#im not even really that much into men and if i am its usually men like Jayden

[tastywormfood]

I literally have to hold my breath everytime i look at pictures of George Rextrew. It might be a medical problem by now.

[homoerotvic]

the half of it and the beauty of quiet movies and the quietness of falling in love and the deep meaningful quiet connections that can happen between people regardless of gender and sexuality

[giamee]

╭┄───────────── 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐔𝐕! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

featuring. hsr men 〆 wc. 1.0k

art creds. 海仑 on weibo 〆 contains. mentions of being drunk/drinking, some suggestiveness but still sfw

gia's notes. new layout bc im allergic to keeping a theme 🏰 also i'm writing this while i procrastinate an essay. which is due in like.. 8.5 hours. and i am 2k over the word limit. joy upon joy.

╰┄➤ ❝ request. anon 〆 What HSR men says when they are drunk. ❞

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re SWEET when they’re drunk.

his voice gets a touch softer, a little lower so that you have to crane your neck and lean in real close to him to catch what he's saying over the bustle of the bar that you went to and the chatter of your friends that you came with. it’s like you’re in your own little universe with him, the sweet pinkish tint to his cheeks and the dilated pupils a look that you could definitely get used to- not that his usual more reserved look didn’t make your heart hammer in your chest, too.

but it's just so rare to see him like this, for him to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky, like every word that passes your lips is a prayer, whose hands furl and unfurl in his lap like he's itching to touch you (you wish he would).

it's not like he really says much, per se, instead opting to watch your every move wide-eyed and with a slackened jaw. you're growing warm under his gaze, and you stutter out that he'll really have to quit staring at you like that before you get the wrong idea. that does little to stop his actions, though he does flash you a sheepish smile.

"i'm sorry, you just look so beautiful."

you almost choke as you take a sip of your own drink.

gepard, dan heng (imbibitor lunae), moze, luocha

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re FLIRTY when they’re drunk.

it should be illegal for him to be this much of a smooth talker with that many drinks in his system. he's completely and utterly shameless, one arm rested casually against the back of your chair and his whole undivided attention on you as he throws every line he knows right at you hoping that one will land.

you'd be lying if you said that you weren't enjoying this attention from him, though there's the remaining sober part of you screaming how he's just a friend over and over, but when he dips his head low to whisper into your ear you're delighted to find that part of you audibly drown out.

everything about him is just so... tantalising. the way his silver tongue darts out to swipe across his lip, him not missing the way your eyes follow the movement. the way he leans back in his seat, the hungry yet calculating look in his eyes doing something to you. the way you see him deliberating over something before finally opening his mouth to speak.

and when he asks you if you want to get out here with him, it's only natural for you to accept his offer.

aventurine (realistically he gets sad when he drinks but that is not romantical or lighthearted at all) jiaoqiu, gallagher, boothill

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TALKATIVE when they’re drunk.

even on a good day, he's known to just talk, and talk, and talk if he gets going. that particular quality only seems to be amplified by the alcohol coursing through his system. he's been talking your ear off for the past half hour or so, a never-ending flow of words escaping his lips as he seems to he telling you just about everything that's on his mind.

you see the glances from others, the pity edging its way to concern adorning their features, but little do they know that you don't mind one bit.

while he may not be everyone's favourite to talk to, you've always found something within you compelled to sit and listen while he talks. he's always had something interesting to say, always been wary of if you are feeling tired or bored (not that you ever would be of him), and over your few encounters you've grown to be rather fond of him.

he's still talking now, an enthusiastic gleam in his eye as you smile and nod, propping your chin against your hand as you get comfy and study his features unbothered.

he sees the affectionate look on your face and stops for a moment, smiling widely and stuttering a few times before continuing.

dr ratio, sampo, mr reca, argenti

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TIRED when they’re drunk.

it's something that happened once, a few months ago when you had drank with them for the first time. you had all been in a group, and you had been chatting away with your friends rather livelily (i dont think that's a word) until you promptly felt a weight against your shoulder.

your reactions are a bit sluggish, but when you do turn to see just what it could be you're surprised to see a head of hair, and your tipsy brain just about manages to realise he's slumped over, dozing off on your shoulder, much to the amusement of everyone at the table.

you find it rather funny yourself, sneaking your phone out of your pocket to snap a rather unflattering-angled photo of him (which he still manages to look good in) that you send to him the next morning (he smiled to himself as he saw your grinning face in the corner of it and saved it to his camera roll).

you don't quite have the heart to wake him up or shrug him off, so you sort of just... let him be and continue talking like nothing had happened. some nondescript amount of time later he wakes up, blinking uncertainly as he gains his surroundings, before jolting up ramrod straight and apologising to you.

you giggle, tell him it's alright and tease that he must be getting old to be asleep this early, which is met with an unimpressed look from him.

but from that night onwards, it happens a little too... often to be some chance.

every time he drinks, without fail, his head drops onto your shoulder. it's somewhat of a routine to snap a photo of him like this, to admire it in secret before sending it to him, and it's somewhat of a tradition now for him to wake up and instead send you a reserved smile before letting himself doze off on your shoulder again.

not that either of you are complaining.

blade, jing yuan, caelus, welt

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

[misfortunegirl]

i don't think i have an issue recognizing what emotion is what except for like that *very* specific sinking feeling i have in my stomach that just. makes me want to just throw up and puke and explode and implode and and and----

[mochamadeleines]

Sweethearts and Sweet Dreams <3

“Nothin’?”

“Mhm.”

“Whats behind your back then?”

You sway in place, trying to suppress a knowing smile. “I dont have anything behind my back.” (6.4k words)

tags!! - 18+ modern au! Husband! Joel Miller, Wife! Reader, you guys are happy and in love!, mutual obsession if u squint, lots of exposition im so freaking sorry, pervert Joel if u squint, praise kink joel if you squint, dumbification if you squint, written for those with daddy issues lowkeeyyyyy, written with game joel in mind but could be hbo joel no problem!, lowk i combined the two in my mind, mentions of shy old man joel, housewife! reader (by choice), unspecified age gap but reader is like. thirty? and joels Like...55??, talk about joel taking medication for his anxiety, p in v sex, dirty talk, public sex, outdoor sex, joel has a kink for dresses because i said so? service top joel if you squint, pet names, a pinch of jealousy and possessiveness for fun, playful banter, mentions of maria and tommy and their baby with a made up name Lol, mentions of ellie and sarah (rip), mentions of readers past abusive relationships, talk about joel struggling with substance abuse/addiction and being hospitalized.....Im sure u can theorize why </3, lots of lore ill get into in another fic MAYBE *smirks*, flip flop in perspective, sometimes showing what joel is thinking or what reader is thinking blah blah

authors notes!! - hi there!!! im mocha and this is my first joel fic ever + my first fic posted to tumblr!! im really nervous cuz i havent written anything in months and ive never written joel before so please let me know if you like it!! id love to write more of this au for u guys if theres a demand for it...Thank u for reading!! also barely proof read im ngl. ive been staring at this fic all day im sick of itttt. p.s i dont usually write smut i also kinda do idfk Is this bad or am i tweaking

You step out of the house, morning sun soaking into the roots of your hair and the driveway beneath your feet. Theres a package youve been waiting for. 

You cant contain your grin as you wiggle it out of the hot prison that is your mailbox.

“What the hell are you doin’ out there barefoot?” Joel chastises you from the front door, leaning his elbow on the frame. Joel, your lovely husband of two years. Been together for five. And because of how hard he works, you have the privilege of being a stay at home wife. Some people think that sort of life is stifling, but youve never felt so free. No more jobs you hate, no more financial struggles. Just you, Joel, and your cat, Cement. He likes to pretend it isnt a totally hilarious name for a pet.

You were his first relationship in almost a decade, so it was a lot of work helping him unpack his anxieties about dating, and a lot of work for you to feel safe and unafraid. Honestly? Youve been mistreated by enough men to land you in the psychward.

But Joel never yells at you, he never breaks things when hes angry or threatens to hurt you. He might raise his voice every now and again, but its never because of something you did. Sometimes the stress of life is just too much. 

He works hard, he loves his daughter- daughters- and he would do anything to keep you happy. Whatever you say goes, he says. Even now, you hardly argue. Of course you have disagreements, or off days thatd lead to one of you being especially moody, but the both of you do your best to communicate.

Behind that rough exterior, is someone who just wants to be needed. 

You first met Joel at a youth center you volunteered at, he taught guitar, you taught arts and crafts. Joel says it was your smile and sense of humor that charmed him. It was his singing and southern accent for you.

Your favorite thing about Joel is how soft he gets around you. He says its because you make it easy to be soft. 

Joel was a shy lover at first. He would get nervous just kissing you, or holding your hand. While most people become intimate very early on in their relationship, you and Joel didnt do anything sexual for the first five months of you dated. Sure, you almost did, plenty of times, but he would get so overwhelmed and cut things short. You broke two of your vibrators during this era of your relationship. Embarassing.

You remember your first time very vividly. Joel had worked back to back doubles trying to meet a deadline, and on the final day, after having barely spoken to you for almost a week, you had shown up to his house, unannounced. You were wringing water out of your jacket when he swung the door open. 

“How-” Joel blinks a few times, stepping forward to examine the rainfall. “How long you been out here?”

“Not that long,” You lie and pick up the container you brought off the porch chair. Part of you had a hard time mustering up the courage to even knock on the door. Droplets of water cascade down your chin. “Hi, sorry. I know youre tired.”

He shakes his head, voice soft and warm. “S’fine. Now c’mon, youre gonna get sick.”

Youre seated at the little dining table next to the kitchen now, trying to let the sound of the rainfall ease your nerves.

Joel was quick to grab you a towel, and does the honors of drying your face and hair with it. “Why didnt you jus’ call me? Woulda gotten out of the shower faster if i knew you were gettin’ soaked out there like this.”

“I dunno, sorry.”

“An’ whatd i tell you about apologizin’ all the time?”

“Sor- Uh. Right. Okay.” You tighten your jaw. No more.

Joel moves behind you, now squeezing water out the ends of your hair. “Whas’ that?”

“Oh!-” You peel back the lid, showing it to him. “Old fashion cake donuts are your favorite right? I remember you saying you liked eating them with your coffee in the mornings so…I made these. Youve been working a lot lately and I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Joel gingerly grasps the container from your hands, looking into it. Theyre a warm golden brown, outside evenly fried, and the sweet scent of them hits his nose right away.

“I was just gonna leave them on the doorstep and call you to tell you they were there, but I wanted to see you.”

His adam's apple bobs as he swallows the dryness in his throat. Youre too good for him. 

“Thank you very much.” He presses a kiss to your damp hair. “Now, lets get you into some dry clothes.”

Joel gives you a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers to keep you modest while your clothes wash and dry. 

You wait patiently on his bed for the hot chocolate he promised you before you showered. Theres nothing to watch on the tv, so you just turn it off and reach for the lamp on his nightstand instead. 

He comes in quietly, and sets the mug down beside the lamp. You finally come into focus, clear as day even under the low lighting.

“You uh.. You look nice.”

You blink. “I look nice?”

“In my shirt.”

That gets a smile out of you. 

Joel tips his head towards the mug. “S’hot so, give it a few minutes. Dont want you burnin’ your mouth.”

You nod. “Okay.”

Hes sat beside you now and the two of you sit in silence for a while. Its not awkward, just the kind of silence where both of you want to say something but just.. Cant.

Joel unravels first. “Missed you, y’know. Just been tired.”

“I know.” Your voice wobbles, and Joels jaw tightens like hearing you sound so sad stings him. “I missed you, too.” 

He slides his hand over yours, giving it a squeeze. Its okay. 

“Hey Joel...Can I stay the night?” 

“Sure. Id really like that.”

While you drink your hot chocolate, you and Joel catch up. You both talk about work, and about your new found interest in baking. Joel teases you about your lack of cooking skills, you do the same. Youre both useless. 

When its time to climb into bed, neither of you can actually fall asleep. Joel rolls onto his side, away from you and the window. You follow, curling up like a little cat against his back. The sensation is nice for the both of you.

You speak up after a little while.

“Joel?”

“Mm.”

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

He scoffs, voice thick with exhaustion. “Like I'd force you to leave after you brought me such a nice present.”

You let out a little giggle, “So if i didnt, youd kick me out?”

“Id think ‘bout it.”

You gasp, gently shoving at his back. “Thats mean…!”

“S’really not.”

“Oh yeah? And what if I poisoned them?.”

“Then itd jus' be a regular day of your cookin’ then.” Joel reminds you, lighthearted. Too many times where you left the shells in your eggs or burnt toast or left the bacon on the pan for too long.

“You cant get mad at me for my dark past when you made a perfectly good sirloin taste like horse leather.”

“Ugh. Dont remind me. That was like putting a one-hundred dollar bill into a paper shredder. How do either of us stay alive again?”

“Uh. Digiorno?”

“Digiorno.”

After a few moments, Joels rolling over again, and hes guiding your head to settle against his chest. Your arms wrap around him, and his arms around you. 

“Joel,” You whisper. He hums. “Im cold.”

“S’cause youre not wearin’ any pants.”

“And whos fault is that?”

“Still yours.”

“I was left out in the rain like a sad, sopping wet cat. One that was left in a box all alone with no family…” You pretend to sniffle. “Dont you feel bad for me?”

Joel sighs, not saying anything more except making sure the part of the comforter behind your back is tucked into your side so the cold air doesnt get in. When hes done, you do a little shimmy up his body, and throw your leg over his hip. Oh no.

Hes alert now. Very alert. Be normal. Joel hesitates, licking the dryness off his lips. “Uh. Feel better?”

“Mhm.” You push your face into his throat, cat-like, before settling down again. Hes like a radiator.

Actually scratch that, he cant be normal. 

“Darlin’.” He rasps, patting your back to get your attention.

“Mm?”

“Your leg. Move it.”

A few beats pass. “Why?”

“Because…” Wow,  he didnt think hed get this far. You shift forward and Joel lets out a quiet exhale through his nose, one that couldve been masked by the rain if you werent so close.

“Are you-”

“No! No. Its- Its not what you think-” He cant see your face in the darkness but he knows you feel the semi-hard struggling through the confines of his pants. Lame.

“Joel,” You say, soft. Your hands slide up his arm to cradle his jaw. Lightning flashes into the room, giving you a glimpse of Joels tight expression. He whispers your name back, just as soft.

“This is normal.” 

Its normal, it is! Except for the fact that you guys havent had sex yet. The stress of being intimate is too much, kills his boner in a blink. The longer he waits the worse the anxiety gets.

“I-I know.”

You place a hand on his chest, feeling it pound away like crazy through all the soft muscle.  

“Youve been taking your medication, right?”

Has he?

The silence of him thinking is proof enough. “Joel-”

He sighs, rubbing his eyes through the darkness .“I know, I know. Shoot, Im sorry. I just forget sometimes.”

“Its okay.” The pad of your thumb strokes the tops of his cheek, and you press a tender kiss to his mouth to soothe him.  “...Want me to remind you?”

The softness of your lips has him a bit dazed. “Huh?”

“I said, do you want me to remind you? I can- You know, call you before you leave work. Make sure you take them.”

“You know I wake up at five-o-clock in the mornin’ , right?”

“I know.” 

In a whisper, “Okay.”

Joels rough palms trail down your back and stop at the curve of your butt, finger tips delicately tracing the skin above your shorts. You shiver.

Barely above a whisper. “We dont have to go all the way.”

He says your name again, laced with worry. He doesnt want you to feel pressured. 

You pull your leg off his hip and push yourself up, settling your hands on either side of Joels head.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yes-”

“-And you cant get all in your head about it. You stay here, with me. You stay present.”

“Okay, okay.” He nods, a bit defeated. “I will stay present.”

“When you...When you say you dont wanna have sex, what is it that youre thinking exactly? I know you said you just get really nervous but I feel like youre not being totally honest.”

Joel stays quiet, idly rubbing your sides. Maybe you are a cat. Just getting to feel any part of you is soothing. “I jus’ want you to feel good. ‘Fraid ill do somethin’ you dont like.”

“You cant assume how I feel, Joel. Being intimate.. It takes time to learn what the other person likes.”

He sighs. “I know.” Youre always right.

Adding on, “Like I said, we dont have to go all the way,” You lean further back, situating yourself on his hips. He lets out a shaky breath when he feels the pressure of your ass through his sweats.

“But, I want to start somewhere. I want to feel you.” 

“Fuck- Um-” Hes shaking now, letting you grind your hips down onto him. Joel cant seem to control the way his hips instinctively push up to meet yours. Youre both becoming of a mess of little gasps and hot breaths and tiny whimpers already.

You hunch forward, guiding his hand under your your shirt- His shirt- letting him feel up the supple skin of your stomach, then the area where your ribs are, then your-

“And I want you to feel me,”

Surprisingly, you did actually go all the way that night.

Your sex life was a bit of a rocky start, but after Joel got over most of his anxiety, you learned quickly just how goddamn insatiable he was. Five years in and he still regularly makes you sore. 

There are a couple things you learned about him and his sexual interests. He loves to take you in his truck, in your kitchen, in your bathroom, on your couch. Other, riskier places. Anywhere that isnt your bed apparently, not that he isnt fucking you there either.

Joel is handsy, so handsy infact it embarasses you to no end, especially when youre infront of others. Thats usually how it starts, too. First he kisses you, then gropes your hips and your ass, and the next thing you know, youre cumming on his fingers. Then hed bend you over, or get you on your back, or make you ride him. Is it really riding if hes just slamming up into you until your brain turns into mush?

He likes that too. Making you not think.

Youd be lying if you said its only ever him. Sleepy morning handjobs before work, whining to him over the phone and touching yourself to his voice, arching your back into him while you're washing dishes, sucking him off after hours in his office.

And while most men prefer lingerie or little costumes, Joel likes dresses. Dresses that are discreet so he can take you in the backyard when he comes home early and sees you gardening. Or when youre both at a friends house and hes had a little too much to drink and finds himself alone with you. Dresses that make it easy to play his favorite game with you. I touch you, and you make sure we dont get caught by being too loud. Joel really is the worst sometimes.

Now, you only ever wear pants when its cold, or to bed or sometimes when youre lounging, like today. Youre in some shorts and a tank top. Otherwise, its dresses all year round, usually retro styles or ones meant for spring. Joels not picky though, he loves any dress on you.

Even if you wear an extremely modest, white lacey sleep dress, looking like some kind of vintage ghost, the man would still keep you up all night. And he has. He said you looked like a princess. You guess you kind of did.

The entire thing is like an unspoken arrangement between you both. He doesnt tell you to wear them, you just do.

And he works hard to spoil you, so why not buy as many cute dresses as possible? 

You got a cute dress today too, on the same day Joel has off. You think its going to be a new favorite of his.

The big polymailer stays hidden behind your back. Be casual. “Uh- Nothing!”

“Nothin’?”

“Mhm.”

“Whats behind your back then?”

You sway in place, trying to suppress a knowing smile. “I dont have anything behind my back.”

“Lemme see then. Show me your hands-”

“Hey, Mrs. Miller!”

Both you and Joel turn your heads to the voice, and only one of you has the energy to fake a a smile. Your neighbor is stopping in his driveway, having come back from a jog it looks.

“Hi, Lee.” 

Joel really, really, really doesnt like Lee. You dont like him either, but youre not one to cause problems. Lee on the other hand, is. Hes a bit younger than you, and a lot younger than Joel. Hes one of those tech dudes with a massive ego, thinks that youll be swayed by his money and his “charm” and youth as if youre some sad housewife in need of saving. Gross. 

And another thing, Lee doesnt even actually live here! Hes here ever so often to visit his dad between, you dont know, tech expos? You forget. Joel believes he started showing up more often to see you. 

Youre walking towards the porch again. Joels looking especially unhappy to see him today, knuckles pulled taut into a fist. His lips stay pressed into a thin line, careful not to let anything slip out. He usually lets you do most of the talking, as much as it pains him. 

Joels really not a fan of the way Lees eyes take a trip up your bare legs. Little shit.

“Out with no shoes again, Mrs. Miller?”

“You know me, Im uh- Im weird.”

“The weird ones do it best.” He smiles, all teeth. It gives you the creeps. His attention is on Joel now. Its like watching a puppy try to one up a wolf. “Right, Joel?”

“Uh huh.” Whatever that means.

“Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, Mrs. Miller.” Lee crosses into your driveway and you glance briefly at Joel, as if to make sure he isnt going to start growling at the other to stay away. Youre clutching the package to your chest now. 

“Have you ever been to a support group for uh- you know, the spouses of addicts?  I have a friend from work and shes really struggling.” 

Lees tone is sugary sweet, but the fake kind you put in diet soda except that stuff is way better. Joel sighs from the door. You stand there, dumbfounded on the porch steps because what the fuck is he going on about. 

You clear your throat, keeping your voice firm. “No. Ive never needed to.”  

Joels voice cuts in like a knife. “Been clean for almost twenty years now.”

“Yeah but, you know,” He shrugs, squinting a bit under the morning sun. “Relapses happen.”

Joel and Lee are at a stand still, and the moment Joel lets the arm leaning on the frame drop to his side, you know youre in for a lot of trouble. You move quickly towards the door. “We have to get ready for a- uh- a thing? but Im sorry about your friend.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Miller. Im doing my best to support her.” And before he turns away, he just has to be slimy to you. “If you need someone to talk to, Im here for you.”

“No, that really wont be necess-”

Joels slinging a strong arm around you to yank you back inside before shutting the door. 

“Motherfucker,” He hisses to himself, stomping through the walkway and into the kitchen.

“How-” You rub your eyes, letting them adjust to the light inside of the house. You put the package down onto the bar counter that opens up the kitchen and follow Joel to the fridge. “How does he know?? I thought-”

“Been living in this house for decades now,” His expression is tight, brows knitted together while he chugs a bottle of water. “People talk. ‘Specially if I'm being rolled into an ambulance on more than one occasion.” Joel frowns. “Fuck- I shoulda punched him in the fuckin’ face- Do you see how hard he tries so hard to flirt with you infront’a me?”

“I know, love. I was there.” You take the bottle from his hand and set it to the side, then wrap your arms around him. “Try not to let it get to you okay?”

Joel sighs into your hair, giving your body a squeeze. “I know, I know, but jus’ hearin’ him tryin’ta use my baggage to make a pass at you…S’fuckin’ evil.”

“I agree, but I dont want his blood on the driveway.”

“So get it on his driveway instead, got it.”

You giggle and tip your head up to kiss him. The tension eases from Joels shoulders, and he cups your cheeks, letting his worries melt away into your mouth. When the pads of his fingers start to slide under your tank top, youre leaning back. Youll be here for a while if this goes any further.

Joel mindlessly chases your lips, looking a bit pouty now that its over.

“Im gonna start getting ready for the barbecue, okay?”

“This early?”

“I like being punctual.” 

“My brother wont give a damn if were late.” He noses your jaw, pressing a kiss here and there. Your knees are beginning to feel weak. The bastard is trying to distract you.

“But I do. The farmers market opened today, and I promised Maria I'd get her fresh strawberries before we got there, remember?”

“Alright, alright.” He grumbles into your shoulder.

Joel lets you go, watching you round the bar counter to get your package and disappear upstairs.

-

Ever since you came down to a freshly showered Joel, and got into the car with the gift bags you prepared for Maria and Tommy, Hes been staring at you. One wrong move and the drools gonna start pouring out of his mouth.

Your hair is in its relatively natural state, freshly washed and shiny from the oil you put in it. You put on some light makeup, and went a bit heavy handed on the blush to look sunkissed, and topped it off with a flavored lip gloss Joel especially enjoys. 

Now, the dress. Its a pink floral mid-length dress, with a low cut sweetheart neckline and a corset style backing to cinch your waist and push out your chest. The material is thick and pretty, and there are two other layers under the skirt to keep its shape. You have on a pair of little pink pumps with little bows to match. 

The drive to the farmers market is fairly peaceful, the windows are half down and theres music playing at low volume on the radio. You and Joel have different tastes in music, but one genre you can always agree on is alternative rock. 

The weathers beautiful, sun high in the sky, and its not too hot or humid. The day really is perfect. Youre gonna soak up some sun when youre at the barbecue. Hopefully, they made lemonade again too.

Joel has been mostly quiet throughout your shopping. While it would worry some, youve been with him long enough to know that he just has a lot on his mind. What hes thinking about? Maybe youll learn when you make it back home at the end of the day.

You gasp, strolling through the grass to a stand with a mountain of apples. Granny smith, Macintosh, Pink Ladys, Honeycrisp, the works. He grunts, trying to keep the things that are already in your basket steady. You came for strawberries and are going to leave with much more than that.

Joel nudges you softly. “Remember, this is quality stuff, meaning itll go bad faster. Dont get too much.”

“Okay, got it.” You beam, and then begin inspecting the Pink Lady apples first, trying to find the ones with the best color.  He keeps the basket within reach so you can drop your picks in.

"These were Sarahs favorites."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, it was funny 'cause we started arguin' over these or Red Delicious. I think Red Delicious is better."

"Thats so cute! Hmm. Should we get one for her? A Pink Lady?"

"Uh," He thinks on it for a moment, unsure, but the smile on your face helps him make a decision. "Sure, why not."

You drop two perfect Pink Ladys into the basket, moving onto the next pile.

“Hey, Joel.” You grin, holding out a wrinkled granny smith apple. “This one looks like you”

“Ha ha.” He deadpans, and grabs it from you to put back. In turn, hes reaching for the runt of the pile. A pathetically small one sitting near the bottom. “Now this one looks like you.”

“Does not!”

“Does too.” 

The next stand has golden kiwis, and youre practically dragging Joel forward to try them. You ask for one, and the man at the stand slices it into halves, giving you a plastic spoon to go with. 

You let Joel smell it first. “S’good.”

“Lets see if it tastes good.”

You sink your spoon into it, humming when you see how soft and easy it is to scoop out. In your mouth it goes!

Its tastes sweet, a bit mango-y and fucking delicious. You bounce in place, spoon feeding Joel next. “Oh yeah,” He smiles, smacking his lips a bit to really let the taste settle on his tongue. “Were takin’ some of these.”

You take one, then two, then three and four then five and as you reach for the sixth one, Joels stopping you with a gentle hand. 

“Darlin’.” 

“Right.” 

For the next few stands its just you and Joel trying various kinds of fruit. Starfruit, blueberries, some mangos, and then youre going back to the truck.

“I think my favorites were the mangos and golden kiwis. I hope Maria and Tommy have enough space in their fridge for all of this.”

“They moved into a bigger house, I reckon their fridge s’probably bigger, too.”

“What time is it?” 

You let go of Joels arm so he can switch the basket from one hand to the other. 

“‘Bout…” Hes squinting at his watch. “12:34 in the afternoon.”

“Oh! Guess we got the shopping done sooner than I expected. Hmm. Should we stop somewhere in the mean time?-" You snap your finger when you remember something. "They opened up this cafe that has cats in it! We can drink coffee and play with them for bit! The next fourty-five minutes will go by super fast."

“Youre gonna make Cement jealous.”

You bat your hand dismissively. “Hes not gonna caaare.” 

“Oh yes he will. And remind me again why we named our cat Cement?

“Uh, we were both drunk and had gotten him the day before without a name picked out?”

“A whole year later and we still kept it. Worst pet owners ever.” Joel chuckles, opening the passenger door for you like he always does. 

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

The giant basket of fruit goes into the back seat next to the gift bags before Joel slots himself into the drivers seat. 

You fumble with the radio a bit, trying to see what else is on but ultimately landing back on your preferred station. Theyve been playing a lot of Linkin Park recently. Hell yeah. Joel buckles himself in at last, and pulls out of the parking lot. 

“Marias gonna teach me how to make baked chicken,” You hum, gazing outside the window.

“You sure youre not jus’ unteachable?”

“Ha ha,” You lightly shove his shoulder, making him smile. “I thought you loved the meat sauce pasta I learned how to make.”

He settles into his seat more comfortably at the stop light, elbow rested on the window. “Got me with that one. Think I like ground turkey over beef, though.”

“Yeah? Me too. The beef tastes better but the turkey is lighter. Stops me from feeling all sick.”

“Agreed.”

Youre looking out the windshield now. Where did all the buildings go? Youre out of the city. 

“Uh, Joel?”

“Mm?”

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere to kill time.”

“Yeah but where?”

“Youll see.” 

Your brows pinch together. “I see a whole lot of nothing except for trees."

“Almost there.”

Joel makes a hasty left turn onto some campgrounds. Your stomach starts to twist into excited knots. Is he gonna show you a baby deer or something? Bunnies? He used to be a park ranger for this area, and would tell you stories about all sorts of baby animals hed run into.

The car comes to a stop, and he turns the engine off. Silence.

“So…Were out in the woods to kill time?”

“Mhm.” Joel unbuckles his seat belt and twists into the back to grab the spare jacket he usually keeps there, then gets out of the truck and comes around the back to open the door for you. 

He holds your hand to help you get down from the passenger side, and as soon as both of your shoes hit the ground Joel is on you. 

You dont know where your hands should go, youve kissed Joel a thousand times and yet you still get so flustered when he catches you by surprise. You keep your hands on his shoulders for now, letting him press wet kisses to your neck and shoulder.

“This is new right? The dress?” He gives your ass an appreciative squeeze through the fabric. “Thought you looked so pretty when you came down stairs in it.” 

Your heads spinning. Something about your dress? 

“Woulda been okay if you let me have you earlier.” He pulls away, examining your flushed face cradled by his hand. Every part of you just fits so well in his palms. “Then I thought, why not have you now? We got time to spare.”

“Joel- We- Someone could see us-” You sputter, and Joels already shaking his head with a knowing smirk. He pulls you around to the bed of the truck, popping it open, only pausing to spread open the jacket he grabbed, just having just thrown it in there when he came around to get you.

“No ones gonna come lookin’ for us.” He turns you around, pushing you down onto your front. “As long as youre quiet.” 

Fuck. You really hate this game. At least, you like to tell yourself that.

Blood rushes to your ears while Joels rough palms lift up the skirt of your dress, exposing your ass and thighs to the cool air. He whistles from behind you. 

“Red lace panties?” His fingers dont shy away from tracing along the fabric covering your cunt. “This new too?”

You crane your neck over your shoulder to look at his face. “Uh.. Surprise?”

Joels smiling now, fingers dipping under the lace. “Thas' awfully sweet of you.”

His touch slips and slides around your growing wetness, then trails down to your clit. Your voice wobbles a bit and fuck- fuck hes going too fast. “Joel- Ah-” You whimper and try to push yourself up to look at him but his hand is steady on your spine, keeping you down. 

Smug, “Go on, sweetheart. Keep sayin’ my name. Jus’ like that.”

A whine escapes you when he pulls away, “Nooo.” You push your ass back, as if to entice him. You succeed, because hes skipped his usual routine of fucking you with his hands and is now unbuckling his belt.

Joel rolls you onto your back, and peels your underwear all the way off, bunching it up and shoving it into his back pocket. Your face burns just watching him.

“Think i'll hold onto these for a lil’ while.”

His hands push the back of your knees towards your chest, exposing your heat. Youll never get used to the way he just seems so interested just watching your cunt squeeze around nothing. 

“Thats-” You swallow, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. "Joel.”

“Relax." He coos, "Seen it a thousand times already, and ill be seein' it a thousand more. Get used to it, honey.”

Your attention flickers down to where his dick is about to meet your entrance. Joels nudging you down onto your back again and pulling the top of your dress down to expose your chest. Its when youre distracted that he actually moves to push himself in.

Both of you groan together, and Joel could never get bored of fucking you, not when your cunt just pulses around him everytime hes inside you.

Joel wastes no time fucking you once he eases all the way inside. Youre trying your best to keep quiet. Shit is no easy task. Its like Joel is trying to get you guys arrested.

He props himself up with a hand near your head, and lets the other keep one of your legs pinned open. The moans start to claw out of your throat. “Joel- Joel-” 

“Shh. Thas’ enough.” He growls through his teeth, fucking you harder. “Youre gonna- Gh- Get us caught-”

Something rustles between the trees, making you both freeze. You clasp your hands over your mouth, watching Joel straighten up to look around.

After a few seconds of squinting, Joel can see a few foxes moving about through the trees. Thank fuck. His shoulders visibly relax.

Hushed, “E-Everything okay?”

“Yeah, jus’ some animals.” 

And like that, hes back to it. His dick is going to make your eyes permanently stay rolled into your head. 

Joel is always just so handsome when hes pounding into you. His forehead gets shiny with sweat, and his jaw is tight from clenching his teeth, keeping himself quiet so he can focus on your moans. His face is noticeably redder against his usual farmers tan too. Really, hes just so attractive.

A flurry of yes and harder and fuck spills out of your mouth and into your palms. Not too loud, you try to remind yourself.

“Joel- S’too much-”

“Nah, thas’ not it.” He huffs, humorous. “You can take it. Y'always do. In fact, you love gettin’ your cunt bullied by me, aint that right?” As if to get his point across, he thrust in all the way to the hilt, making you keen. You forgot how to breathe, lungs drawing tight in your chest.

"Fuck," You manage to squeeze out.

Your palms push weakly at his shoulders, trying to ground yourself somehow. His head drops to the junction of your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply.

“You good?” He checks in, breath hot on your skin. As if your crying isnt enough.

“So g-good, Joel- Fuck- Youre so good.” 

With a little nod, Joels pushing himself up, switching to slow and deep strokes, really digging himself into you, and trying to find that spot he likes to call home.

He massages your chest, then squeezes your sides and your hips and finally, his thumb finds your clit. Immediately, you jolt. 

“Oh fuck-” 

“Quiet.” And he says it to keep the charade going, even though his favorite thing is hearing your sobs.

His thumb rubbing incessantly against your that sweet little nub of yours. You choke, and Joels chuckling, watching the way you squirm, body not knowing whether it should lean into his touch because its too good or away because its too much.

It starts with this firey feeling under the pad of his thumb, then deep inside your stuffed cunt. Youre going to cum. 

Your hands fly to your mouth again, and you get all wide eyed from the sensation. Its cute. Your muscles pull taut, legs locking around Joels hips. Youre wailing into your palm when it happens.

“Good girl,” His voice soothes you through it. “Very good.”

He pets away the fly aways sticking to your sweaty face when its over. Your eyes drop shut while you catch your breath. 

Joels moving again now. He rolls his hips a few times, and thumb is building the foundation of another orgasm in you. Youre shaking badly.

Your words slur too, “Cant- Too soon- Joel- Joel-”

“Another one.” Joel says firmly, but breathless. 

Youre gasping, not sure where to focus your eyes. The trees around you look like theyre spinning. Your attention is back on Joel, whos looking rather satisfied watching you squirm and cry. If thats how wants to play, then fine.

Your hands slide up Joels biceps, and rests on the nap of his neck to bring him down. “Juh-Joel,” You pant, cradling his face with both hands. “Youre so good- The best-”

Oh, Joel likes that one, you can tell by the way he looks away briefly. Shyness. Excitement runs up your spine. Joel loves being told hes doing well. 

“You are- Nghh-” You swallow the drool in your mouth, trying to get the words out clearly. “The best husband I could ever ask for.”

Joel wheezes, head dropping into the curve of your shoulder. “Please.”

“S’true,” You nod rapidly, fingers curling into his hair. “Youre so good to me and-and youre mine and- Joel-  Im yours.”

“Jesus-” He groans, soaking up the feeling of you pressing kisses to his face and up his jaw. 

“Hhah-  No one else can have me, okay? No one- Not even-”

The name doesnt even come out of your mouth before Joels coming to a stop to slip his arms all the way around your middle. With the new leverage he has on your body, hes drilling his way into you. You fucking squeal, rules now long forgotten. Youre a useless ragdoll in his arms and he wouldnt have it any other way.

Your lips are shiny with spit and left over lip gloss, and he can still taste the mintiness in his tongue. Every now and again your eyes drop shut, but his dick just punches into your guts a little harder. Look at me. 

Your brain is mush, just the way he likes it, and youre perfectly pliant in his arms, babbling over how good you feel. Hes kisses along the valley of your breasts now, stopping to suck the flesh of your nipples.

Youre just so pretty. Even when you have bedhead, or youre snotty from a cold, or youre all dirty from working in the garden  youre still so pretty. Including now, all sweaty with you lipgloss all smudged and your mascara starting to run. Youre perfect. 

Joel grunts loud, jaw clenched tight as he gets lost in the feeling of your insides. His perfect little wife.

When he cums, hes doubling over with a loud grunt, getting a few last thrusts in before his spent floods your cunt.

Youre blinking away your tears, now watching the clouds inch along the sky. It really is a beautiful day. You pet Joels sweaty hair, and kiss the side of his temple. Your core throbs faintly. Jesus, he did a number on you.

“Love,” You say softly, patting his back.

“Mm?”

“Get up.” Another pat. “Youre squishing me.” 

Joel backs off to buckle himself up, but you stay seated to catch your breath and adjust your dress. At least it didnt get ripped during all the… Commotion. Not like last time.

“I need my underwear back.”

“Nope,”

“Joel.”

He kisses the center of your forehead and helps you down from the bed and into the passenger seat instead.  “Told you i'm keepin’ ‘em.”

You sputter, “I cant go to barbecue commando!”

“Sure you can.” He pops open the glove compartment and gets out some tissues, hand snaking under your dress again to clean you. You sigh softly at the sensation.

“Youre the worst.”

“I am indeed the worst.” Joel pulls the seatbelt over your chest and clicks it in. “You can tell me all about it on the way to Tommys.” 

[harmeu]

HOW DO HSR MEN REACT TO THEIR S/O NOT ACTING LIKE THEIR NORMAL SELF

(GN!Reader)

(Boothill, Dr. Ratio, Sunday)

BOOTHILL:

Something was wrong today and Boothill knew it. You were occasionally picking at your food. More quiet than usual. And didn’t even kiss him goodnight! Do you know how much that hurt the poor guy? He nuzzled into a unicorn stuffy to make himself feel better for goodness sake!

But you had him worried. Really worried.

“Ay, you doing alright?” He murmured, fixing his hat giving you his signature toothy smile.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You mumbled back a reply which was totally bull. You were feeling really shitty for no reason. It was one of those days where everything was boring and dull.

Boothill taking notice of your quietness he picked you up bridal style making you yelp.

“Babe what on earth!” You choked out surprised and he smirked.

“I’m gonna buy you whatever you want okay? I just wanna see your pretty smile back.” He cooed out stroking your hair making you flush in surprise and happiness.

“..Thanks. I’ve just been out of it.” You mumbled out a reply reddening further at his touch which he chuckled at.

“We all have our days. C’mon!” He put you in a more comfortable position in his arms taking you into the city.

DR. RATIO:

Usually Veritas was the grumpy one in the relationship. Always talking about his studies and all the degrees he’d earn during his days at university. Though none of that came into mind when he saw you acting out of it. When he tried to talk to you, you ignored him! Now that hurt his ego a lot. 

And his feelings.

“May I ask why you are acting in such a different manner than usual?” He said with his occasional stoic tone his gaze narrowing as he saw you sit on the couch staring into space.

“It’s nothing.” You mumble out a reply making Veritas gaze narrow further and his eyebrows furrow into knits.

“Nonsense. I am your spouse. It is obligatory to tell each other how you feel.” He huffed out crossing his arms.

You feeling crappy and not wanting to deal with his constant persistence gave up.

“I just feel tired. Everything seems so dull today.” You pull your knees to your chest praying he didn’t see your exhausted state that was there for no reason.

Veritas eyes softened. He grabbed your hand and kissed its knuckles making you flush ever so lightly.

“What are y-”

“Tell me what I can do to make the boredom vanish.” He cuts you off murmuring into your knuckle.

The only thing that came to your mind was..

“Your presence.” You whisper out and Veritas sits on the couch with you letting you lay on his shoulder.

SUNDAY:

Something wasn’t right. Sunday noticed easily with his perspective self. His hands twitched as you didn’t say a singular word to him the entire day. His wings drooped every time you passed by him without saying anything. As well as his halo dimming every time.

“Darling, what’s gotten you acting this way today?” You know his question was genuine but it stung for no reason. Did you need a reason to act this way?

“I’m just more tired than usual. Even though nothing has happened today. I think that's the reason..I know, weird.”

Sunday sighed and he smiled gently using his gloved hand to pick up your chin quietly placing a soft kiss onto your lips makes you stutter. 

“W-what was that for?” You redden looking up at him with wide eyes.

“There's an expression that isn’t dull.” He murmured out ruffling your hair. “You made me think I wasn’t treating you well.” 

You hitch at his words and shake your head rapidly.

“Of course not! You know I love you.” You stare up at him with those wide eyes making Sunday melt and kiss you again.

My posts aren't consistent im so sorry guys : (

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about married poolverine at the x mansion for the Christmas parties.

I like to think that even after he's quit drinking and is older, Wade lets him sit around the mansion and drink a shit ton of egg nog and just.. chill. Wade won't let anyone ask him to do anything except.. what he didn't know.. is that he signed logan up to be santa for the younger kids, and he's definitely dressed as Mrs. Clause, a wig, heels, red and white fluffy skirt, everything.

"You want me to wear what??"

"Oh, come on its for the kids peanut! Besides... ill repay you later~"

"Wade, these kids are like 12 theyre not gonna-....fine"

By the adult party runs around and the kids under 21 are forced off into their rooms, morph kurt and logan are lounging on the couch trying to sing a german carol after busting out the GOOD Alchool but Kurt forgets half of it so its just the three of them mummbling nonsense and wade thinks its the cutest most humble thing he's ever seen Logan do. Just.. a guy being a guy with his friends. And he's so happy. Soooo happy to finally have them back. Even if these aren't HIS x men, he's missed this so bad. Later he will cry because he misses HIS x men but for now? Let him be not sober and forget about that.

"Alright santa. I think its time for bed." Wade says, still in his Mrs. Clause outfit, trying to tug Logans arm up.

"Aye! Get offa me! My husband will kill you!" He throws a fit and backs away, into kurt who's tail flickers and gives her a dirty look. Who does this woman think she is?? Trying to make his friend commit adultery???

Wade pauses, then giggles, realizing just how much makeup he had on right now. He's utterly estatic that Logan won't come with him. It's only really morph whos confused because that's obviously Wade. You would think the guy could smell his own husband right?? Yeahhh... not like this.

"Teehee and that right there is why it's bedtime, peanut." He says, hoping itll spark a few plugs but logan only does the Loading cat face, tilting his head. His face is red from the alchool and the santa make up.

"Don't call me that!" He whines.

Wade rolls his eyes, smiling. "Baby, come on. You're tired." He says in that special voice. The one that leads Logan down to earth when his anger is the only thing he can see when he forgets who he is, when he's having his PTSD attacks.

"... I am?"

"Yes. Now come on. Time for bed."

Kurt whispers not to be tempted by her in his ear, and it's back to square one. It takes Remy interfereing by telling Kurt that this "devil woman" IS Logan's husband and that it's okay.

The whole thing is a mess, and it has Rouge giggling her ass off, hugging her brother as his tail flickers still.

"Ooh!! You big buzz ball! Always lookin afta folks aint ya?" She tells him, squeezing him enough to make him wheeze. "Careful cher, Gambit thinks he wants his ribs attached."

"Nonsense! A lil roughhousin nevah killed nobody!!"

You just see him trying to take Wade to their room and Logan does the little slap at his arms and is like "I can walk by myself lady! Jeez!! ..... wheres my husband? Im gonna tell on you!!"

"I AM your husband." Wade says, finally taking off the wig and caressing his chop the way he usually does. Logan's eyes squint, his eyebrows burrowing together before dilating, and Wade can swear he heard his heart beat quicken.

Laura gags.

"....'sup" he says, pulling him closer with a big idiotic grin.

Wade squeals, now trying to push him away. "Eww!! Never say that again!" He giggles. "You big lud! Bedtime!"

It's the absolute sweetest thing anyone ever witnessed, and it makes Jean happy too to know someone did infact take the big bad putty tat home. Finally-

This is how I want every teacher au Christmas fic to go you understand me? No sentinal drama. No worries. Maayyybbee Magneto if he behaves.

Just let this man be HAPPY for once.

[uchihaharlot]

Hello there, i really love your headcanons tbh maybe the realest ones here

Since I'm here its obvious im in Uchiha hell so,

Could I politely ask for uchihas turn ons and turn offs? I swear to god when i think about them horny it brings a tear to my eye from blissfulness

The realest ones? Nonny, you honor me to the highest degree and I am forever grateful you feel this way. ❤️🥹

I think a better question would be what doesn’t turn these men off (I also think I answered this differently than you might have wanted, I hope not though). 😮‍💨😌 Though none of these men are shallow individuals, so rest assured, anyone would be their type.

Semi-NSFW; just some things that make an Uchiha melt inside

Madara:

All natural women. I’m gonna be honest here; in Madara’s time, the more rounded a woman. The better (for breeding). But in all honesty, he appreciates all shapes and sizes.

His turn off is weakness, she needs to be confident. Which sounds callous, but if she’s not at minimum as much a firecracker as he is. The chemistry is off. Madara needs someone who is going to keep him on his feet with excitement, not someone who will make him second guess their intentions. The more outgoing and confident. The better.

If Madara’s laying her in his bed, she’s going to have to be a very patient woman. This man can go for hours, and a woman who can appreciate his stamina without complaint is high on his priority list, possibly good for breeding. Madara needs to fuck her this way, ok? A test drive so to speak. It’s just how he does it, raw and unadulterated lust. He also won’t tolerate a quickie like some men.

Obito:

Its no secret that Obi, bless his soul, is the black sheep Uchiha. The quiet ones are easier for him to talk to, not because they’re touch starved or anything. But because they are legitimately sweet and soulful. A woman who is confident won’t really make him feel nervous. But what he really wants is to kinda be taken care of, tenderly.

He definitely doesn’t like loud noises or sudden changes, so the more ground and constant, the better. So a woman who has a temper, is not for him. He might get riled with a little spice, but Obito definitely doesn't and won't be a push over, even he has his limits. Obito thrives in a static environment where he can make mistakes without being treated like a child, even better if she babies him a little. I'm sure there is a mommy kink somewhere to explore.

And in bed, he’s a total mess for her, does whatever she wants. If she wants to be treated like a pillow princess and owned, he'll be man enough for it. If she wants to make him beg underneath her, that too.

Shisui:

Shisui 🥹🔥 he’s so fiery!! Definitely is turned on by a woman who is into self care. Bonus points if she agrees to partner stretch with him, it's so hot being able to feel her this way and not sexually...yet. Someone who eats well, the occasional bad food here or there isn’t a problem, but damn if she’s into good diet and exercise, sign him up and don't forget, sparring is like foreplay for him. So, if she ends up pinning him down (like he planned all along), he’s gonna be so desperate for her. And she has to be loyal; to him, to the village and morality.

As for in bed? Their chemistry is so far off the charts, neither one can keep from switching positions. I really think Shisui is one of those men, like most Uchiha but on a different level even to his family, that can go for hours. Just because he can and because he likes to see her all fucked out, it's different from her usual mouthy self, which reminds me. She needs to be just as spunky and spontaneous as he, maybe not on the same level, but a woman who is down for whatever is the best kind of medicine. Especially for a man with the whole village on his shoulders.

Itachi:

I love him, he's such an old soul. They say opposites an attract and while I think he would like someone like himself, I also feel like someone who could keep him on his toes a little. If she's a scholar, this is perfect. Itachi would really enjoy someone who he can discuss world politics with. Not too in-depth, but casually. That level of self awareness the sharingan gifts them with can often leave many Uchiha feeling mismatched, but someone who has wits to his is a godsend.

As for in the sheets, Itachi is someone who is very reserved when it comes to matters of the flesh. Trust and sex go hand in hand, he's not like Shisui who can stick it anywhere, pretty quickly too, (he once told Itachi he used a spaghetti squash as a fleshlight). Trust is earned, gained and has to be absolute. Once this is accomplished, he's so damn tender. The softest moaner, but he does it right in your ear. Hearing and seeing you enjoy sex with him is what ends up getting him going harder. Even better if you speak your desires as he rearranges your insides. As time goes on, you learn what a closeted freak he really is and end up in the false atmosphere of his Tsukuyomi.

[akoyaxs]

Tunutu II

✮ Meaning: object of desire, crush

✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!human reader

✮ Meaning: object of desire, crush

✮ Warnings: Reader POV, smutty smut smut, angst if you squint, slight fingering, P in V, kuru play, fluffiness

✮ Word Count: 3.8k (yes ik im so sorry my darlings, its not that much but i ran out idk what to tell you, i can only do so many mental breakdowns 🤷🏻‍♀️)

So yeah, this one is a little shorter but this was really just to tie it off with a cute little ending, so I hope you enjoy my loves 💗

*Aonung is inspired by this beautiful art made by the lovely @nikyu0 ♡*

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

The next time you saw Aonung after that day in your room, you didn't know what you were expecting. Maybe, like he usually did with other girls, he'd pretend nothing ever happened. Maybe he'd taunt you and say it was all a joke, despite everything you said. 

If you're being honest- you didn't have high hopes. It's not like all your other experiences with Metkayina men had ended with them ackegknowledging you afterward, after half-breaking your back and saying you were the tightest thing they've ever felt. 

But you certainly weren't expecting him to stick to his words.

Days had passed since you slept with Aonung, days in which you didn't see him around the village or anywhere around Awa'atlu. Of course, your mind had just come to terms with the fact he was like all the other guys, and you really had been stupid, listening to the meaningless pillow-talk riff raff he'd cooed at you afterwards.

 

No one would say where he was, and Tsireya, Rotxo and the Sully's all acted infuriatingly knowing and smug when you sneakily asked them. Very casual. Definitely off-hand. Nonchalant for sure.

And you were. It wasn't that deep that Aonung, like you predicted and prepared yourself for, did not stick to his words about sticking around and everything. You were stupid and hopeful, and you didn't really blame him either.

So you were trying your best to put him behind you when a whole week had passed without you seeing him, and you were starting to fall back into your old patterns. It wasn't your fault you were a horny little thing, and especially now so that there wasn't someone to take care of it.

Which is why, on the eighth day, you could be found in the Tsahìk's marui. 

There had been an incident at training where Zei'ke had gotten a little bruised and battered. He was very good looking, so you tolerated his chatter. God- he really was even stupider than Aonung. Why did you always just go for big stupid hunks?

But at the end of the day, he was a big hunk, so you were happy to patch him up, applying ointment to his cuts and bruises, bandaging the worse injuries and massaging his sore muscles.

The trouble was, Tsireya had begged you to come swimming that afternoon, and this was your first time wearing swimmers out in the village. So maybe your bikini was a little smaller than it could of been, but who was it hurting, really, to be showing off the best assets you had to offer in a strictly na'vi village.

It certainly wasn't hurting Zei'ke, given the way his eyes stared not so conspicuously down your top when you bent over, or how the ties of your bikini bottoms peeked over your shorts.

What's the harm in having some fun, you thought.

It wasn't like Aonung was going to do anything, his absence had made it pretty clear that he was a liar, that it really was just about sex, maybe even just experimentation.

But when you moved closer, leaning up to massage Zei'ke's shoulders, you were surprised by the way he flinched back.

"What, am I hurting you?" you ask, frowning slightly. You had been careful, using your hands gently and besides, na'vi were literally impossible for you to injure.

"No," Zei'ke says slowly, blinking owlishly at you. His gaze flicks down to your breasts, then he clears his throat and looks away. You frown.

"Is there a problem with my clothing?"

"No- I just... I should go," he says hastily.

"Why?" you ask, weary and suspicious. You wonder vaguely if suddenly, everyone's starting to wonder if you're turning into the evil sort of tawtute. "I haven't finished massaging your muscles-"

"You shouldn't," Zei'ke says shortly. "He wouldn't like it."

That was new. Your eyes narrow as you try to guess what this skxawng is going on about, but you have a sinking sort of feeling you know exactly what's happening.

"And who are you talking about?"

Zei'ke blinks guiltily. Obviously he wasn't supposed to say anything, but if he was careless and clumsy enough to let the first words slip, you could pull the rest out of him.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain future Olo'eyktan, would it?" you ask casually, shifting on your feet to look more careless. "You know, tall, stupid, very good looking. Name's Aonung?"

"No!" Zei'ke practically bursts out, before scrunching his face up guiltily. Even someone that thick would realise he wasn't convincing anyone. Your eyes narrow further.

"What does him not liking it have to do with anything?" you ask.

"He is my commander," Zei'ke says owlishly.

"No," you huff, growing tired of his incompetence. "Why would he not like it?"

"Because... well... you fucked him..."

"Charming," you mutter under you breath, rolling your eyes at his very limited vocabulary. "What does us sleeping together have to do with anything? I've been with other na'vi men, and that didn't change anything, especially about others?"

Zei'ke frowns, processing your words, and you want to take him by the shoulders and rattle him. It would be hard though, given he's double the size of you.

"You are his," Zei'ke says simply.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"No other man goes near you," Zei'ke explains. "Sometimes we can argue with the claim, but he is to be Olo'eyktan, and we do not dare-"

"What is he playing at?" you snap. "We just fucked, I've fucked others and nothing ever happened with that? Just because he's the little prince he thinks he can control what I do?"

"Uh... I don't know?" he says weakly, and your scowl deepens.

"How did you even know about that anyway?"

"We can all smell his scent on you," Zei'ke says, face flushed with embarrasment. "You did not realise, tawtute?"

"Obviously fucking not," you growl. 

"Besides," Zei'ke says, obviously eager to take some of the heat off himself, "Aonung got upset with us asking about you. That's why I'm so battered."

At this, you freeze. Zei'ke can obviously tell he said something important, because he winces and scrunches his face up.

"I mean- no- I tripped-"

"Shut up," you say carelessly. "You saw Aonung?"

"Yes? I mean... he's been at training for day-"

With a furious growl, you push past Zei'ke, storm out of the marui, and stalk along the village. You can feel his eyes blinking owlishly at you, clearly torn between confusion and worry for what Aonung might do to him.

Rage is boiling in your veins. First, Aonung ignores you after promising a million things. Then he "claims" you or whatever the fuck that means. And now it turns out, he was here. In Awa'atlu. And he just didn't come and see you.

You storm across the sand to the warrior grounds, hands balled into little fists. All the sparring and beatings and fights don't faze you, you storm straight through all the tussles towards the familiar broad figure of Aonung on the very opposite side.

Fights pause and everyone stares as you stride past, all tiny and furious in your bikini and shorts, less clothing than they'd ever seen you in.

Finally, you reach Aonung. He hasn't noticed all his warriors have stopped fighting, he hasn't even noticed you storming towards him. He's busy sharpening a spear, discussing something with Neteyam seated beside him.

Neteyam is the first to spot you, and his eyes go wide. Before he can say anything, Aonung notices his friend's surprise, and turns with a small, puzzled frown on his stupidly handsome face to see you right in front of him.

Thank Eywa he's seated, because it makes your next action a lot easier. You slap him. Hard.

Several people gasp, everyone mutters, and all eyes are now on you as you glare up at him. Aonung's eyes are dark, but he doesn't say anything. He looks a little confused, and that makes you even more furious.

You shove him hard. Mortifyingly, yet predictably if you're looking at it logically, Aonung doesn't move a single inch, and suddenly you're right against his warm, muscular body. Stupid skxawng, his hotness making it hard for you to be mad at him.

"You dick," you growl. "You fucking idiot-"

Aonung clears his throat, clearly aware of everyone watching with varying degrees of surprise, interest and amusement as this little angry tawtute snarls curses at their commander. Neteyam, too, looks slightly entertained.

"Dismissed," he calls to his warriors. 

They all wander off, taking their sweet time to cast glances back at you, muttering excitedly between themselves. Neteyam stands awkwardly, trying to hide a smile.

"I'm going to go," he says decidedly. "I'll see you later bro. Good luck."

Aonung nods tightly, before his gaze flicks back down to you, glaring up at him with all your might. This fucking skxawng is going to be the death of you. He obviously wasn't going to be the first one to speak, so you took a deep breath.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"I was training my warriors," Aonung says bluntly.

"Fucking idiot," you growl. "What are you playing at, claiming me."

"I thought that was clear," Aonung frowns. "You're mine."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" you grumble. 

"I told you syulang-"

"Don't call me that."

"That you would not need any others anymore," Aonung says simply. "I would take care of you from now on."

"Oh?" you snap. "Yeah, you've been doing a great fucking job, given that I haven't seen you in a week."

Aonung frowns deeper, and you take another breath.

"Look Aonung, I can deal with you not wanting to be with a tawtute, I've done this shit before. But don't be acting like you have anything to do with me if you so clearly don't give a fuck."

At this, Aonung just furrows his brow. He's so big compared to you, even when he's seated, you're still the same height. Then, tentatively, one of his hands reaches towards you. You watch it, all large and teal and the size of your fucking head, before it moves to rest on your waist. You don't push it away.

Instead, you just look back up at him. To your annoyance, your anger is fading away. No no no. You should be angry with him. He can't get off this easily. He can't just touch your waist and blink his pretty eyes and make you melt into a gooey puddle.

"I did not mean to upset you paksalin," he says in a soft voice. "I meant what I said- that you're mine and I would take care of you."

"Then why didn't you come and see me?" you whisper. "I waited for you- and when I went looking, no one would tell me where you were."

"I have been on a hunt," Aonung says gently. "My father wanted me to do... something for Olo'eyktan, but that isn't important."

"It sounds important," you say, stepping back slightly, remembering again how this was literally the future leader of the clan.

"Not more than you," Aonung says firmly, grabbing your hand and pulling you back towards him.

It was a moment that would be so cliche if it was anyone else, that you're suddenly right between his seated legs and inches away. But this is Aonung, and you feel your last strands of annoyance and restraint snap as you meet his gaze.

"You look amazing," Aonung whispers, gaze trailing down to your bikini. "I've never seen you wear this."

"Yeah- well I was going to go swimming with Tsireya and I- wait-"

Aonung's hand is already sneaking up your top, the other moving to undo the button of your shorts, and you grip his shoulders for stability.

"Aonung," you breathe. "I'm trying to talk-"

"Let me make it up to you paksalin," he whispers, already shimmying your clothes away so you're just in your bikini now.

"This is a public place," you try to say. "Anyone can see-"

"I dismissed them," Aonung says carelessly. "They know better than to come back."

Before you can do anything else, his hand is in your bikini bottom. You squeeze your eyes shut in slight mortification of how wet you already are, breath shaky and your hands immediately jumping to steady yourself on his broad shoulders.

"I'm sorry yawne," he says quietly, lightly kissing your neck as he lightly traces over your clit.

"That's not fair," you grumble shakily. "Apologising when you're already in my fucking pants."

Aonung just grins and trails his lips further down your neck.

"I want to kiss you," you mutter to Aonung.

"You can't," he points out gently, lightly tracing over your clit. 

"Bedroom," you gasp, as you meet his gaze. "Come on, pretty boy."

You're practically being carried by Aonung as you burst into your house. 

Lo'ak and Spider are on the couch, staring in disbelief and entertainment as you crash through the door in Aonung's arm in nothing but your bikini.

"Be careful with her bro," is all Lo'ak says, him and Spider both grinning stupidly as you flip them off and go into your room.

Really, you've taken na'vi cocks before, but it feels like you're being stretched to infinity as Aonung bullys his way into you. You know he's being gentle as he can, asking if you're comfortable, if you're alright, but you're being stretched as you never had before.

The stretch is a delicious burn as Aonung rocks his hips deeper, until he's as far in as he's going to get, before he pulls out nearly to the tip.

When you turn to glare at him, he snaps his hips forward again and you have no choice but to cling onto him. His lips find his way on your neck, your nails digging into his broad back as he rolls his hips and thrusts deep into you. 

It's rougher this time, you both know you can take him, and you're both more than eager to push to the furthest possible limits. Neither of you mention Lo'ak or Spider, neither of you care enough about them to bother to quiet or slow down. Each thrust punches your breath out of you, and Aonung's practically hissing at the way you're hugging his cock. 

One large hand reaches up to grip the bedhead and push himself deeper in a way that makes you practically scream, the other pulling the strings of your bikini so you're bare under him. It, too, is tossed away, like the rest of your clothes that still lay abandoned on the training grounds floor.

He hisses as your tits are freed, bouncing with every thrust and pushed up against his chest as he thrusts deeper and deeper, his large hands coming up to grip them on the border of being too rough.

After a few experimental movements that have you nearly whimpering, he moves deep and quick, spitting curses and groans at the feeling of you around him and the sound of your shameless moans in his ears.

He's whispering nearly unintelligible things against your neck, words of worship, mutters of how tight you are, little praise of how well you're doing. He's moving at animalistic paces, and you're unravelling into a moaning, trembling mess under him, teeth sunk into his shoulder to try and quiet your sounds, because you sure as fuck can't hold them in.

"Fuck Aonung," you burst out, sinking your teeth into your hand to cover up your sounds. He impatiently pulls your hand away and crashes his lips onto yours.

This time feels more experimentative for you- last time was his first with a human. Now you get to explore, and when you run your tongue lightly over his fangs, he moans shamelessly into your mouth and buries himself deeper in you.

It's starting to get too much, the coil in your stomach growing too close too soon, and your moans are starting to border on lewd whines and whimpers as you sink your teeth into his soft warm lips.

"Aonung," you hiss, "I'm- I'm close."

"Go ahead then," he grins, before sinking his teeth lightly into your collar.

With that, you unravel, crying out and arching so you're pressed right up against him. Your vision blanks out as everything disappears for a moment, the only sound in the world being your cries and Aonung's groaned curses.

He fucks you through your high, wave upon wave of overwhelming pleasure cresting in white-hot disbelief. You can feel him twitch inside of you, and you moan at a particularly hard thrust. Each rock of his hips knocks every breath, every thought out of you until your heart is pounding in rhythm with each increasingly rough, deep, animalistic thrust of his cock rutting between your legs.

Na'vi have seemingly impossible sex drives, which you're only too happy to ride out with Aonung. With your hands gripping for dear life to your sheets and his braided hair, you just hope to Eywa you don't black out. You highly doubt the creases in your sheets will ever come out; if they were living, your desperate shaky hands would have strangled them in your attempts to stay still.

Then your hand slips, and you grip Aonung's kuru by accident. He gasps and looks straight at you.

The look in his eyes has you clenching around him, all dark and hungry and curious and desperate at the same time, pupils blown so wide the beautiful blue of his eyes was all but a thin ocean ring around large black orbs.

"Sorry," you breathe, trying not to melt at the sight of him.

"No, paksalin. You can touch, I am yours."

Again, he has you clenching around him. The pure sincerity of his words goes straight through you, and you tentatively slide your hand down the thick braid that covers his kuru. His movements slow slightly, thrusting deep and slow so he can pay attention to what you're doing.

Then the glowing pink tendrils reached out to your small hands and enclosed one of your thin fingers. 

You, clearly, are not na'vi. But you can feel the neural connection, the intimacy of the kuru, feeling almost as though Aonung himself is coursing through you. The gentle tendrils are warmly pulsing with a soft pinkish glow, matching your and Aonung's heartbeat. You gave an experimental flex of your fingers, and Aonung gasped, hips jerking deep into you, and you both groan.

"Fuck paksalin," he mutters, starting to move again.

As you experiment more with his kuru, trailing it over your fingers, legs and finally breasts, Aonung grows more and more desperate, rutting harder and deeper into you. You can hardly breathe, given that he's practically punching breath from you with each deep movement.

You yelp as he speeds up now, brutal and animalistic as the last tenterhooks of his strained restraint snaps and he buries himself deep inside you. He's hissing a million unintelligible words against your skin as he spills himself inside you, rocking his hips the whole time until, with an ominous creaking, something snaps and suddenly you're being tilted backwards and sliding down the mattress.

Aonung just broke your fucking bed.

"Fuck, sorry," he mumbles, looking mortified, but you can't contain a small laugh, taking his flushed face in your hands and lightly kissing all over his blushing cheeks.

So yeah, he kind of broke your room. And that wasn't the first thing that happened, as your various exploits with the Metkayina prince continued over the next few days.

Sometimes it was in the healing marui you worked in during the days. Aonung would come in, grumbling some bullshit about training too hard and sore muscles or whatever, and you'd find yourself lying on the floor, his large head nestled hungrily between your squishy thighs he loves so much.

Or maybe it would be at the training grounds, where, at the slightest sight of you, Aonung would dismiss all his warriors and have you on your knees on the soft sand, taking him as far as you can in your throat, his large hands gently holding back your hair and passing you your breathing mask every 50 fucking seconds.

It could just as often be at your house too, bouncing on his dick, arched to the sky on your clumsily repaired bed, or pinned back against your lumpy old mattress.

You learnt things, that he felt pressured a lot of the time, that he was comfortable around you. That he could be the sweetest man ever, but you quickly learnt about his jealousy and possessiveness of you when it came to other guys.

It's not like that ever bothered you that much, but you put on a good enough show of no, don't be so jealous, just so he'd be on his hands on knees worshipping and begging for forgiveness that you would have given regardless.

And then there was the moments after. It's not like the heat and desire ever died, no, but there were moments where you'd just sit nestled up against his much larger figure, talking endlessly with him.

And somehow, you always managed to end up naked. And somehow, your clothes that would always be hastily discarded never returned.

You were starting to suspect there was a reason to why your clothes kept going missing. Something linked to beautifully woven and beaded na'vi-style clothes Aonung had promised to make you, something linked to the massive Aonung-sized footprints in the dirt outside your house, something linked to the familiar amber-seasalt scent that lingered in your closet.

First, it was your largest clothing. That massive jumper was the first to go, and Spider had just laughed uproariously when you told him it was missing. Then it was the baggy pants. Then the long skirts and flowy t-shirts.

The more clothes started going missing, the more you started to suspect. When you opened your closet one day after returning from the healing marui, you realized just how much had started to "disappear".

All that was finally left was your cargo shorts and tank you were wearing. You scowled, wondering what on earth were your clothes being used for, and where had they been hidden, when a glittering caught the corner of you eye, and you gasped.

You hadn't missed Aonung's remarks over the past few days of how amazing you'd look in na'vi clothes, but Eywa, you would have never imagined your simple, pretty, dumb man to be able to pull off something so devious and beautiful and well... clever.

Gingerly, you reached out into your closet to pull out the most beautiful top you'd ever seen in your life.It was intricately woven with hands you knew only too well. And you trusted them too.

The next day, gazes followed you throughout the village; eyes practically popping out of their sockets at the sight of you in the na'vi clothes Aonung had made. Sure, the coverage of the top was minimal, but the weaving and beading hugged your curves tightly, and the larger breasts you possessed drew attention from everyone alike.

All your patients in the healing hut stared shamelessly, the girls gushing with compliments, the guys quiet, no doubt knowing the wrong move would end up with them back here again after Aonung beat the absolute living shit out of them.

When the day finally ended and Aonung came into the healing hut, he just stopped. And stared.

"Do you like it?" you asked nervously. "They're beautiful, Aonung."

"Paksalin," he whispers, dumping the irrelevant shit he had been carrying and striding over to you. "You look beautiful."

You beam at him.

"You kept your promise," you whisper, moving over to touch his face.

 

"Of course yawne," he smiles. "I could not disappoint my tunutu."

His.

You smile back, moving to pull your big stupid hunk into a gentle kiss. Eywa truly did bless you with him.

This is better than anything you could have dreamed of. Better than you had ever even hoped after you slept with him for the first time. Because you are absolutely each others. Now and forever.

My little desire.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hiya sex witch

Hope ur having a good one!

I have a sexual health question. Im 28yo M and am as far as i am aware overall healthy, but sometimes i have trouble orgasming during sex, but rarely during masturbation. Im aware that contrary to popular belief men dont always orgasm 100% of the time and that there is nothing wrong with having difficulty with "keeping it up" so long as its not health related (i dont usually have difficulty with this part specifically, i just feel from experience that some times this is forgotten among people so i wanted to mention that)

I enjoy sex with my partners and im mentally very in the mood for it! Im not really nervous and havent felt pressured with them but some times it takes a very long time for me to finish, like more that 1.5 hours and up to 2 or 3 one time, and understandably my partners dont usually want to go that long lol i also find it frustrating because i feel the need around the 30-40minute mark but like i dont get that final push if that makes sense?

I did online searching and most answers are kinda wishy washy about causes other than excess masturbation, ive cut down on masturbation because alot of places say that that can be a cause but i only masturbated like once or twice a week and now im down to twice a month but it still happens.

Ive also heard that a too tight circumcision can lead to desensitisation and is what im kinda thinking this might be, i was circumcised at birth and have what the forskin restoration website ( www.restoringforeskin.org ) says is a RCI-0 or maybe RCI-1 which are considered super tight or tight respectively, both of which can lead to lack of sensation. And am considering maybe working on restoring my foreskin due to this, but i wanted your opinion on how like legit this all is considering it kinda sounds idk farfetched to me? Like being able to just stretch the skin back out with tape, is that even a thing? And does this sound like a possible cause?

Thanks for all your hard (no joke intended)'work and ur also awsome!

P.S. tumblr is being fucky on my phone all the time so if this is not anonymous please ignore/dm me to say make it anonymous again or whatever tanks

hi anon,

thank you so much for your question! it sounds like you've put a lot of thought into it already, and it was very interesting to read.

I have some hesitation in declaring that something is physically the matter with your penis, mainly because you mention that orgasm tends to come at a much more typical speed when you're masturbating. in the case of a physical problem I'd usually expect to see similar results whether you were having sex solo or partnered, which to me suggested it might be more of a mental/emotional blockage here?

but, having said that: I'm not a healthcare provider! and it sounds like a visit with one to discuss your observations might be really beneficial at this point.

while foreskin restoration is a thing, it's also a thing that doesn't have much research backing it up, and long-term results aren't very well known. consulting with a urologist before attempting a restoration sounds like it would be a great idea for you, as they could help confirm whether your foreskin is the problem and advise you on safely practicing restoration if it's an appropriate treatment. or, if that isn't the case, they're likely to have a much better idea about what else might be causing your situation.

best of luck!

[ghostieyanyan]

Yandere! Kalim x reader, but yandere but they're bad at their jobs au. Like one minute Kalim act all sadistic and dark then the next thing when reader asked if he wants some pets he went to his usual happy sunshine puppy that demands pets

yes~~ presious baby boi just wants love but he so spoil x3

what i also like to think about with yandere kalim is that he knows right and wrong but its so water down for him that "he just cant help it ^^

For fun, im making this into a modern mafia au ^^

~Just trying to help~

Yan!Boss!Kalim x Worker!mc

Warnings: power dymanmic, mafia mention, violence mention, nsfw hints, death?, manipulation

~~~~~

The Asim, they are known for their wealth and their trades. They're a super big powerful family with a lot of people (both loyal and not loyal) under them. They kind of give "untouchable kings" vibes. Theyre still really nice to their "people", you just don't see them a lot, or at all really. The only way to really "talk to them" is by talking to someone in their circle but there are layers into that circle. some people thinks that their family is shady, like the rich people act is a persona to hide something but no one really has proof.

But you really don't have to worry about that. You have your own stuff to worry about, like living expenses. You were basically living on the streets, barely living. You did side jobs to get by. maybe you'll clean or maybe you'll babysit. when you were a kid, you always wanted to help people. But with your home life, money, you couldn't really get to your dreams even if you tried. you stopped school pretty early and its a little too late for you to get back into it. plus what school will accept you. you lived in a community where rich gets richer and medium class becomes poor... I guess that's where you are, what your luck...

you were heading to your next "job" place. you had to clean for a really sweet old couple, the Wrights. They couldn't afford much either but they try to help you whenever they can. Example, you clean places that they cant reach, in exchange they give you dinner, as much as they can. you always wish them good health. they are too sweet for this unfair world.

you were lost in your head, enjoying the memories and conversation you had with them. But when you to their place, you see 3 grown men towering over Mr. Wright.

"please understand.. we aren't here for trouble but your son does owe us some money. were just here to collect."

"please.. we havent seen our son in months. hes not here."

"come on, blue carb! i wanna go home! if you dont tell us-"

"Floyd, we aren't here for threats."

"hmm..? oh my... what do we have here?"

the light hair man turn to you with a very scary smile. You didnt have time to take even a step when one of the men grabs you by the arm. he had teal hair with a black stirp. he had awful smile that showed off his sharp teeth.. the smile looked every threatening..

"were just here to talk about business, why dont you scram shrimpy."

you started to tremble and turned to Mr. Wright. he gave you a weak smile and moved his hand like to shoo you away.

"go on dear. it'll be okay."

you gulped in terror but you dug your heels into the ground. if you didn't, who knew what these shady guys would do to this kind old couple.

"h-he.. said he hasn't seen his son! n-ow get out of here before i call the police!!"

"..."

".."

"..."

everyone got quiet.. no one moved.. the men seem stun by your outburst. the man, that was holding you, didn't seem to like your outburst and gripped your arm, harder. it hurts..!

"tck.. im getting really annoyed, shrimpy... Should break your arm to show you-"

"actually Floyd, i have a better idea."

the light hair man walks up to you and hands you a card.

"i am Azul Ashengrotto. i run a cafe called the Mostro Lounge and Mr. Wright's son has owe us a pretty penny~"

The way he spoke gave you chills. You hated it. it was too sweet when you knew that the words he spoke are laced with poison.

"What if-..."

You had to take a long deep breath, you're risking a lot for even thinking this... but you had to. you were the only able person to protected these people who gave you more than you've asked.

"what if... i worked for you..? i'll work for you, pay off the owe money and you'll have to leave Mr. and Mrs. Wright alone! Deal..?"

the light hair man pauses.. then smiled. he put his hand out for a handshake.

"Its a Deal."

when you took his hand, that was it. you had to say goodbye to your home away from home. you gave mr.wright a smile and left with the strange men...

~~~

the next few weeks you learned what they did, kind of, and what they needed of you. they didn't tell you 100% of everything but you were supposed to be their servant, or an errand boy, or something like that?

the job wasn't bad at all. you cleaned, get anything they need, run things for them. sometimes they call you for... personal reasons. In exchange you get 3 meals a day and a comfortable room. which honestly, you weren't complaining. before, you would have one meal a day and even sleep on either a hard floor or a gross mattress. At this rate, after you finish paying off the Wright's debt, you might just stay here.

sometimes the job brings pretty scary people that show up out of nowhere. they often had big weapons to their side, some would have the weapons ready and loaded. Jade, Floyd, or Azul often gets you out of the way and most times tell you to cover your ears and close your eyes. sometimes they have you clean up their messes after these scary men... "leave." you knew better but you cant really say or do anything about it so.. you just don't question it.

after a month, you thought you get used to your new home life now but- you accidentally ran into someone or someone ran into you.

"oh my-! are you okay? im so sorry!! i-"

"no no! its okay. i should have been more careful."

the mysterious man helped you up. he had bright red eyes and white white that complement his dark skin every nicely. he had a black dress shirt and a red suit with gold accents, red dress pants to match. when he helped you up, you notice he's hands are really soft. big contrast to your hands.

"I'm sorry again."

he was about to run away but stopped and sheepishly turn and smile at you. it kind of reminded you of a happy teenage.

"actually... do you know where the Mostro lounge is? i... i think im lost. hehe." he scratched the back of his head. the embrassement on his face was slowly growing on you because he kept smiling.

it was kinda weird to see someone around here with such a bright smile..? like an genuine smile or maybe hes just a good actor or something..? you cant say.

"oh.. its a left then a right." you poked.

"kk! thank you~"

he turned and ran away again. you were about to leave but he stopped you again.

"can you actually walk with me there..? i asked directions before and got lost.. hehe~ pretty please?"

with his charming smile, you couldnt help but smile back.

"okay, follow me."

during your walk there, he asked a few question. they were harmless questions, enough. favorite colors? favorite food? favorite animals? where have you been? favorite places to go? etc.

when you got there a tall man with dark skin and long beautiful black hair rushed to your side, well more like to the other man.

He had the same outfit as the white hair man but they both wore it differently. which wasnt a bad thing. it compliment their personalities. Like jade, floyd, and azul do with their suits too.

"Kalim! where have you been?! we just left the elavoter and you were gone from my sights?! why did you-?"

"oh ya! i saw this pretty ocean theme pillows and i wanted to get some but you had my wallet hehe~ so... can i get them? they be perfect for-!"

"no. ugh..."

you felt really uncomfortable... it was like a mother scolding her kid... the black hair man looked at you. you shifted your feet uncomfortably.

"who are you? i dont remember you from our last visit?"

you raise your hands up and backed up slightly. people here are either very suspicious, they often come to see azul for his deals, or naive soul, that came for the ocean-like atmosphere.

"im just a-"

two arms snaked around you. you started to freak out. this is how you die--!!!

"shrimpy!! where's my drink~~? ive asked it for about... like 10 minutes ago~~~"

Oh! its just Floyd. he practicely moaned in your ear. it was a lot to get used to Floyd's mood swings. but you learn to avoid him when hes upset or just do want he says and not say too much. if he tries to tease you, he often gets bored and wonders to do who knows what.

"oh! hi sea snake! hi sea otter!"

"Floyd.. for the last time, stop calling us-

"hi Floyd!! haha!"

the white hair man jumped up and join the hug! you were getting crushed between these two... you were patting their backs in a way to say "okay thank you but-- that enough..!!! im dying! let me go!"

"jamil! Kalim! its great that you made it! a bit late but- i cant say im suprised."

"tsk.. hello jade... azul..."

the dark hair man, pulled the white hair man off you. it helped but Floyd is still squeezing you like he was trying to kill you, not literally... hopefully.

"ah.. its seems that you met our new hire. Jamil, Kalim, this is (mc)."

you, trying your best with the situation youre in with floyd right now, bowed your head as jade introduced you.

"hehe. we found shrimpy when we were at the Wright's place."

"did you get the money..?"

"no~ they were being stubborn but (mc) offer to pay off the money that was owed so i cant complain too much."

azul spoke and rubbed your head like a kid. you didnt like how they were talking about you like you werent there. or rather, talking about the Wrights like they were bad.. but you held your tongue. you didnt want to get them mad... especially when floyd is still holding you.

"ohh.. poor (mc). dont worry, well protect you from those mean people. im kalim, Kalim al-asim!"

"Kalim!"

"and thats jamil, Jamil Viper."

"Kalim! dont give our names to strangers! you dont even know them-"

"Well then~ we'll just have to just spend time with them!"

Kalim.. Kalim al-asim.... an Al-Asim.. Al-Asim! This smiling ray of sunlight is an Asim??

apparently your face paled because Kalim reached for your face and held your face into his hands. he gave you a giggle and smiled as he massage your cheeks in his hands.

"hehe youre so cute. after our meeting with Azul, i want to hangout with you on your break. when is it? hmm?"

you turned to Azul, he nodded his head in approval.

"i-its.. its in 2 hours from now.. sir.."

"hehe.. no need to talk so formal. just call me Kalim. And okay, on your break, meet me by the front door of the Mostro lounge, kk?

"y-yes.. kalim.."

he gave you a smile and all the 5 men started to head to Azul VIP room..

what did you get yourself into....

~~~

You've been spending a lot of your time with kalim as of late. To the point where you felt guilty for leaving work.. but you'd feel more guilty for saying no to kalim. You tried once. It was one too many.

You initially wanted to keep some distance. But with kalim's smile and charisma, you couldn't say no. Kalim always found a way to have lots of fun and he will always include you too.

Every time you came back to the Mostro lounge, floyd gives you a stink eye and a "why wasn't i invited~?" whine. Jade gives you his creepy smile and does a weird thing by leaning in and asking "did anything exciting happened~?", whatever that means. Azul doesn't seem upset at all. It made you anxious. Is he marking down your pay when you're out with kalim..? You checked your accounts and you were still getting payed for your work but.. you didn't do any work..?

You decide to talk to azul about it. You didn't want something like this be in the air, with someone as slimy as azul.. and with money no least!!

You knocked.

"Um.. azul..? Are you busy?"

You peeked through the door of Azul's office, and they vip room.

"... no. What do you need..?

he was working on some papers and he looked.. unpleased.

"I.. ill ask later."

You tried to take your leave befor-

"You wanted to ask about your pay..?"

You slowly turn to him. His face hasn't changed from that unpleased expression.

"Y-yes sir.."

Azul sighed, lend back into his chair, took off his glasses and rubbed his face as he let's out another sigh.

"Kalim is... renting you."

What..?

"And he also requested for you to still get payed because, his words.. 'they're still working.'"

He started to stare at you. You didn't think he meant it to look intimidating, because he can't see you, he doesnt have his glasses on. But it still was very unpleasant.

You were at lost of words. Kalim al-asim... is renting you..? You weren't mad but you weren't happy too. Spending time with kalim is really fun and his personality is really refreshing. But being told you were 'rented out' feels.. dehumanizing. But with your life, you can really feel anything else..

"Is that all..?"

"Yes sir.."

"Good, you may leave."

You bowed your head and left, making sure to close the door softly behind you.

What do you do now..?

~~~

Now after every visit from kalim, the moment becomes a little sour. He's paying azul to spent time with you, but why? He's an al-asim. He could get anything he wants right? Why would he spend time with a common rat like you..?

What are you to him?

"(Mc)? You okay?"

You looked up and kalim was really close to you! You jolted and lean back

"I-im okay! Its just.. work. Heh.. work just be exhausting and im just.. I'm okay!"

You smiles, you didn't notice that kalim stopped smiling.. he was still looking at you but just not smiles. it would have scared you to your core if it wasnt for you trying to change the topic by looking at the scenery. A minute past and his smile came back, brighter.

"Why don't you come with me then?"

"huh..?"

"You could live in the al-asim estate and you don't have to lift the finger! Serverts will come to your every beckon call and you get to live.. like an Asim."

As you were staring at him, lost of words, he gently took your hand. You didnt even noticed it until he pulled your hands to his lips and kissed it.

"K-kalim! I-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he stood in front of you and got on one knee.

You felt sick

"(Mc)... "

You felt dizzy

"Will you-"

This has to be a dream!!!

"Be mine?"

He sweet innocent smile made you feel sick. How can can someone so dangerous be so naive?!? You bearly knew him! He bears knew you!!

"I.. i-i have to go!!"

You ran off, back to Mostro Lounge, back to your room, leaving a sad otter left on one knee..

~~~

You were in your room for 3 days..

You weren't payed for those days but you didnt care..

You felt sick and a little guilty. Kalim looked so sad when you left him. Maybe when you see him again... you could apologize and explain yourself..? By the seven! Would he still be mad at you? Will he order for you to be erased??

You felt nausea.

You needed to get some water.

Luckily it was night time, you wouldn't likely run into floyd, jade, or azul.. maybe?

You walked through the dark halls, only using your memories and the walls to guide you.

You were lost in thought and didn't realize a figure coming up behind you. By the time you did noticed, the figure quickly over powered you and you were imbraced into darkness.

~~~~

[Before the proposal]

"Azul!!? how much does the Wrights owe!?"

Kalim bursted into Azul's office, with a tired Jamil following behind.

"ah! K-Kalim! you know you have to make an ap-"

"i know i know! this is important though!!"

Kalim rushes up to Azul's desk, slamming his hands down on to the desk and leaned over to Azul. he was like a jumping dog..

"i want to ask (mc) to marry me!!"

everyone froze and even jade and Floyd, they were walking by, looked at Kalim like he was crazy.

"Kalim! I know your father has told you about being an Al-Asim and your responsibility to your family and making an hair but not like this!!"

"come on, Jamil~ they're perfect~ they're sweet and kind. they're responsible and hard working, like father wanted. they're just... perfect!"

Kalim goes through his phone and looks at pictures of you he took when you hanging out with him and even ones he requested from Jade and Floyd, secret cameras. They vary between you working and you when you think youre alone...

Azul rubs his face and gives a long sigh.

"look kalim. Even if your display of affection is definitely... something... (mc) is still working the Wrights' debt off. if they're not here then-"

"oh! that's another amazing thing about them! they were willing to help the Wrights without even knowing what they were getting themselves into. with the amount of debt the Wrights have, (mc) would be working until they're in their 70s. Thats why i need to protect them, do they even know about the Wrights 'situation'?"

Floyd lays on the couch in the VIP room, with candy in his mouth.

"nope! Jade thought it would help (mc) stay motivated to work. you saw how upset they got whenever we talk about the Wrights. they're so cute but so obedient that they don't even asked what they did to get in their situation, HAHA! silly shrimpy~!"

Floyd laughs and Jade chimes in.

"To be fair, we did get them out of a 'dangerous situation'. what the Wrights were doing to them was shameful.. Saying their debt was all because of their son, who has been dead for 10 years, and saying they dont have money but is found actively going to clubs spending more. the fact that they're living in the poorest town, and looking like weak old people. they're fooling everyone with the act. Everyone, including (mc)~"

Jamil turned and glared at Azul.

"wait-.. you didn't even tell them..? and you kept them working here?"

"think whatever Jamil, someone has to pay the debt off."

"i can pay it!"

Kalim looks at Azul, he was giving a determined look. Azul sighs again, why is everyone in his office. He has too much work to do.

"i know you can but you know-"

"in exchange, give me (mc)."

Jamil was about to stop Kalim but-

"(mc), yes, they work here under false pretenses but they have became a big asset to us. if you were to take them, it will take a long time to replace them."

Kalim walks closer to azul. with his serious expression, to say left everyone on edge was an understatement.

"i will pay 3x the Wrights' debt... as long as i get (mc)."

Azul looks at Kalim and a sick smile appears. He held out his hand.

"Its a Deal."

~~~~

This took so long! but i did it! i hope you guys enjoy it. if you guys like me to draw something for this, just ask, until then, back into my wips qwq

[venomhoundfanworks]

Hazbin Hotel - Handkerchief Headcanons

The rat in my brain was overclocking on its wheel about the Hazbin guys and their potential handkerchiefs after watching some historical romance. Then I had the existential realization that I am probably the singular cancerous overlap between Hazbin Hotel and actual historical fiction. So I have to do these myself I guess. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(also huge thanks to @heart-of-the-morningstar for beta reading the Lucifer section; I love you boo-boo, MWUAH)

My other work can be found on my masterlist >>HERE<<

Hyperfixated rant pretending to be a history lesson and headcanons below the cut -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

*gently taps pointer on desk then smashes it against whiteboard*

HERE IS A HISTORY LESSON FOR YOU NERDS ABOUT HANDKERCHIEFS AND HANDKERCHIEF FLIRTING.

First off, I need to say I AM NOT talking about the Handkerchief Code. This is a form of LGBTQ+ signaling that many falsely say started in the 1970s (thats just when it first became 'mainstream', its much MUCH older then that).

Handkerchiefs have been used for flirting for literal centuries. There is so much history to them that I cannot possibly hope to cover. The Victorians even had an entire body language system dedicated to them. These are basically just historical highlights or things specifically related to this post.

Alright. So before the 1960s (when handkerchiefs finally went out of style) EVERYONE had one. Disposable tissues weren't even invented until 1924!

Needless to say, pre 1920s, open flirting (especially by a woman) was frowned upon. So handkerchiefs became a main method of doing so.

Im sure yall have seen the infamous 'lady dropping her handkerchief in front of a guy she likes' move in movies or tv. This is because a woman used to not be allowed to talk to a man she was not introduced to first. So by dropping her handkerchief in front of a guy she wants to talk to, this gives the guy an opening to pick up the handkerchief, give it back to her, and introduce himself. Thereby making them acquainted.

Because everyone had a goddamn handkerchief, if a woman is crying, as a man, you would only offer her your own handkerchief if your courting her, her lover, or actually related to her. Otherwise you would just say 'dry your tears' because she got her own stupid handkerchief. If you were none of those things and still gave a woman your handkerchief, WOOF, that was forward of you. You just did the Victorian equivalent of an unsolicited dick pic.

Lovers would often exchange handkerchiefs as tokens. Usually with their names or initials embroidered on the handkerchief. Men would openly wear these, usually tucked into a pocket or hat brim, with the initials showing as a way of bragging about their lady.

Although there are stories of womanizers who would have entire hat brims stuffed with a rainbow of handkerchiefs as a way of bragging about their conquests (and all the broken hearts they left behind).

Friends would also sometimes exchange handkerchiefs but this was really only in specific circumstances and I don't want to get into the weeds on that. Just keep in mind that it CAN be a friendship thing too.

Also for long distance couples (or just general weirdos) it was common for them to send their lovers a handkerchief scented with their perfume/cologne.

Im only telling you this fact because there is a really funny story about Elizabeth the first. She attended a tennis match between two men who were attempting to court her (pun not intended). In the middle of the match, one of the men walked over to Elizabeth, asked for her handkerchief, and used it to wipe the sweat from his face (scenting it). The other man was so offended by this action that he fucking jumped the first guy and a fistfight ensued. When the second guy was asked why he attacked the first, he said the handkerchief wipe was 'too saucy'. I cackle every time I think about this.

ALRIGHT. Now the history lesson is over and you have a general idea of handkerchief flirting. In my unprofessional opinion, the Hazbin guys who carry around handkerchiefs are; Alastor, Sir Pentious, Vox, and Lucifer (technically)

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Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

I say technically Lucifer because he has a really bad habit of just forgetting about it or leaving it in random places. Guy will reach in his pocket for it, realize its not there, and be like 'oh no NOT AGAIN'.

He has a stash of them in his room and workshop. He also will carry around like two or three of them when he goes out because he KNOWS he is gonna lose at least one of them.

Lucifer's handkerchief is super fancy. Its made out of pure red silk (he likes the texture), with fancy white lace edges. A giant Morningstar family crest is embroidered in the center in golden thread.

I headcanon that Lucifer has always been a shut in and rarely, if ever, goes out. But when he does, this guy is super gracious with his handkerchiefs (he does carry around several after all!). Like, to the point its an actual problem.

Lucifer will see a girl crying and offer her his handkerchief without a second thought. Goes right over his head that its a little weird to give your handkerchief to a stranger and extremely flirty to give it to someone at all.

Has 100% started fights or accidentally made people fall for him because he didn't realize the message he was sending. I also just generally headcanon that shit like this (Lucifer being a social dumbass) is a big reason he hates Sinners.

An example: from Lucifer's POV, a guy just randomly started attacking him for comforting a lady; when from the guy's POV, Lucifer, the King of Hell, just came onto his guy's wife when she was emotionally vulnerable. But Lucifer being an idiot is another post >.<

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Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Although he was at the tail end of the handkerchief times; Vox still has one personally and sees it as a sign of being a proper gentleman. Or at least he says thats why he has one...

Vox normally keeps it hidden on the inside of his suit jacket though because he doesn't want to deal with random people asking about it or trying to get it. The other two Vees aren't exactly pleasant about it either.

Valentino constantly tries to steal it as a joke, he will 100% start waving it at Vox like a maiden sending their beloved off to war while playing keep away with it (Valentino says stupid shit while doing this too; like "Oh my beloved Vox! You've come to save me from this wretched boredom that has befallen me!"). Of course this is when Valentino isn't using it as a towel to clean up messes of various bodily fluids and nebulous origin that is. (Vox has opted to burn multiple handkerchiefs due to this)

Velvette just thinks its the funniest thing and makes fun of Vox so hard when she sees it. Who carries around handkerchiefs anymore? Isnt that unsanitary? What does a computer need a handkerchief for anyway? Does he sniff it or something? She will not let up.

So yeah, hidden in the pocket it goes. Honestly, Vox will only take it out if you two have become good friends or he has a major crush on you. Otherwise he will just throw a tissuebox at you.

But no matter if you two are platonic or romantic, if you accept his handkerchief and keep it, Vox is guaranteed to stutter and glitch a bit. The fact that you didn't make fun of him and actually want to keep a personalized item from his time just gives him butterflies.

For how flashy the Vees tend to be, your surprised Vox has such a pleasingly monochrome handkerchief. Its a beautiful azure blue with his Voxtech symbol embroidered in the corner in a dark cobalt. Made of pure cotton for optimal handkerchief efficiency because of course it is.

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Sir Pentious ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Highkey one of the first germaphobes. Due to, you know, being alive in the time of plague and all.

Like Lucifer, he has a million handkerchiefs. But in Sir Pentious' case, its because he can't help but be polite and give one to his friends when they are sick or crying... and then burn/destroy them right after if they give it back.

Sir Pentious actually has two sets of handkerchiefs. The main ones are simple handkerchiefs made out of patterned cotton-blend fabric. That way they can be mass produced by the Egg Bois and still look nice. These are the ones he carries several sets of and gives out freely.

Be warned: sometimes the Egg Bois like to put their own names on them for fun. So you may end up with a relatively nice red and black plaid handkerchief with a very poorly embroidered 'STANLY' on it in neon green.

The other handkerchief type is his actual personal one. Its black and yellow striped with Sir Pentious' full name embordered along the bottom in a light gray. With how nice the embroidery is, you figure he must have done it himself.

Like I implied before, Sir Pentious is very protective of his handkerchief and doesn't give it to anyone. He normally just gives them his throwaway ones because he is afraid of germs and getting sick.

One of the first ways Sir Pentious tried to show Cherri Bomb his interest was offering his actual handkerchief to her. It was a super big deal to him. Cherri, not understanding the significance/meaning of the gesture, proceeded to blow her nose in it and give it right back.

Needless to say, the Egg Bois were quick to set fire to it

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Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Alastor has a handkerchief. But he wont offer it to you. Nope. Not ever. Not as a flirting gesture, not even as a friend. Your not getting it.

There is a reason for this though; its because Alastor technically doesn't carry his own handkerchief. He actually carries around the handkerchief belonging to his late mother.

The handkerchief is practically ancient at this point. The just sheer amount of washing and general use it has gone through has worn nearly all color away from it. Most people falsely believe it to be a classic, white handkerchief. But when the light hits it right you can see hints of the vibrant color it once had.

Alastor's mother's initials are also hand embroidered in the corner. Since Rosie is the only one privy to the actual origin of the handkerchief; usually people falsely assume it to be a token from a lover and a sign that Alastor is already taken.

Alastor actually loves this because it helps ward off unwanted advances. He will totally pull it out and fake wipe his face with it as a subtle way to tell a lady to back off him.

He is super protective of it and delicately hand washes it himself. Alastor wont even let Niffty touch the thing. You get the feeling that it serves as some kind of weird security blanket for the stag.

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AN: This took wayyy longer to release then I meant it to because its the first writing thing Ive put on here and Im anxious about it aaahhh. Ive reread it like 12 times and I still guarantee I missed things OH WELL

[dedalvs]

ive done a lot of translating to high valyrian in my day and id like to think im pretty good at it sometimes (the way ive spent literal hours researching how just one piece of grammar works to change a noun to an adverb or something is maybe insane)

anyway all that to say i usually know what to look for and how to apply it, but i am struggling with this new bit im trying to translate. “i disdain all glittering gold.”

ive replaced disdain with hate cause there doesnt seem to be a word for disdain in valyrian and hate is the closest approximation. same with glittering — replaced that with shine, and had to manually transform that to an adjective (jehikagon -> jehikere? dunno if its right)

so what i have now is “nyke buqan unir jehikere aeksion”

(im not as concerned with getting the word order right as i am with the rest of the grammar)

ive learned from a previous answer “nyke” is potentially (probably) unnecessary here, so that leaves it as “buqan unir jehikere aeksion,” but the unir there in the middle kinda makes it feel off and im not sure if maybe that also needs to be part of a compound word like valar or how to make it one if so because idk what part of valar is all and what part is men and how to fit aeksion into that equation.

i lost track of what my question was originally meant to be but i guess im wondering if im on the right track and if theres some guidance you may have to get me all the way there.

thank you for your time 🙏

Uhhhhhh... Not to be that dude, but...maybe be more concerned with that...?

I'm not sure if you know about this site, but my wiki is exhaustively updated with respect to High Valyrian, specifically. There's a team of people that work on High Valyrian and it's massive. For example, you could go to the entry for jehikagon and see that jehikere is wrong: it should be jehikare. And, of course, it has to agree with āeksion (note the long ā), so it should be jehikarior. To get the sense of repetitiveness (with "glittering"), you might add ā- to the front, so ājehikarior.

Now for "all", why not use the collective? This is how you get "All men must die", so it should work for "I distain all glittering gold". That would be āeksior. Of course, it would need to be in the accusative, so altogether it would be ājehikarior āeksȳndi. By adding the repetitive you kind of get the aliteration, too, since they both begin with ā.

Finally you have "disdain", for which buqagon serves. Aside from sound a little more posh, the difference between "disdain" and "hate" in English seems to be one of duration. The words "disdain" and "loathe" seem to emphasize that this is a character trait rather than a reaction. If you disdain something, you've given it some thought, have experience with it, and may use this as a way of describing or characterizing yourself. You can do this with "hate" as well, but it's a much more common word, and so can be used in other more basic ways, whereas "disdain" and "loathe" tend to only have specalized uses. To try to approximate this, you could use the frequentative with buqagon to imply a lengthy duration. That would give you jobuqan "I disdain". In fact, you could even use the aorist if you really wanted to imply that it was a description of yourself, i.e. jobuqin.

Now that you have the pieces, though, I really hate to say it, but the words must be in the right order. I mean, you can change the order of the noun and adjective, if you'd like, but you simply cannot put the verb first and think you've created a Valyrian sentence. It's not just "kind of" wrong: it's completely wrong. It'd be like suggesting "I him saw" is close enough in English because the forms are correct. It's not. It's wrong. This is not a minor part of the grammar you can ignore. High Valyrian is aggressively verb-final. The verb must be at the end.

All in all, that gives you:

Ājehikarior āeksȳndi jobuqin.

Hope that helps!

[melrosing]

a while back you mentioned bran being a fisher king type of figure if he becomes king. i am so intrigued by that concept. can you tell us more?

so full disclosure, I don't have a great deal of familiarity with Arthurian legend or British/Welsh mythology, which is what the Fisher King really draws upon, so I don't think I can say anything of real substance on this subject! i keep meaning to just sit down and swot up on this stuff but it's. not really something you can do in one sitting lol

HOWEVER i think even to a wiki peruser it's patently clear that GRRM is drawing on the Fisher King concept with Bran (as in, once you know he's doing that, you realise he isn't even trying to hide it). and I do tend to think that GRRM is more likely to stick with the top line of a myth or historical event he means to parallel rather than get lost in the minutiae - e.g. Matilda v Stephen succession crisis inspiring Rhaenyra v Aegon, the Black Dinner of 1440 inspiring the Red Wedding, this is GRRM taking the substance of an event but not the details of how it came to pass.

I'm going to guess that rather than getting into the finer details of the Fisher King mythos, GRRM is going to utilise it much like he's used Shakespeare's Richard III for Tyrion, which is another inspiration that seems painfully obvious from the moment you spot it, but is hardly lifted beat for beat, and I seriously doubt that Tyrion's story ends up anywhere like the end of RIII. but you can see GRRM taking the bits and pieces of RIII he finds interesting and twisting them for Tyrion in ASOIAF.

so with that in mind, I'm just going to quickly list the key points I can personally gather from the Fisher King myth that seem to gesture to Bran, and why I think these are probs interesting to GRRM as a writer (but as I say there are people who know lots about arthurian legend and british/welsh mythology who would probs have a lot more to say here):

the Fisher King is usually depicted as being wounded in the groin/legs/thigh - this is considered synonymous with his inability to have children and so propagate his line. immediately obvious parallel to Bran, and I think through both ASOIAF and F&B, GRRM is trying to show that ruling through dynasties where everything hinges on how the next guy's son turns out, is not a viable way to run a country. Bran will not be succeeded by children of his own blood, but I think much in the way that he himself has succeeded Bloodraven

the Fisher King is one with his land as such: his welfare is the welfare of the land, and when he takes a wound (and becomes infertile), the land too becomes barren. the Fisher King awaits a hero who will heal and restore him and so the land (but I can only imagine GRRM would subvert this - it's clear through GRRM's writing of disability that he doesn't see value in just 'curing' his characters. he wants to actually write them as disabled people). and I think there's a lot in Bran's story about man learning to respect the land he lives upon - the children and the first men's peace pact was agreed upon the grounds that the first men would essentially preserve Westeros and its weirwoods etc, and so I think it's generally agreed ASOIAF could end with a similar kind of pact to end the Long Night (or after the end of TLN)? so again, think this point is about Bran representing a renewed relationship between the lands of Westeros and its peoples - the welfare of all is tied together through him

the Fisher King is guarding the Holy Grail. im way out of my depth on this point, someone with more knowledge re. the Holy Grail needs to weigh in here lol, but I would guessssss that maybe this has something to do with Bran ending the story on the Isle of Faces, protecting the peace from there or SOMETHING idk

then the most obvious point: the Fisher King as he appears in Arthurian legend is thought to draw on the figure of Brân the Blessed, a character of Welsh mythology - which immediately recalls Bran the Broken (something Bran literally calls himself several times). the name 'Bran' also translates to crow or raven in Welsh, so, duh. and Brân the Blessed's story ends with his requesting that his head be buried on the White Hill of London - and as long as it remained there, Britain would be safe from invasion. more about Bran being tied directly to the welfare of the land and its peoples

(again there's doubtless a lot more that could be added here by someone who understands the Fisher King myth better than I do, but these seemed like the most obvious points that anyone could draw on)

anyway I absolutely take it as a given that Bran will be King at this point, and whilst it's really hard to imagine what that looks like, I do think it resonates. GRRM likes writing about dynasties but I don't think he believes in them. I'm sure he feels much the same way about feudalism, but I doubt that will be gone by the end of ASOIAF, too, so this is how I picture it??

KL: destroyed. red keep: fucked. some level of politics may continue here post-series, but I think it will no longer be the heart of westeros. the fact that it is in AGOT is I think GRRM trying to show the corruption at the heart of this country - KL is constantly described as a cesspit where the rich play their games and live and eat luxuriously directly atop the shoulders of the poor and downtrodden, divorced from what's happening in the rest of the 7K.

the new heart of Westeros will be the Isle of Faces. this is where I think Bran will end up. we don't know much about it, bc noone is able to sail there, but this was where the pact between the COF and the First Men was created, and it's one of the last places in the south where weirwoods still grow (here, in abundance). and apparently there was once a Green King of the Gods Eye?? if the Green King, of the Rivermen, is in any way the role Bran will soon be occupying, maybe this is where his Tully heritage is somehow relevant. and also like 'god's eye', Bran's whole thing is about learning to see all, so. likely place for him to be. ultimately, I don't think Bran will remain in Winterfell; the story is supposed to be about unity I think, and not northern exceptionalism, so a remaining Stark sibling will take up that seat and as I said before, I tend to think that will be Sansa.

and I guess the most I can imagine beyond this point is Bran living alongside the COF (perhaps in the company of Meera idk?), functioning less as a political entity and more as a figurehead, perhaps an oracle, who lives for the welfare of his people. there will still be politicians to run the country, but they will be guided by Bran in some way, and like Bloodraven, Bran will choose his own successor. what the intricacies of any of this look like i have no idea, but this really does sound to me like the start of GRRM's answer to all his concerns re. dynasties and corruption etc etc

sorry this was all garbled as hell but this is basically what the Fisher King endgame means to me for now. in short, not a whole lot that I can make sense of but I like the feel of it, I think it's consistent with the themes of the text and suggests the start of real change at the end of the story, rather than the start of yet another dynasty.

[sakiyaki-sashimi]

Heeeeeeello hello hello! I just realized that a lot of ppl have some sort of intro pinned post but I do not! LETS RECTIFY THIS >:D

(Btw I’m highlighting important info for ppl that need/like to skim!!)

My name is Sakki! I don’t use these names much anymore but you might see Enoki or Sai used too!

“sakis zatsudan” is a tag I use for text posts and just kinda whatever I want? But it’s (usually) not for fandom stuff! (IM SO LIBERAL WITH IT ITS CRAZY)

I 👏 am 👏 not 👏 an 👏 adult :D keep that in mind plzzzzz

My pronouns are she/her but also idk just like do whatever you want? Men are cool, enbys are hot, and genderfluid ppl are the sickest fucks alive so I’d be honored to be one frfr btw I am pansexual also!

I draw and talk about stuff I like (mostly fandom stuff) as well as chilling with my muts! (Become one??? :D)

If I mention I’m gonna make a side blog, don’t expect it to last XD it never does XDD (Except @i-draw-any-precure-ever)

I’d do a list of my fandoms, but that’s a lot so here’s a list of my mutuals!:

@milkfroggo @ponderous-ferret @transmascpetewentz @chaoscentral23 @eternalshiningstar @pastelcatnip-x3 @starfilledsky2810 @citrushomie @a-trench-coat-of-confused-worms @kneecoal-mooma @touratoura @leafy-mints @xx-ma11ory-xx @discarded-like-your-roses @spacingoutwards @drinks-battery-acid @prestonmonterey @losingobjectively @mitski-slope @pastelcatnip-x3 @insaneloligoth @mizuribbons @landmineloli @drunkwithoutalchohol @4thegays @thespoinkyspunge @wonderhello @kkat-astrophic @xmoonshardx @bon02 @loser-otaku-girll @stars-and-cows @porcelainguro @zon3dout @the-real-loser-otaku-girl @monkie-see-monkie-do @stormyfis @zennotixs @angelicfrill @ac1dic-angel @microwaved-meat @disguisedweasels @daily-kanamafu-vitamins @lanternsandlightmares @ell-es-dee @yume-chiyo @jiraigoddess @rinsheaven @tenshidere

Juuuuuuust one more thing before I go :D DNI iffff….

- You are a bigot in ANY way, shape, or form (homophobic/transphobic/racist/anti-religion/etc.)

- You are intending to look for a fight/comment negatively on my posts (looking at you, RWBY and TCOAAL fans..)

- You support genocide (can’t believe I even have to say this one :( )

That’s really it! I hope we can have some astounding vibes over hereee!!!

Happy scrolling :D

[supernaturalscribe67]

Unwarranted

Words: 4,983

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Team Free Will x Male!ExAngel!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Mention of past sexual harassment, sexual harassment, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: Humans are interesting and complex creatures, and ever since the reader lost his grace, he had to learn to become one. Luckily, he had his friends by his side to help him through his trials and tribulations. What happens when he's face-to-face with a human experience he never anticipated, and how will Team Free Will help him resolve his issue?

Request:

Hi! I hope you're having a good day/night. This request is very specific. I would write it myself, but im awful at it. I hope you don't mind, lol.

May you do (ex?)Angel!Male!reader x TFW (platonic obv). You can make it where Reader joined after the angels fell and was castiels past battle partner and was good friends with him, or something else if you'd like.

Reader lost his grace after a rogue angel took it from him. He has no idea how to be human and struggles a lot, even with the help of Dean, Sam, and Castiel. Anyways, to get to the point- Reader picked a pretty attractive vessel, so both men and women hit on him a lot when the group goes to diners or bars and most of the time Reader wanders off to explore since hes never really gone to earth before so the boys never notice, and he doesn't know how to react or what to do when they start to get touchy, only that he doesn't feel comfortable with it at all, but he thinks if he tells them to stop its a form of being rude, so he never says so. the person usually stops when they realize Reader isn't having the type of reaction they were looking for.

When Reader mentioned this to the boys randomly, they realized that Reader didn't know that it was bad that they were touching him and explained what it was, what to say, and do when that happens and comforts him when he finally cries as a human.

Anonymous

A/N: I am so sorry for going off the grid for a while! Honestly, keeping track of dates and time frames has not been my strong point, especially with everything going on with work. Luckily I'm almost done with another request as well and will have that up by this weekend! I hope this gives the request justice. As always, feedback is very much appreciated!

~ Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Humans are interesting and complex creatures, each with their own thoughts, wants, needs, and interests. When (Y/N) first joined Castiel on Earth two years prior, he was amazed by the array of personalities and emotions. No two people are alike, but, due to the vast differences, many of them can be categorized under three distinct titles; good, neutral, and evil.

The good people are the ones who are selfless. They take the first step when it comes to helping others. They aren’t perfect but they are as close as anyone can be. Only a small amount of people fit into the category of ‘good’, most of which find themselves canonized into sainthood years after death. Many strive to be classified under such a prestige title, but few make the cut. However, just because someone isn’t worthy of the title, doesn’t make them a bad person automatically. 

Neutral individuals are what most would describe as your ‘average Joe’. It is the category in which most people lie. They are neither good nor bad. The choices they make in life come with a mix of positive and negative intentions. An example of a neutral person could be someone’s English teacher, who partakes in volunteer work after hours, or your boss, who had just been caught cheating on his wife with Jim from the mailroom. Just because people do bad things, doesn’t make them inherently evil. 

True evil is much darker. An individual who would put a demon to shame with their actions, thoughts, and desires. One with little regard for the well-being of others. Ones that hurt others purely for self-gratification. To gain an advantage. Those are the ones that end up in prison or a seat in Congress. They’re usually manipulative, have a silver tongue placed in their mouth at birth, and can easily coerce those who are weak and gullible. 

(Y/N) had met his fair share of individuals from all three categories throughout his time on Earth, supernatural entities excluded. At first, with his angelic powers, he was able to make an assumption of others based solely on their thoughts. Ever since the fall, however, his judgments on people had become rather askew. He was able to get the full experience of being human - not able to truly tell what one was thinking during various interactions - and he would be lying if he said he enjoyed it. Rather, the lack of understanding when it came to others caused him to develop a sense of paranoia. The last thing he wanted was for others to assume the worst of him. Even as an angel, he would treat the worst of the worst with as much kindness as he could muster.

Little did he know that the paranoia would lead to his downfall and a deep realization of how evil some people could be.

The first couple of weeks after his grace was stolen, (Y/N) was lost. He knew next to nothing about maintaining the necessary needs to keep his body alive. It was all tedious in his eyes. Why did humans need to eat, drink, and go to the bathroom so much throughout the day? Who possibly had the time to do so? Do they have to thread their needs into their schedules for work and school? On top of that, why did humans need to pay for food and water? Were they not necessities? Why would someone need to pay to survive? (Y/N) held a plethora of questions in his mind that still go unanswered. 

Thankfully, Castiel, Sam, and Dean were all there for him, guiding him through the processes necessary to provide for his new form. It took a while for him to get the hang of it - the most overwhelming thing was when he was introduced to a large variety of foods. All the new flavors and textures send his tongue into sensory overdrive. Dean was more than happy to realize, though, that the two of them were rather fond of the same flavor of pie. 

With the loss of his grace came the depletion of his strength. He was no longer invincible to man-made weaponry. Because of this, and since Sam and Dean’s jobs were so physically demanding, they spent weeks in training. Blades, firearms, and hand-to-hand all had their challenges, but (Y/N) was a quick learner, something the brothers respected him highly for. Within a month and a half, he was on the road with them, hopping from case to case. 

Saving people, hunting things, the family business. 

And true it was. The time he had spent with Castiel and the Winchesters was extensive, and there was never a dull moment. Away from the darkness and the monsters that crept in the night, Sam and Dean were playful jokesters. Childish, yet mature when they needed to be. It was noticeable that Castiel had also developed certain aspects of their personalities, as he was more lighthearted than when (Y/N) first met him. As time passed, (Y/N), too, started to display those characteristics. He felt like a member of the team. A real Winchester. For the first time since the fall, he felt at home. 

*~*

(Y/N) had been to a handful of bars since he turned human, before becoming an honorary member of the Winchester family, and there was one fact he could confidently state; he didn’t like them. 

Sure, he met some rather nice people while at said bars, mainly the middle-aged female bartenders who gave off a motherly aura, but with every kind individual he saw, he encountered twice as many assholes. Those were the ones that drunkenly called him slurs even though they knew nothing about him, the ones that shoved him out of the way when they wanted to get to the bar, or the ones that continuously pushed their limits on his personal boundaries.

Unfortunately, he had experienced the latter more than he would have liked.

He couldn’t quite describe how he felt when he had those interactions. When a bar patron would press themselves against his back or chest, touch his ass or thighs, or even leave kisses on his neck, shoulders, cheeks, and lips. It was decided, though, that he was extremely uncomfortable. Why would he possibly feel that way? He assumed that touches and kisses were how humans expressed affection towards one another. So, why didn’t he like it? He chalked it up to not being used to that form of affection or affection in general. Surely, he was bound to get comfortable with it eventually. 

After-hunt celebrations were common with the Winchesters. Either the day of or the night after, they would all gather at the nearest watering hole, grab a drink or two, and then head back to the motel. Sometimes, Sam or Dean would abandon the group to retreat with a romantic partner, but (Y/N) would always stick with Castiel and the remaining brother. He never had any interest in human relations. It was a new, complex situation outside of learning to be human. He was just getting used to that concept, and he had no desire to learn about other aspects of humanity yet. 

Classy Cline’s sat on the edge of a small town in Washington state. While its name suggested an upscale establishment, the place was, in all actuality, a shit hole. The booths and barstools were ripped at every corner of the seam, the tables were chipped and scuffed, and it appeared as if the employees hadn’t swept or mopped the floor in well over a decade. They had all been to nasty bars in the past, but Classy Cline’s took the cake.

“I don’t even wanna drink from this glass,” Sam mumbled as he eyed the pint glass Dean had placed in front of him. 

While aesthetics weren’t on Cline’s side, the beer looked more than appetizing. An amber/gold liquid, topped with a beautiful, white head. Any beer enthusiast would foam at the mouth at the sight. The glasses, contrary to the floors, looked spotless. If they had put as much effort into cleaning the building as they did disinfecting the glassware, lines would be out the door, and Cline would be a millionaire.

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Sammy,” Dean rolled his eyes and gave a beer to (Y/N) and Castiel. “It may not live up to its name, but the beer sure looks good.”

“Thank you, Dean,” (Y/N) and Castiel spoke in unison.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Dean shook his head and sat down next to his brother. “It’s as if you two are constantly in sync.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as he cupped the glass with one hand, condensation coating his palm. “We’re an American boy band from the 90’s?” He cocked his head to the side.

Dean froze, the glass inches from his lips as he shot him a questioning glance. “While I’m proud of you for remembering what I taught you about music, that’s not what I meant. ‘In sync’. Two separate words.”

“Oh…”

“(Y/N) and I have worked together for well over a century. We’re bound to have some similarities.” Castiel explained.

Dean shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” he took a sip of his beer.

(Y/N) noted Sam’s hesitancy to drink, so he took a moment to examine the liquid himself. It looked clean, safe, and better than many other beers he had drank before. He took a swig and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was still very cold. A layer of foam coated his upper lip. Sam picked up his glass and examined the bottom.

“Will you stop that?” Dean scolded. “The beer is fine, Sam, you’re not going to die. You look like an idiot.”

“Well, excuse me for being skeptical, Dean! Have you seen the state of this place? I believe I have a right to be concerned.” Sam hissed.

“The beer is very pleasant, Sam,” (Y/N) smiled as he took another long swig, downing half the pint. 

Sam slowly nodded. “I can tell,” he mumbled and glanced down at his glass. He hesitated for a moment before he took a careful sip, letting the liquid rest against his tastebuds before he swallowed. He hummed and raised his brows. “Wow, that’s pretty good.”

“See? Your big brother knows a thing or two about beer,” Dean smiled.

A bartender waltzed into view - an overworked twenty-something with her dirty blonde hair tossed back into a bun that she should have fixed hours ago. She sat a rocks glass in front of (Y/N), the ice emanating a clink inside as it shifted. He stared and intensely studied the dark liquid.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I didn’t order this,” he looked up at her.

The bartender sighed and gestured towards the bar. “The man over there sent it,” she grumbled, her voice unenthusiastic and laced with exhaustion. She didn’t give him any time to further investigate before she swiveled through the booths and tables, vanishing into the crowd of regulars. 

The group looked at the drink with curiosity before their attention shifted to the bar. Only one of the patrons had their gaze glued to the hunters. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with short, salt-and-pepper hair decorating the top of his head and a beard to match. Age lines crinkled the corners of his mouth and eyes. A leather jacket covered his broad shoulders and the jeans he wore left little to the imagination. When (Y/N)’s eyes connected with the stranger’s, the man smirked and winked. (Y/N) continued to stare at him, lips slightly parted, until he felt an elbow in his side. His gaze shot over to the eldest Winchester.

“Give him a smile and a wave. That shows him you appreciate it.” Dean said through a smile.

“Oh,” (Y/N) raised his brows and looked back at the man, whose eyes were still on him. He gave a small smile, followed by a timid wave.

The stranger grinned before he turned his head away. (Y/N) looked down and studied the glass once more. The liquid was a slightly darker shade than the beer, but more transparent. When he picked it up, the liquid sloshed inside. The smell was strong but slightly sweet. Whiskey. A sip of it caused him to cringe. It was Fireball. Not the best choice to send a stranger across the bar, but to each their own. 

Dean leaned in close to him, his cheeky grin still prominent. “You should go over and talk to him.”

“Why?”

“He just gave you a drink. He wants to talk to you.”

(Y/N) gave Dean a confused stare. “How does that-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dean waved him off. “He’s flirting with you by sending over the drink! You should go flirt back.”

(Y/N) looked from the drink to Dean, from Dean to the stranger. He was a very attractive man, but (Y/N) was far from interested in flirtation. However, if Dean thought he should, what could go wrong? He trusted Dean’s advice.

Hesitantly, (Y/N) stood, the glass of Fireball in hand, and made his way over to the bar where the gentleman sat. He took the empty barstool next to him. The man looked at him out of the corner of his eye and smirked.

“Good to see you up close,” he said and turned his body to face (Y/N). “You’re even cuter than I thought. Chris,” he held out his hand.

This is a handshake. This is how strangers greet each other.

(Y/n) grasped Chris’ hand and shook it gently. He noticed how firm his grip was. “My name is (Y/N),” he said.

Chris smirked. “A beautiful name for a beautiful man,” he pulled his hand away and casually placed it on (Y/N)’s knee. “I’ve been coming here for, close to, fifteen years, and I have never seen anyone as good-looking as yourself. You new around here?”

(Y/N)’s eyes shifted to Chris’ hand before they returned to his face. “My friends and I are on a trip.” He replied. It’s a classic lie most hunters use and one that was taught to him early on in his training.

“Ah, and how long will you be staying?”

“I believe this is the last night we’re here.”

“You’re not sure?”

“My friend, Dean, drives us. He knows more about our itinerary than I do.”

“A ‘go with the flow’ kind of man. I like it.”

As they continued to talk, Chris’ hand ventured further up (Y/N)’s thigh, squeezing the flesh on his leg from time to time. Simple conversation switched to flirting rather quickly, the majority of it one-sided. What started as cheesy ‘first date’ type questions turned risque in the blink of an eye. At first, they were easy questions that (Y/N) could answer without an issue, but once they started to get dirty, his mind turned blank. Half the vocabulary Chris used was new to him. While he knew all of them revolved around sex, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the definition, regardless of the context clues provided. 

He could feel the familiar pit in his stomach as the questions droned on. The sensation that he couldn’t quite give a title to yet. At least, not an accurate one. ‘Uncomfortable’ seemed as if it fit too loosely for the circumstance. It felt as if there were a swarm of bees buzzing around in his stomach, moving from his gut to his chest periodically.

Chris leaned in close to (Y/N)’s ear, his warm, whiskey-filled breath caressing his cheek. (Y/N)’s eyes were cast down. He had lost the ability to maintain constant eye contact when the mood shifted, and the bees began their attack.

“What do you say we get out of here?” Chris asked. “I could show you a thing or two.”

When Chris’s hand landed on (Y/N)’s crotch, every muscle in his body was on fire as they clenched tightly. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide and his body froze. The bees didn’t just fly, they infiltrated his entire nervous system. He felt an overwhelming need to retreat like one would in a battle they knew they couldn’t win. But he wasn’t in a battle. It was a simple conversation. Why did he feel like that?

Chris pressed small kisses on the back of (Y/N)’s ear. (Y/N) inhaled and turned his head slightly, the need to get away from Chris strong. Chris immediately stopped and opened his eyes. He paused for a moment before he pulled away and sighed.

“I see you’re not as interested as I thought you were,” he gave a tight smile, pulled out his wallet, and slammed a twenty on the bar. “Thanks for nothing.” He grumbled before he got up and stormed away.

With his presence gone, (Y/N) felt a sense of peace and ease wash over him. The beating of his heart inside his chest began to lessen and return to a normal pace. With a glance down at his hand, he noticed the way his fingertips trembled. That hadn’t been the first time someone else had gotten so bold with touching him, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last. When was that feeling going to go away?

After a minute or so passed, he was able to compose himself enough to stand from the barstool and wander back to the table where Sam, Dean, and Castiel sat. He joined them without a word, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, and grabbed his lukewarm beer. There was no chance he was going to drink anymore that night. Not with his stomach as uneasy as it was.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) spoke.

“You sure?” Dean chimed in. “Guy looked like he had a stick up his ass when he left.

(Y/N) shrugged. “I believe he just wanted to leave.” He tried to keep his voice as straight as possible. He could tell his nerves hadn’t fully recovered.

Dean shook his head. “Well, his loss.”

*~*

One thing (Y/N) adored about being human was the way showers made him feel after a hunt. He never quite realized how tense his muscles could get until the hot water caressed his limbs. It was as if all the adrenaline was washed from his body. It made him feel refreshed. Renewed.

That night, he got the last shower. The water wasn’t as hot as other showers he had taken, but he would accept warm any day. By the time he left the bathroom, clad in a pair of night pants and a loose t-shirt courtesy of the youngest Winchester, Sam, Dean, and Castiel were dressed to leave. Another post-hunt celebration. Dean glanced at (Y/N).

“You’re not coming?” He asked. 

(Y/N) shook his head and walked over to his bed. “Not tonight, no.”

“Why not? You never miss out on a bar.”

(Y/N) settled into the bed, and sat up with his legs crossed. “I notice that humans get very physical when they are at bars. I’m not quite used to it yet, so I think I’m going to wait until I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, (Y/N)?” Castiel asked.

“The touching.”

The three of them shared a concerned look before Sam waved his hand dramatically, eyes closed tightly. 

“Wait,” he reached a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean ‘get used to’?”

“Well, I’m not accustomed to the way humans express attraction. I surely wasn’t aware that there was as much physical contact involved. So, I figured it was something I would be more comfortable with as time went on. I mean, I never knew strangers were so interested in touching each other’s genitalia.”

They all furrowed their brows, confusion etched perfectly on their faces, and slowly made their way over to the bed. Sam sat at the edge next to (Y/N), Dean stood next to him, and Castiel sat on the opposite side of the bed from Sam.

“(Y/N),” Sam started, his voice soft and steady, the same voice he used when talking to the families of victims. “Have you…given these people permission to touch you?”

(Y/N) cocked his head to the side, slightly taken aback by the question, as it was something he had never even considered before. Had he permitted them to touch him? He could not recall. Then again, he didn’t remember them asking. He took a moment to think back on the times he had been in bars since he became human.

“No,” he answered. “The first couple of times it happened, I pulled away from the touch, as it made me rather uncomfortable, but they would just get upset. One man told me it was wrong to ‘lead him on’ and then deny his touch. After that, I let people touch me. I would like a break from it for tonight.”

“(Y/N), other humans need permission to touch you,” Castiel said.

“But they get upset-”

“To Hell with them being upset,” Dean interjected. “No one has a right to touch you, especially if you don’t want them to.”

“Is that why that one guy left the last bar we went to left? You wouldn’t let him touch you?” Sam asked.

(Y/N) could feel his cheeks and neck heat up. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to hide his face. Was it because of the answer to the question? Was it because of the question itself? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the origin of the sense of dread, but he knew it wasn’t going to vanish anytime soon.

He shook his head, eyes cast down to his hands. “I let him touch me. I assume it was because I didn’t respond when he asked me to leave with him.”

Dean’s jaw clenched as he ran a hand down his face. “Son of a bitch,” he growled and began to lightly pace between the motel beds.

Sam slowly shook his head. “(Y/N), those people are horrible. You should never touch someone without consent, and you should never let anyone touch you if you are uncomfortable with it. Do you understand?” His eyes were laced with sympathy.

(Y/N) went to say something, but he felt a lump in his throat prevent him from doing so. Instead, he just gave a short, brief nod.

“I can only imagine how tough it was to become human. To lose all that power. You may not have the power to heal us anymore or read others’ minds, but you are still your own person, (Y/N). You have the power to tell people to keep their hands off of you. You have the power to let yourself have a good time at these places. It doesn’t matter what other people think about your choices. In the end, all that matters is you, okay?”

“Okay,” he replied, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. 

(Y/N) sniffled, and he felt as if his head was pulsing. Tears sprung to the corner of his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks. For the first time since he lost his grace, he cried. It wasn’t loud and dramatic, but, rather, soft.

It explained so much. How he hated the way bar patrons touched him, the sinking feeling when they got too close, the panic that coursed through his veins. That was no flaw on his part, but a flaw on the strangers. What they did was wrong, not him.

And that validation broke him.

(Y/N) immediately knew he hated crying. His chest ached as the silent sobs racked his body. In a way, it was relieving, though. It felt as if all of the pent-up discomfort was being released. As if he was reborn. Still, it hurt worse than it did comfort him.

Castiel was the first to respond as he placed a gentle hand against (Y/N)’s back, Sam, being the closest, engulfed him in a near bone-shattering embrace, and Dean halted his paces to kneel beside the bed, one of his hands landing on the small of his back. (Y/N) closed his eyes tight and leaned his head against Sam’s chest. Their touch made him feel safe. This was a good touch. This was how touch should make him feel. He shouldn’t be forced to feel uncomfortable to please others, because, in reality, some people aren’t going to like him, even if the reasons are far from valid. It was a harsh reality, but as long as he had his family by his side, he didn’t mind if the whole world hated him.

After a few quiet minutes, filled with silent cries, the tears stopped. (Y/N)’s eyes were bright red and puffy, and he occasionally sniffled.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice soothing.

(Y/N) lifted his head from Sam’s chest and glanced over at him. Sam pulled back a bit so the embrace wasn’t nearly as intense.

“If you’re ever in a situation like that, where some douchebag won’t keep his hands off of you, all you have to do is say the word and we’ll kick his ass for you.”

“What if it’s a woman?” He asked quietly.

Dean opened his mouth to give a quick answer but shut it as he thought about it. “Then we will have Cas bring Jody or Charlie in to kick her ass. The point is; fuck everyone else.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “Does that not mean to have intercourse with them?”

Dean sighed. “Sam, Cas, a little help?”

“What Dean is trying to say,” Castiel chimed in. “Is that you should not prioritize other peoples’ desires over your comfort. You are more important than a stranger. They are not important, you are, and what other people think doesn’t matter. If someone does not listen to you when you deny them, we will do everything in our power to protect you. We still care about you, and want what’s best for you.”

Dean pressed his lips together and nodded. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. That’s exactly what I meant.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back his smirk. “Look, we know how tough it is to be human. Dean and I have been dealing with this our whole lives. We know that there are setbacks that come with the package, but there are also a ton of fun experiences. We don’t want some jackass to ruin it for you. Cas said it better than Dean or I could. We care about you and want to do everything we can to look out for you. You deserve it.”

The tears reappeared, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of joy. Of relief. As if his heart would burst with all the love and care his friends will it with. (Y/N) took a moment to wrap his arms around each of them in an individual hug to show his appreciation. 

“Thank you. I am very grateful to have friends like you.” He smiled warmly.

Dean smiled before he cleared his throat and waved him off. “Alright, enough of the chick-flick crap,” he said as he stood from his spot on the floor, a groan escaping his throat that he tried not to make too noticeable. “What do you say we skip the bar tonight, order some takeout, and watch a movie? I hear Roadhouse is on at seven.”

(Y/N) cocked his head to the side. “What’s Roadhouse?”

Dean froze, wide-eyed. His jaw dropped in shock. “‘What’s Roadhouse’?” He repeated in disbelief. “Action movie? Patrick Swayze? Sam Elliott? Kelly Lumch? Julie Michaels? Keith David!?” With each name, his voice got louder.

“Are those actors?”

“I-” Dean threw his hands up as he turned his back on him and began to pace around the room once more.

(Y/N) flashed a worried look at Castiel, then Sam. Sam shook his head and chuckled. 

“Dean’s just being dramatic,” he whispered, which caused (Y/N) to let out a sigh of relief.

“I am not being dramatic!” Dean retorted before he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “This is all my fault. I was so focused on teaching him about good music that movies never crossed my mind. Have you at least seen Indiana Jones?”

“Indiana…as in the state?”

“If it makes you feel any better, (Y/N), I, too, have yet to see Roadhouse or Indiana Jones,” Castiel said.

Dean deadpanned. “I have some work to do. Sam, go get us some food. I need to make a list of movies for them to watch.”

Sam snorted as he stood from his spot on the bed. “Yeah, yeah. Just text me what you guys want.” He mumbled and retrieved his jacket from the back of one of the chairs.

As Sam left to get them food, Dean began to ramble on about movies he determined (Y/N) and Castiel had to watch, most of which were either action or old westerns. He talked with such passion regarding the films that (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. Dean was right, the opinions of others didn’t matter, especially those whose only goal was to satisfy their selfish desires, disregarding others’ wellbeing. They were foolish, scum, true lions in sheep’s clothing. Those hidden evil beings could make themselves look innocent. (Y/N) didn’t need to please them. Didn’t need to make them happy. He only wanted to make his family happy, just as they did him. For how much they’ve helped him on his treacherous journey into manhood, they deserve it, for they have taught him the most valuable lesson of all;

His worth was priceless.

…

“Hey, are you even listening?”