#it is 4am i am Alive at Last

[xbadnews]

MINI CHARACTER PLAYLIST

SHARE AT LEAST FIVE SONGS THAT REMIND YOU OF YOUR MUSE, OR THAT YOU ASSOCIATE WITH YOUR MUSE’S CHARACTER ARC. Including lyrics is optional.

i can hold a grudge like nobody's business - adam jensen

Living just to say goodbye Save me from my selfish pride Can you see the words written on my face?

okay so something i talk about quite a bit is that percy tends to live day to day. it's something he works on with time but it's not a linear process; he's someone who perceives himself as dead before the story started. he lives with the intent of dying, quickly, but not before these impossible string of events he thinks somehow, through his price, he & his friends can achieve. [ killing the briarwoods, r i p l e y , taking on the chroma conclave, stopping vecna ]

but while he feels he's destined for death [ or already dead ] he's b e g g i n g to be seen. i think it was @deathwalkerr that pointed out to me how badly percy wants to be feared, how badly he wants his innate danger to be acknowledged. his pride drives him to be impulsive, which mixes super dangerously with this inability to think about the future.

You got me actin' like the old me But you don't even know me

i like these lines mixed with the sentiment of him holding grudges because there is this bittersweet feeling that comes w him getting close w vox machina. they become the closest thing he has to family, they're the people he feels closest to alive with. but he feels unknown for a long, long time.

so while he starts to engage in more positive/fun things there's still this sentiment of ' you don't know who i was, you only know what i show you ' which kind of hangs over his head for a long time before he can trust himself entirely with vm. this being said, i definitely think keyleth is the first person to draw him out of this mentality. she's the first one to bring his walls down & see percy's fluctuating definition of ' self ' .

Can I get a witness? 'Cause I can hold a grudge like nobody's business Seein' double vision Show me what you got and I'll show what you're missing

this is the chorus!!! a huge part of why it's here. again, playing off of that desire to be seen as dangerous. to be seen as unpredictable. to be handled with the caution he does not have. yes! got a lot of positive traits. he tries to be good but good is not the priority. he's also petty, angry & often unafraid when he should be.

it's also sort of a sentiment of ' well you aren't seeing it so i'll Show You ' but that's a whole nother conversation.

2. arsonist's lullaby - hozier

so first of all before i get into specifics, i have to clarify that this is one of my favorite songs for percy. one of the themes of this blog i like to dig into is utilizing your demons, using the worst parts of yourself to do what you think is necessary.

When I was a child I heard voices Some would sing and Some would scream You soon find you have few choices I learned the voices died with me

this is a sentiment i love. sort of plays off of when percy met the raven queen & asked if he was always broken & she answered yes. there's always been a darkness within him, an urge that couldn't quite be satisfied. i have this headcanon that as a kid, percy was a secret thrill seeker. he'd climb whitestone walls & frame his siblings for pranks & get up to all sorts of trouble.

he rarely got caught because no one was ever looking at him, he's the backup of a backup & what he's doing was always secondary to whatever his older siblings were doing. so there's always been this wildness within him that's manifested in different ways, that he's used in different ways. as a kid, it was just to get a thrill. as an adult it's a stronger beast entirely, but it is the beast the forged his survival.

All you have is your fire And the place you need to reach Don't you ever Tame your demon But always keep 'em on a leash

this plays on that thought of ' that beast forged his survival '. it's like, even in his most desperate times he still had that wild will to live. that rabid, instinctual fire to live. has it burned through his life like a storm? yes!!! in so many places ashes is all that's left. but you can do so much with ash. you can make ink, bricks, compost.

it's this sentiment again of utilizing that fire within him regardless of the consequences because that fire is how he's survived. it's costed so much, but it's always been apart of him. it will never not be. it's just a matter of learning how to manage it in a way that he can still live a life. that he can build whatever fluctuating definition of the future he's trying to work towards, whether or not he's able to view himself as a part of that future.

When I was a man I thought it ended When I knew loves perfect ache But my peace has always depended On all the ashes in my way

again, it's that idea of ' you can do so much with ash ' & as he grows up, he does. he absolutely does. he doesn't put out his fire, but he learns how to manage it. it's like this shift between ' what it's done to him ' to ' what he can do with it'. he learns to love longterm, he cares longterm with time. it's not a linear journey by any means, but it's one he takes. but he still uses his fire to protect his home, his friends, his family. he keeps growing, but never forgets what exists within him. what he can use to make sure he never loses it again.

3. hi ren - ren

so i'm going to clarify before digging into this that i have a lot to say on this song. it is a song based in mental illness but i also have it on percy's playlist because it definitely feels like how i imagine percy's relationship w/ orthax is. but i also love it as a back & forth because one of the things i preach is that percy's healing journey is not linear. some days are harder than others & i feel like this song nails the battle within self.

And I've been making some progress lately And I've learnt some new coping skills So I haven't really needed you much, man I think we need to just step back and chill

there are a few chunks of this song talking about doing a little better, looking at the present in a different light than his usual perception. it's this idea of 'getting better' & trying to leave old habits, old pieces of yourself in the past. which as talked about previously, does not work for percy. he defines survival by the worst, most ferocious pieces of himself & orthax is one of those things.

And when I'm gone, maybe I'll be remembered For doing something special with myself That's why I don't think that we should talk, man 'Cause when you're with me, it never seems to help

again that feeling of ' i am doing better, i will do better ' which is part of like percy;s endgame. he wants to be remembered beyond the weapons he put into this world, he wants to be better than he was previously & thinks that he can be. knows that he can be, eventually. but there is this scar of orthax left in percy's mind that leads to moments like the next lyrics.

You think that you can amputate me? I am you, you are me, you are I, I am we We are one, split in two that makes one, so you see You got to kill you if you wanna kill me I'm not left over dinner, I'm not scraps on the side Oh, your music is thriving? Delusional guy

i like these lyrics because it makes me think not only of orthax targeting ripley as a conduit to get back at percy, but also like the thoughts left from getting rid of orthax. it's like this thought of even if he's gone, it doesn't change the darkness within percy. it doesn't change his capacity for violence. it's this feeling of ' i will never be free from this part of myself & it will always remind me '

Fuck you, I don't need you, I don't need to hear this 'Cause I'm fine by myself, I'ma genius And I will be great, and I will make waves And I'll shake up the whole world beneath us

but percy snaps back. he cultivates this faith in people via vox machina, which leads to faith in self that again is not a linear progression but it's one he treasures. he knows this nastiness is apart of him but it doesn't stop him from wanting to be better, from trying to be better. he has changed the world & wants to continue to do so despite this internal pull away from self-help.

When standing in-front of my solar eclipse My name it is stitched to your lips, so, you see

this is another bit talking about orthax/percy's darkness as being a part of him, regardless of the growth he goes through. it will always exist within him, whether or not he wants it there.

As I got older, I realised that there were no real winners And there were no real losers in physiological warfare But there were victims and there were students

this line specifically i feel like alludes to one of my headcanons abt him absorbing bits of the people around him, absorbing bits of ripley specifically when he was in captivity. just that thought of ' there are victims & there are students ' like percy learned how to survive via his suffering rather than allowing it to kill him.

It was never really a battle for me to win, it was an eternal dance And like a dance, the more rigid I became, the harder it got The more I cursed my clumsy footsteps, the more I struggled So I got older and I learned to relax And I learned to soften and that dance got easier It is this eternal dance that separates human beings From angels, from demons, from gods And I must not forget, we must not forget That we are human beings

this is just here because these lyrics shape how i view percy's state of mind. ' the more i cursed my clumsy footsteps, the more i struggle'. it plays off of the sentiment of the last song, that this darkness, that orthax will always be a part of him. what he's done will always be apart of him. his mental illness will always be apart of him. but it does not define him. it's not all he is. he has fucked up, he will continue to do so, but he will keep going. it really lends to the shift between ' i will die, i am dead ' to ' i want to live, life is too full to miss '

4. this too shall pass - danny schmidt

My friend makes rings She swirls and sings She's a mystic in the sense That she's still mystified by things But scared to ask How can nothing seem to last

these lyrics specifically make me think of how percy views keyleth. their relationship is one of my favorites & i think these lyrics really hit the nail on the head for his view of her. specifically ' She's a mystic in the sense that she's still mystified by things ' because he see's her learning journey firsthand & plays a part in it. but there is this anger within her that burns things up, just like the fire within him.

i also love this song in terms of he & keyleth's relationship because of the sentiments surrounding how temperamental life is. like it passes, quickly. percy's life will be the blink of an eye to keyleth, there will be a day when she forgets his voice, the wrinkles on his forehead, passing details that won't matter in a couple hundred years. does he think she will forget him? sometimes. but he knows in his heart she wont. but that doesn't make life any longer, existence any more permanent.

also i like these lyrics because it sort of sells this idea of the peace they work towards relentlessly being a temporary solution. their work together will one day be undone & all they can do is hope it will last the span of their lives.

So I pray to hands And I pray to needs And I pray to blades of grass To find forgiveness in the weeds

percy is faithless, he doesn't hold much trust in the gods. but he has faith in the people he loves. he believes in his family. so though he doesn't practice religion, love is the closest thing he's got. which is a hard pill to swallow for him when his instinct is anything but love, when the instinct that has driven him to survive for so long. but because of him practicing love ( to the best of his ability ) he tries to practice forgiveness. it's hard, relentlessly so, but he makes that active effort to work towards it. there will always be someone wretched, but he was wretched once too. does that mean he has to trust them??? absolutely not! but that doesn't mean he's going to condemn them either.

I just never did believe And so I never prayed myself Except to those that prayed for me

this plays off of that last idea, that the closest thing to religion he has is love. that the closest thing he has to faith is in people.

5. up the wolves - the mountain goats

There's bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet No matter where you live There'll all ways be a few things, maybe several things That you're gonna find really difficult to forgive

here's that theme of forgiveness/healing not being a linear journey. percy forgives the people who hurt him in theory. it's a means to move past what they did to him, to become more than what happened to him. but that doesn't mean it's an easy process. he decides to forgive ripley right before she kills him & there is a lot of emotional debris from this

also bonus song: i'm not angry anymore plays on this theme. [i'm not angry anymore, well sometimes i am.] it's like this feeling of wanting to be better, wanting to forgive but it's a whole process when that ability for danger & to take a grudge has defined so much of what he's accomplished up until this point. it defines a part of him that he begs to be feared, that he uses as a weapon in survival. but survival doesn't have to be a fight & in order to accept that, he has to let go of a few things. of alot of things. which is not easy, it's one of the hardest things he's ever done. including taking down a literal god. but man, is it worth it.

There's gonna come a day when you'll feel better You'll rise up free and easy on that day And float from branch to branch, lighter than the air Just when that day is coming, who can say? Who can say?

again, it's this feeling of forgiveness not being a linear journey. one day he will feel better, one day things will be better & eventually he is able to see that. but it's not an immediate effect. saying you forgive someone & actually forgiving them are two separate things & it takes a long time to do, but it's something that is eternally worth doing.

he accepts the parts of himself forged by the people who's hurt him, by the people he's hurt. he accepts that they will always be apart of him, but stops holding it against them if that makes sense??? it's a huge weight off of his shoulders, but it's not immediate. it takes time, but one day he does feel better. one day he gets to be better.

tagged by: @mindhallow [ thank you this is my favorite thing to do ] tagging: @delightfalse, @deathwalkerr, @spellwound, @countercharmd , @xavthew0rld , @whalefelled, @heartheaded, @lunarfey, @luxcruor, @chosenpower, @vchloras, @firefurious

[almostempty]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sleep alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve got this.

You’ve got this.

You don’t got this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was mesmerizing. Infuriatingly so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You had every right to be upset.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure ain’t. I know I made mistakes along the way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His centering presence somehow has you rocked off balance.

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

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

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

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

But you don’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you’ve got no idea how much I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t help it.” Joel shrugs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel shakes his head, deflecting the comment.

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

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

Joel gives you another warm look with unspoken words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@bbyanarchist @94namkooksworld

[diamondshapedcat]

Unicorn HRT Diary - Month 0

I remember the first time I saw an animal person in the flesh. She was a bunny girl biker decked out in leathers who had decided to fill up here in the absolute middle of nowhere hole that I had the misfortune to be born into. I couldn't believe it as I was running on empty at the end of a very lifeless night shift manning the gas pumps for the few trucks that still bothered to pass my town. Was it 3 or 4am? I can't remember the time but I will never ever forget her. She was in my life for about five minutes but she saw how I looked at her and gave a look back, like she knew something about me that I didn't. It took me 6 months to realise why. I don't know you bunny girl but thank you for showing me the way and giving me a reason to live.

So that brings us to today and who I am. I am Tamara (She/her) and I am a unicorn. Well not yet but I want to be and I can't wait! There's a box waiting on my bed full of medicine that will shape me into who I am inside. Part of me wants to swallow it all at once but I have to restrain myself and make it last. It was hell trying to get this and I never want to go through it all again.

I live in a small dying town out by the mountains. Other than the old mine which shut down on my birthday there's nothing keeping this place alive. I am living in a walking corpse of a town and I hate it here. All my friends from school, all the smart cool people left the first chance they got. It's like they could smell decay in the air and bolted. Only drug addicts and drunkards left behind still live here without hope of anything better. If I hadn't suffered that lung infection that kept me away from school for a year I might have been able to escape too. Instead all I can do is work the night shift at the gas station and hope I don't get mugged on the way back home.

I've always wished I could just get away and run free through green fields forever like an animal. I can't believe that wish is about to come true. All those questions, the struggles to prove that I need this and the endless forms I had to fill in, all so I could get my hands on the pills that will save my life.

I'm going to take my first dose tonight!

Next part here

-----------------------------------------------------------------

So that's part one done in what will hopefully become an interesting tale of exploration and liberation. It's been a while since I had the urge to write stories and seeing the animal hrt comics has inspired me to start again. Just so we are clear I'm not a therian or otherkin so forgive me if I get things wrong sometimes. I just wanted to have a bit of fun creating a story around an fascinating concept.

Shoutout to @ayviedoesthings and all the others who have added to the wonderful animal hrt world!

[g4yr4t]

yesterday, annie and I had to make the difficult decision to put my dearly beloved childhood cat, annabell, to sleep. annabell was with me for eighteen years - since I was thirteen years old. I have so much to say about her that I'm going to put it under a cut for the sake of everyone's dashboards.

my aunt found annabell in a park when I was thirteen. or, more accurately, annabell found her. she walked right up to my aunt (and her german shepherd) and wanted to be taken home, so that's what my aunt (who had several cats and two dogs) did. my mom decided that it would actually be okay for me to have a cat after all, and she was with me for eighteen years after that. the only time we didn't live together was when I was in college and couldn't take her with me to the dorms/apartments.

she was kind of a bitch in the early days, to be honest. or at least, very strong-willed and sassy and not super cuddly. but when I was fourteen and my nana was in the hospital dying and I was crying all the time, she was sweet and snuggly to me. she was good to me when it mattered.

I thought for sure that I had lost her at least three times over the years. once, she got stuck in an attic crawlspace in my mom's house on christmas eve. I was understandably distraught, because we couldn't get her out. but then, on christmas day, she woke my mom up by yelling at her for food, having somehow figured out how to free herself.

she got also got trapped in a wall in my first apartment, and then went missing for twenty-four hours after having wandered out of my house when someone was moving in around 2020 or 2021. that was absolutely awful. she had already gone deaf by then, so even though my neighbors were super sweet and searched and called for her, I knew it was unlikely that she would turn up. then, the next day, my roommate and I were sitting in the living room and we heard this pitiful meowing. she had found her way back to our front porch and was sitting by the window outside. it had stormed the night before, and she was wet and matted and hungry but still very alive. after that, we got her a collar with a bell on it and a tag with her name and annie's phone number.

she mellowed out after she lost her hearing and became much more social, planting herself in the middle of parties and gatherings to take up space while sleeping. she got up into my lap sometimes, and while she wasn't exactly cuddly, she would sit there until I absolutely had to move her. she wouldn't take a hint or move when I changed positions - I had to physically remove her from my body.

she loved to go outside, even though she had been an indoor cat since my aunt found her in that park. we were planning on harness training her, but her joints became stiff and it got harder for her to walk and we had to move out of the house with the good backyard. she came with my to five different houses and apartments, with more and more moving in her later years. I am deeply sad that she will not be coming with me to my next apartment, or to wherever I eventually "settle down" (which will hopefully happen someday soon).

but she was sick, and had been for a long time. even though she was eighteen and had arthritis and respiratory problems that included a very upsetting cough, her sudden decline was surprising. within the past week, she lost her ability to jump, stopped eating independently (we fed her by hand), and completely lost control of her bladder. I picked her up and put her on the couch to sleep the last couple of nights so that she could be next to me. she couldn't come up on my bed to smack me in the face for food at 4am anymore (I would hear the jingling of her collar, then she would hit me in the face... jingle, smack. heavy breathing. smack.).

she was such a huge part of my life, and it even though she was doing very badly as of yesterday, I still had hope that we could give her meds and take her home so that she could pass here instead of at the vet's office. but that isn't how it happened. I hate that that isn't how it happened. we buried her in my mom's backyard because she loved to be outside and we don't have a backyard with real dirt right now and we'll be moving soon anyway. even though I know it isn't the case, I still feel like I let her down. leaving my mom's house still felt like abandoning her. I already miss her so, so much, and it's going to be very weird to live without her.

annabell, I loved you dearly. I still love you dearly. there is a hole in my heart where you were. you were a cat, but also a friend and a companion and the longest lasting relationship in my life outside of my (human) family members. we watched each other grow up for eighteen years. I will never stop grieving, even when I stop crying for you all the time, because that's how love works. I miss you, my old lady. goodnight.

[regret-breathing]

complaining at 4am again: angry edition

its fucked up that not only can i not afford to have a room with walls and im forced to sleep on a painful couch acting as the live in maid/therapist to a woman i despise who behaves like a teenager, but i cant even get a job to fix this. like what the fuck am i supposed to do when to keep my current awful couch im sleeping on i have to be cleaning up after and supporting my roommate 24/7, but in order to leave id need extensive time to meticulously comb the atrocious job market in my city until some fuckass 711 will hire me because im not qualified enough to work anywhere else.

too broke to not be at the whims of this horrible soulless white girl, too exhausted to find a job, too disabled to have the work experience or degree that would get me said job, too useless to find a way out of this hell. all i can do is wait for her to get disgruntled over something minuscule and kick me out, or until i snap and tell her the truth about how i feel about her at which point im definitely getting kicked out.

im teetering on the edge of a looooot of bad shit right now and i dont entirely think im likely to make it out of this alive unless i won the damn lottery. brb developing a drinking problem in secret because im not “allowed” to keep alcohol in her apartment.

and hey, soulless white girl i live with, if youre stalking my fucking tumblr again and find this post, ive lost any remaining shred of respect for you and if you have any problem with any of this i invite you to come at me with a knife and see how that goes, because kicking me out and trying to kill me at this point will have the same impact. just know that without me youd have lost literally everyone you love in your life to your own childish bullshit if i wasnt coaching you through every social situation for the last 2 years, and i have more dirt on you than you can even remember so, good luck if you fuck me over because im a petty bitch who doesnt play around when it comes to my housing <3

[writeforfandoms]

It's 4am where I live and I literally dreamt this shit and woke up and now I have to share

Your shifter au, especially the mink!reader one, consumed 102% of my brain and its all i think about now ✨

So anyways I'm not sure how exactly my dream went but here's the recap? Man idk it's 4 am so

And sorry for any typos in advance

Y'know how mink was captured and they skinned her (bad torture and all that) and the boys rescued her and all

Well what if we reverse it?

What if the boys get captured on a mission to dismantle a shifter trafficking ring, because it was in fact, a trap, and their captors had tranq guns ready (I mean would bullets be effective? I don't think so) and let's pretend mink was on another mission or on leave for the sake of the story😂

and they keep them drugged so they can't do anything but are aware just enough while they make new delas or something

And then mink gets back to base and they're not there

Don't imagine mink finding out and going apsolutley quiet, which is the total oposite of how she is and it scares people, carnage on her mind because how dare they touch her boys

While she's tracking them down they force the boys to shift, and forced shifts are painful, so they can torture them for information because they are military and those fuckers want to know how compromised they are with the ring and all

When she finally tracks them down and gets to the location she goes apsolutley beserk (I imagine her sneaking around as a weasel and takes half of the ring with silent kills) and then gets to the main cage rooms and doesn't find her boys and she thinks she's to late but refuses to give up (she would go to the end of the world for them) and then she finds Horangi drugged up he can't even twitch, tied to a interrogation chair, full of cuts and bruises, overall injured

He sees her and tries to tell her to run while she can because it's not safe, but she unties him and supports his weight and unresponsive limbs and drags him to a safe corner

She goes to search for her big bear but doesn't find him, and she looses her shit because hes not here where is he?

Evac comes and they take Horangi out on a stretcher with mink not far behind

Anyways I woke up there, but imagine a few days later they find out where they took Konig, Horangi is still recovering because the drugs apparently have long lasting effects and she seethes with the thought

And she goes behind everyone's backs and finds Konig in a cell, in his human form, unconscious and unresponsive with various injuries and suspicious black bruising along his ribs which are 100% broken because the drugs prevent him from healing

Carnage follows, no one is alive when the team comes, they just find her stabbing the already dead bastard over and over and over again

Long story short she had to be sedated because she was down right feral

she helps them recover, like they did her and doesn't leave them out of her sight, and everyone's afraid if she doesn't see one of her boys she will go feral again

🙃😁

Hey HEY GET BACK HERE

This was a dream you had?? Damn. Daaaaaamn.

🦐 anon, we got another one! 😂

Okay but for real. Mink would absolutely go AWOL and feral if she needed to, in order to get her pack back. She would not stop. She would be absolutely vicious. Nobody would expect it looking at her, especially with her habit of being a little chaos gremlin, but she is absolutely lethal.

The people who took her pack learn that. Briefly. In the short time before they're all dead.

We're putting these three through so much pain, I love it

[sadsnek]

sleep depervation miku

so i got sick last sater day and despite no longer vomiting or having dierrea i still cant get more than 2 hours of sleep a day so to past the time i play some musicand a song with miku plays so im like oh yeah i could draw miku from memory with some of this free time i just relized that a had a refrance being the song i was replaying over and over again but i dident use that did i now also i tryed to rerember how to scroll the bruss size instead of buckut tooling it all and wile masing my kebord i anded that pink thing and tryed to erace it thats why her eyebro is cut and any lins i draw just come out of the dot so rather than finish the miku i am just going to right this down before i forget any way hop you injoy sleep depservation miku iam making this at 4am but i am going to scdule this for when the people are alive

[hotwaterandmilk]

Paripi Koumei/Ya Boy Kongming! drama finale extremely brief almost-4am thoughts.

I'M NOT EVEN MAD ABOUT THEM DOING THIS TO ME. IT HURT SO GOOD. I LOVED IT OH MY GODDDDDD.

It's the middle of the night and I should be sleeping, but I have no self control so when I saw this was available I needed to watch it immediately. Summer Sonia plan has its bumps but everything works out. Eiko and Maria sing together, everything is AWESOME for everyone who isn't Keiji and the show has 10 mins to go and yayyyy!

But then Kongming is drawn back to that meeting with Liu Bei they've been blue balling us with all series and he realises:

Cue Kongming and Owner having a heartfelt conversation in a way only two middle-aged men who converse exclusively through Three Kingdoms lore can.

Obviously the exact details are kind of skewed, but Kobayashi has previously suggested Kongming's dreams are calling to him so he can accept that Kongming has to go and lets him. Eiko is performing and doesn't realise any of this is going on. Later that night at the BB Lounge she thanks Kongming and he gives her his final pep talk.

But can't bring himself to say he thinks he's going back to being dead or whatever, so he holds back tears and Eiko just goes about like :D before singing upon Kongming's request without realising he sees this as the final performance of hers he'll ever witness. FLASHBACK TO ALL THE GOOD TIMES. SHOW WHY YOU DO THIS. HE BEGINS WALKING TOWARDS LIU BEI...

Cut to everyone else coming in for the evening's celebrations as Eiko is performing, Kongming lets everyone step in front of him until he disappears behind the crowd...

Outside the club Kobayashi (who has been escorting KABEtaijin) suddenly looks up at a shooting star in the sky and silently mouths "Kongming."

KABE and Kobayashi head inside, everyone is celebrating and it's super cute.

Kobayashi looks around for Kongming but can't see him so heads behind the bar. Then Eiko, oblivious Eiko WHO HAS HAD NO IDEA WHATSOEVER THAT ANY OF THIS WAS HAPPENING, can't see Kongming anywhere either! She calls out for him, asks Owner but he says he hasn't seen him... Kongming is just... gone...

She looks everywhere for Kongming, calling his name....

😭😭😭

... and then she finds him in front of the mirror in the back room crying but IT'S OK BECAUSE HE'S.STILL.HERE.

He didn't die on the way back to his home planet like Poochie! He's stuck in Shibuya using Paypay like everyone else! MASSIVE MASSIVE FAKE OUT JUST TO TOY WITH EVERYONE'S FEELINGS IN THE FINAL 10 MINUTES OF THE SHOW OH MY GOD.

But I'm not mad because it got me good. I was like 😭 at every turn, then he just doesn't go and it's like y'know what? That's cool. I'M JUST GLAD HE'S HERE OK.

The problem with the idea of sending Kongming "back" is that, well, he died in the past. The first thing he does in the present is check his pulse and he's alive now, so given he's not a ghostly presence or anything there isn't any real "going back" to be had for Kongming imho. He's just some ojii-san in the city now and I couldn't ask for more. He did finally make peace with the presence of Liu Bei and his failures in the past, now he's purely living that Shibuya life and the drama is entirely open to a movie or sequel.

The ratings weren't great so I'm not sure that will happen, but I am just truly happy that we got these 10 episodes of television. The production values were high, the cast were excellent and the writing fleshed out the manga story beautifully. The whole concept is absolutely absurd and these last couple of episodes felt somwhat rushed, but the drama approaches everything so earnestly that it's hard not to get swept up in it all.

So now I have to go try and sleep without dwelling on all the sad Kongming faces I just had to endure.

😭😭😭

[atsukawolfcat]

Venti's Strength

SO HELLO AGAIN WITH ANOTHER THEORY AND YUP ITS VENTI'S THIS TIME and its a bit of a doozy and I am half alive atm

Spoiler Alert? Genshin Lore and Stuffs, mostly a delulu person blabbering while they can on their phone.

So I can't sleep (its 4AM after an ER visit so hahahaaaaaa nothing major though just a precaution for anyone reading this and wondering) and I was going through TikTok when I saw this little video pop up

I have a theory (a GAME theory lool no jk AHEM). And as some of the comments pointed out (and a bit on the video) here are some facts:

1. Nahida states that an Archon's power derives from "faith" rather than "rule"

2. Venti's Gnosis was the shape of a Queen chesspiece, which is the most powerful piece on the board.

3. Only Venti self proclaimed as the weakest of the Archons

So I will go through each one by one to do a mini "share my thoughts" while I still have em. And a little disclaimer before I go ahead, I not an avid chessplayer and I have yet to finish Sumeru's AQ (still catching up on it, been lazy about tbh but its a WIP) and I don't really remember Nahida saying this on MY game yet so I will just discuss what I have observed. Dang I really do need a refresher on everything

ANYWAY, first is Nahida's comment. There is a LOT going on for this one, much more than the story of "ruling is power". So lets say that being an avid or active ruler of your city is what give you power, then as we know, Venti should definitely be near the end of his life because he DOESN'T rule. He hates the idea of ruling or mainting power over his city, and with his history with rulers I don't blame him. There was a whole war he had participated in after his creation/birth in which he was going against the ruling parties, the nobles and the royal family of that time as an extension. He supported the common folk, in which was his best friend of which he took his appearance after now to live in his memory. Having any rule after that cruel loss is not something I would ever want to take a part of, so he remained as a silent guide and protector of the new Mondstadt. If he did indeed "rule", he would have never had any power. From just his backstory alone, we get the feeling he has not ruled over Mond at all, just guided them and gave the people the tools to be self sufficient, which for old Mond, was sweet freedom. So more support for Nahida's statement, as we all know that the people from his city have VERY strong faith in him still after generations.

Second, his Gnosis. So I am not a chess player and at best, a complete novice. So I goggled what was the most powerful chesspiece.

Clear as day, the Queen chesspiece (which reminder, it is the shape of his Gnosis) IS the most powerful. But what fascinates me more is the wording. "There is something inherently satisfying about giving up the strongest piece on the board in order to checkmate the enemy king"? Hmm, as far as I know, there has been no confirmed King piece Gnosis, and its been theorirzed it may be our Cryo Archon that has it. How convenient that he lost it to one of her people. And since I am leaning towards him being the strongest, I am POSITIVE the statement he said "Without a doubt, I am now the WEAKEST Archon in all of Teyvat" was less for our ears and more for someone else. He has power over wind, which we know he uses to project his voice and other abilities. He's lived among humans for hundreds of years, and no doubt he recognized Signora. Very likely knew their plan, stated that he was the weakest to give the go ahead, and let the gnosis be taken for a bigger chess game in motion.

Now for the last one. As far as my memory goes, NO OTHER ARCHON has claimed or supported that Venti is the weakest of all 7(will double check later once the caffeine hits). We have only heard this from him directly, while others just express their annoyance at his current antics or his habits. Would the Traveller ask them about Venti's strength? Very likely, but knowing Venti and the other (known) Archons, none would speak about current Venti since they haven't A. Seen him in many years or B. Have a possible contract to keep their mouths shut (ahem ZHONGLI) or even C. Met him proper. So heres what I think in total:

Venti spoke that outloud for a fatui operative (likely Signora) to proceed with the plan of taking his Gnosis AND its possible he said that to himself since he could only do so much at helping his dear friend, the Unnamed Bard. Very likely has some sort of survivor guilt (based on how hes moving on with the appearance of his friend), and just can't shake off the fact he wasn't strong enough when his friend needed him. Its also why he's so set in helping people move on from people who have passed on (Stanley's story quest). Its something he can do, so why not do it while he has the chance?

OOOOO this was a long one, but I hope this gives some food for thought. I am a firm believer that Venti is still one of the strongest if not THE strongest of all the Archons in term of raw power. Thank you for coming to my late night/early morning Tedtalk lol now off to sleep with the wolfcat

[ethaninthewilde]

my experience with top surgery

with Dr. Lisa Friederich in Sydney, Australia

because i needed to write about this beautiful, ethereal experience, even though I do not think I can do it justice in words.

so i had pedicle top surgery with dr. lisa friederich at hunters' hill hospital three days ago and it went as amazing as I ever could have hoped. incredibly beautiful results that have me made me cry with happiness multiple times.

I went in at 8am, the surgery lasted about 4 hours and I woke up about two hours after. i was pretty wiped but my boyfriend was there when i woke up and he just kissed me and i went back to sleep. i woke up again about seven hours later, probably with a 2/10 pain, but that's as bad as my pain has been this whole time and i've been prescribed oxycodone to take as needed (no more than one per four hours) with panadol and that's worked wonders. the drains were attached and there was a little more fluid than i was expecting but that was okay. the nurse came in to take my blood pressure, temperature, oxygen levels, and check my drains. i took some oxycodone and was asleep again in the next hour or so. woke up again around 4am feeling much more myself. managed to walk myself to the bathroom (a big thing for me post-major surgery since I really struggle to walk sometimes) and I saw my chest in the compression binder for the first time. i was so so happy with it being flat and i couldn't stop running my hands over the flat (flat! flat!!!!) surface and i took a lil video of myself and i truly think i will remember that moment forever as the most confident i have ever felt in my body--and i hadn't even seen my actual chest yet.

as euphoric as I was, I was still pretty tired so I went back to bed and called the nurse for some more endone bc I could feel the pain starting to come back. all the nurses that came in the two days I was in the hospital were truly so kind, and so competent and lovely. I did get deadnamed a few times, but I haven't legally changed my name yet so that's what was on my documents, and the nurses who did it all apologised and fixed it so that was wonderful. the nurse took my levels again--everything was fine--and i called my friends who were in different timezones and i cannot describe how it felt to sit with my friends who I'd been talking about getting top surgery with for nearly eight years and now it was just done and my god everything felt so beautiful and it's cliche but everything in life was worth it for these last few days post-op. i had been working toward this surgery for so so long, moved across the country for it, worked four jobs at 15 for it, been homeless for it, had the thought of eventually being able to get this surgery keep me alive for so long when i was alone, depressed, suicidal and self-loathing--and i had finally made it. i finally fucking made it. i was fucking beautiful and i had made it and i finally felt loveable. i finally felt like myself. trans joy is godhood. trans joy is lifesaving. i truly believe this surgery saved my life.

anyways!! i was awake for a few hours until about seven am when i went back to sleep until about 11. my boyfriend was coming to pick me up around 12 after he finished work so i called the nurse in to let her know and she gave me some more endone and removed my first drain. this felt very weird, like a tube was being pulled from the top of my chest through the side, almost alien-like, and i felt a little dizzy and lightheaded so the nurse put an oxygen mask on me and laid the bed down for about five - ten minutes until i felt better. she was really patient which was lovely because i get regular seizures and whenever i get dizzy I always get scared one is coming since it's a regular warning sign, but she just let me lie there with my eyes closed and focus on my breathing. at this point my boyfriend had turned up, and he held my hand whilst she took the other drain out, which had considerably less fluid in it.

i saw the surgeon again before I was discharged--and Dr. Lisa is genuinely one of the kindest, well-conducted doctors I have ever dealt with (and I have been in hospital over 35 times in the last 7 months or so). she replaced the top layer of clear dressing over my nipples, and worked a needle through them to de-congest some of the blood, which turned them back to the more-typical pink. she then gave me a fresh binder and gauze pads to take home, along with a box of oxycodone for the pain and told me to book a follow-up appointment with her in the next seven days. she also told me to do regular compressions of the nipple area to continue decongesting the blood over the next few days, which would help with the colour. now this was the moment because i got to take the binder off to do these compressions and i saw my chest for the first time. and truly, truly, truly--the innate, inherent holy shit, that's me feeling that fucking swept through was overwhelming i teared up and almost hugged my surgeon. i didn't have a lot of time to contemplate bc I had to put the binder back on and the nurse came back in with the paperwork and suddenly I was packing up (though they were very kind and said i could stay for as long as I wanted to, if I had any more questions, etc.)

boyfriend made me food when we got home and insisted I go to bed despite feeling completely fine if a bit tired still, so I did and we watched an episode of drag race. we're staying at his parents' place whilst i'm recovering and both of his parents are/used to be nurses so this was a reassurance if anything were to go wrong. i had soup for dinner that night which hurt my throat a little but the main issue is was the massive bruise on the inside of my lip from when i was intubated in surgery (which should go away in the next few days, but to me has honestly been the most frustrating part of this whole recovery). took some panadol and endone and did my compressions. taking off the binder and being able to look at my chest properly for the first time was the most tender moment of my entire life, with ethan whispering "you're so beautiful" and "baby, you made it" and "look at you, love, holy shit" into my ear and into my shoulder as i sat there, completely exposed, completely vulnerable, bandaged, and completely myself for the first time in my life. i think i spent about 45 minutes just going back and forth between him and the mirror, laughing and crying and laughing and just being so indescribably euphoric and overcome with it all. i'd finally made it. here, right now, even with all my unresolved medical issues and trauma and fears, i had everything i had ever wanted and it was real. it was REAL. i do not think i will ever feel that strong of a sense of peace and contentness again in my life. in that moment i felt unbreakable. in that moment i felt invincible, indestructible, fucking untouchable. i fucking made it, and no one could take that away from me. no one, nothing, ever. i had saved my life. i had saved my own life. i was here and i was real and i was finally myself. how do i explain this? i cannot keep repeating this but it seems the only way. lord, if only you could feel the godhood i have been given. the power i have in my hands. the power this body has.

it took me too long to realise how beautiful this trans body of mine is. but i am here now. i am never letting go.

dr. lisa friederich: i think you saved my life. thank you for bringing me back. thank you. thank you. thank you. i finally made it.

[i will add to this over the next few days, but right now i need to go back to sleep. i love you all]

[britcision]

Y’know what it’s 4am and I am In Pain while my doc thinks I can just “go to bed earlier” so I’m gonna tell you about the Dhurfucks

I love the Dhurfucks

That’s their last name

It came from a name generator so I’m not responsible for it

They are two of my NPCs from my homebrew world’s previous Level 20 Fight (because it’s a magical world and the players are not the first people to stir shit up, worlds need Legends)

And the Dhurfucks? The Dhurfucks are legends

The Dhurfucks are more legendary than the rest of their most recent adventuring party but to be fair, they are also at least 600 years older than most of those whipper snappers

The Dhurfucks are so legendary that the entire island continent they came from has been renamed to reflect What They Have Done

The Dhurfucks are a pair of dwarf twins, Hudran (he/him) and Guthrun (she/her)

Guthrun is a warlock of Freyr

Hudran is a passion cleric of Freya

They may or may not trade off on deities occasionally because if anyone can get in on some good twins bullshit, it is Freyr and Freya

Now, how do a pair of dwarfs get themselves legendary status in a world that, again, is magical and has had plenty of bullshit done before?

Well, you have to do your bullshit harder. With more vigour. And subvert every expectation of society, with precise timing so as not to get yourself killed

They’re in their 700s. They’ve got it down to an art, and are fucking hard to kill

The rest of their previous party have all retired now, settled down throughout the world and let themselves fade from the limelight (mostly) in the aftermath of their big godfight 130 years ago

The Dhurfucks wished them well, visit regularly, gamble for the paladin’s kids in bars, and kept right on fucking trucking

Because when a level 20 warlock/cleric combo roll up on your city and decide to have a god-off in the undead swamp outside, there isn’t a lot you can (or should) do about it

(Freyr leant divine energy for the god off, but the cleric won for obvious Destroy Undead reasons)

It is possible that before they reached around level 17 the Dhurfucks had to restrain themselves and behave, but again, since it’s been 130+ years since then, those days are a distant memory

These days, they are the only members of Former Hero Party Rolling Thunder (fuck the trucker convoy I had the name first and I’ll give it up when I die and not before) that everyone is completely sure is still alive because You Still Hear Stories

(The paladin specifically is assumed dead for tragedy reasons and one of her kids is a PC)

The Dhurfucks drink. They party. They have a pretty Cohen-the-barbarian relationship with gold; it’s very easy to come by when you’re an official Hero, and easy to spend out to every town you come across and boost the economy of bars, shops, and varying entertainment

They do not hold on to money, they are the siphon through which it passes

Sometimes they will be hired escorts. Sometimes they will be paid not to come to certain places or events. Sometimes they Planeshift and go bother all the other dimensions for a while and people quietly hope they have stopped

They have not stopped

They will not stop

They are simply putting the Fear of Dhurfucks into everyone else as well

Dwarfs live a long time, and they see no reason not to have as much fun as is physically possible for the entirety of that time, and their patrons? Well, they’re fertility gods

They’re all about the good times, and spreading the bounty of wealth

And if that includes a little showmanship, the occasional truly stupid stunt to see what will happen, that is all party of the bounty of life

They’ll fight dragons in their underwear. They’ll head butt beholders for fun. And if only one of them dies, the other has a way to bring them back and no one’s managed to get both at once yet

They’re adrenaline junkies but past a certain level actual danger and the ensuing adrenaline rush is pretty hard to come by, so the stories just get bigger and bigger, and they will egg each other on to make it worse

Half the stuff they try and do is actually impossible, and they fail

However, when what you are trying to do is “hold the moving island in place and make it move backwards”, even fucking trying leads to a great story, no matter how much everyone knows how it ends

It’s whether or not people noticed the heartbeat when the movement stuttered

The Dhurfucks are big, ridiculous personalities in dwarf sized glasses to give my players something to aspire to, and they’re so much fun to dot around the world

None of the players have asked about them yet

None of them know what is coming

The Dhurfucks will find them soon

After all, their dear little nephew is travelling with the party, and it’s been too long since their last visit. Poor kid was kidnapped 11 years ago

[mocha-moth]

thanks for the tag @ossified-hypothesis !!!

Current Things

3 Ships: shiguang (cheng xiaoshi and lu guang from link click) are. my biggest most brainrotting ship rn. I love them so very very much and I am absolutely not normal about them in any way. itafushi (yuji itadori and megumi fushiguro from jujutsu kaisen) I am also currently utterly insane about them, especially currently making my way through the manga. wangxian (wei wuxian and lan wangji from the untamed/mo dao zu shi) because they just keep coming back I love them so much I've gone through like 3 phases of being mad about them. honorary shout out to renga (reki kyan and langa hasegawa from sk8) bc I love them too very much

Last Song: turbulence from the link click soundtrack!! I've been listening to that soundtrack a lot it's very nice!

Currently Reading: in terms of physical books, mo dao zu shi, I'm about halfway through book 3! it's such a good series. online I'm reading the jujutsu kaisen manga (I'm yet to read 180+) and losing my mind about it, and also I started omniscient reader's viewpoint yesterday that I'm 18 chapters into. loving it so far, kim dokja my beloved.

Last Movie: I think it might have been jujutsu kaisen 0? very good movie, hurt me deeply, I Would Die For Yuta Okkotsu

Currently Watching: sk8 the infinity I am very close to finishing, link click for the second time, and I'm gonna start given once I finish sk8. also this exact second I'm watching dylan woebegonepod stream :DD

Currently Craving: honestly I'm not sure :O nothing edible. probably sleep, because I did not sleep until gone 4am last night

Currently Consuming: bowl of cereal! got snacky! I love cereal! in terms of media i'm not watching or reading, I'm catching up on malevolent podcast bc I got a few chapters behind oops, I also need to listen to the new find us alive episode. and I'm playing sky cotl.

tagging!!: @inactivemcgee @kittvampic @vizzyfitzroy @bardicwanderlust @strawberryking @ty-bayonet-betteridge @mxinferno @pride-dragon42 if you wish to participate, also anyone else who wants to!!

[justheretoreadfanfictions12]

The Love You Want - Part 8

Sleep Token Fanfiction - Green

The night after the concert, I sleep in Jax's room without having to sneak in when the others are sleeping. I just walk into the room with him. I hold his hand. I kiss him. I wear his hoodie. It's too good to be true. But when the sun sets & darkness surrounds us, I can feel him breaking apart next to me. I can feel his demons haunt him when he tries to rest. I wake up at 4am, the room is dark, everything is quiet except for his breath. He breathes heavily, almost choking, like there's no air in the room, like all oxygen has been drained from his lungs. He gets up, opens the door to our balcony, grabs a pack of cigarettes & disappears into the night. I get up quietly & follow him. I see his tall frame leaning against the railing, watching the city, inhaling the cigarette smoke. I don't say a word but grab the pack from his hands to light myself a cigarette too. He doesn't ask any questions, he has never seen me smoke but he seems to just accept that I'm joining him in his mid night smoke break. After a few minutes he says: "I have terrible nightmares when I manage to fall asleep. I have had them since I was a child". He sounds exhausted, the sleep deprivation is draining him. "I used to have them too." I say. "I used to dream about my own death. Falling from a tall building, drowning, burning, being buried alive. I sometimes still have them". He lays his hand on mine. "I always have the same dream. Waking up in a hospital bed, surrounded by my family. They speak to me but I can't answer. They touch me but I can't move. Then I realize I'm dead. I can't tell them how sorry I am. I can't tell them that I couldn't take the pain anymore. They could never understand why I did it. They could never understand how torn apart I am. I feel like I'm not even human anymore, Iris. I feel like I'm a shell filled with anger, trauma, pain, lost in this world. I didn't even remember what happiness felt like until I held your hand." he says. I know that he had tried to take his life, I know that he barely survived. "You are more than a shell, Jax. You are so much more." I say. He pulls me close, squeezing me into him. Then he takes a last inhale of his cigarette, throwing it off the building.

He crashes his lips on mine, holding my neck with his strong hands. He manages to pull his lips away just to say: "I don't feel like talking about this right now, I'd rather distract myself by making love to you, Sugar". He pushes me against the wall behind us, his fingers find their way beneath my shirt. His kiss is so aggressive, yet his hands are so gentle. Trailing the tattoos on my chest, drawing circles around my nipples, squeezing my breasts. "I'm begging you to get on your knees, please." he says. The tone of his voice makes my body tingle. He is literally begging for me. I won't give in so easily. "I'm not convinced. That's not enough." I say. He sighs. I can feel his lust & frustration build up. He gets on his knees slowly. Kneeling in front of me, he raises his hands & says: "Iris, I'm begging you to cleanse me with pleasure". He's using his own song texts to make me weak & it works. "Get up." I tell him. He seems to enjoy my sudden dominance. I push him against the wall, then I get down, kissing his chest, licking the line of fine hair down to his stomach. I feel his body shiver beneath my tongue. I dig my nails into his thighs as I bite into his boxers. He is hard, harder than I have ever seen him. I pull his shorts down, revealing his huge erection. I spit in my hand, then I slowly stroke him. Just the tip. He moans. Then I tighten my grip, stroking down to his shaft, holding my hand there while now licking the tip. I can feel him growing even harder, I didn't think that was possible. I take his hands, guiding them to my head, signaling him to hold it & use is as he pleases. He moans loudly as he pushes himself deeper into my mouth. It takes all my self control to be able to take him in. Suddenly he stops, pulling me back on my feet. "I love fucking your mouth, but I would much rather fuck you pussy." he says. His voice is deeper than usual. His eyes are darker. He almost seems like a different Jax, but I like this version of him. He pulls me back into his room, pushing me down on his bed, quickly tearing my shirt & panties off of my body. "I wanted to make you cum with my head between your legs but I can't wait. I can't wait another second to feel you." he growls. Then he is on top of me, his elbows next to my head, I have never felt him this close. "Look into my eyes when you push yourself into me" I say. He sighs, he's like a wild animal watching his prey, ready to attack any second. His eyes are locked with mine when he enters me. His expression changes, this moment seems to be all he has been waiting for, he adores me, he adores the feelings I give him. His hips are so close to mine, the friction between them combined with slow deep thrusts drive me crazy. My lips find his, I moan into his mouth, my hands hold on to his back tightly. We both can't take it for long, after about 10 thrusts my body shivers, my eyes roll back, my voice cracks at my loud moan, which turns him on even more. "I can feel your pussy pulsing on my dick, it makes me want to fill you up." he says. Then I feel him cum, he warms me up from inside, he buries his head in my chest, his breath stops for a few seconds.

Jax falls asleep next to me, breathing calmly, his head on my lap, his hands holding my thighs. How can one man be filled with so many different personalities? With so many emotions? I adore him. I adore that he needs me. I adore that I'm the only one who can truly make him rest, make him laugh, make him burst with lust.

The next morning we wake up early & super tired. We shower & get ready for the day. It's quite warm outside so I throw on some black jeans shorts, a black top & one of Jax's hoodies. A black one with dark red roses on the sleeves. I have to tuck it into my shorts because it's almost a dress for me. He's so tall, his clothing is just huge. He looks at me in awe. "My hoodies look way better on you." he says. I turn around, the sight surprises me. He is wearing a black pair of pants with little white stripes, a white shirt & a dark green hoodie on top. I have never seen Jax wear anything that isn't completely black. "Who are you & what have you done to my Jax?" I ask jokingly. He smiles, his smile is genuine, it's heartwarming. "My Jax." he repeats. "I could get used to that. I'm your Jax now." I blush. "So I'm not just your groupie?" I ask. He shakes his head. "You never were. I admit I used to have some groupies here & there, years ago. But it never gave me what I was looking for. It left me even emptier. It was meaningless. I felt drained after talking to a woman, talking to anyone but Alex, Dan or Ryle. Nobody has ever felt like you, Iris. I'm your Jax. I swear I want to be nothing but your Jax. I want to be Vessel & I want to be your Jax. I was in the mood for some color today cause you bring color to my life ". He takes a step towards me, his hands cup my face. He looks at me, his silver eyes burn their way into my soul. I could look at him forever, drowning in his eyes, breathing in his smell. "Are you my Iris?" he asks. No words come out of my mouth, I just stand there crying like a baby. I nod. "Yes, I'm your Iris if you promise to be my Jax. No matter what happens. I love your dark side, I love your bright side, I won't ever leave you hanging when you need me." I say, my voice breaks, tears fall from my face. "I love you." he says. Hugging me tightly, I push my face into his chest, my hands hold on to the back of his hoodie. "I love you, Jax." I say.

He never lets go of my hand. He never misses a chance to look into my eyes. He holds doors for me. He carries my coffee. He demands me to stay seated & gets everything I want for me. Alex looks at us with big question marks in his eyes. "What in hell has happened to Jax?" he asks me. I shake my head & laugh. "I don't know. He's just in a good mood." I say. Ryle reaches our table & turns at Alex. "Is he wearing green? GREEN? Something is off today." We all laugh. Then something so unusual happens, that we all laugh even harder. Jax sits down, hands me my coffee, looks at us laughing & joins in. A genuine laugh leaves his body. His cheeks turn a little red. He squints his eyes, looking us up & down, then he asks: "What are we laughing about?". Ryle smiles at him & says: "Nothing, brother. We are just happy". Jax nods. He nods with a little smile on his face, sipping his coffee & holding my hand beneath the table. We all seem so normal, so free of worries, just 5 friends having breakfast together. Just for a second, I forget who he is, who I am, that I should only do their marketing, that he's a literal celebrity whose identity is unknown to the world. We are just ourselves, that's it.

[gaywiththesauce]

Hi hello sorry it’s not Wednesday anymore BUT. I remember you saying at one point that you were listening to your Giyuu playlist? (am I remembering right?) and I’m. so unbelievably normal and was wondering what your top 5 songs you associate with Giyuu are. Or top 10. Or top one million. Ok thank you sorry goodbye again_(:3 」∠)_

Hi Rose👋!! welcome back to my dropbox lmao

okok so so I don't remember saying that but it's totally possible that I did. I think about blorbo a lot so I think I mentioned it

These won't be very descriptive because many of the songs are just related to emotions or specific scenarios so you'll have my 4am ramblings. lil warning, I'm a swiftie, but I have a variety of other different music tastes too. here's my top 20ish because I'm obsessed with my blorbo Giyuu Tomioka the Queen

Telephones by Vacations - "my thoughts are crawling, you're all I see" "wherever I go, you'll always be next to me" has massive brain rot energy :) he only sees his love(s) everywhere

Verbatim by Mother Mother - I kinda perceive Giyuu as someone that doesn't conform to gender norms (totally not projecting) but he would totally be unapologetic for his expression. maybe a lil oblivious but not sorry

First Love/Late Spring by Mitski - the lyrics speak for themselves of anxiety that he can't love anyone else because he's too scared to lose them. "please, hurry, leave me, I can't breathe. please don't say you love me."

Long Live (TV) by Taylor Swift - this song is specifically for my fantasy prince/knight au I made and fully fleshed out with Minecraft building and shit. the idea of happy fluffy marriage makes me giggle

Gilded Lily by Cults - self explanatory. sad song. "haven't I given enough?" "always the fool with the slowest heart" (help please he has the slowest heart because his way of communicating isn't verbal and only a very select few understand-)

Daylight by Taylor Swift - "I once believed love would be burning red, but it's golden, like daylight" kyogiyuu energy, first impression of Kyojuro's "burning red" but it turns out he's a soft "golden"

Screaming by CHVRCHES - beautiful song. it talks about the past and how time has been stolen. not knowing what side of the coin you're on and if it's wrong or not. good vibes song to look out the window to

New Year's Day by Taylor Swift - SUCH A GOOD MESSAGE SONG! it's all about the tranquility that comes with love and life, how the couple would be there for not just the fun moments but the calm or hard or maybe boring moments. also "please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere"

Money by The Drums - Giyuu would totally want to give back to the world he believes he's stolen from (he's still alive, which is something that he stole from others-) but he has nothing else to give other than hard training and killing demons, saving people when he can

Open Your Eyes by Snow Patrol - this one I can't really explain. the build up and release just kinda speaks for itself. it's cathartic and makes you want to jump up and down and rip an air guitar

Don't Let Go by The Ghost Club - "I'm falling off the edge but you never ever let go" another relationship one! who woulda guessed? again, love that lasts because love is not all sunshine. it rains and pours and you have to get an umbrella. very fun to listen to!

The Mute by Radical Face - this was shown to me by a beautiful moot when my one ficlet reminded them of it. it makes sense! "if you only listen with your ears, you can't get in [my head]" (your fic today reminded me of this song too and i listened to it again after reading tehe)

Nightmares by CHVRCHES - "Another poem designed for revenge. Now I'm living a nightmare again, and it won't end.

Black Out Days by Phantogram - gives me remembering Sabito vibes. So painfully thinking of him but trying to forget him and keep that part of his mind away from now but it doesn't want to stay away. He isolates himself from his memories that he "[doesn't] even recognize [Sabito's] face"

I miss you, I'm sorry by Gracie Adams - it's less of the lyrics and more the vibes. i just kinda really like this song. "I still love you, I promise" to Sabito---

Become the Warm Jets by Current Joys - listen listen ok hear me out: slow song, sad voice, sad song, Giyuu-themed? totally feel canon with "All my life is just something I can't ignore."

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant to Be by Jess Benko - wow. sad angst sad song about regret because wow. just angst.

Young by Vacations - dissociation central. not knowing how things are moving and wanting things to be right and okay. that childhood innocence of want everything (read: Sabito) to be his

i love you by Billie Eilish - Giyuu being in denial of everything. How could Kyojuro say that he loves him? How could he open up so easily to Kyo? "the smile that you gave me even when you felt like dying" FFUCCK

Dress by Taylor Swift - this is that song when the pairing finally gets together after a 20K slow burn. smiles. "Carve your name into my bedpost 'cause I don't want you like a best friend."

A Love Song by Ladyhawke - happy upbeat love song. Imagine running through a crowd, holding hands, laughing and giggling as Kyo pulls Giyuu along to show him something he's excited about

I didn't mean for this to be this long (this was originally 10) but now you have 2/3 of my Giyuu playlist! I accidentally deleted my Giyuu playlist like four months ago so I'm building from the ground up unfortunately😭

I hope this satisfies your curiosity! Enjoy listening if you do!

[cielsosinfel]

I'm saving all the Act 3 Bhaalspawn revelation dialogue here for my own future reference, don't mind me.

(spoilers for BG3? does anyone following me here care about that.)

also brief incest mentions

I have a lot of thoughts about all this that I am too sleepy to ramble about right now as it is nearly 4am, but. "Your Father loves you dearly"... "You were their master, and he was yours. A cruel master... a devoted father"...... hello. hello!!!!!!!! HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE DADSON GURO NONCON WRITES ITSELF! HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Also Ast trying to bond and relate with Durge over their grotesque daddy issues :")!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I actually redid my save and changed my dialogue option with Astarion- the first time, when he asks "ready to throw yourself in an oubliette?" I picked "The pit, definitely the pit." and his response was not nearly as emotional. BUT! He does talk about how he was alive (in a sense) for the last Bhaalspawn popping up in Baldur's Gate (BG1 & 2's protagonist), and how he didn't get to see the action himself due to spending the early years of spawnhood in the kennels. Turning that over in my mind.

[vegtable-bucket]

This is a very long and self indulgent vent post. Feel free to disregard and tw for sucidial ideation. I am currently seeking help but I needed to vent.

So 2023 I think is the official worst year of my life. I thought as the years went on life would like.... get easier??? But no lmao it somehow gets progressively harder and I feel like I am completely drowning and suffering at every turn. I will essentially plan a little treat for myself and that treat will then turn into like a comical death trap of some sort. I feel like whoever is controlling my sim is trying to torture me.

I'm just going to list the terrible things that I've had to deal with since I have what 5 months left of this year to claw my way through?

My cat was diagnosed with cancer. That cancer spread so rapidly in the span of one week, I got her diagnosis on her last day on earth.

Prior to this, she was puking 3 times a day and so I was cleaning up puke and sobbing over her for a month striaght

Vet bills

The doctor who did the biopsy of my cats cancer didn't relay how severe her cancer was causing me to have to spend 5 hours in the the ER. I was separated from my cat during those 5 hours. My phone was on 1%. Ready player one was my only entertainment. Many dogs got checked before my blood puking cancer ridden cat. The person at the front desk said "we only treat several emergencies first." Meaning vomiting blood isn't urget............. wild.

Obviously I had to put my cat down. She was 7 years old. I miss Pirate everyday. I used to call her an angel from outerspace, now she's really sailing around up there.

I had to do this without my husband present because he was at.... his grandma's funeral in England. I couldn't go because I was taking care of our dying cat. I find this to be an especially twisted fate since he left right before I had a psychotic break due to all the stress

I got covid. And I got it like a month ago in the middle of the summer. This ate away at my travel time making it so I couldn't see one of my friends in portland.

I got exposed to covid over the weekend and if I get sick again my job will take my remaining 3 days off. This is my last year in America and if those days are taken from me I won't be able to see my family for the holidays

I dont get to leave this hell country this year after excitedly telling everyone I was out of here. Embaressing.

Every single trip I have planned this year has been a complete disaster

I either didn't get to see the friend I planned to see, or my time with that friend was limited to reasons outside of either of our control leaving me to feel completely isolated, lonely and like nobody's priority or important friend (even though that's irrational)

I've had an issue with almost every single flight I've taken this year. Will it be delayed or canceled making me have to take the flight that makes it so arrive home at 4am? The answer is always yes!

My job had revealed itself to be a toxic work enviornement before but it continues to worsen.

My job makes me want to kill myself, like actively. I've had the worst suicidal ideation of life since I was 13 and having to visit my abusive and neglectful father

Somehow, at 27, all of my trauma seems to be bubbling up in the worst possible way and nobody in my support system is close to me right now/alive.

Guess what? In an ironic twist of fate applying to jobs also makes me want to kill myself and I find to be a dramatic waste of time.

My husband and I set up trips around this time of year which made it so when his grandmother died, he will have seen me once in the span of 4 weeks. Meaning the only person who I can mourn the loss of my cat with is gone. I will be coming home to an empty house when I return tomorrow and my depression is not making it easy to take care of myself

Living in America has never seemed more dystopian. My rights are simply withering away while inflation stacks up. It's been an expensive year by itself but the recession isn't helping

I feel completely lost on what I want to do with the rest of my life. I want to be financially stable (as I am lucky enough to be now) but I'm unsure of my future in england. I don't know if I really should pursue my masters because I feel my entire body aching to do something I enjoy and I have no idea if I'll ever be able to work in a field that improves people's lives and doesn't make me want to kill myself

I will never be mentally emotionally or financially stable enough to have kids. Having them seems terrifying to me. I cry for my younger self imagining her life and how unfair the world was to her, and wondering why I was born if not to suffer

I can barely focus on anything in my life anymore. I feel like my attention span has stopped working and I can only do a task for 15 minutes before feeling exhausted

Crippling weed dependency

I can't remember the last time I felt geniunely happy. If I spend anytime not listening to something or distracting myself my brain is essentially torturing and harassing me and telling me the many ways in which I should kill myself

I cannot afford a grippy sock vacation to make me not kill myself. I feel like I'd want to be there for a whole month and that's probably like 800k and would mean losong my job lmao

Having to wait for life to improve slowly on its own is agonizing to me as I really just want to leave America as quickly as I can to get away from it all. And then I remember all the things and people and places I will miss and I get this unearthly ache of sadness.

I'm also not blind and know terf island (england) is also doing remarkably terrible and I will be moving to a very xenophobic country far away from the familiar.

Everything that happens on the news now makes me fully believe I'm living in a dark comedy about a species that is run by a group of people so greedy that they are racing to extinction

*gestures widely at the state of everything*

I visited my dad's side of the family without nick (husband) present and not only did they bully and antagonize me the entire time, but they also said the most off the wall insanely racist shit I've ever heard in my life. So vile i was physcially ill after interacting with them. But I have to keep up appearances for my future wedding.

I want to cut them out of my life so fucking bad it's unreal. My mom is begging and pleading with me to not do it but being around such vile people makes me physically ill.

This things I used to love now feel distant and boring to me now. I feel like it's so hard to laugh at anything anymore

The real kicker for this is I always pack period items just in case, and I didn't for once and now I am dealing with painful cramps at 3am away from ibprofin and like all of civilization

Okay that's it. I hope none of you read this it's incredibly self indulgent and pitying. I feel as though I've never been allowed to be sad and it's all bubbling up this year and suffocating me. And then people keep telling me to not kill myself which makes me feel guilty for wanting to end it all in the first place. I've always hated asking for help, I hate people feeling sorry for me, I hate struggling. I've never even attempted because im too chickenshit.

Can't wait to share this post in therapy. Which I won't be able to afford for awhile.

I miss feeling joy.