#the innocent lives that are lost are not lost on me

[beardedjoel]

indebted

dark!joel x f!reader. one shot.

summary: you're having a bad day. one you think is getting better once a rough around the edges man comes to your rescue. you didn't expect it would takes such a sharp turn for the worse. first person pov reader. 9.2k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! NON CONSENUAL SEXUAL ACTS, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, pervy, sleazy, and foul mouthed joel. degradation, sexual favors, forced oral and piv, virgin reader, corruption, innocence, and daddy kinks featured. biiig ol' age gap (reader's age not mentioned other than "young" but i imagine her as 18-20 as she has a relatively immature attitude, imagining joel 50-55), this is not for everyone and that's okay. i'm not responsible for the content you consume.

a/n: i had some hormonal induced insanity and came up with this. i had a great time trying out a new pov for writing fic! enjoy him as much as i did, friends 🖤 and thanks @joelstummy for the amazing freaky beta work!

I’ll be the first person to admit now that what I’ve been doing is stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. The list goes on. I can hear my father’s stern, militant voice in the back of my head, telling me as much. Except now he likely won’t get the chance to relish in it because I’m going to die here. Way out here where nobody will find my body, and I’ll be just another person that went missing in the QZ, never to be seen again. But this time, it’s not some sleazy FEDRA scheme and coverup or a smuggling deal gone wrong.

It’s utterly and completely my fault.

Sneaking out wasn’t meant to become a habit, but after the first few times, I lost the fear and adrenaline that had burned hot through my veins at those first steps of freedom. I craved it again, so I kept going further. And further. Away from civilization as I knew it, until the cluster of buildings known as the Quarantine Zone became a tiny speck in the distance. Out here was desolation, nothingness, only abandoned buildings to explore. The infected were another story, but I started to learn routes that helped me avoid encounters with them.

It helped clear my mind after a while, this newly found sense of adventure. All I’d ever known was a cage, a walled city that had become so mundane I felt my insides starting to rot from the listlessness of it all. My father was important - top in the rankings - I knew that, and it was all the more reason to keep me safely locked away while the city stirred with chatter of an uprising against FEDRA. 

He never bothered to check on me much, anyways, making my little forays quite easy. Once I’d persuaded enough people with ration cards, they’d shown me the tunnel leading to freedom. Well, that tunnel, then another, a ladder to climb back up to the surface, and only then could I go through a precarious hole in a chain link fence. That was the smuggler’s route, they said, an easy ticket to getting in and out without being noticed. 

I’d been abusing it, staying out for days at a time, never able to drink in enough of this quiet solitude that was of my own choosing, not my father’s. I couldn’t quite figure out what hole inside of me I was trying to fill, but I’d be damned if I stopped trying.

However, today seemed to be my last chance to try at all. His footsteps had been quiet - so quiet - approaching behind me. An old store, full of half decayed plushies, molded candies, and other adorable things from lives long put in the past, had called to me, distracted me. The arm around my throat, constricting, the other coming up to put a hand over my mouth. A dirty, putrid smell encompassing everything as I sputtered against him. This is it, I’d thought. What a waste.

I scream and fight against the strong hold he has on me, a nasty sneer right against my skin. “What’s some fresh meat like you doing waaaay out here, huh?” a dark voice rattles into my ear.

I scream behind his dirty palm in response, kicking my legs back at him. I should have learned more self defense, but who needs it when you’ve spent most of your life safely tucked away with your family name as your biggest protector?

“You smell good… real good…” The creep’s voice buzzes by me as he takes a deep breath in, making me shudder. One swift kick and I’m sure this is it, the one to knock him senseless and let me escape. He’s smart for how distracted he seems to be by my scent, and he’s one step ahead of me. My legs are kicked out from underneath me as I rear one back, and I fall to the ground, the man coming down with me to sit on my back, straddling my body in a fluid motion. He grips my hands behind my back, leaving me helpless in my fight, kicking and screaming. I’m ice and heat all at once, my body burning in a frozen blaze, my fight or flight quickly turning to fawn as his weight presses down on me.

“You can have anything in my backpack, anything! Please, let me go! I - I don’t want any trouble,” I choke out pathetically, hating how my voice comes out in shaky waves. This isn’t how to appeal to people like this, people who have lost their sense of humanity, evident by the way he’s now grinding himself down onto my jean clad asscheeks. 

A laugh comes out of him that would haunt me as evil incarnate for the rest of my days if I wasn’t so sure that I was going to die at the hands of this man after he was done with me. “We both know I don’t give a fuck about any damn backpack of yours. I don’t want any trouble either, sweet cheeks, I just think you’d have a lot of fun with me and my friends. But mostly me,” he replies with the hint of a wink in his voice. 

My stomach clenches, sickness rolling in that is only furthered as the man leans down, cloaking me with his large form. I can’t turn enough to see him, to even know what this violation of a man looks like, but his energy is beyond hideous as I catch a glimpse of his yellowing teeth in a grin before he pushes my head down to the cracked linoleum tiles. My hair tangled in his fingers, he holds me down hard, and I struggle to breathe as he crushes me beneath him.

“Now, are you gonna come easily, or do I need to do things the hard way? Either way is fine with me, for a fine piece of ass like this. In fact, I might prefer it the hard way, but we’d hate to ruin this pretty skin of yours, wouldn’t we?” He says slowly, pressing the cold blade of a knife to my throat.

“O-okay, okay,” I acquiesce, stopping my squirming, just needing a bit of room to breathe, my lungs heavy inside my chest. My panic only makes my chest tighter, even when the man leans back the tiniest bit. I had hoped that my sudden compliance would get that knife off my throat, but it hasn’t. “Just don’t hurt me… please…” I whimper.

He lets out a long, ragged sigh. “Afraid I can’t promise that.” 

I’ve never felt fear like this, such certainty that I was about to be ruined, my life as I know it changing without a chance to even look back. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for it, for anything he’s about to do next, finally accepting that there isn’t any appealing to scummy men in a scummy world. But nothing comes except for a muffled crack ringing through the air, and then a thud as the entire weight of my adversary falls on top of me, crushing. Something warm has splattered on my skin, my face, then starts to coat my jacket, seeping through. I shake violently, begging my body to catch a full breath under the weight of him. 

Then as suddenly as it happened, it stops, the body yanked off of me and tossed to the side with ease. The deafening thud of his entire weight onto the ground is stark. I flip over and scramble backwards, grabbing the knife that had fallen from the man’s hand in his swift, final moment. Holding up a shaky hand, I grip the knife tightly, looking up to face a brutish, tall man with overgrown hair of chestnut and gray. A trim beard with the same coloring wraps around his tightly set jaw. He’s all wide shoulders, thick arms, broad chest, and my senses go on high alert again. His gun is practically still smoking as it hangs at his side, an active threat.

“Y’alright?” he drawls, thick and deep, echoing through the abandoned shop. One step closer to me has the knife practically flailing as I struggle to calm my hands, a strained hum alongside my shaky breathing the only sound I seem capable of making.

“Put that thing down,” he says calmly, almost exasperated. His stance slackens, one knee pushed out as he sizes me up. I’m likely the most miserable looking thing he’s seen in a while, I’m sure. “You’re harmless.”

“H-how do I know you’re not with him?” I blurt out.

My gruff savior lifts his brows incredulously. “That guy?” he asks, motioning impatiently to the dead body only a foot away. “Think I’d be puttin’ a bullet right in his skull if he was my best buddy?”

My eyes dance over him as I think. He has a point, and he did just save me from whatever debauched things that stranger’s mind had been conjuring up.

“Y-yeah, you have a point,” I finally say. He steps closer, and this time, I let him, putting the knife down. He motions with an authoritarian air for me to push it away, and I obey immediately, flinging it across the room. 

“Poor fucker died with a hard on, didn’t he?” The man muses as his boots thud on the way over to the body, kicking it slightly as if to check, letting it roll back before turning his attention on me. “Now, are you usually this stupid, comin’ into hunter territory, or what?” he asks, reaching a hand down to me, presumably to help me up.

“I didn’t know…” I mumble, letting his hand hang there. He doesn’t snatch it back right away, although I can tell he wants to, that he’s already beyond exasperated by his day and the last thing he’d wanted was a damsel in distress like me. I hate that he’s proving all the things I’d been trying to disprove about myself by coming out on these solo trips into the great, big outside. I’m weak. Dependent. Needy. It makes my skin crawl with self loathing and frustration.

“Didn’t know, huh? So just clueless, then?” the man spits out, staring down at me with darkened eyes that make me turn my head away in shame. At my sullen silence, he seems to soften a little. “I’m Joel,” he says, an offering to go along with his outstretched hand.

I sigh, taking it and telling him my own name. I’m up on my feet, dusting myself off and looking at him shyly now. I don’t know what people are supposed to say when someone saves their life, so I just mumble, “Thank you.”

Joel snorts, nodding in acknowledgment as he crouches to pat down the body, seeming to come up short of anything interesting. “Don’t thank me yet,” he says, standing back to his full, towering height, glancing around with sharp eyes. “We should move.”

I might be as stupid as he says, because I wordlessly start to follow him towards the door. His hand stretches out behind him, open and inviting me in as he checks outside the door with a careful peek, his gun held tightly in the other. I stare down at it in disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he sighs, that perpetual vexation in his tone again as he twitches his brows at me. “Need you close by. An’ it seems you have a tendency to go where you shouldn’t.”

My cheeks grow hot at the harsh truth of it, and I grasp his hand without any further objections, marveling for a moment at the way it envelops mine. All calloused and hard, mine soft and unused for labor of any kind. 

“I’ve got a safehouse not too far from here.”

“A safehouse?”

“It’s already gettin’ dark. There ain’t no way we’re making it back to the QZ today, princess,” he retorts quickly, the pet name mocking on his tongue.

“How’d you know?” I ask softly, disappointment pressing in on my shoulders.

He chuckles out more of a snort, pulling me around a bend, slowly leaving behind the dangerous territory that I’d unknowingly encroached on. “You’re a FEDRA princess if I’ve ever seen one,” he tells me, and my heart sinks that I was so easy to read. I’d seen how capable this man Joel was, but damn was he was astute, more than I’d given him credit for. 

I chew at my lip. “Fair enough,” I mumble under my breath, letting him take his well earned win. The longer I hang onto Joel’s hand, letting him expertly weave me through the barren streets, the safer I start to feel. He knows where he’s going, a practiced route he’s taken countless times, and it hits me then that this man is a smuggler. He has to be.

“Are you a smuggler?” I ask pointedly. “I’ve heard that people like that come in and out of the QZ.”

Joel falters for just a brief second, giving me a wily grin. “Look who’s readin’ who now,” he says with a dry chuckle. “Ain’t gonna run and tell your daddy, are you?”

I shake my head, pressing my lips together in a smile. “I can keep a secret.” In fact, I like keeping secrets from my father, hence the sneaking out, so Joel can count on me to never rat him out.

His amused grin in response lights a little flame akin to friendship inside of me. This grumpy old bastard could smile after all. “Just through here,” he says, letting the smile drop, taking a sharp left down a street just as a sprinkle of rain starts to fall on us. It’s a less urban area - more like a neighborhood - sprouted with apartment buildings and abandoned, vine covered cars. It’s my favorite thing about all the exploration I’ve been doing, seeing the way nature can reclaim anything and make it her own. 

The cracked street below us makes me tread carefully, lagging behind as Joel’s hand tugs me along urgently. We turn down an alley, Joel whipping his head left to right before dragging me behind him, finally dropping my hand to open a door that leads right into a tiny lobby and a stairwell. He runs a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back some - a rather handsome look for him, now that I’m thinking about it. I try to ignore that thought as his voice booms through the empty room.

“Up,” he commands, gripping my hand again and leading us up the stairs. 

My stomach sinks a little when he takes out a key, unlocking a padlock on one of the apartments numbered 405 and pushing the old, chipped door inwards. I have no reason not to trust Joel, he saved my life afterall, but I can’t shake the nerves I feel from being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man. It’s quiet here, likely nobody in the vicinity but the two of us.

“Home sweet home,” he grunts out, dropping his backpack and gun holster near the door and shrugging off his damp jacket, leaving him in a plain tee shirt that hugs his muscular frame. It’s a small, cramped apartment with a living room and kitchen directly next to it, a little window cut into the wall, peering in on the living room from above the stove. It looks as if it’s left exactly as it was years ago, full of furniture and clutter, only a vessel for Joel to use without making it his own at all. I peer past to see a small hallway I can only assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom.

“Know it ain’t the palace you’re probably used to, but we’ll be safe an’ dry here,” he say, and I roll my eyes behind his back. If Joel thinks that I live in a palace, he’s clearly misunderstood the state that the QZ is in. My father’s house is spacious, sure, but it’s just as dilapidated as the rest of the city. The only difference is the level of protection afforded to our homes.

He ambles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a clatter, then comes back moments later with an open can of beans and two forks. I’m still standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do with myself.

“Hungry?” he asks gruffly, and I shake my head, wide eyed. I’d lost my appetite the minute that man had grabbed me earlier, and I couldn’t seem to get it back. Joel shrugs, digging in with a messy forkful of from the can. “Your funeral,” he says, chewing.

Joel sinks down onto the couch with a tiny groan, setting down the can on the side table next to his armrest, giving the other cushion an expectant look. “Well, you gonna sit your ass on down an’ tell me why the hell I had to save it today, or what? Why the hell you’re wanderin’ around like it’s a free for all out there?”

I flinch slightly at his harsh tone, but gingerly step my way into the room, unzipping my jacket and shedding it. For the chill outside, the temperature inside the apartment is more comfortable than I’d expect, my skin welcoming the change. Joel eyes my thin tee shirt, and I feel a flash of heat sweep my skin before I feel the prickle of goosebumps, knowing my nipples are poking through the fabric. His eyes catch there before he promptly averts them.

I sit precariously next to Joel on the loveseat, pressed as far away as I can from him, not wanting to cramp his personal space. But he seems to have no problem with that anyways, his legs spread wide open in a comfortable stance, leaned back against the cushions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment as he awaits my answer. 

“I was… exploring,” I say simply, cringing at how ridiculous it sounds coming out of my mouth. Who leaves perfect safety to wander around in a dangerous world on purpose? For no other reason than curiosity and a sudden, rebellious sense of defiance?

His eyes snap open, head pulling up from the couch, turning my way. “Explorin’…” He mulls on the word, slowly licking his lips before pursing them. “You’re tellin’ me I had to save a FEDRA brat today ‘cause she was explorin’? You really are stupid. ‘Course you are, look how young y’are. Look how fuckin’... sheltered.” Joel throws his hands up, landing them on his thighs with a soft thud, sighing. “Can’t even blame ya.”

I pluck up every bit of courage I have, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, it was really nice of you to save me and everything, and I do thank you for it. I’m sorry if I messed up whatever… smuggling stuff you had going on today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me… stupid.” The last word is quiet, mousy, and I turn my head down, eyes shining with unshed tears that I silently curse myself for. My father’s voice rings through my head - you stupid girl! - making me shudder.

Joel sucks at his teeth. “Hit a nerve, I see,” he says passively. “Alright, I’m sorry kiddo. I just mean, you’re puttin’ yourself at risk doin’ what you’re doin’, and it ain’t a smart idea. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, relaxing a little. “I just needed to get away.”

“From your dear old daddy?” he teases, picking up the can, shoveling several more bites into his mouth. I go silent, picking at a thread on the couch rather than answer him. “Ah, another nerve, I see. Daddy issues. Could’ve guessed that one.”

“I don’t have -”

“Sweetheart…” Joel interrupts, looking at me from under his brows, pulling his lip between his teeth, seeming to look at me in a fresh light. It sends my skin tingling, the way he eyes me, a glint in his stare. It seems to prove his point, the way a pet name from a middle aged man seems to immobilize me against my will. I want to slap the smug look off his face, but I have no grounds to do so, only grumbling quietly with my cheeks blazing in embarrassment. A prickle of something else works its way deep into my belly, something warm at how his scrutinizing eyes flick over my body, the lines in his face set, showing his age, his experience. 

“Take a piece of advice from a man probably as old as your daddy, then. Trust me when I say that outside those walls ain’t the place to find what you’re lookin’ for. The sooner you let go of that notion, the better off you’ll be.” 

Frustration blooms hot in my chest, overpowering whatever the hell that sudden, unwanted feeling was. I’m tired of people dictating what I can and can’t do, what I’m capable of. “People do it all the time - smugglers - you would know,” I retort. “I’ve been doing it for months. Never had a problem until today. It was just some bad luck.”

“Bad luck? Really? You’d be that man’s newest little cock sleeve if it weren’t for me savin’ your ass,” Joel growls, standing up off the couch. I wince at his vulgar language, the picture it paints in my mind of what life might have been like if Joel hadn’t happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“I - I know - I’m sorry,” I blurt out, feeling my hands start to go shaky. “Thank you, Joel, I really - I really do owe you. Everything.”

“Like I said, don’t thank me yet.” He steps over so that he’s in front of me, using his boot to part my legs, scooting them apart and standing between them. “Think I did all this out of the kindness of my heart, did you? Didn’t think that maybe I was after the same damn thing as buddy boy earlier?”

I’m like a fish out of water, the way my lips move with no sound coming out. “Joel…” I breathe out in warning, in questioning. I see his arms strain in his t-shirt, hands flexing open and closed.

“I can’t say the thought ain’t crossin’ my mind now. You are mighty pretty. And you do owe me a favor. One big ol’ gigantic favor, for savin’ your backside.” He brushes his fingers along his jeans, palming his crotch for a brief second before leaning forward, caging me in on the couch with hands on either side of me, pressing into the cushions. My heart hammers in my chest so loud I expect Joel can hear it, can feel the fear taking hold of me. He bares his teeth above me like a wild animal, and now I’m certain he can smell my fear too, that he thrives on it. 

“You know what? Maybe you were bound to find what you were lookin’ for outside those walls. Maybe that’s what you needed, is it? Couldn’t find any love from daddy back home, so you wanted to find someone to turn you into their own personal little play thing. Poor baby just needed some attention, did she? Sad, really.”

My hands tremble, my words lost as I can only breathe in shaky little breaths, shaking my head violently. How can this god forsaken day keep getting worse? 

“Please -” I mumble out, bringing a jittery hand up to my mouth. Joel slaps it away, gripping my chin harshly at first, inspecting me before his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. I’d think it was gentle, caring, even, if not for the nasty look spreading across his face, the grin that darkens it along with his eyes.

“Time to put this pretty thing to better use and show how grateful you are to ol’ daddy Joel,” he says, using his free hand to deftly unbuckle his belt, the jangling sound like a death knell, making my throat go dry. “Promise I’ll be much better than he would’ve been earlier. People say I’m… a generous lover.” His drawl is slow and calculated, voice deep with lust, the sly smirk turning to a triumphant grin as he chuckles, amusing himself.

He grips the top of my head, pushing me to slide down the couch cushions into a slump as I struggle, powerless against a man of his strength. He positions himself higher up to bring the giant denim bulge right in my view. I wince, trying to turn my head away as his zipper comes undone, his hand grasping deep into the fly of his jeans, yanking his cock out. When it springs free, I gasp as he lets it slap me in the face. Hot, throbbing, and massive, leaking a shiny bead of precum that had ended up somewhere on my cheek. I sit stunned and held in place by his rough hand. 

The cold hard fact hits me that this is the first time I’m ever going to experience intimacy of any kind. Hell, I’ve only had one kiss before, and it was when I was ten years old, with a boy belonging to one of my father’s friends, a name I can’t even remember now. The first penis I’m ever seeing is right here, right now, in a context I have had zero control over. It’s thicker than I’d imagined one could be, softer too as I look at the skin of it. Veins run along the sides and bottom, all leading up to an imposing, angry pink head at the tip, practically bursting as it awaits me. It’s magnificent and terrifying at the same time, nothing like what I’d expected based on the half-assed health classes provided by schooling in the QZ. Sex has always had a shroud of mystery for me, and I never imagined that all those secrets, long awaited, would be uncovered like this. A dingy bedroom, a man likely almost three times my age, and me as an unwilling participant. Desperation swiftly grips my chest as I realize I actually have no clue what goes on behind closed doors between two people, and I have a feeling I’m about to find out in the crudest of ways.

The fearful innocence I know is about to be stolen from me causes tears to sting at my eyes, fat little droplets that instantly start to roll down my cheeks, leaking onto Joel’s large fingers still gripped around my chin. I start to struggle, my body seeming to catch up with my mind, loud warning sirens of DANGER! DANGER! finally blaring out in a panic. When I squirm, Joel plants one of his knees into my body, keeping himself balanced while still being able to hold me down. 

“Don’t cry now, honey, it’ll only make him harder.” He sneers as he strokes his cock, slapping the head against my closed lips a few times. He wrenches my jaw down, forcing it open. “Nice ‘n wide for this big boy, there we go,” he says, not waiting a moment longer to barge his cock past the opening while he has it. 

He groans loudly as he shoves several inches in right from the get go, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The hand that had been holding my jaw presses in on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d have nowhere to go, anyways, with his knee on my thighs, his entire body caging me in, the cushions giving me no leeway to the way his cock is forcefully intruding, inch by inch down my throat. The taste is all consuming - a little salty, a little ripe, tasting like days of Joel’s old sweat, but it’s not completely bad, not what I’d have expected. It’s heady in a strange way, clouding my mind as I try to cope with the fullness in my mouth. 

The next moment I sputter, my eyes popping open wide, flooded with tears as he hits the back of my throat. I try to gasp for air and I find that I can’t. This is torture of some form, it must be. Full panic follows, where I try to move, but every avenue is pinned down in some way by Joel’s massive body. I weakly flap at him with my hands but it barely even deters him from rocking his hips in and out, choking me again on the thrust inwards as the back of my throat tightens, gagging around his thick girth. 

“Open up, relax your goddamn throat,” Joel hisses at me, keeping his cock pressed fully to the back of my throat, constricting any airflow I was hoping to have. I finally breathe shakily out of my nose when he pulls back just enough, only to slide it in slowly, his eyes carefully watching me. I glance up for the first time at him from below, hoping to find any shred of humanity he might have for me, but I’m met with an icy, dark gaze clouded with lust, power. 

“Gonna fuck your face now, like the dumb little slut you are. This is what stupid girls get for wanderin’ around by themselves. This is what they ask for.” He punctuates the last words with a sharp thrust inwards, my entire body convulsing with the gag I sputter out around him, drool pooling around my stretched lips. I would whimper if I could, if I even had the air to do so. 

Joel is relentless for the next few moments, rapid thrusts in and out of my mouth, my head held conveniently in place against the couch cushions for him. He groans deeply, his pleasure evident while I’m just trying to get my next breath in. I time them expertly, learning as I go, letting him continue to take from me to gain his own pleasure. 

“That’s it, that’s right, you’re turnin’ into quite the good girl,” Joel mutters above me, rolling his hips with vigor and making me gag again. I can feel drool dribbling down my chin, my neck, landing on my chest, and it makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and a twinge of something else. I can’t tell as Joel grunts, pumping himself in and out of my gruesomely contorted jaw, if the fact that it’s something even remotely sexual has me feeling things I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn hot as my eyes continue to water - how much of it is crying and how much of it is just my body’s response to him hitting the back of my throat, I don’t know.

Then he surprises me by slowing down, languid strokes of his cock in and out with sloppy sounds, a soft hand landing on my head, stroking before bundling my hair in his fist tightly. “Knew you’d have such a filthy little mouth for daddy,” he coos, rolling his hips forward a little further, touching the back of my throat with his cock. 

My body spasms a little when he keeps pushing, grumbling quiet groans of approval. My eyes squeeze shut, leaking out an onslaught of tears. I don’t want to see the aftermath if it ends up that it’s one gag too many and the inevitable happens. But to my surprise, he keeps slipping down, intruding on my throat. I try to keep my trembling body still, wanting to keep my throat relaxed, terrified of what might happen if I fight this. Can a person die this way? Could I really choke to death on this man’s dick? 

“Jesus fuck. Lord have fuckin’ mercy…” Joel breathes out as he pushes even further. “Swallowin’ him down, aren’t ya? Feel me right in here, I bet.” I flinch when he touches his hand to the column of my throat, wrapping his fingers softly around the flesh. When he starts to retreat, the choking is back in a second, but Joel holds me by the throat, keeping my neck craned back, returning to the brutal way he’d been abusing my mouth. I groan and sputter and try to cough through all of it, my mouth stuffed full over and over again before I can get a breath in. 

He’s relentless, and then it stops all at once, his cock popping out from between my lips with a wet, lewd sound. A stream of drool follows, a gush that dribbles down onto my already soaked shirt, and I cough violently, my hands flailing to clutch at my chest. 

As soon as the pressure of Joel’s body lifts off of me, I’m scrambling to somewhere, anywhere else, my limbs stiff and achy, my jaw panging with a soreness I’ve never felt before. He stands in front of me, one hand shooting out to grab the collar of my shirt before I can even get fully off the couch, pulling me close.

“Does it look like you’re done showin’ your gratitude yet?” he growls out, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to look down at his cock, still standing at full attention, shiny and dripping with saliva. I swallow hard, the lump painful on the way down. Joel shakes my head for me, the burn at my scalp making me wince. He presses his hips flush with mine, forcing his erection against my thigh before slipping it between them. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over my face before his lips brush mine.

“You do make a pretty cocksleeve, y’know. Suckin’ cock like a cheap whore, wonder if you take it the same way in your cunt.”

I whimper, shaking my head, the tears non-stop as they roll down my cheeks. “Please… don’t. You don’t have to do this…”

Joel scoffs. “If I put my hand down your pants to that pretty little snatch, tell me I wouldn’t find you wet right now.” He punctuates the words with a sharp pull on my scalp. I cry out, lip quivering, trying to shake my head. “Don’t lie t’me after I’ve been so, so generous t’you today.”

I’m spinning around, a dizzying sensation, Joel’s strong bicep brought across my chest as his other hand delves below my waistline, plunging deep, right to my cotton panties, bypassing the waistband of those, too. Without care, without any sense of boundaries, his fingers explore, slipping through my sensitive slit with ease. I yelp, squirming at the intrusion, and Joel’s deep chuckle behind me confirms what I already knew, what I was beyond confused by.

“Thought so,” he says gruffly, then he cups my entire mound, giving an almost comforting sensation, holding his hand tightly pressed to it. “Nothin’ to be upset about, we’re just havin’ a little fun, payin’ off your debt to dear ol’ Joel, okay?”

I shake my head. “I - I shouldn't be here… it shouldn’t be like this,” I whisper in a cracking voice, hanging my head low as the tears just keep coming, damn them. 

Joel’s fingers start to move slowly, just starting with one, stroking gently up my lips, spreading my slickness around. I’m surprised that it feels good, a pleasant little tingle zipping right to my core that I quickly lament, hating myself for it. “What shouldn’t be like this, hm? That you shouldn’t like my cock down your throat? It’s perfectly natural, doll,” he says, somehow soft and condescending in the same breath.

“A-all of this,” I whimper, “Please, j-just let me go. I w-won’t say anything, I won’t do anything. I just…”

Joel quietly shushes me, letting his finger do the talking for a moment. It drags up to my clit, rubbing tiny, enticing little circles. I bite my lip hard, enough to taste copper, trying to suppress the moan climbing its way up from my chest. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay that it feels good. It’s ‘sposed to. Good little sluts like you don’t know any better, don’t care what it is that’s gettin’ their panties wet. Desperate,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess that’s now drooling onto the cotton. “Just relax, let it happen…” I feel his breath, hot on my ear, before he nibbles, biting down hard on the earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. It bursts out, the whimpering moan I’d been holding back, just as he pinches my clit at the same time as the bite.

He laughs. He has the nerve to laugh and it sends a shiver down my spine, my brain muddled and confused and turned on by the eroticism at play here. He soothes me by nuzzling my neck, taking a long, deep breath in. I squirm as Joel’s hand retreats, and I wonder for just a moment, a brief, all consuming moment, if maybe he’s seen reason. When his fingers find the buttons of my jeans, my heart plummets to depths previously unknown as he unbuttons them, pulling the zipper down slowly, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing right on my neck.

“Please, I gave you what you want already,” I beg once more, feeling it fall on deaf ears as Joel tugs my jeans down, revealing my pink cotton panties. They’re my favorite pair - were my favorite pair - a rare find in a world like this. Pretty pale pink with a nice lacy trim and a little bow at the front. Only now, they’d belong to Joel.

Joel clicks his tongue in approval of the sight, pulling his head back to peer at my underwear from the back before his hand grips my ass, jiggling it roughly. “Oh, you’re jus’not getting it, are you? You feel this?” he asks angrily, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my ass cheeks, threatening to slip between my thighs. “This means you didn’t give me nearly half of what I want yet. He’s still achin’ for ya, princess.” 

I grit my teeth, hating the pet name, the way he’s using who I am to mock me. It’s a low blow. I hated everything to do with being associated with my father - I knew he wasn’t a good man - and I hated most that it was so obvious to a stranger which echelon of society I belonged to. If I was so important, where were they now, huh? I want to scream those words at him, but instead I just feel my legs tremble underneath me, my knees feeling like jelly as they almost give out on me.

“Please!” I struggle against his hold, but it only makes him grip my ass tighter, hard enough to bruise. “I-I’m a virgin,” I suddenly squeak out, unsure of why I say it other than some last ditch effort to deter him. My heart pounds as he stills, dead silent with his hand grasping my ass like it’s his next meal, like he owns it. 

“Well ain’t it my lucky day. Shit, that’s why you were sputterin’ all over my damn cock, ain’t it?” he says as the epiphany dawns on him, laughing. My cheeks blaze hotter and hotter, hating that I’m even embarrassed at my lack of experience and skills, like I have some sick need to impress him. He notices my tension, my head hanging low as I cry new tears, and says, “Hey, hey, nothin’ to be ashamed for. In fact…” His hand fists in my underwear, tight and unrelenting. I feel his cock press against my ass again, harder than ever before it slips between my thighs. “Makes me awful excited,” he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear again.

I only give him a timid whimper in reply, squeezing my eyes shut as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop this man. He thinks I’m a cheap whore, and he loves it. I’m a pure virgin, and he loves it even more.

He squeezes me tighter to his chest, my back starting to sweat through my thin tee shirt. “The hell were you savin’ yourself for anyways? Marriage? A sweet pussy like this?” At my silence, he cups my pussy hard, letting the dampness of my underwear soak into his palm. “Answer me!” he barks out.

“I - I wasn’t! I don’t know!” I cry out, trembling.

“Well,” he says, fisting my panties again, starting to pull them down. “M’honored you’d let me be your first, sweetheart,” he drawls, and I nearly scream at the insinuation. I’m not letting him do anything. 

I start to put up more of a fight, useless against his thick arms holding me so tightly. Cool air touches my ass and the space between my thighs as he manages to shimmy my panties further down even in my struggle. I clamp my legs shut in defiance, roaring out a strained grunt as I keep trying to squirm out of his grasp. He huffs in anger, trying to subdue my writhing body before he pushes it towards the couch. I land hard, banging my knee on the hard edge that supports the cushion, wincing and trying to catch my breath. I’m practically in position for him already, ass pressed out towards him, on my hands and knees.

“Gonna make me do things the hard way, are you?” He scowls, his free hand fisting in my hair again, pulling me close.  His breath is hot over my shoulder, the sensation vile against the skin of my cheek, stained with tears. “Been too long since I found a pretty virgin like you. An’ ruinin’ this perfect, pure little cunt is jus’ the cherry on top of a perfect day f’me.” 

I feel his hard cock twitch against me, a reminder of what’s to come. The movements are quick for how bulky Joel’s body is, let alone his age, as he exchanges the hold across my chest for my wrists, bundling them behind my back. I cry out at the strain, the awkward angle he’d twisted them to, fighting him again until a hard smack lands on my ass. I scream through gritted teeth, not giving up the fight, but another thwap! rings out through the apartment, making me falter. My tender flesh screams at me in agony when he lands another spank, even harder this time, then another, until I’m crying unrelenting, fat tears.

With me rendered motionless, Joel presses down, bending me over, my balance tricky with my hands behind my back. My face nearly touches the couch, but I’m precariously held up by the wrists, the strain already making them ache. The warmth dripping between my thighs betrays me as my ass stings in residual little pulses, so raw and sore but spreading a pleasure through me that I’ve never known before. 

I don’t have time to dwell on it before Joel is grasping one hand on my hip, notching himself at my entrance. “Promise you’re gonna like this, that you’ll never be able to think of anyone else’s cock but daddy Joel’s,” he spews gruffly in my ear before he thrusts hard, one swift motion to bury himself inside of me. I scream out, the searing pain between my thighs making me wonder if I’m being split open for good, if it’s possible that some things are just too big to fit in certain places of the body. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Joel hisses through his teeth, making the tiniest thrusting motions to ensure he’s buried deep. Every movement pierces me with a new sting as my body desperately tries to adjust, to accommodate the horrible, overwhelming intrusion. “You were not kiddin’, sweetheart. Tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever been in.”

I sob, unable to speak, unable to move as Joel thrusts brutally from the get go, his hips snapping with force, crashing into mine hard enough to bruise. The lewd sounds we make disgust me, because I know I’m part of those sounds, my body enjoying the filthy things he’s saying, the way he’s taking me without remorse. He pulls himself out, clicking his tongue as he peers down between our bodies. “Christ, you are one sexy little bird. Poor little virgin bleedin’ on daddy’s cock.”

The thought horrifies me, making my stomach turn. “Please,” I cry out, my body rocking with the motions as he starts to fuck me again, the strain on my wrists as Joel uses them to help thrust himself inside of me starting to gnaw deeper into them. I’m like a ragdoll with the way he’s jerking me by my wrists, my body having no choice but to flail in time with the movements so that he can press himself deep on each cruel thrust inwards.

“You want more? You beggin’ already?” Joel grunts between his heavy breaths, sounding so cocky it makes me want to spin around and punch him. I settle for gritting my teeth instead, feeling my body slowly but surely melding into his. When Joel presses me down further, forcing an arch in my back, I whimper when his cock hits something sensitive, deep, primal. Fuck, is it something. 

“Oh, that’s it. We got her now, don’t we?” he says from above, continuing to stroke his cock along that spot repeatedly. I feel myself losing my will to fight, hating the pleasure but feeling myself lean into it slightly, my hips pressing back to meet his nearly against my will. “You ever come before, sweetheart?” He leans in a little closer to ask the question, the pistoning of his hips slowing the slightest bit.

I refuse to answer, tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t want him to take this from me, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He jerks my wrists at the same time he slams his hips into me, and I whimper loudly, feeling the way he’s surely bruising my insides. 

“If you ain’t figured it out yet, the rules are that you answer me when I’m askin’ you a question if you know what’s good for ya,” he spits out, and I shake my head, letting it hang limply.

“Use your words. Say ‘no, daddy’,”  he says with sinister condescension, stroking his own ego.

“N-no… daddy…” I say, my tongue revolting against the words, bile climbing up my throat.

He moves his hand to my head, stroking carefully and softly. “Oh, that’s a shame. That’s a daaaamn shame. All pent up, y’are. But daddy will make it all better.” He sounds deranged, sick, like he truly believes that I’m thankful to him for what he’s doing to me. I can’t answer, my mouth gaping open just as he releases my wrists, letting me fall to the couch with a thud. My open mouth gets a mouthful of the cushions, making me sick over the fact that it’s probably full of god knows what due to its age and whatever things Joel seems to get up to in this apartment of his.

I blink as Joel grips tightly at my hips, wondering why he suddenly trusts my hands to be free, when it happens. He thrusts into that spot again, harsh and unforgiving, and I nearly see stars behind my eyes as the head of his cock punches against things I didn’t even know were there. That’s why. I’m incapacitated at this angle, brutally forced to enjoy the pleasure washing over my body as Joel takes from me, actually giving in return this time.

I bite my tongue hard, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for the tiny moans that are growing louder in my throat, desperate to be let out.

“Let me hear you, princess. Daddy doesn’t do with quiet girls. I can feel you clampin’ down on my cock, know you’re lovin’ how I use you up like you were meant for it.”

I shake my head in protest, but a strangled sound escapes past my tight lips when Joel slams into me harder than he has yet, puffing hard as he fucks me like a greedy animal. He chuckles through heavy breaths, little whispers of that’s it, come on, take it, flow freely from his nasty mouth. 

I feel myself slip away, further gone from reality as the warmth spreads from my pelvis into my belly, coiling tight. Everything tingles, set on fire, the spot where Joel handles my hips with his fat fingers practically burning with a constant mix of pleasure and pain. I cry out when Joel’s cock pulls that feeling out from deep inside of me again, half a sob and half a moan as it crescendos, waves of pleasure crashing over me.

Joel’s grunts of approval, so brutish and debauched, sends a new wave of arousal through me. I tremble, eyes squeezed shut with my body completely out of my control, taken over by this boundless bliss. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before: heavenly warmth worlds above any of the pleasures I’ve known. This had to be what Joel was referring to, urging me towards, telling me he wanted to make me come. This had to be what I was missing out on all these years, hiding myself away. Was this the reason sex was so coveted, so sought after? Was this feeling… the reason he’s doing what he is to me right now?  

It feels like it’s never ending, my body so rigid as it spasms yet pliant as he fucks into me harder and harder. I loathe the noises I’m making that intermingle with his as I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying it.

“Fuck, fuck - that’s it - f-fuck knew you’d love it. Come on my cock, baby, that’s right.” Joel’s string of praises reach my ears as I come down from my high, limp and yielding to whatever it is he wants to do to me now. I have no fight - my bones turned to jelly, my body sore all over, my throat scratchy from the way he’d assaulted it earlier. I only have it in me to give the rest of myself over, whether I like it or not. 

“S-so fuckin’ tight, lettin’ me take your virginity like a good little whore,” he punches out, pounding into my sensitive cunt like it’s saving his soul, like it’s the only thing he could ever care about. I’m on the precipice of coming again, my nerves still frayed and on edge from the last one. A smaller but still powerful climax takes over, my body shuddering and tight, milking every last second of the pleasure. 

“Gonna blow my load into this pure little pussy, make it mine - fuck - gonna fill you up like the cocksleeve you are. P-probably never want to be without my fuckin’ load drippin’ out of you again. I-I’m close, fuck -” Joel rambles as he ruts his hips deep, one final thrust and a grunt, and I feel him stall, pulsing into me. 

It’s all suddenly very still, an eerie quiet settling over the room. My entire body burns hot, the only thing keeping me from collapsing is Joel’s hands still anchored on my hips as he leaves his cock inside of me, plugging me up. I want to cry again at the sudden, overwhelming shame I feel, but I can’t give him the satisfaction. I can’t.

Joel pats my ass a few times, pulling out. I tremble hard, falling forward onto the couch without his hold, instantly curling in on myself. I resent the way I’d noticed how empty I felt the second he was gone, how cold my body was without his warmth pressed into it. I dare to peer up at the sick man who stands above me, catching his breath, watching just as the last bit of his softening cock gets tucked back into his jeans. He swipes a hand across his forehead, gathering sweat, staring down at me with a darkened expression, grinning cockily.

When he plops down on the couch next to me, picking up the can of beans he’d been eating before, my mouth hangs open in surprise at how casual he’s acting. I watch his face shine with sweat, his breathing still labored, but everything else about his attitude would indicate he didn’t just force himself on me. 

I try to keep my expression neutral for my own safety as I feel something leak out of me, not even wanting to give him the smug satisfaction of having to confirm my suspicions about what it is. I do my best to position my body so he can’t see between my legs as I try to pull my underwear up from where they sit near my knees, my jeans following. Joel only gives me a knowing glance as he takes a bite, conscious of the fact that a part of him sits inside my now soiled underwear, and a part of me now sits inside of his soul. 

He shoves the can my way and I shrink back at his sudden motion, not taking it from him. “Eat. I ain’t havin’ you all weak and despondent for the next time.”

I feel my heart sink down past my ass, my stomach plummeting along with it as nausea overtakes me, a dizzying sensation clouding my vision. He couldn’t have said what I think he did. I - I’d paid my debt, whatever it was he thought I owed him for saving me when I didn’t even ask him to. For saving me and then doing exactly what that man had planned to do anyways under the guise of a caring, noble rescuer.

“N-next time…?” I manage to make my mouth move, my throat to produce a sound, pushing the question out in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.

“Know you said not to call you stupid but my house, my rules, an’ sweetheart…” He looks at me under his raised, expectant brows. “My stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think that would be enough? That I’d get an opportunity every man dreams of - an untouched, perfect pussy like yours, to keep all for m’self, and throw it all away?” He’s creeping closer as he speaks, shrouding me on the couch with his huge frame, caging in where I lay, my body wound as tightly as it can to itself to block whatever he’s thinking of doing next. “Now you don’t think daddy is that dumb to let you go knowin’ all that, do you?”

I sit stunned silent underneath him, wide eyes fixed in a tortured gaze on his rugged face, but his hand squeezing my thigh is warning enough for me to shake my head, stuttering out an answer. “N-no. No…” I whisper. 

Two approving pats on my cheek send Joel slinking back slightly, his dark, unhinged eyes staring holes into me as they roam over my body. Despite nothing even visible - my chest hidden underneath my arms and legs clamped tightly - I feel violated, objectified. 

Terror rips through my chest as reality settles in slowly but surely. I look at the man I’d trusted once, who’d shown himself to be a friend, or at the least an ally, currently feasting his eyes on me like I’m a product. Which now, I suppose I am. A whore. His whore.

“Now,” he says, licking his lips, that hungry gaze already returning, a bulge appearing in his jeans and stretching the fabric. “All I’ve got to do is decide just how long I’ll keep ya for.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

[dreamertf]

Follow the Instructions

/hello! Hope you enjoy this one, im gonna start tagging ai as #ai tf so if you dont want to see any ai images in your tfs you can block that tag. Ill also be putting a disclaimer at the top of each post that has ai.

/contains ai images & video

/includes; muscle growth, suggestion tf, straight to gay tf

"Yeah, Im feeling fine!"

Jason was tired of how weak and scrawny his best friend Max stayed throughout their time in high school and now, college. So he had given Max a new black market roid that promised to "make him a bro." He crushed up a few of the pills without looking at the instructions and baked it into a cookie he gave Max.

Jason wasn't so bad himself, 6'4" and muscular, with a charming face. Little did he know that his height that he had since he was a sophmore in highschool would be changing.

Jason stared at Max as his skin started to ripple and shift.

"Are you sure?"

"Never better, bro."

Max ripped his shirt off as his muscles swelled. A deep canyon of rippling abs leading up to two giant slabs of muscle. He flexed and stretched as his biceps filled out.

"Sorry, im feeling a little hot." Max said non chalantly. His muscles continued to grow as he flexed them.

"Oh my god it worked"

"What worked?"

"Oh nothing, dont worry about it."

"Ok brah"

Their surrounds changed from school as it turned into a living room, a living room Jason had been in so many times before, Max's living room. All of a sudden, Jason felt a pull towards Max. He couldn't stop looking at him, like literally. He traced Max's outline as each muscle became more prominent. He stared at the giant as he grew taller and taller, but something wasn't right. It was like everything around Jason was getting taller too.

Unfortunately, Jason hadn't looked into how the roid actually worked. On the back of the small blue box, it read ;

Are you tired of being weak and nerdy? We got you covered. We believe the human mind is a powerful tool, and our Bro Pill helps you to use it to your full potential! Not only does it shift your mindset to be more focused on sports and the bros, but it also changes various other aspects of your life in order to fit your new you! We recommend taking one pill weekly until desired affects.

WARNING: taking more than one pill a week may intensify the effect you have on other people

Jason panicked as he felt himself losing muscle and height. His features softened as he turned from a rugged man into a young 20 something twink. It looks like the god of Jason's creation has type cast him as his twinky boyfriend. Making Max a jock apparently didn't override his sexuality.

"What are you doing to me?"

His voice was still deep, too deep for someone like him.

"Make that voice a little higher, and can you please quit being so worried brah? Be like me, stop thinkin as much little guy huhuhu."

A wave of relief came over Jason as he collapsed onto the couch. His body continued to shrink as he lost his height, becoming about 5'6" compared to Max's new 6'8". His musculature toned down more, not as defined anymore.

"Whatever you say babe" Jason giggled, his voice much higher and more flamboyant.

"Thats my pretty boy." Conversely, Max's voice became much deeper and demanding. Jason felt himself starting to get hornier.

"I'm so happy i couldfind you. Your ass was like made for my dick huhuhu" Max said as he spread his legs wide as his pouch grew bigger. He had one more explosive growth as his shoulder broadened and his pecs filled out more. Jason shifted in his seat as his ass grew more plump and muscular.

"What do you mean?" Jason feigned innocence, turning the ditziness all the way up.

"Come here and I'll show you, slut."

[eueuphoriaz]

This was supposed to be my own internal thoughts of how Isayama's latest information on Hange basically confirmed that Levi is the one that truly knows Hange on a very very deep and personal basis.

He knows she is always on the move and will not stay out of action. So it kind of confirmed for me that part of his speech to Hange in 126 is not just for the duties and responsibilities bound to the 2 of them, but also on a personal level of the deep relationship and understanding they share.

And then, as I rewatch the forest IFKK scene again (no idea how times I have rewatched that), there seems to be a parallel between the speech/ confession between Armin and Annie.

Not sure how accurate the translation is. But when I watched the Armin and Annie's scene, it kind of clicked to me how these 2 (Levihan and Aruani) handled their feelings and relationship in the midst of their roles and responsibilities and the calamity that the world is facing, are quite similar.

In my opinion, I just think that these 2 scenes depict the struggles of each pair, how they were to face the world if they even have to acknowledge the option of their own personal desires.

And Levi's speech sequence to Hange, is so supportive:

- If we run and hide....how are we going to face the world, dead comrades, our responsibilities, innocent lives lost etc etc.

- I see that you have made up your mind.... and fixing up the cart.

- I know you.... i know what you will choose.

- and I will follow you (this is implicit. Of course it is not just the Beast that is Levi's goal, it is like what Annie said, the world is being murdered and trampled on, and they cant be indulging in their own personal desires)

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

THE RULE OF BEST FRIENDS PART 1-JOBE BELLINGHAM

It was a quiet evening in Birmingham, and as usual, you had convinced your sister Elena to drop by the party downtown, hoping she’d have some fun. Elena wasn’t exactly the type to socialize easily, unlike you, but you managed to drag her with you. It was always a challenge for you: to make the evenings more lively for her and to let her know that sometimes letting go of control could be fun. Despite Elena’s introverted nature, she had invited her best friend, Jobe, to join you that night.

As soon as you arrive, you notice that Jobe seems a little uncomfortable, as if the party atmosphere is making him feel uncomfortable. You are used to seeing him like this: silent and with the elusive look, especially when it comes to you. But you never felt sorry for it, in fact, finding someone who doesn’t immediately engage in exuberant conversations is almost intriguing.

You decide to approach. "Hey, Jobe, always in 'shadow' mode?" You provoke him with a sneer smile.

He blushes a little, the eyes wander towards you before lowering. "" I’m not... really used to... to such lively parties."

"Moving? Does this look like moving? You have no idea what a real party means, man," you mock him, giving a slight push to his arm. He smiles, but remains silent, as always.

Then, without even realizing it, he starts looking at you differently, with a lost and admired look. You realize that he has the same attitude every time you are together, as if every word you say had a special weight for him. And somehow this little show of yours makes him more and more embarrassed.

Elena comes in and sighs, giving you a funny look. " Stop tormenting him, Y/N, it’s hard enough to have him here," he says, hinting at Jobe with a complicit smile.

"Torment him? But what, I’m just teaching him to have some fun," you reply, winking at Jobe.

Elena shakes her head, resigned. "You always have this mania of wanting to be the center of attention, Y/N."

"Someone has to be, right?" Reply with an ironic grin, before returning to look at Jobe. "But tell me, Jobe... what do you really think about these parties?"

Jobe seems to be taken by surprise by your direct question and swallows, then finally looks up at you. " It’s... not really my scene, but... well, I’m here to... be with you," she confesses, with a slight hesitation in her voice.

"Hmm, and can you?" you ask with an ironic tone, approaching slightly, almost to challenge him. "To be with us, I say."

Jobe can’t answer right away, he seems almost caught in your gaze, and at the end he just lowers his eyes, his shyness evident. " I try to..."

You’re about to press again, amused by his clumsiness, when Elena interrupts you. "Y/N, enough. You can’t always provoke him like that."

"What? I’m just chatting," she replies in an innocent tone, raising her hands in surrender. But then you turn back to Jobe, lowering your voice. "So, Jobe, is it so terrible to talk to me?"

He shakes his head frantically. "N-no, actually... it’s just... you... are a little intimidating."

Laugh fun. "Intimidating? Oh, this is new. Why, what’s scary?"

Jobe hesitates, biting his lip slightly, while Elena seems busy with her phone and leaves you alone for a moment. Jobe clears his voice, visibly nervous. "It’s not fear... It’s just that... well, you’re... different."

"Ah yes?" you tilt your head, staring at him with a curious air. "And how different, Jobe?"

Jobe seems stuck, unable to formulate a response. Finally, after a few seconds, she murmurs: "I can’t explain... but you’re the kind of person who... who... leaves a mark, here."

Your smile widens, and without turning away, you say to him: "Who knows, maybe it’s not so terrible to leave a mark, right?"

Jobe nodded weakly, the redness on his cheeks now evident. He can’t hide the attraction to you, even though he probably thinks you haven’t noticed. But deep down, every time you see that lost look in his eyes, it’s like I have a little confirmation. And you like to play with this awareness, enjoying the fact that, despite the rule between him and Elena, Jobe can not stop looking at you with those eyes full of admiration.

"And anyway, if you want to take a walk later, we could get out of the 'busy' environment for a moment. I think some air would be good for you," you suggest.

Jobe nods, and this time his smile seems more confident. "I would like to, yes... really."

So, with a last little smile of complicity, you cast a glance that seems to say: *We’ll see how far your courage goes, Jobe.*

The party continued, and Elena and Jobe had a chat with two of their old school friends. Jobe smiled and nodded, trying to follow the conversation, but his mind was elsewhere.

As soon as he saw you in the crowd, his attention turned completely to you. You were dancing, as always in the center of attention, with that charisma that came naturally to you. You laughed and moved lightly, and your gaze for a moment crossed that of Jobe. He held his breath, hearing that familiar fast heartbeat he felt whenever you were around.

One of his rules with Elena - not to see relatives - came back to him, a rule born just to avoid situations like the one he was in. A year earlier, during a small school party, someone had flipped a bottle during a game and eventually fate decided that Jobe should kiss you. He still remembered the blush that had invaded his face when your lips had touched hers, and how his heart literally jumped in his throat.

Since then, you had started to look at him with a little smile accomplice, almost challenging him to be less shy. Since that kiss, the rule had been established to avoid his friendship with Elena becoming complicated, but your temptation to challenge the limits was always evident.

Unable to restrain himself, Jobe watched you dancing, mesmerized by your movements. Noticing his gaze, you didn’t let the opportunity slip away. With a mischievous smirk, you approached slowly, maintaining eye contact. You danced with a ease that you knew would make him whiten, the way you moved your hips and laughed at each joke made his blush visibly increase.

Finally, you pass by him with a sneer smile. "Are you having fun, Jobe?"

He flushed even more, swallowing visibly. "S-yes... sure," she replied, trying to keep her voice still.

"Really? Then why do you keep looking at me as if I’m some kind of... vision?" you joke, tilting your head and watching her reaction.

He looks down, uncertain of how to answer. "I wasn’t... I wasn’t looking."

Laugh, enjoy his clumsiness. "Oh, of course not. Besides, why would you? I’m just your best friend’s sister, right?"

Jobe scratched his neck, embarrassed. "Yeah... just... just this."

But he can’t help looking at you again, and this time his eyes are shone with something beyond mere shyness. You notice it and you come a little closer, lowering your voice so that only he can hear you.

"You know, Jobe, you could relax a little. This famous rule is not carved in stone..." murmurs, hint at an intriguing smile.

Jobe remained silent, staring at the floor to hide his embarrassed smile that he could not hold back. "I don’t think... well, Elena not... you know..."

"Still with Elena?" you shake your head. "You’re ruining all fun for that crazy rule."

You go forward a split second, but then it stops, perhaps for fear of taking too big a step. "It’s not just the rule... It’s... It’s complicated."

"Complicated?" raise an eyebrow, enjoy. "You don’t seem like the complication type, Jobe."

He sighs, shaking his head. "It’s just... you’re different, Y/N. Every time you’re around... you make me feel..."

"Hear what?" Pressure, not letting him escape.

But just as he is about to answer you, Elena reappears, interrupting the moment of tension. "Y/N, all right?" asks, looking at you with a curious glance, as if he has an intuition.

Smile innocent. "I was just chatting with your friend here. But rest assured, I’m not going to break any rules," he replies with an ironic smile, giving a last look at Jobe, who looks down again, embarrassed.

As you walk away, you cannot help but feel his eyes upon you, knowing that you have planted a seed of doubt in his mind.

[puniyo]

The Quest for the Ring Power in Jack & Joker (points at Jack specifically)

Disclaimer: I haven’t watched episode 10 yet (I’m so dreading it) but this is based on the spoilers and also on the events of the plot so far.

Jack & Joker is definitely one of the best series (whether you want to call it BL is your choice), if not the best one, that came out this year. The production costs must have been really high because the different settings, wardrobe, props, editing, music, all this is a proper package of very high quality. The cast is superb and War should definitely receive an award for his portrayal as Joke. I will not delve into the cast much because this category itself deserves another separate post so today I will focus on:

The Quest for POWER in the series

Disclaimer #2: Power can be defined as the ability to direct or influence the behavior of others or the course of events. I’m using POWER in the broadest sense and not specifically targeted at some aspect. You might link power with being “dominant” and feel free to do so, but I don’t want to put any further labels on power so that I won’t mistakenly describe something I’m not totally familiar with.

Out of all the possible themes related to J&J – family relationships, poverty in society/community, greed (and the importance of money in one’s life), the ambiguous line of what constitutes crime – POWER is one of the ones that is flexed in almost every episode and woven so intricately into the plot that it almost feels masked by everything else.

Taking our golden triangle – Jack, Joke and Boss – these three characters are linked with power in different ways. I dare to say that Jack and Boss are parallel to each other and quite similar in their (challenging) quest for power. Our trump card is Joke, unlike his deck card name Joker, who, on the contrary, relinquishes easily the power that he gets.   

For those who think that Jack and Boss have nothing to do with each other, hear me out. First, both Jack and Boss had their innocent, puppy moments of having their hair down and covering their foreheads – okay, this is irrelevant but it kind of creates a nice “why do you insist on having the same hairstyle as I do?” moment.

Fine, I’ll be serious now. Jack and Boss are in a boss (couldn’t he have chosen another name – although people address him as Alice in some episodes) and subordinate relationship, so there is an automatic power imbalance here. Jack is a debt collector for Boss, who in turn has to obey to the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse (I’ll just call them 4H).  They are both under someone’s rule and they both don’t like because (1) they lose their freedom and (2) they lose control (whether total or partial). Somehow, Boss could be an older version of Jack if he (Jack) had lost all his support.

Let’s talk about Boss/Alice. We have no idea about his background except that he had a wife that he loved dearly and left him with a diamond necklace. We are given no idea why she died but I like to think it is because of the 4H, which makes his hatred for them multiply. He has Arun but from their (lack) of interactions, we can assume that Arun never lived up to his expectations and he too never gave himself the chance to truly nurture Arun. So Boss has lost the only ground he could have to keep him sane and sensible. A lot of people online are questioning how one single ring can mean so much to him and it is exactly because that little golden accessory is synonym to power.

People are too used to power being displayed by use of violence or charismatic speeches, but have they thought why we still have monarchies nowadays? How did kings and emperors in the past used to stay in power? From conquering land and improving their vassals’ lives? If so, then what is the point of lineage? What are these chosen people by the heavens? People are inherently superstitious and like to use external entities to justify views of the world which they don’t understand. Being a leader requires exerting power but not everyone knows how to properly exert it. Many don’t even have the courage to do so. Because with power, there comes consequences and responsibilities. A ring, no matter how simple it is, is a symbol of power and grants people this additional belief and bravery that they need to stay in power. It is as if just by wearing the ring, they would imbue power in their veins.

Could Boss have hired Carbon or other people before to do his dirty work? Definitely yes. Could Boss have revolted and gone against the 4H? Also yes. Did he have the courage to do so? No really. Just an aside here that I think the name Alice suits him well. Alice as in Alice in Wonderland, he too is trying to escape the rabbit hole, albeit this time it’s not really a rabbit but four horses.

Now turning to Jack. Jack has enjoyed being in power since episode 1. Jack is a black belt in taekwondo and is seen to be able to defeat other members in his club. Jack is also the breadwinner for his family (our beloved A-ma). Power doesn’t mean being almighty. Power for Jack is the ability to control his decisions and not be subjugated by others. Losing the opportunity to join the national team is a major power cut. Having to lower down his head to Carbon is a major blow to him as well. When he starts working for Boss, regardless of whether he is willing or not, he is a debt collector and that is naturally a job associated with power over others. He has the power to enact violence but he chooses kindness instead – to help others pay their debts. It’s a choice he made. His choice, his power to do so. Even though he lacks higher formal education, Jack is a teacher figure in the community and that is also a job associated with power (though we often call it influence). His interactions with Joke, inside or outside the bedroom, are fully charged with power – taking the initiative, neck grabs, feisty remarks, a few punches and kicks, (empty) threats. Even in the joint heist with Arun and Hope, he’s the one to take the lead when Arun can’t come up with excuses to get the group into the auction. We see Jack out of his element when he loses control – having to please Rose and Boss, being reprimanded by A-ma, or when Joke refuses to give up his share of power (more on this later).

Now (how many times have I said ‘now’ in this post), the major difference between Jack and Boss is that Jack’s support system is very much present in his life. He has A-ma, bless her soul, she is the major anchor for his kindness; then the people in the community. Even as a debt collector, we can see that the people are fond of him and respect him. His “subordinates” too listen to him instead of being scared of him (see Hope as an example). Besides this grounding system, we have Joke, who is the one to feed Jack with power. If A-ma is an anchor for Jack, Joke can be considered a source. That’s why in this last episode, without the community and Joke (he has Joke, but not the idealized, crime-free Joke in his head), Jack is on his way to the descend to madness.

Joke, Joke, Joke. I don’t even know where to start to write my ode to him. He is my favorite character, not just because it’s War portraying him (but let’s be honest, War is having the time of his life with him and his acting really shines through), but because Joke feels very real – decently arrogant, smart and witty, scheming when he needs to, devoted to his found family – Joke can make me adore him even more because you can see how much he cares about others. About Jack. And he does this by relinquishing the power he obtains.

The series starts with him stealing an exam and falsifying an offer letter. Being a thief and con-artist (the persona Joker), Joke holds a lot of power and knows how to manipulate it in order to get what he wants and get people to react the way he wants. However, we also get to know that Joker steals from the rich to give to the poor, a sort of modern Robin Hood. This already indicates that he is willing to give away his power so that others can benefit from it. Later, Joke himself admits that stealing is the only thing he knows to do. Let us rephrase this to “giving my power to others is the only thing I can do”. Let’s see more examples of this: Joke willingly confesses his crimes to police to clear his name; Joke lowers himself to apologize to his parents (that first kowtow, damn, as an Asian myself, that really spoke volumes, and then the chive dumplings); Jokes steals a ring twice (and gives them away twice as well) to free Jack from a fate that eats away his power; Joke allows a glass bottle to be broken on his head so that he can save Tattoo and Hoy; Joke concedes to Jack both times when playing the bottle game; I will not comment on the lovemaking since I haven’t watched it yet but that would be enough for another post.

Joke is given power countless times throughout the series and relinquishes it just as easily. But by doing so, he is not being a sacrificial lamb or a tragic hero. It just makes him all the more likeable because each time he relinquishes power, it leads to a chain of consequences, some beyond his control, that makes us get a glimpse (more of a stare) at his flaws. And a flawed character is the best kind of character. At the end of the day, aren’t we all flawed?

Now that Jack has started descending to madness, this would be an ending that I would love to see (no matter how cliché it is):

There were guns on the promotional posters before so it’s time to recover them.

Jack has too much chaotic power in him and he has no sufficient ground to control it.

Jack will want to kill Boss and Carbon (as we all do).

Joke will not allow Jack to do so, because killing means destroying the last ounce of kindness in Jack and truly break him.

Jack, though, will get his hand on that gun, and aim that the two gentlemen above.

Joke comes on time to defend them from the shot (yes, you heard me, not because he’s working for them or being taken hostage, but because that is the only way to save Jack).

Jack fires (bang!!)

The bullet hits Joke, right on the shoulder where the “J” of hearts is.

(I think I rather write a fic instead of daydreaming)

[kookiecrumb]

Old Friends

jungkook x reader

angst, lovers to friends

-

Jungkook rested with his hands folded over his thighs. He couldn’t bear to lift his head up to meet your eyes.

From his lips, a soft sigh escaped.

“Somebody else, huh? You found somebody else to fill the hole I left? I mean— what did I expect, right?” He lets out a chuckle, pathetically. “I’m always on tour, I’ve got my music, I’ve got my military service coming up…”

“It isn’t personal. Everyone moves on from the kind of thing we had. You knew it was just young love. Eventually, people grow up and move on.”

“Yeah? Well, I didn’t see it that way. I thought we would grow old together. I even told you that when we first slept together,” he said.

Then, a pronounced pause.

“I don’t know what to say, Kookie—“

“Don’t kookie me.” He lifts from his seat and approaches you. “You loved it, every single time we made love, you slept on my chest. I thought it meant something that you called me every time he fucked it up.”

“It did mean something. You were my everything.”

“Were? I was a…phase? What, an experiment? A fantasy.”

It was true that looking at him now, his eyes had lost the innocence they once had. When you were 18, the idea of getting to be a part of his life at all thrilled you. Now, it felt like you were living in the shell of who you were three years ago.

“When I thought no one could love me, you loved me. When I needed something to believe in, I believed in your dream of becoming an idol. When I needed you, you were right there for me, and for that, I’m grateful. Don’t mistake it, I did love you with all that I had,” you said, firmly.

Jungkook had trouble grasping at what point you had chosen to grow apart from him. He combed through every moment he had with you, searching his mind for a single time that you had said or done anything that indicated that you were pulling away.

“When did you stop?” Acceptance had set in, and he was trying to control the damage as best he could. Preserve his heart after you had shot it point blank.

“It doesn’t just happen. It took time and it was slow,” you explained, calmly. “Do you want to talk about it over coffee?”

Ceding, he grabbed his coat from the bench and slipped it on, shoving his hand into the pocket to find his keys. “Yeah.”

That afternoon, you and Jungkook walked into that café old lovers and walked out old friends.

-

[prsk-translyrics]

Jackpot Sad Girl translyrics BUT it's a "student A diss track" that i did for a reddit post

please excuse inaccuracies and errors this was done very quickly

Living a life just like every other Words with no meaning, just another sucker Look here, look here, the days keep passing by Yet still, yet still, you show your cursed eye (note: curs-ed)

Talent is wasted on fools and jesters, Give yourself up, I tell you, you're an easy mark Again, again, the halfwit spills his lies That makes disgust from innocent surprise (see: ena's card)

A normal life evades the fortunate Your adversity's so sickly sweet. (note: schadenfreude (guchiry) reference! the word means taking pleasure in the misfortune of others)

That makes you the Clown, a coward, liar and a breaker of your no-good word. (yeah this is taken from a shakespeare quote) It's lost to you, good quality, I pray your whispers go unheard. To disgrace a life of such value and laugh it off makes you the villain here, can you not see? You're a dead end with a closed-off mind. Your future crumbles with each passing day.

Logic and boredom are what start conflict Life is a joke and you don't try to change it Hello, hello, my wish is your command The hunted seek to punish all the damned

Your mind crumbles inside your thick skull Normalcy is truly just so tedious and dull! Look deep, look deep, look deep inside of me The hate inside is all that you will see

Reflected in the horror of those eyes is the smile of a monster, and

A clown, a coward, liar and one of the few I can't forgive. If the beats of our hearts sync, then surely, only one will live. To disgrace a life of such value and laugh it off makes you the villain here, can you not see? The knife I hide may be denied but I seek truth and the future lies ahead.

hii fuu mii yoo ii muu naa yaa

hii fuu mii yoo ii muu naa yaa (note: count your days student a)

Hey, student, aren't you just such a fool? You say nothing has changed and yet you don't blame all that is cruel. (couldn't keep up w kanade even when slowed so this is NOT accurate) Even mutated flowers would refuse to grow within you You're a phony, a fake, and so hard to stand

Hey student, the sitting duck that you are Could never stand to receive such a hideous scar (i.e could never withstand the pain mizuki did) Do your research and kill all your bigotry And if you wish to see just an ignorant, insolent fool Then look inside yourself

That makes you the Clown, a coward, liar, one which no good person can defend. Everything that you've worked for will all fall away in the end. The life you live's a Sisyphean task, dear Prometheus, your emotion has been eaten out. The throne you saw here was a mirage and so the future just escapes your grasp Again.

[rustonyourfingers]

Rambling about Vi

ARCANE S2 SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

I've been going through arcane s2 tag but I haven't seen anyone mention this so far, and I really need to talk about it.

This post is about Vi, but more specifically -- Claggor's goggles and their symbolism. We know that Claggor's goggles were one of the things that Jinx kept after her bomb worked, and we know she used them frequently -- we see her wear them every time she works on something both in season 1 and in season 2 as well. Ever since season 1 the goggles were set up as a symbol -- of a life and identity lost, of Jinx's insanity and hallucinations becoming stronger and stronger, of lost innocence and fall into maddness and violence. And I love how now this symbol was passed onto Vi -- in such a vital moment of her journey as well.

Just moments before the group enters that hangout place (also, the way we keep coming back here, after all these years that passed between s1 arc 1 and s2 -- brilliant!) Vi decided to join the Enforcers -- the very people who for decades (at least!!) oppressed people of Zaun and treated them like animals, like dirt on the soles of their shoes that didn't deserve so much as to breathe. In that moment she's besically deciding to betray her people, but most importantly, herself -- the little girl who walked across that bridge and witnessed all the death and destruction the Enforcers sown, saw her own parents' dead bodies laying broken on the ground. She betrayed the older Vi, the one taken by Vander that followed him around, one that dreamt of getting the boot the Enforcers kept on their necks off and ripping it apart, so Zaun would finally be free of their brutality. She betrayed the Vi that was locked in Stillwater, beaten by the Enforcers for the simple crime of existing, to the point when anytime someone approached her cell, that's what she expected -- another beating. Young Vi saw the imbalance of power between the Enforcers and people of Zaun -- and she hated it. The Enforcers always had better weaponry, training, every advantage possible, and they used it in the most vicious way possible -- to oppress, to hurt, to make sure that people of the Undercity would never be recognized as human, as deserving to live and to have rights.

And now, Vi's putting on the badge herself. Now, she's the one with the advantage -- hextech weapons and bioweapons, things that even with the use of shimmer would be extremely hard to fight against. With that one action, Vi became the oppressor -- and while we see her refuse to acknowledge that until the very end of episode 3, to me her picking up those goggles was the first sign of her facing that reality.

Because Clagger's goggles are a symbol of the past -- the past where Vi was fighting for the right cause, to make her family's life better, to make sure there would be no more orphans in the Undercity. Vi is no longer fighting for the right cause -- she is now part of the causeless violence released onto the people of Zaun, onto the civillians, onto the kids. She not only stops to examine the goggles -- no, she picks them up and puts them on her head immediately, as a reminder of who she was, as a reminder of why she was fighting in the first place, as comfort because she no longer is who she was, she no longer fights for what she faught for in the past and she needs to belive that she's making the right choice in following Cait's lead, because if she faces the fact that she became everything she hated, the very thing that made her into the person she was in season 1, that'll break her. And Vi cannot allow herself to break. Not in the past, not now, not ever.

To me, the goggles are such a wonderful and important part leading to a) Vi's breakdown with Cait when she asks Cait to never change, and b) when she sees Isha protect Jinx with her body and aim a gun at her head, and realizing the fact that she's becoming to Isha what the Enforcers were to young Vi and Powder on that bridge, and that she was no longer fighting for the right cause.

Anyway, this is super chaotic, but I love how Clagger and Milo's memory lives on and still haunts the narrative for both Jinx and Vi. Just chef's kiss all around, what a wonderful show.

Also, English isn't my first language so hopefully this all makes sense lol.

[ofseptarsis]

'These violent delights...'

The quote seems oddly adequate for a moment like this, even if violence is rarely as poetic as The Bard would have one believe.

There is no clear-cut reason behind what goes on, there is no overarching lesson: there is just repetition.

She is right.

The realization makes Tófi's eyes widen in surprise they can't hide, not when they are already way too busy trying to control the rest of their facial movements, when they still refuse to let pain show even if a side of their face has been severely damaged by fire and energy -epidermis burnt down to a crisp, pieces of it hanging futilely hanging by the side while a pitiful mix of damaged faux vessels, fibers and magic (barely) cover their actual gray, scaly skin.

It hurts, but they won't let it show.

(They might be a pseudo-immortal but they are not immune to pain, for that is a thing that never changes, unlike them.

Pain is always a raw, uncomfortable, invasive feeling, no matter how much one tries to get accustomed to it, no matter how much one exposes themselves to it, no matter how old one grows up to be.)

The only thing they can do about it is grit their teeth and try and power through it, focus on more important things than the way their nerves scream, the way the heat of blood dripping on their shoulder becomes indistinguishable from the heat of the blade.

She is right.

To say that it had been a one-sided thing is to lie; They were guilty of the very same thing they condemned her for.

Those weren't exactly news, no, but it's just now that the implications of it hits them: they can almost hear Seth's voice admonishing them for their stupid sentimentality, for their lies, half-truths and shameful realities.

'I regret nothing' they claim, only to be faced with-

'What about leaving me?'

Something in both of them shifts: her voice and the feeling in their chest, the harshness of her gaze and the intensity of their almost manic smile.

Do they regret it?

Things could have been different, had they not decided to act when they did, that is a fact-

-but they also know too much to allow themselves to dream of a perfect ending to the conflict; Batwing's and Comitessa's deaths had always been inevitable, would have happened sooner or later: the only choice anyone had had been between having those two be killed by them or by Seth.

But here's the thing: Seth wouldn't have stopped with just them (for satisfaction was not a part of his nature) he would have continued, created an absolute carnage and burned the Estate to the ground before moving on to civilians, to those that had shared the departed's ideals, to those whose nature was too weak, too pathetic to deserve to live in stolen land.

No. They did not regret it.

It had only been logical, it had been for the best, regardless of what Menodora and the Magic High Commission thought.

They did not know Seth as well as Tófi did.

'What about sacrificing your reputation for my sake?' she continues with voice hardened.

She goes on about glory on the battlefield, about victory, but Tófi's mind drifts somewhere else: to a private studio, to colossal rooms full of books on absolutely everything, to spacious patios and beautifully illuminated halls, to innocent smiles and laughter, to childish mischievousness and hope.

All of it had been gone in the blink of an eye, sacrificed for the cause.

Centuries of being a scholar, an advisor, of a comfortable life, gone.

They'd never be able go back to that life of simplicity, just like now, amongst the flames, they would never be able to go back to the same unconventional friendship they'd built over the last year.

That they did regret.

They'd never admit it, though, for admitting it would make it all real.

It had all been for the cause: everything they'd lost had been discarded for the greater good, in the name of blood-stained justice, so it had not been worthless.

It couldn't have been all for nothing.

And this- this was all for her: to make her stronger, to make her cling to life, to make her fight back.

The losses they'd have to incur would be worth it.

They had to.

The dagger at their throat fades into thin air, leaving behind only a brief flash of blue light, and then Moon's darkened hand, surprisingly, rests against their chest.

She doesn't seem aware of just how much they'd bet on her, how much hope they'd placed on her and how furiously they've refused to let go, even when she was at her lowest and not much has come of it all, when she's fallen victim to the same things that her ancestors had and has turned her back on those who needed her the most.

And they weren't just thinking of the Monsters, no.

There was a kid, somewhere, that desperately needed her mother's love and guidance.

Ah, mortals were so terribly short-sighted...

'Aren't you at least a little concerned what a grief-stricken woman like myself could do to you now?'

Tófi can't help but chuckle as they shake their head 'no'.

"What are you going to do, claw my eye out?" they ask, in strangely good spirits -that inside joke is somewhat soothing (or maybe it's her hand placement, who knows)

"It would grow back" they continue, moving their hand to meet hers and give her a brief pat "it will all grow back"

The damaged bone, the skin, the nerves, the fondness.

"You could try and kill me right here and now, but that would make for terrible PR" an amusing thought, that "the fire damage is bad but could easily be explained as an accident, badly maiming someone, on the other hand..."

Gossip could be fatal for them both.

"Har du det bedre nu, min måne?"

@menodoramoon

genfødte sandheder || Tófi & Moon

[heavy-buddy]

is it just me or is the Palestine stuff majorly performative.

[widowshill]

— But it's almost midnight. — Oh, that's the point! At the stroke of twelve, he turns into Dracula. C'mon, Vicki – he won't bite.

pose ref.

[coquelicoq]

raksura for the ask meme?

YAY

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most) moon was designed in a lab to appeal to me personally, so. it's about the trust issues!

scrunkly (my "baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped) the sky copper clutch!! traumatized children imprinting on a guy with baby fever is usually what i go to fanfic for so to have it right there in canon? incredible. i love all of frost's little tantrums and idk, just the way that she claims moon as her family in a way that has nothing to do with court politics? she's like, we're your clutch, obviously. and this is our court because it's your court, and all the other jabronis who live here are on thin ice. she's ready to throw down with moon's wife/the government at all hours of the day and she's like six years old. i love that moon has that energy in his life even though he personally is pretty confused and exhausted by it lol.

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave) it's hard out here for an ember stan because he is in so few scenes relative to the space he occupies in my psyche! i need 5000% more interactions between him and moon. him and stone. him and shade. him and river. him and the teachers. him and the clutches. him and jade and balm and chime. oh my god him and malachite? him and celadon? him and delin??

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week) niran. i'm always up for a "longsuffering ship captain resigns himself to another restless night of hearing gigantic shapeshifters with incredible stamina fuck nasty on the roof of his cabin" moment. technically i have never been in that exact situation, but i feel like i can relate.

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave) river who is CLASSIC poor little meow meow territory like yes his whole personality is being a grade A asshole and sure he tries to kill my blorbo a few times, but once you get to know him he's so sad and pathetic that i'm kind of like okay where can i sign up to defend him from the largely factual aspersions of his dozens of quite frankly justified haters? he'd hate that. the good shit 👌

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason) stone. every time he crankily says "why did i ever reproduce" upon finding himself entangled in yet another ridiculous clusterfuck thanks to one of his hundreds of idiot great-great-great-great-great grandchildren, an angel gets its wings. he's depressed and antisocial but he can't totally check out because he has to mediate relationship issues between his dumbass relatives. love that for him.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell) malachite but specifically because malachite would not be scared of superhell. she'd skulk around being invisible, maybe fuck some shit up if she felt like it, and leave when she got bored. she probably makes it like. opal night's sister city or something. and nobody in the court is at all phased. yeah that's our reigning queen who recently got back from vacation in superhell. she does that. she says it's relaxing.

[pbpsbff]

crazy how “genocide is bad” is a controversial take to some ppl these days

[rosarycrime]

need someone to help me get back the pure sweet innocent girl i used to be

[hella1975]

i can’t believe not even 24 hours ago i was in an exam like that still feels like something i hallucinated

[homielander]

every once in a while i remember that nobody in season 3, not even annie or MM, ever bothered to bring up the very valid point that maybe the boys shouldn't be hunting and killing supes who haven't actually done anything wrong (at least to their knowledge), and i am filled with rage all over again