncomfortable but full of unspoken words and feelings, each step drawing you toward something you haven’t named yet. When he opens the door and gestures for you to step inside, the creak of the hinges feels impossibly loud.

Inside, the trailer is layered in soft shadows from the glow of a warm lamp. Joel closes the door behind you, and the quiet feels delicate. He stands a few paces away, his hat in hand, his eyes scanning your face as though searching for any sign of doubt.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low and careful.

When you find your voice, it’s softer than you expected. “Yeah.”

The corners of his mouth lift just slightly, and the warmth in his eyes eases some of the nervous energy bouncing around in your chest. He hangs his hat on the hook near the door. The image of him reaching past you to hang it on the same hook last night flares in your mind and buzzes through your skin.

His movements are unhurried. He steps closer to you. He’s so large in the small space. Not intimidating, but stabilizing.

“Earlier,” he begins, “when I said I respect the hell outta you… I meant it.”

He takes your hand in his, his fingers warm and solid. Your senses are heightened from the emotionally raw conversation, from his touch, and the warm, spiced scent of him wrapping around you. “I see how hard you’ve worked, how much you’ve sacrificed to be here. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with awe.

“And you’ve got no idea how much I—”

He cuts himself off, searching your face. His breath is warm, so close to your face. His lips look soft, so close to yours.

You close the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that’s nothing like the night before. It’s tender. Slow. Sprawling. Unspoken affection passes between you with the slip of your tongues and the soft sounds in your throat.

Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, every thought and worry dissolving into the sensation of your lips on his. Softer than he ever let himself imagine, a sweetness he didn’t think he deserved. The warmth of you seeps into him, steadying him even as it sends electricity down his spine.

His hand settles on your waist, pulling you close as the kiss deepens. There’s no resistance. You’re pliable and willing. He moves with you naturally, like your mouths were always meant to find each other. He holds you like you’re a treasure, a prize, a wonder. Precious.

So soft, he thinks, his thumb grazing the curve of your waist. Every inch of you pressed against him feels like fire and solace all at once. His other hand roams over your back, the delicate shift of muscle beneath his palm grounding him in the reality that you’re here, with him.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, but there’s no space left between you. His palm glides down your spine, lighting you from within. When you break apart, softly breathing in each other’s air, his forehead rests against yours, eyes dark and soft as they hold your gaze.

“You have no idea how much I crave this. Crave you. In every way.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. The reverence in his tone makes your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but smile.

“I might have some idea,” you reply, your voice just as quiet, but your smile grows wider.

Then he kisses you again, this time with more urgency, his hands moving to your hips and guiding you toward the bed. His touch is everywhere, his lips tracing a path from your mouth to your jaw, down the curve of your neck, each kiss making you feel lighter and warmer.

He continues to pour his confessions into your skin between each article of clothing he pulls off of you. "I thought I’d never have this. Never have you. But here you are, and you’re perfect." The words spill out of him unbidden, each one carrying a weight he’s carried for far too long. His hands tremble slightly as he leaves a wet trail of kisses down your clavicle, between the swell of your breasts, over the smooth fabric of your bra.

"I used to hate that I wanted you, that I thought about having you like this. But I don’t want to stop, sweetheart.” He unclasps your bra and slips the straps over your shoulders, replacing the cups with his palms, kneading your plush flesh. The warmth of your skin beneath his hands sends sparks through him, and he leans in, brushing his lips over the sensitive peaks.

“Don’t want you to stop,” you murmur back. He hums in response to you, rolling your nipples between his fingers before taking his time mouthing, sucking, licking at each of them until you moan and arch toward him.

“I spent too many nights trying not to think about you,” he confesses, his voice dipping lower. “And cursing myself for it.” He shifts down, between your legs to pull your jeans off. It feels like he’s just handed you a piece of himself you didn’t expect to see. The idea of him, alone and thinking about you, shifts something in your mind. It’s not just desire he carries for you. Is it something deeper?

He runs his hands along your bare legs, warm against your smooth skin. He already looks wrecked and he’s still fully clothed. You reach for him, but he shakes his head, dipping to line another path of kisses down your belly, to the sensitive skin inside the top of your thighs. His lips press against your skin, reverent, as if trying to memorize the feel of you beneath him.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with need. His admiration and desire are intense, making you feel stripped bare in an emotional way. He’s not just saying it; he means it in a way that feels different from casual compliments.

Everything you use to protect yourself falls away as you let his words soak in. You couldn’t hide from him if you wanted to. He’s not just taking—he’s giving, pouring every ounce of admiration and desire he feels for you into each moment. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself take it in, let yourself believe it.

The heat of his touch and the need in his eyes have your core aching for attention. His breath ghosting over your swollen cunt makes you shudder with need.

When his lips press against the thin fabric still covering you, you arch into him. You feel him smile against you, breathing deeply before he slides his hands beneath your thighs, cupping your ass to tilt your hips before he descends again.

He kisses and sucks at your clit through your soaked panties without a care for the lewd sounds filling the small room. He doesn’t stop. It’s warm and wet, and the pressure makes you feel needy. You roll your hips seeking more contact, and he moans against you, the sound vibrating through you causing you to gasp and call out his name.

He looks up at you before pulling your underwear off and pausing to stare at your glistening cunt, before taking all of you in. His eyes dart to your face, all of your exposed skin, and back to your eyes.

“I never thought I’d actually get to touch you. To kiss you. Taste you like this.” His voice is hoarse, barely audible over the sound of your breath.

“Please, Joel.” He’s like a dream between your legs. His mouth, his tongue, his hands, his fingers. He uses everything with expert precision, bringing you closer and closer and erasing every worry, every stress.

You wonder if you should feel more vulnerable being naked beneath him while he’s still fully clothed. But instead, it feels empowering—like this moment belongs to you just as much as it does to him; like every touch and kiss is a promise steeped in devotion.

His hips press into the mattress involuntarily, seeking relief for his throbbing cock as he continues to worship you with his mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair as he dips his tongue inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” Your voice is hoarse and ragged already.

He knows exactly what you need next. Filling you with his fingers while he wraps his lips over your clit. The wet noises of his fingers pumping into you are obscene-–but they're nothing compared to the moan you make when you see the way his hips are desperately rutting into the mattress between your legs.

The sight of him losing control, his own need so evident and unrestrained, sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He’s giving so much of himself to you with every movement. It’s not just his mouth or his hands—it’s the way he wants you, completely and utterly, like he’s been holding it back for ages.

It tips you over the edge, chanting his name like a prayer as your release crashes through you. Your walls contract around his fingers and your muscles tense as he groans into your wet flesh before pulling back.

“That’s it,” he murmurs from between your legs, “you did good for me, baby. You’re so good for me.”

You’re boneless as the words melt into you. But you know you wanted to say something before he made your vision blur.

Your breath comes in slow, uneven waves as you blink at the ceiling, reality slowly settling back into your body. He’s watching you, his eyes dark and heavy with affection and need, and you realize the thought that had slipped away moments ago was this: you need to feel him, to see him.

“Joel,” you manage, your voice low and hoarse, your fingers brushing weakly at his forearm. He raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk touching his lips as he leans closer.

“What is it, baby?”

You swallow hard, the words tangled in your throat as you try to gather your strength. “Off,” you rasp, fingers tugging weakly at the fabric of his shirt.

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he leans down to kiss your temple. “Gimme a minute, sweetheart. Let me make sure you’re all right first.”

Your head shakes slightly, determination building even in your post-release haze. “Joel. Now.”

Something in your voice snaps the tension in him. His jaw tightens, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt in one smooth motion, tugging it over his head.

The sight of him leaves you breathless. Broad shoulders tapering to a firm waist, his skin golden and littered with scars and years of hard work. He looks wrecked, his chest rising and falling as though he’s been holding himself back for too long.

“Goddamn,” you whisper, as your mouth hangs open. Your gaze drops lower, taking in the soft lines of his abdomen, and the trail of dark hair leading to the waistband of his jeans.

And then, as he unbuttons them and pushes them down, his cock springs free, thick and flushed and so fucking perfect it sends a scalding wave of desire rolling through you.

You’re expression fills Joel with pride. The hunger in your eyes makes his cock twitch, the intensity of your gaze threatening to knock him over right there.

You sit up slightly, your hand reaching for him, but he catches your wrist gently, shaking his head. “Not like that,” he murmurs, his voice rough as gravel. He eases you back onto the mattress, his hands warm and firm against your hips. “Not this time, baby.”

You whine softly, your need pulsing through every word. “Please, fuck, I need you.”

His pupils blow wide, his breathing uneven as he settles between your legs. “You need me?” he repeats, his tone darkening, the words laced with a feral edge that makes you dizzy.

“You’re gonna get me, baby. All of me. Gonna fill you so deep you’ll never forget it.”

The shift in his tone sends a fresh rush of slick between your thighs. His hand trails up your side, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast as he watches you.

“Gonna make you mine. Gonna keep you so full of me you’ll feel it in you every time you move.”

The possessiveness in his voice makes your body burn, your hips rocking up toward him involuntarily. “Joel, please,” you beg, your voice raw and edged with frustration as he drags the blunt head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing you.

“Fuck,” he pauses after barely pushing into you. His eyes slam shut for a moment before he inches deeper into you, slower than you thought possible. “You take me like it’s what you’re meant for.” His eyes stay locked on yours, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face.

You gasp as he reaches the deepest part of you, his hips flush against yours, his cock filling you completely. “Look at you,” he coos. “Such a good girl for me.” The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve ending sparking to life as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust.

“Feel that?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “Feel how deep I am? That’s where I’m gonna stay, sweetheart. Right here, fillin’ you up.”

Your walls flutter around him, your body already begging for more. “Joel,” you whisper, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Move. Please.”

He obliges, his hips pulling back before driving forward again, dragging out the intensity of every sensation. His forehead drops to yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispers praise between each movement. “You’re so good for me, baby. So damn good.”

Your body writhes beneath him, the pleasure building with each heavy stroke. “More,” you whisper. “Please, Joel. I need more.”

The last of his restraint dissolves as he grips your hips and begins to move harder, faster, his cock hitting so deep you swear you can feel it everywhere. The pace steals the breath from your lungs, threatening to consume you.

“That’s it,” he growls, his voice rough and unrestrained. “Take it. All of me.”

Your cries fill the air, his name falling from your lips over and over. His hands hold you steady, keeping you exactly where he wants you as he claims you.

“Look at you,” he rasps, his gaze locked on the spot where your bodies meet, where his cock disappears every time he sinks into you. “So perfect, takin’ me so well. Made for this. Made for me.”

You watch, as he instructed, until you look back up to his face. He’s so vocal, so confident with every word—but his face is equal parts hungry and wrecked. Fucked out. Drunk on you.

Again it’s the deep satisfaction you get from his unrestrained desire that makes you come with a blinding intensity. You try to tell him how close you are before you’re violently sucked into the sensations.

Your walls clench around him, making him shudder and groan. You try to beg him to come too. To fill you up. You’re unsure if the words make it past your thoughts, but he’s pulled into it with you either way.

Moments later, a deep groan vibrates through his chest as he tenses and his hips jerk against you. It feels like bliss, the sensation of his cock pulsing within you, the heat of his release coating your walls as they flutter around him.

The room falls into a warm quiet, the only sounds are your ragged breaths and the faint sounds of people laughing and shouting at another campsite, reminding you the rest of the world still exists.

Joel’s weight presses into you, grounding you in the present. He doesn’t pull away, softening inside of you as you breathe through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Just stay with me.”

He shifts you both just enough to hold tight against his chest, his lips brushing your temple as his hand smooths down your side. “So good,” he murmurs, “so perfect,” voice rough but soft in a way that makes your chest ache.

The early morning sun stretches over the rodeo grounds, bathing everything in a wash of pink hues. You wake to the soft hum of voices outside the trailer and the thud of a bale of hay being dropped just outside the trailer.

Joel’s weight shifts beside you as he stirs, his arm tightening around your waist for a moment before he lets out a soft, sleepy grunt. The sound pulls a smile to your lips as you turn to face him. His eyes blink open slowly, still heavy with sleep, and he offers you a lazy smile that you mirror involuntarily.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly and low.

“Morning,” you whisper back, your fingers brushing over his stubbled jaw.

There’s a content silence between you before a loud knock rattles the trailer door, making you both jump. Tommy’s voice rings out cheerfully, "Y’all better get movin’ if you don’t wanna miss breakfast."

Joel groans, dropping his head back against the pillow with a dramatic sigh. "That boy’s got the worst damn timing."

You stifle a laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before sliding out of bed to get dressed. Joel watches you for a moment, his gaze warm and unguarded, before he stretches and follows suit.

The three of you sit at a picnic table near the cook tent, balancing plates of eggs, bacon, and biscuits as the camp buzzes with early morning energy. Joel sits across from you, his knee brushing yours under the table. You catch him watching you over the rim of his coffee cup, his lips twitching into a barely concealed smile when your eyes meet.

Tommy, oblivious as ever, chatters on about their schedule and the competition, occasionally tossing in jokes that have you laughing despite yourself. Joel leans back in his seat, his body language is relaxed but his eyes are constantly flicking to you.

When Tommy excuses himself to check on their horses, Joel leans forward, his voice low and teasing. “You’re not real subtle, you know.”

You shoot him a mock glare, your cheeks warming. “Says the man who’s been staring at me all morning.”

“Can’t help it.” Joel shrugs.

Later, you find yourself perched on the edge of a fence near the arena, watching Joel and Tommy warm up their horses. Their movements are fluid and synchronized; you openly admire their skill.

Tommy tips his hat to you with a grin as they pass, and you wave back, your gaze inevitably drifting back to Joel. He glances your way, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a small, private smile that makes your heart skip.

The arena is alive with energy as their division gets underway. You lean against the rail, your fingers gripping the cool metal as you watch Joel and Tommy back their horses into the box.

The chute gate flies open, the steer bolting into the arena with Joel and Tommy in swift pursuit. Joel’s rope swings in a perfect arc, catching the steer cleanly around the horns as Tommy moves in to secure the heels. The crowd cheers as they pull the steer to a stop, their time flashing on the scoreboard.

The announcer calls their time and updates the standings. Joel and Tommy have the best time in their division so far.

You can’t help but cheer, your voice lost in the noise of the crowd as Joel and Tommy ride back toward the holding pen, their smiles wide and triumphant. Joel catches your eye as he passes, tipping his hat to you with a grin that makes your stomach flutter.

When they dismount near the gate, you meet them with a smile. "You two make that look way too easy."

Tommy laughs. "He’s the header," he tilts his head toward Joel. “I can’t do shit if he misses.”

Joel shakes his head, deflecting the comment.

“It’s a team event,” you counter. “Both of you are good at what you do.”

“We should bring her with us more often,” Tommy jokes.

Joel gives you another warm look with unspoken words.

“Your head wouldn’t fit in your damn hat if you had someone talking you up after every run,” Joel mocks. As they both swing their legs over the back of their saddles. You turn to watch as they lead their horses back to the trailer. You want to follow and stay close to Joel for the rest of the day, but you stay put.

Trying not to let Tommy in on whatever’s happening between the two of you until you figure it out for yourself. Instead, you head back to the fence to watch the next pair of team ropers. You’d rather be near him, but staying put feels safer—for now.

The afternoon sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the rodeo grounds. You sit beside Joel on the bleachers, the two of you a quiet bubble of calm amid the hum of spectators around you. The events continue below—tie-down ropers hopping into the dirt, saddle bronc riders gripping for dear life trying to stick it out for eight seconds, bareback riders up next.

Joel leans back, one arm draped across the bench behind you, his body close enough that the heat of him radiates against your side. He’s quiet, but his presence feels steady and grounding. Every so often, his knee brushes yours, the brief contact enough to send a subtle thrill through you.

“You doin’ all right?” Joel asks, his voice low and soft. His gaze lingers on you, dark eyes warm but searching.

“Yeah,” you say with a small smile. “This is nice. I didn’t think I’d enjoy just sitting and watching this much.”

“It’s better when you’ve got good company,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile.

Your cheeks warm, but you’re spared from responding by the announcer introducing the next rider. Joel shifts beside you, his attention briefly pulled to the arena. You let yourself steal a glance at him—the sharp line of his jaw and the quiet confidence in his posture. He catches you looking and tips his hat, the subtle smirk that follows sending warmth blooming in your chest.

As the next rider lines up, Joel pulls his hat off, setting it on your lap. You blink, startled, and look at him.

“Put it on,” he says simply, his tone casual, but there’s something in his eyes—a quiet intensity that makes your breath hitch.

You hesitate for only a moment before lifting the Stetson and settling it on your head. It’s big, a little too big, but it smells faintly of leather and him. Joel’s gaze lingers on you, his lips curving into a soft smile that feels like it’s meant just for you.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

The weight of the gesture settles over you—the tradition, the meaning behind it. The thought that this wasn’t just a playful gesture but a quiet claim sends a flutter through your chest. You’re not sure what to say, so you lean into his side slightly, letting the moment and the warmth of him settle over you like a blanket.

Later, as the afternoon begins to mellow, Joel takes your hand and guides you to the cook tent for dinner. It feels almost natural to walk hand in hand, weaving through the crowd of people. The smell of barbecue wafts through the air, mingling with the sounds of quiet conversations and laughter from the other riders and their families.

Joel insists on getting your plate, waving you off with a playful, “Sit tight. I’ll take care of you.” You settle at a nearby table, watching as he weaves through the crowd with ease, stopping to exchange a word or two with acquaintances before returning with two heaping plates.

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, sharing quiet conversation. Joel’s small acts of service don’t go unnoticed—handing you a napkin before you realize you need one, making sure your drink stays full, brushing crumbs off your sleeve with a casual intimacy that feels like it’s always been there.

For a moment, it’s easy to forget you’re at a rodeo. The noise and bustle fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a comfortable bubble of companionship. Joel’s low chuckle as you tell him a story about your first job, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the warmth in his voice when he says your name—it all feels so natural, like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

As the sun begins to dip lower, casting a golden glow across the grounds, Joel stands and offers you his hand. “Come on,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “Let’s find a good spot for the bull riders. We can cheer for your new friend.”

You expect to see something flare in his eyes bringing up Cody, reminding you of the way he looked at you the first night you came back to the trailer. But, you take his hand and he’s only projecting pride and confidence. It makes you stand taller, knowing he’s a secure man.

He leads you back toward the bleachers. The two of you settle in as the crowd starts to gather, the energy of the evening event buzzing around you. Joel drapes his arm casually along the back of the bench again, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder. It’s a small gesture, but it grounds you, making you feel like you’re exactly where you belong.

Tommy and the woman you’ve seen him spending most of the weekend with join you to watch a few rounds. You tense as they come toward the steps, shifting to create space between you and Joel, trying to seem casual. You feel Joel’s eyes on you, but he doesn’t say anything about your move.

Tommy shoots you a wink before they take the seats next to you. It makes you squirm, but you tell yourself he’s always just playful like that. Too charming for his own good.

They stay and chat long enough to finish their drinks before heading back to watch the rest of the event with her group of friends.

Joel stays seated beside you, his arm still draped casually along the back of the bench, his other hand resting on his thigh. There’s a comfortable silence between you, the kind that feels like its own kind of conversation.

Finally, Joel clears his throat, turning slightly to face you. There’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced with something earnest and determined.

“I know this might be the wrong time to bring this up,” he begins, commanding your attention just with the timbre of his voice pulling at your heart, “but I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding about where I’m at.”

You tilt your head, curiosity piqued. “Where you’re at?”

He nods, his gaze holding yours. “Look, I know your dad’s a good man, and I don’t want to cross any lines. But I also don’t want to miss my chance with you.” He pauses, his hand brushing against yours where it rests on your lap. “I don’t want this to be our only day together, and I won’t have you sneakin’ out your bedroom window and hoppin’ the fence to see me. S’just not the kind of man I am.”

Your heart stutters as his words sink in. There’s no wavering in his voice, no attempt to downplay what he’s saying. He’s laying it out plainly, his honesty disarming in a way you didn’t expect.

“So what are you saying?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He takes a deep breath, his hand shifting to fully cover yours. “I’m sayin’ I want something real with you. Not just sneakin’ moments or pretendin’ it don’t matter. I want to see where this goes.”

Your chest swells. You nod slowly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that.” Relief washes over his face, and he leans close to you.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Well, if you’re such a true-blue cowboy, you’re gonna have to be the one to tell my dad.”

Joel nods. “I’ll handle it.” His voice is quieter, but honest. His gaze seems to look a little far away.

You squeeze his hand. “We’ll handle it.” You give him an encouraging smile. “Don’t have to do everything by ourselves right?”

He gives you a warm look. “Right.” He dips toward you for a chaste kiss. It’s sweet and playful. “Just don’t make me wait too long to take you out proper,” he rumbles as he pulls his head back.

You laugh airily, leaning into his side as he pulls you closer. The warmth of his arm around you, the weight of his hat still on your head, and the quiet promise of what’s to come settle over you, the world around you fading into a comfortable hum of possibilities for you and your cowboy Joel.

thank you for reading! pls let me know what you think <3

dividers by @/saradika-graphics tags for babes in case they want some cowboy joel: @lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame @indiegirlunited @syd-djarin @harriedandharassed

@bbyanarchist @94namkooksworld

[goddammitjosef]

Give me the name of every movie/documentary/things like that that has Alexander on it. Please😄

Warning: most are in Russian, good luck if you don't speak Russian

ok I'm not a big movie guy, so bare with me.

NORTHERN SPHINX

(Северный сфинкс) (2003)

Based on the novel of the same name by P. Gnedich.

About dramatic events in the fate of the Russian Emperor Alexander I. It was a time of mystical movements, Masonic lodges, the Holy Alliance, the Patriotic War of 1812, the Decembrists, Pushkin and the heyday of Russian poetry.

EMPIRE: ALEXANDER I

(Империя: Александр I) (2024)

The two-part film "Alexander I" is the fifth part of the documentary-fiction cycle "Empire", telling about the key historical events that shaped the path of the Russian Empire.

Having come to power as a result of a palace coup, Alexander I dreamed of a political reorganization of Russian society, and perhaps, if not for the opposition of the conservative nobility, Alexander's reforms could have significantly influenced the state structure. However, as we know, history does not require the subjunctive mood, and Alexander Pavlovich was destined for a completely different, much more important role.

He forever inscribed himself in history as the conqueror of Napoleon Bonaparte, a far-sighted strategist and diplomat, a loyal and loving son of his Fatherland.

ALEXANDER I

(Александр I) (2024)

Raised by his grandmother, Empress Catherine II, who saw in her eldest grandson the direct heir to the throne, and the European teacher Lagarp, Alexander adheres to liberal views and admires the first years of Napoleon's rule: he dreams that Russia will one day have a republic.

After Catherine's death, during the reign of Paul I, Alexander continued to hope for reform. However, he soon becomes disillusioned with Pavel both as a father and as a statesman. As a result of the conspiracy, Emperor Paul I is killed, and Alexander, haunted by guilt over his father's death, is forced to ascend the throne in order to resist the new intrigues of the aristocrats and his domineering mother. At the same time, Alexander understands that Russia is under threat: war with the invincible Napoleon is inevitable, it's only a matter of time.

DANCING ON GRAVES

(Tanssi yli hautojen) (1950)

In the early 1800s, Finnish governor's daughter first detests but soon falls in love with Russian Czar Alexander I who has just taken Finland over from Sweden's rule.

THE INVISIBLE TRAVELER

(Незримый путешественник) (1998)

The film tells about the everyday life, the most ordinary days of Emperor Alexander I and his wife Elizabeth , which they spent in Taganrog. As is known from history, in 1825 Taganrog became the place of the sovereign's last refuge. However, the film traces an unofficial historical version, according to which Alexander staged his death and funeral, leaving the throne in favor of a solitary life.

These are just the ones where Alexander is the main focus though, for more, you can check this Wikipedia page.

[enden-k]

ZY. THE MAN YOU ARE

There is something really attractive to me about the tone of your stories (not to say that they are similar. Because they are each very interesting in their own way) being all about noticing someone that sees themselves as invisible. All eyes (heh) on them, hardly leaving space for the insecurity to root in again

Be it Zy's antics or Saran's devotion attention, they both are able to bring out their partner from their heads and it's a SIGHT to behold. Love the characterization love the dynamics love the scenarios. Love the stories

It's always great to see a character become a healthier version of themselves and it's even better to see it happen from the actions of the ones who love them

CAN'T WAIT TO SEE MORE OF YOUR STORIES

-🦜

KAJSBCKJASCBKJ IM SO HAPPPYYY

no but its ok i get it. the stories are not the same at all (amygdala, a bittersweet love story abt two ppl completing their wishes together, and kingslayers, a story abt a chaotic group of lost souls growing together like a family, growing and healing together and stopping evil from consuming the world) but the dynamics between the couples are similar (ig i have a specific thing LMAO i swear my other canon couple (priest and deity) from another story is not like this, youri and abel are also not like this akjcsbjksabck)

vika has been neglected and ignored by the world due to his condition. he really is dead to them to the point he constantly thinks he is dead (also bc of his broken senses) and became so isolated, it led him to the verge of suicide

vin does not meet the average elf/standards and gets overlooked for his "normal" everything. hes incredibly insecure and doubting himself and his abilities so when he was being used for his immense talent (by the king) he didnt even notice, too happy about being acknowledged and praised like the others

saran loves vika deeply, never taking his eyes off of him, always being near him to show him hes there, vika is alive, hes being seen and it just being saran is enough for vika. he doesnt want anyone or anything else. just the eyes of his love on him

zy pushes vin to become more independent and confident in himself, pushes vin out of the shadows and forward so everyone can see him and how amazing and worthy he is to be with everyone, contrary to what vin himself thinks. zy is so confident and flashy and tall and pulling attention easily, but he rather grabs vin and holds him up high like "hey look at this cool lil guy i found"

i drew this meme for fun but tbh this rlly just perfectly captures zy and his need to show off vin to the world and be acknowledged for being himself kjabscjk

saran lovingly and patiently showers vika in affection and brings him back whenever he gets insecure; zy causes chaos to get vins attention and gets him to show off how capable he actually is whenever hes insecure. in one chapter, the usual unserious, silly zy even scolds titus and bell for leaving vin behind and tells them to apologize and include him in their battles akjagf

(zy doesnt tell how much he believes in vin and how capable and strong he is bc he knows vin will think hes mocking or lying to him. only later, when theyre much closer, does he say those things all casually and have vin almost cry and pass out from his heart beating too fast kajbcskjabjk)

so yeah!!! they rlly are similar in the sense of "when no one else looked, i was there. i believe in you. i will always watch over you"

[doodler16]

3 things to say:

1- "being gay is when a married man cheat on wife with another man"- vivziepop's logic (her lgbtq representation is very conservative if you think about it)

2- I feel like fans know that vivziepop's writing is bullshit and full of pilot holes but they Don't care about it as long there's characters to fuck *cough* loona *cough*,people underestimate the power of horny lol and to this day I still don't understand the hype and praise for loona but this is how Internet works I guess

3- I usually don't care about ships and strange kinks as long it stays fictional and no real person is involved in it BUT i hate it when a creator push it in their "morality teaching shows" it's where I draw the line like you either make serious show about taking abuse seriously to spread awareness or a weird fever dream kink show made for gooners to enjoy, you can't have it both,vivziepop made hypersexuals look like bunch of freaks and stigmatised them even more. "Please guys have sympathy for this character for getting sexually harassed but please don't blame him for sexually harassing others cause trauma made him hypersexual and you have to deal with it, he's just coping!" Like wtf are you serious? There's different ways to coping with trauma including drawing fetishes and kinks and i see no problem with it but harassing others is not coping you are just being peirce of shit, her morality is so flawed what is she even trying to tell audience? Victims of SA become assholes and have free card to harassing others? Wtf? And Yes I am a proshipper and I hate HH/HB because I hate it when a show tell you it's ok to cheat and it's ok to sexually harassing others why? because you said that this show is meant to represent victims but you only made victims feel embarrassed even more about themselves and you backstabbed them like don't you realise when you say your shows is about victims your victims watch the show to feel comfortable and feel being understood only for them seeing angel dust being asshole and sir.pentious getting SA'd as a joke? where's the SA awareness? Like yes we know victims who read SA fanfic as coping exist but not all of them cope the same way and we thought you would tell us how terrible SA can be and how it effects victims horribly ,not using trauma to excuse their shitty behaviours? I hate seeing people getting hurt and I don't want to be near someone telling me that them being asshole is ok because "HB is like bojack horseman and told me it's ok because X And Y" like stfu if you truly know anything about bojack horseman you wouldn't even think of comparing the two also you're an adult and if a dumb cartoon made you harassing others then you weren't good person in the first place you bastard maybe talk to therapy instead because creating trauma to others will never help you also not to mention half of fanbase of HH/HB are minors thanks to lazyass parents and society gaslighting everyone with "if it's cartoon then it's for kids" but the audience is out of vivziepop's control do i am not gonna blame her for this one but all i know is that unlike adults who are aware and responsible for their actions minors brain is not fully developed and they can be misguided most of times so i am worried about them growing up with vivziepop's 'morality' so i don't know the solution of who is watching cartoon and i think we should normalizing shaming lazy parents like don't be a parent if you would just let internet babysitting your child instead of you doing it yourself parenting is called parenting for a reason you're called "parent" not "birth giver", why am I proshipper? Because I don't care about others ships but I don't like the She-ra's "lesbians can't be abusive! You must feel bad for your abuser and you owe them everything and you should forgive them" Message and vivziepop's "if you're in straight marriage and you find out you're gay just cheat oh and if you have trauma it's ok to be asshole" Message (I hope you understand what I am trying to say and I hope you understand we have same goals before you tell me I am terrible as abusers just because i don't care about others ships and believing that fictional things doesn't matter as long it's fictional)

Alright I am done,scream at me I guess

The fans would also fill in the holes regarding Helluva Boss and doesn’t help that Vivziepop would like tweets about it. Don’t like tweets of your fans defending your show. Put and write it into your dialogue not on Twitter 😭

Yeah, Vivziepop has a huge problem of wanting her cake and eating it. Like what you mentioned Anon, the sexual assault jokes then another moment taking it seriously. Rinse and repeat. The moral compass in Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss is so wish-washy.

Successfully killed straight married couple. Cool. Oh no, Blitzø doesn’t have the guts to kill a gay couple. Woahh apparently it’s character development (despite Blitzø fighting over a parking lot like an Anon in my last ask mentioned, happily participating in a Wrath competition in Millie’s hometown, killing lumberjacks, happily will screw over the cherubs, etc etc).

Most of the characters especially if a character is Vivziepop’s favorite, don’t get held accountable and when they do have a chance to be called out, it’s usually downgraded in some way or there is some excuse in said action.

Its funny you bring up the children in Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss because there was literally a situation where like what a 9-10 year old was at a Hazbin convention asking Blake Roman an inappropriate question regarding Angel Dust. It is so mind boggling to watch. Hazbin and Helluva are supposed to be for adults (+18) but the both shows don’t seem adult despite covering big topics like rape, kinks, etc. It feels like 2 kids in a trench coat attempting to sneak into a R rated movie.

At the day it’s the parent’s responsibility and they should be called out. It also doesn’t help that a few voice actors like Amir encourage kids and parents to watch Hazbin Hotel, despite Vivziepop expressing multiple times it’s for adults. I don’t know if he changed his mind about kids accessing Hazbin Hotel but I hope he does.

Vivziepop could potentially age gate Helluva Boss (I’m not talking about the warning sequence from Helluva Boss that flashes for 5-10 seconds every episode). But like manually do this:

But Vivziepop would lose some more views if that happened. Otherwise there isn’t much she can do.

[atrustfulplace]

looking at 911 and shows that queer bait makes me feel deranged. because like i’ve seen all the classic queer bait shows, some of which i ship (destiel), some of which i don’t (johnlock) and some i can go either way on (merlin/arthur). To me what makes me look at a story and decide whether i ship the characters is the question: would this make a better story if they were together? Usually i can see the straight explanation as possible but often i think it makes for a less intresting story. like dean could have had completely platonic feelings for cas and he just thought of him as a bestie, but the story and deans character become WAY more intresting if he was queer of some kind and in love with cas. Stuff that doesn’t have the same meaning for a straight person, can be world defining if the character is queer (ex: john having him kill the lesbian nuns). it’s that simple to me, destiel makes the story better.

now let’s look at 911, specifically eddie diaz. like i mentioned i can always see the straight explanation, stories can make sense without a character being queer, often they are just worse ones. eddie is my exception, i legitimately cannot see his story as anything other than that of a closeted gay man. like let’s take buck out of this, like the shipper goggles are off here, his and bucks relationship is fruity as fuck but it doesn’t even have to be counted to argue for a gay eddie.

like you have this character and he married the first woman he sleeps with because she gets pregnant and they are both catholic so they are pressured into marriage. he joins the army to get away from her and the responsibility. he would literally rather be SHOT AT than be married to his wife. when he finally gets back home he and his wife fight constantly, he will not give up the simplistic of things to support the needs of a woman who has put her life on hold for years so he could runaway from his family. she leaves, giving no phone number or address and the man is now a single father. years pass and they meet again, not because he wanted her in his life but because he needed her. she tells him that she’s pregnant again and he proposes to her again. she dies and he spends years using her as an excuse to no date women. (all the while growing incredibly close and co-dependent with his best friend who helps raise his child with him). when he finally starts dating again it is because everyone in his life is telling him he should, the relationship gets serious and when someone implies they have a serious future together he has a panic attack so bad he falls over and goes to the hospital. he breaks up with her because he was only dating her because his son loved her. again he spends years before dating again, saying when asked that why he isn’t dating is because his late wife was the love of his life, the woman who he spent LESS THAN A YEAR LIVING IN THE SAME SPACE WITH, WHO IN THAT TIME HE WOULD CONSTANTLY FIGHT WITH, but she was who he was meant to be with. ok eddie sure. when asked why he hates dates he says it’s because he has to pretend. he dates another woman after his family and friends pressure him again. he asks her to move in with him way to soon then quickly comes up with an excuse not to have sex with her, she moves out, they still date. he meets the carbon copy of his dead wife who he proceeds to have an emotional affair with, not physical at all, all his relationships implode from the fall out.

like this story doesn’t make sense for someone who is not gay. the pressure from the church, the denial about the realities of his marriage as an excuse not to date, HAVING A PANIC ATTACK WHEN HE THINKS ABOUT MARRYING A WOMAN, making exuses not to have sex. on its own maybe i could believe he is straight but together it literally does not make sense if he was. the stuff they add to make him seem more straight (dead wife obsession) is what convinces me the most that he is gay!!!!!

the funniest part is that if they actually made him gay they could have one of the most well written and authentic portrayals of deeply held internalized homophobia, repression, coming out later in life, and ultimately choosing happiness and love despite all of those challenges. like he makes me insane, i don’t even like him that much!!! like he’s tied with every other character on the show for me. but he confuses me in a way that none of the other characters come near touching. like eddie diaz I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE!!!!

tld r: eddie diaz as a character does not make sense as anything other than as a closeted gay man.

[thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask]

I saw one of your posts if the creepypastas or proxies darling was famous. What type of celebrity like an old childhood favorite actor/actress for example would the proxies take? Would Ticci Toby take a celebrity who is an actor or an author for instance?

I feel like Toby would want a famous darling who starred in one of his favorite rom coms or was a voice actor of sorts. But, I could also see him Kidnapping a darling that he liked when he was younger, like an actor who was around his age. If it was an actor who Toby liked when he was younger, I can see Toby watching your stuff whenever he needed comfort, because your character was hilarious, you two were roughly the same age, and you were really pretty.

I can see Tim Kidnapping a darling who is more like a neighborhood or town/city celeb. He does not want to kidnap no international, well known celeb, nah, he wants the person that everyone either wants to date or be. They're not so famous where he can't hide them in plain site, but they're famous enough where he can brag to Toby and Brian about it.

Brian would kidnap a model. Brian loves photography and cinematography, so who better to have than a darling who models for a living. He doesn't need to find out your right angles or what poses to have you do because you already know. Don't want to take a picture for him in lingerie? Fine. Starve for a week straight. Still don't want to do it? OK, guess you want him to take all that beauty away. What will the public think when he anonymously post all of those photos onto the dark web, ans then he'll read to you every single rude and disgusting comment people at to say. This man will ruin you.

Ben would kidnap a streamer, hands down. Ben is the biggest nerd of century, loving all things video games and anime related. Before he kidnapped you he would binge your videos, making sure to pop into every single live stream from start to finish. Sometimes he thought about hacking into your stream just to mess with you, or to just come out of your TV in the middle of your live and just kidnap you then. But, Ben knew better. He'd much rather terrorize you in private and release the feed later rather than doing it in real time.

LJ would love the star of a circus. Maybe your think is fire breathing, or animal taming, or you share his love of clowns. The possibilities are endless. But he would love to have you be apart of his acts and schemes. If you love taking risks he'll definitely test just how far you're willing to go. He will have you leap through circles that are lit on fire. Or, he'll have you tightrope walk with heels, or maybe with weights of both your arms. And don't even think about refusing him.

Jeff is definitely taking a true crime Podcaster. You only peeped his interest because one day you made a video discussing his crimes and how he was still on the loose. This caused him to spiral into an endless amount of fantasizes.

[djangari]

Marc would not dye his hair together with vale (maybe blond/platinum once, but that’s it), he would absolutely be the one to dye Vale’s hair blue over the sink in some restroom at 3am while both of them are completely drunk though.

Since Vale dyed his hair blue after seeing the movie "nirvana" and the short-blue-haired woman in that, they probably saw the movie together and dyed vale’s hair directly after. (Also marc probably mentioned thinking she was hot while watching which is completely unrelated to vale dying his hair of course)

Also someone once mentioned that during Vale’s lesbian era, somebody at home thought that Vale was his girlfriend (since he looked like a girl), that would definitely also happen to marc. (They would use it to get some discount at restaurants at valentine’s day of something)

OH MY.

Ty anon so much for this, BECAUSE YOU ARE RIGHT. YOU ARE SO SO RIGHT.

Ok, this definitely will go into my same age AU (when finally the day comes on that I write it) [only if you don't have anything against that of course?????] but damn am I sad that I can't use this in the thing I am currently writing....

Still ty so much for planting that imagination into my head TT

[ethanhvnt]

Heyyy uh idk if I'll ever post this fanfic but slaps this snippet in ur face

Ethan hadn't always been Ethan. Frankly, it was an identity he put on while working for the IMF. For his own safety. Being able to have two (relatively) separate lives without being disrupted. Even though he was more times than not torn between the two. He couldn't exactly clone himself to be in two places at the same time. God, that would've probably made his life easier. He would've had more time to spend with his friends and close friends and even "family" he had as both Pete Mitchell and Ethan Hunt.

He had often found himself being Ethan. It's what just happened. The IMF needed him more, and he wouldn't decline a mission. But it had been quiet for a while from their side. So Ethan— or Pete, he couldn't even tell anymore— took the opportunity to spend more time doing work. Well, not exactly "work." He was a test pilot— Top Gun was under fire, and he had to prove that The Navy had to keep the program afloat cause nothing could actually replace real aviators. So he put himself through extreme levels of speed, passing over Mach 10.

Which is a lot. It was a miracle he survived. He wouldn't know how to tell his friends, Benji, Luther, Ilsa— hell, even Ice or Bradley. If he had died during the process, who knows how they would react to the news?

But God—if there even was one— wouldn't let him die. So, guess he's alive for the time being. No recklessness or cockiness would kill him. It's not like he wanted to die or actively had sought out the chance of death. But he wouldn't mind if he did, in fact, die. He'd finally get that rest he'd been promised for so long.

It all felt like a blur to him. One second, he was testing out flying a plane to reach Mach 10 cause apparently Mach 9 wasn't enough for those snobby higher-ups. The other he found himself in an office, speaking to Admiral Cain, who had chewed him out for his actions during testing. But he had also said that Pete had apparently— been assigned back to Top Gun. Not as a student— course not. But as an instructor. Pete had rebuttaled, stating that he wasn't fit to be an instructor and that the time frame he had gotten was too small and not enough for a mission of this caliber. But nonetheless, he felt hopeless when he heard that it was Ice that had assigned him to the job. He couldn't say anything against that.

The mission was to destroy an unsanctioned uranium enrichment plant, before it was up and running. A mission that could leave some— if not all of the pilots involved dead. But with his experience with impossible things, he'd just have to think like Ethan did, for a moment. Ethan had always accomplished the impossible. So maybe there was a way for them to fly this, and make it out safely without any major casualties. He'd promised himself he wouldn't let anyone lose their life, he'd make them all work as a team, effectively. It would go great, that's what he reassured himself anyway. He wouldn't let anything bad happen, not under his watch.

OK, that was it bye *explodes cutely* (sorry if I got any top gun shit wrong cuz top gun is not my main hyperfixation rn) time to figure out how to continue it heh

[shanblackrx]

Ok so I'm feeling very alone on bluesky screaming about this show for a week straight with almost no one listening and since I refuse to go back to Xitter I had to bring it over since I know thai BL fandom here is fortunately still going strong.

But anyway. After watching Jack & Joker twice in a row, I've been accidentally finding out more things to lose my mind about it bc I'm absolutely normal about this fucking drama and repeatedly replay my favorite scenes.

Like, I was rewatching the kiss scene (ep 9) for god knows which time, and having chosen the hospital scene (ep 7) as my second favorite after it, I realized this parallel so suddenly it punched me in the gut hard enough to go through my torso.

(spoilers for both episodes ahead)

So here's the thing:

First one is when Jack just accepted the demand about Rosé from Boss, and Joke is coming back from the absolute failure of a request for his father to help grandma. The scene is kinda monochromatic, skewed, and with angles from both slightly below and not centered, depicting instability, pressure, like they're cornered. We have the classic color combo of blue and orange, but here, the cold color (blue) is the prominent one. It's also poorly lit, shading their faces for the most part. Jack's hair covers part of his face, making it hard to see it clearly, especially his eyes. He's holding Joke by the neck for dear life. Joke is looking down instead of at him, sad and worried because he knows Jack is putting himself in danger again, but will still follow him to hell and back.

The second one is the first kiss scene. This is after they almost gobbled each other up and are now slowing down to actually savor the kiss. Again we have the classic color combo, but this time the warm color (orange) is the prominent one. The angle is basically eye-level with them, in a straight line, with them centered, depicting the opposite of the previous one - stability, proximity, and balance. The scene is very clear even though it's night time, and it's actually very colorful. The light is coming from the front instead of behind, making their faces visible, the only shade on them coming from each other for how close they are. Jack's touch is light, intimate. We can see his eyes and he's looking at Joke, just as Joke is looking back at him, both with something almost like relief (and horny ik), even though we know Joke was the one who put himself in danger for Jack now. But for them, it feels that it's over, and that they can fucking finally be together without restrictions.

One scene is right before these decisions make them drift apart, despite their feelings. The other is right after they're able to let go of everything holding them back, and give in to their feelings.

Like damn, this is literally the same kind of shot and pose and all and yet they tell such widely different things. Sighs.

I can't applaud all the visual choices for this show enough. Everything is perfect.

Watch Jack & Joker.

[pisshandkerchief]

ok, my real actual review if anyone cares is that it's good and entertaining as a work of historical fiction but if you're a sixties folk music aficionado already and going into this movie expecting it to be an accurate or nuanced portrayal of Dylan's place in the music scene, you're going to be disappointed. The performances that are there are overall good, and everyone clearly put effort into their acting, but the portrayal of the era and the Greenwich Village folk crowd is incredibly surface level. The actual political issues that Dylan was writing about are barely discussed at all. We get brief news clips in the background while Dylan is writing, a few mentions of the Civil Rights movement though none that go into much detail, and the Vietnam war is barely mentioned at all. A lot of the language and set/costuming is not historically accurate, and again the actual scope of the folk scene is barely touched on. Pete Seeger is one of the only representatives of the folk old guard present in the movie, and he is HEAVILY overrepresented (to the point that towards the end of the movie my dad and I actually laughed out loud when he showed up AGAIN seemingly out of nowhere. seriously he's there constantly, it's like he and Joan Baez are the only important figures in Dylan's life). This completely cuts out Phil Ochs' role (he was both inspired by Dylan and deeply envious of him, as Dylan managed to become a vastly successful charting musician while slowly distancing himself from the issues of the time and Phil's music remained deeply political while he himself remained in obscurity. He and Dylan were friends at first but gradually as Dylan gained more success they became rivals. Phil started to consider him a sellout, and Bob continuously insulted him by saying he was more of a journalist than a songwriter. Phil Ochs' dissolution with the changing folk music scene, frustration at being unable to make it big, and worsening struggles with schizophrenia and other mental health issues eventually led him to commit suicide. Personally I think Phil is a much more interesting figure in 60's folk to explore here than Pete Seeger, whose relationship with Dylan has honestly been done to death. Not including him even a little bit was a massive missed opportunity). overall most events are watered down and condensed significantly. The film has an annoying habit of completely inventing performances just as an excuse to have Pete Seeger, Bob Dylan, and Joan Baez all in the same room together at the same time. It also has Bob meeting Pete Seeger for the first time in Woody Guthrie's hospital room, which they both just happen to be visiting at the same time, and performing a song for them both. This is completely made up (Seeger first met Dylan when he saw him perform at a club in Greenwich Village). It does the typical biopic thing of shifting around the order of historical events as an obvious excuse to fit in as many iconic moments from an artist's career as possible, even if it doesn't fit with the time period of the movie (for example: the famous moment where an angry fan yells "Judas!" at Dylan and he responds with, "I don't believe you. You're a liar" happened not at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival when Dylan first went electric but at a concert in Manchester the year after). Another glaring omission is basically the entirety of Peter, Paul, and Mary, the folk trio who ACTUALLY launched Dylan's popularity by covering his song Blowin' In The Wind. They are not mentioned at all, except for a couple cameo appearances by Peter Yarrow who, to my memory, is only referred to by his first name. Dave Van Ronk, another very influential folk musician of the time, is also never mentioned by name in the movie, and his role of early mentor to Dylan is completely given to Pete Seeger. This is especially aggregious as Dylan famously stole the arrangement for House Of The Rising Sun from Van Ronk.

Ok now I could complain about this movie all day but I'm tired so I'll list the few things I did enjoy about it. The performances are overall very good. Timothee Chalamet portrays Dylan way better than I expected, and he hits that nasally Dylan voice in a way that captures the Dylan energy without sounding like an overdone impression. He's a great singer, all of the Dylan covers in the movie sound good and are well performed, and he's better at acting like a little weirdo than I expected him to be. Similarly, Edward Norton does a fantastic job as Pete Seeger and he really does sound like him, he has his cadence and way of speaking down pat (even if his character is WAY too present in the movie). Monica Barbaro is very good as Joan Baez, her singing doesn't sound particularly like Joan at all but her singing voice is good and her chemistry with Dylan is very believable. She's very good at acting her growing frustration with his inattention to her and their crumbling relationship, and my favorite scene in the movie is actually their duet of It Ain't Me Babe at the Newport Folk Festival, which is very emotionally charged and well done. They're two people whose relationship has been decaying for awhile due to Dylan's selfishness and cheating singing this song about being the wrong person for someone directly to each other, and it's very intense. Barbaro in particular portrays Joan's emotions in the scene incredibly well and to be honest it's the most the movie made me feel anything. I wish I could put a clip of it here, because if there's one thing you watch from A Complete Unknown it should be this.

In conclusion: an entertaining movie but if you're a newbie looking to learn more about Dylan's place in the evolution of 60's folk, please don't take this movie at face value. It's not historically accurate at all. Read a book or watch a documentary instead.

my dad and I are going to see the timothee chalamet bob dylan biopic later today....I WILL be giving my review

[sideblogdotjpeg]

ive been thinking about the red string superstition recently and also sol bufo always and it makes me sick how uncannily caldwell tanner has made sol to perfectly target me personally

(+ cropped versions !)

[makiswirl]

can i just say. and this is probably a niche hill to die on. that i am so gobsmacked every time someone vaguely hints at the idea that jotaro doesn't care meaningfully for the other crusaders, usually particularly kakyoin and joseph, when those two actually tend to be the ones he reacts to being hurt the hardest

like he cares for his loved ones!!!! that literally plays into his character motives in every single part he shows up in!!! stop lying to me!!!!!!!

[luna-loveboop]

There's a lot about Twilight's injury arc that makes me wanna cry but every time I read through it Legend is what gets me

Because Legend took his hat off out of respect when going into Twilight's room while he was injured

I don't I ever have or ever will read a "salty and traumatised and not-nice but still good" character as well written as Legend. Because he's mean and snarky and grumpy- and almost always at least one of his eyebrows is down. Twilight even saw him as a bully at first. (Ref. comic 'bully' in Lu archive)

But this is a warrior who will take off his hat for another who got hurt. Legend shows love in almost invisible ways, and his heart is guarded enough to have spikes. But if he's going to see someone who's injured he shows respect and care.

And he showed his care in other ways too- he has so much love for Twilight to show this much past his guarded heart

Legend is always wearing his hat- it is literally something he puts on just as much as his shoes or tunic.

He shows so much love for Twilight through his injury. And him pulling off/putting on his hat is just one small way that was shown.

*dies drowning in tears because legend took off his hat and it means so much and*

Art and comic by Jojo @linkeduniverse au

:)