#thanks to the cr update coming up

[lance-sugar-cookie]

A commission i had done by @orimar-vale :D (theyre so awesome go check out his art !!!!)

I dub them HollyCaviar :) I don't think theyve interacted a single time in canon but i think their vibes are compatible. Also i think Hollyberry should get another adventure where she's kicking ass and also having So Much Fun being a Pirate and so would her granddaughter. Knight and Wildberry ofc end up having fun. Sorbet is obviously also there.

Anyway. HollyCaviar :) very cute i love them :) old people romance :) they're so silly yay!!!

[pyronovas]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 | Joel Miller x reader

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

part two– summary | It's a shitty situation, dependency brimming unspoken and one wrong move puts your life in danger and once again, you find yourself owing everything to Joel.

content warning | DDDNE — DUBCON, coercion, selective mutism on readers behalf, graphic depictions of violence, injury tw, attempted sa (briefly), brief mentions of pregnancy and procedures to prevent it, mean!joel, unhealthy coping mechanisms for trauma, all angst no fluff but a lot of emotion, smut (bc without it who am i), sex riding an adrenaline high after life or death situation, joel fucks you against a tree, showering together, weird domesticity, guilt-riddled joel, bed-sharing, unprotected piv, creampies, lots of progress made here i promise

author's note | part three will more than likely be out by the end of this month i promise! also thank you to everyone who's shown this story so much love, it means so much to me. this chapter is about as light as this story gets...so....sorry? <3

word count —9k

part one | part three | strangers masterlist

They argue about you like you’re not standing a few feet away.

“She needs a job,” Tommy tells him, “Rules, Joel. Everyone pulls their weight—how this works.”

“You act like I don’t know that,” Joel gripes, “but what are you expecting her to do? She don’t talk, she refuses to go anywhere without me. She sure as hell ain’t gonna be much use workin’ the stables or fixin’ fences when she’s so goddamn skittish.”

Tommy shrugs, “Patrol, then.”

Joel’s eyes narrow, “Like hell,”

Another silent standoff you were more than happy to stay out of, the nylon of your coat scratching against itself as you take a couple steps back in the fear of an impending blow up.

“Give me another option then,” Tommy argues, “You just said she won’t leave your side—”

“She ain’t ready for that,” Joel says rather defensively, your brow furrowing at his disdain over the idea, ignoring the fact you were on the run for several weeks, surviving on your own—this was different.

Admittedly, you had clung to Joel.

He was safe, comfortable, and had become a strange sense of home in an unfamiliar place.

As much as he tried to act like it didn’t affect him, he’s grown used to your presence. Though, he’s set a hard boundary with you—no touching, keep your distance, and always make yourself known. You were always quiet, eerily so, and Joel hated that.

Tommy attempts to decipher Joel, staring at his brother, “You don’t think she can do it,”

“Both,” Joel admits, both of their eyes flickering toward you briefly, expressions unreadable.

“I think she’ll surprise you,” Tommy admits.

Joel shakes his head in a lazy disbelief, not believing an ounce of what Tommy is trying to convince him of, “We’ll see—but she’s with me, no one else. Not even Ellie.”

“Figured that,” Tommy retorts, “You’re goin’ out pretty far, we haven’t hit the lodge in a couple weeks. That alright?”

Your body tenses at the mention of it, but neither of them notice. Joel’s hand curls into a fist and flexes open, a nervous tic you’ve noticed about him when he was trying to steady himself, he nods silently in response.

When you both arrive back to the Miller home, Joel begins packing his bag up, already half-stuffed and switching out a few things. He tosses you a tattered bag, old and well-loved before he’s pointing toward the basement.

“A couple pairs of clothes, extra pair of shoes, nothing that ain’t a necessity—I’ll stock your pack with the other stuff come mornin’ before we head out,”

You had a night then.

There was only one lodge near Jackson that you could remember. It was the last time you saw them.

The men in tailored gear, embroidered with a gold patch that designated their status amongst the group. 

Trackers, seekers—they handled the recruiting, though often forced. They were glorified kidnappers, taking young men and women against their will if they were unfortunate enough to cross their path, but they also managed the hunting.

If someone escaped, they never came back in one piece.

Whether that was a shattered mind or a missing limb, it was never good.

The lodge was empty when you found it, just at the crest of winter when you had snuck in, fitting yourself into a sizable gap in the flooring covered by a wooden panel.

The men had been on your tail for days, tracking you through the miles of forests behind you and into the town.

Luckily, they were unsuspecting at that moment.

Your misfortune came later, but the lodge was a warning.

They were near, always near—you had no idea if they were still searching, even after a few weeks of settling in.

It was the unknown, the looming presence, that terrified you. 

They had an obligation to follow demands but most of them did it for sport.

It was never anything but a game.

—

Sleep is fickle that night, scratching at the rusted metal of your bed frame until it was caked under your nails, the soft hum of electricity above as it moved through Joel’s house, his soft footsteps as he woke, gentle as he strolled barefoot, eventually trading it for heavy footfall as his boots went on—it was early dawn when the tap came to your door, feigning sleep as you hid under the sheets.

Joel gives you a few minutes, pacing beyond the threshold.

His patience reminds you of the kind you used to wish for back when everything was different, back when you were nothing but a prisoner—you were pushing it, though. Even Joel’s patience would wear thin, making your best attempt to delay the patrol before he’s opening the door with a click, the key shoved into the mechanism before the door creaks open.

“Get up,” he barks, “we’re already late and holding up the rest of ‘em,”

You moan tiredly, barely audible, shuffling under the sheets, only for them to be ripped back in an instant.

“You’ve got about five seconds,” he warns, snatching your pack off the floor as he stands over you, daring to pry your eyes open to take a peek at him, “or I’m rippin’ you out of that bed,”

He catches your eyes as they open and his brow is cocked authoritatively, making your body move despite your apprehensiveness for the entire situation and Joel eyes you skeptically, stepping around you as you move with little enthusiasm.

“If you changed your mind, I can talk to Tommy,” Joel says with a tone that makes your chest tighten with fear—both of abandonment and helplessness, “I’m sure he’ll find somethin’ for you to do here while I go and—”

You stop in your tracks at his words, coat on and shoes barely slipped over your heel as you’re approaching him with immediate worry, shaking your head furiously as you grip onto his bicep, eyes pleading.

He’s always direct with you now, making sure your eyes connect with his. He’s learned to read you through facial expression and emotion, settling with the fact you weren’t going to speak to him, whether capable or not.

“Alright,” he sighs, and you shrug slightly but not enough to break your hold, “then hurry up.”

His voice carries the weight of a thousand other mornings like this, where silence and glances fill the space between you. He’s grown comfortable, surprisingly. He didn’t like how normal your presence had become or how you seemed to settle into his life easily.

“Probably make a few stops along the way,” Joel explains, “I took myself off patrol duty for this,” he means you, this, the burden of your situation and disruption, “the lodge is far but usually out there we aren’t dealin’ with much, less infected in the cold and all.”

But not people, you think.

He sees you tense at the mention, coat shrugging over your shoulders.

Last ditch effort. Anything.

Just change his mind.

You reach for his palm as he extends it face up, examining you carefully.

You tap your pointer finger into the center of his palm before pointing it at the floor, the hand holding his wrist tugging insistently.

Stay. A finger into his palm.

Here. A finger to the floor.

You repeat it a few times until he seems to understand through the silent communication.

“Stay..stay,” he begins, deciphering your message, “we’re not—no we’re not stayin’ here.”

Your face falls, instincts turning to drastic measures as you drop his hand, invading his space in a way he’s been careful to avoid, hands curling around the side of his face and the soft brush of his beard itching your palm before you’re leaning forward to press your lips against his own, eagerly pulling him toward you.

Joel’s quick, though. He rips your hands away, fingers tightening around your bicep harshly.

“Don’t try that shit again,” he growls, “ain’t no fuckin’ choice in you stayin’ here.”

You try to yank away from him but it was pointless.

“Are you gonna listen or do I need to drag you out?”

Your jaw tightens and you slackening under his grip and while he could let you go, he doesn’t.

You stumble behind as he pulls you with him, up the stairs, around the hall and into the living room until you’re standing at the door and he’s releasing you to jab a finger in your face, flinching with every flick as it grows closer, making you go nearly cross eyed. 

“You give me even the slightest amount of trouble while we’re out and I won’t hesitate to leave you behind,” Joel threatens, that sinking feeling of regret swirling in his gut the moment your expression softens.

She fucking trusts you, he reminds himself.

As slippery as that slope could be, he’s got a responsibility. 

You nod shakily and the tightness of his grip pierces your soul, immediately submitting to his hold as he jerks you to face forward and reaches around to grab the knob, chest pressed against your back as you step outside.

A swirling wind greets you, whistling its own kind of warning as Joel drags you through the brittle, dried grass. Your boots crunch against the frosty ground, doing your best to keep pace with him, breath puffing out in frantic clouds. Cold air bites your skin and the crunch of your boots, now on gravel, fills the silence between you. It’s tense. 

You follow him to the stable as he releases his grip on you, to the weapon compound, close at his side as he steers the horse to the front gate, looking rather apologetic to his brother who seems to sense the situation between you and Joel and quickly averts the watchful eyes of others with his voice, calling off the list of locations and names like a roll call.

“Get on,” he orders, softer now but still edged and you oblige, feeling a hovering touch of his hand over your thigh as you climb onto the horse and lean back, making room for him to climb on.

Joel’s arms snake behind him to wrap yours around his jacket before he grabs the reins and clicks his tongue. The horse hesitates, feeling your combined weight, then lurches forward. You cling to the saddle as Joel steadies you with a firm grip, holding you close as Jackson fades from view.

The solace you’ve come to appreciate slipping through your fingers, even if temporary, made the pit in your stomach grow rapidly.

The landscape stretches out in muted colors. Bare trees reach like fingers, tendrils to the gray sky and frost clings to their branches. Joel’s silence feels like a wall between you, and you bite your lip to fight the chill that’s creeping into your bones, shrugging the hood of your coat over your head as you bury your face in between his shoulder blades, eyes peeking over.

It’s a strange kind of comfort for Joel the way you settle into him, close and warm. 

As much as he tried to keep his distance, there was always a loophole.

“You gonna explain what that was back there?” Joel asks, knowing his questioning is pointless, the roar of the wind and the bumpy ride making it nearly impossible for any type of silent communication, “I don’t want you doin’ that anymore, thinkin’ you need to act that way to…I don’t know—do whatever you’re wanting to do,”

The landscape rolls by like a somber, black and white film strip; broken fences and abandoned cars sprouting from the ground, dead infected and rotting animals, houses abandoned. It wasn’t as normal now, living in a lively place with such a dichotomy only a ride away, reminding you just how temporary your life was in this world.

“Were you scared to leave Jackson?” he asks curiously, trying to decipher what he could.

You hesitate, unsure how to answer. It was a yes and no question—safe was anywhere with Joel, but you were still weary. You don’t answer immediately, so Joel assumed that wasn’t the problem.

“Is it the weather? Don’t like the snow?” you shake your head almost immediately, uncaring for the elements, finding that dying from frostbite or heatstroke were both equally miserable.

“The lodge?” he asks after a long, drawn out silence—the ride was still long, more difficult as the snow began to pick up, falling in thick sheets, “Is there somethin’ out here you ain’t told us?”

You shift slightly, the leather of Joel’s jacket creaking beneath your cheek. The question hangs heavy, like the snow. It’s too much to explain, the knot of reasons tangled inside you. You press your face into his back again, wishing you could dissolve into him and stay there. You feel his sigh before you hear it, learning the way his body works through touch and sound. It’s not disappointment—it’s understanding. 

But, that frightens you too.

Joel makes a few short stops along the way, simple checks on smaller lookouts that don't even require you to get off the horse, keeping watch as he was in and out within a couple of minutes, eyes always on you no matter where he moved.

You can sense the way his anger lingers in his face and the stiffness of his shoulders but his instinct to protect is stronger, shoving the sturdy emotion aside to traverse through the heavy storm until, hours later, the lodge comes into view, your heart hammering in your chest.

Your fingers tighten around the lapels of his jacket and he looks down, watching the way you strangle the fabric under your grip, shifting slightly on the saddle as he slows to a stop just inside the lodge before Joel helps you off the horse and ties him, leaving you for a moment that feels nothing short of a century, frozen in your spot as you hold your bag close to your chest.

“At some point you gotta start talkin’,” his voice startles you as it comes from the shadows, jacket stripped as he kneeled down at the fire pit near the center of the room, working quickly to warm the place up, “it ain’t about inconvenience either, it could get you killed.”

You move silently and sit nearby, eyes downturned and lips pulled tight.

It’s impossible to explain, the way your throat constricts at any attempt to speak, like a knee jerk reaction as you anticipate the strike of a hand or foot, a lash at your back or the hot prick of a cigarette into your skin. 

You still felt it occasionally, the phantom pain.

Your bottom lip trembles as they part, desperately wanting to make the attempt but knowing your body won’t let you out of self-preservation. Joel doesn’t see the struggle, but he can see your fingers fidgeting, restlessness laying in wait. 

“Did you bring your paper and pen with you?” Joel asks, sounding fatherly in a way that hints of a life lived and lost, “You can’t just ask the way you did this morning for no reason, I want answers,”

You nod obediently, riffling through your bag for the items.

Joel waits until they're in your hand and the fire crackles to life before he asks his first question.

“Is it the lodge? Is that why you wanted to stay in Jackson?” he asks, watching you scribble down a swift answer.

Yes. But, more.

He leans forward on his knees and into your space to read the scribbled note, sighing tiredly.

It isn’t what he wanted, obvious in the roll of his eyes.

“Explain,” He says tensely, “Stop bein’ so damn cryptic, I don’t like that shit,”

They followed me here. I hid. 

Joel’s face contorts in confusion.

“They followed you that far?”

It was their job. Bad men, all of them. They enjoy it. I hid and they didn’t find me. That time. I was worried they might find me again. They didn’t that time.

Joel examines the concentration on your phase as you write out the words, taking the notebook as you gently shove it into his palm, large fingers wrapping around the notepad.

“Who is they?” Joel asks, “You keep writin’ they,” his fingernail scratches over the word, leaving an indent in the paper, “We’re tight about patrols out here, we woulda saw ‘em. You sure it wasn’t someone else? Maybe just some random raider? They stroll through from time to time lookin’ for shelter.”

No. Not random. They wore emblems, gold and threaded to look like an anchor. There are men we serve, higher-ups. Then ones that follow a code, like an army. The men after me were hunters. Trackers. Do you understand? Not for animals.

“Sick fucks,” Joel says mostly to himself as he reads over your writing,

Don’t leave me. Please. I will do anything.

His earlier words echo in your head, seeming to cross his own mind at the same time.

You shove the notepad at him hastily, hands trembling slightly,

“Don’t get worked up," Joel says, voice a little gruff, "I’m not leavin’.”

Safe. He writes it out underneath your own words. 

Thick. Heavy. 

He nods.

Suddenly, as Joel feels around in his pocket as he stands, he comes across an object Tommy had handed him before he left, careful as he approaches you and reaches for your hand, pressing the solid weight of the object into it.

It was your knife, cleaned up and sharpened to a dangerous point.

Joel makes a noise of warning, fingers tight around your wrist.

“This ain’t yours to keep,” Joel explains, “jus’ while we’re out here, in case you come across an animal or something, it comes right back to me when we leave, understood?”

Begrudgingly, you nod.

“Put it away,” he instructed, watching as you closed the knife and stuffed it into your pocket.

You couldn’t explain it, but the frustration in him still simmered, unsure if it was because of you or not. Joel was a sorrowful man, carrying enough guilt for a thousand men—it could be that he was just having a day, desperate for a moment to himself.

It comes a while later after you’ve both settled in and the place was filled with warmth, “Keep watch, don’t wander—I’ll sleep for a couple hours then take over, got it?”

You nod quickly, perched on the wide, open window as you watch the snowfall. 

Something about it was oddly therapeutic, looking over to watch the scowl on Joel’s face soften as he fell into a deep slumber, leaning half reclined against a wall with his jacket balled up by his head to double as a pillow.

Hours pass without incident, thankfully. Joel said two, but it was already four and he was still sleeping, snoring now as he’s slumped down into a more horizontal position, growing slightly restless as the storm had calmed and the sun was shining overhead, desperate for a few moments of fresh air now that you were here, feeling comfortable enough in the quiet and with Joel’s presence that you could step out for a moment and breathe, putting on your shoes and coat quickly as you slipped out the back door of the lodge and watched a pair of birds on a branch as they hopped beside each other, chirping quietly.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt this calm or relaxed, glancing over at Joel sheepishly despite his obliviousness. 

You inhale deeply, letting the crisp, post-storm air fill your lungs. 

The lodge is silent behind you, save for the faint sound of Joel’s snoring. The fresh air feels like a relief, a moment of stillness that you hadn’t realized you needed. That you deserved.

Your eyes follow the pair of birds a moment longer, chirping softly to each other.

It’s peaceful—almost too peaceful. 

A small prickle of unease creeps up your spine, but you shake it off.

It’s just quiet. 

Nothing’s wrong.

Then—

You feel your throat swell.

The snap of a twig.

You freeze. The birds flutter away, startled. Your breath catches.

You don’t have time to turn before an arm locks around your chest, a rough hand clamping over your mouth. You couldn’t scream even if you wanted to.

“Oh, easy, ea-sy,” the stranger coos with a sickening softness, “don’t wanna wake him up, do ya?”

The faceless attacker holds you tight, something sharp and jagged at your back as he guides you backwards, further away from Joel.

Your pulse pounds in your ears as you struggle, but he’s strong. 

He reeks of sweat and damp clothes, his grip unyielding.

"You people think you’re so damn careful… but you’re just easy pickings if you ain’t watchin’,” he sounds so smug and amused, greedy as he dragged you further and further away, feet stumbling out beneath you as you fell into the snow against him, a grunt shooting from his chest but ultimately it was followed by a spine-chilling chuckle, a hand slipping underneath the material of your shirt and over your abdomen, “been camped out here all day watchin’ you both, thought you were a dime, though–couldn’t pass up the opportunity,”

You twist sharply, managing to get free, clawing at his arm as you shove it away. He grunts in irritation but grabs at your ankle, yanking you back down as you fall to your ass, silently groaning at the pain.

"Feisty," he mutters. "I like it. Ain’t much fun otherwise."

You’ve fought for your life plenty of times and this was no different.

It shouldn’t surprise you that misfortune met you at every turn, allowing yourself to fall into a false confidence only to be disappointed once more as the man looms over you, a shadow of menace. You kick wildly, connecting with his shin. A low snarl escapes him.

“Little bitch,” he hisses, shaking his leg as if to brush off the sting. 

But, it gives you a moment to scramble backward on your hands and heels, snow biting at your palms as you shoved your hand into your pocket to find your knife, watching as he stalked toward you in a pure rage, opening your mouth in a scream you know will never come, but then he’s tripping, scrambling to catch his bearings over you.

The tip of the blade slices through his guts like butter, feeling the bile rise in your throat at the sensation and the warm spread of blood over your hand, desperately trying to force his weight off of you, but his hands finds your face, thumbs reaching for your eyes in any attempt to injure you but then there’s a shot ringing out, startling the both of you.

Simultaneously, the man jerks violently, his hands going slack around your face as he falls with a gurgling choke. Blood flows down his neck and onto you, drenching your clothes in a way that makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You scramble to your knees, backing away without looking toward the gunman as you panic, wiping the blood from your skin and into the snow, desperate to rid yourself of the thick fluid before Joel’s invading your space, fingers tightening into your coat to yank you upright as he shoves you back against a tree, blinded with pure rage.

He had saved you. He was angry, sure. But, he saved your life. Again.

“Are you fucking stupid, girl?!” he asks, his tone tight and harsh, met with a meek nod.

“Wrong answer,” He snaps, “I said two hours, then you wake me. I said not to wander and you did—so answer me again, are you—fucking stu—”

He doesn’t register that sting of your teeth in his bottom lip until your hand curls around the back of his neck, tongue spearing into his mouth as his mouth parts in surprise, your fingers tangling into his hair as you pull him into the kiss. 

Thank you, it breathes.

His grip slackens for the briefest moment before turning to steel again, fingers knotted in your clothes, twisting and pulling you closer. The violence of him feels like a lifeline, like something sure and solid in this brutal world. He’s safe. 

Safe.

He shoves you harder against the tree, rough bark biting through your coat as his teeth gnash against yours, tangled breaths turning to steam in the cold.

Your head spins, heart shuddering up into your throat, and you lose yourself in the way he feels, like fury itself. His hand moves from your clothes to splay over your belly, warm and forceful where the knife was just seconds before on your attacker who lay lifeless on the snowy ground.

You can’t stop thinking. 

The coppery taste of blood lingers everywhere: on your clothes, on the dead man, on Joel’s mouth now. The snow around you is red-stained as his hands roam over you, your own hands mirroring his unspoken neediness as you tear into the belt of his jeans, feeling him undo your own in tandem, unable to look one another directly in the eye at that moment, desperate for connection by other means.

He shouldn’t be allowing this, but the urge to consume your gratitude is stronger.

His thumb fumbles with the button of your jeans, and you’re practically writhing to get them off, burning up despite the chill. You sigh internally as he manages to get them free, yanking them far enough down your thighs before he’s turning you against the tree.

The world fades around you; it’s just him, just you, each breath mingling as he frees himself from his pants. You feel his heat press against you, insistent, frenzied, somehow apologetic as it fits between your thighs.

You feel his fingers fit between your legs and spread between your folds like instinct but you’re shaking your head, hand clawing at back of his neck as you arch your ass into him, a silent plea for him to just fuck you instead, needy as you bring his mouth to yours with a distinct hunger, swallowing up his ragged breaths as he rubs his thumb and pointer finger over the head of his cock and through your slick before he’s stretching you open with little grace, mouth open in a silent gasp as your free hand grabs at his hip.

“Fuck,” he breathes into your mouth, words dissolving into a groan as he sets an unrelenting pace. The tree bark is rough against your skin, but you don’t care, the rawness of it only adds to the frenzy growing between you. Hastily undressed and filthy, the kiss-smudged blood across his face smearing into yours.

He’s practically holding you up like this, his grip slipping over your hips as his mouth finds your neck, biting down just enough to bruise or draw blood of your own, not entirely sure.

His thrusts breath raw desperation, nails clawing at bare skin as he hisses into your neck.

There’s nothing soft about it, no measured rhythm, just a brutal need for each other. 

Joel is acutely aware of the way your body is responding to him, silent sobs racking your chest as you pull him impossibly closer, “I gotcha,” he says, “I feel you, you’re gonna give it to me, aren’t ya? S’right there, I feel it,”

And he wants it more than he was comfortable admitting to himself, the satisfaction of filling the insatiable need you had craved from him.

His hand snakes over your mouth, smothering sounds that would never surface, but the gesture is heady, biting at the skin of his palm until you knew it would sting.

Desperation blurs into pleasure, and you feel it shuddering through you like an electric current and the world comes rushing in again all at once: the cold air nipping at sweat-slick skin, branches clawing at your chest like a bitter, jealous lover. It’s hard to tell, the way you both are clawing at this for dear life, but you think this is maybe as close as the two of you have ever been, filthy and frantic and burning up together as you come, feeling Joel pull out in enough time to spill into his fist, low and drawn-out grunts that had you cunt pulsing, resting dissociatively against the tree.

It was the most human you’ve felt in years.

“Get inside,” Joel says suddenly, pulling you back to reality—surprisingly, his voice is calmer.

And for once, you don’t argue.

–

Joel watches you change, trading the bloodied clothes for fresh ones and wiping you down in between, a silent but intimate gesture that neither of you outwardly address, eyes scanning his face carefully as he taps at your chin so he can wipe underneath your neck.

And you don’t speak about it.

Joel doesn’t even acknowledge it.

He takes care of the body, stays on watch despite your quiet persistence to help

But, as your hand trembles at your side as you approach him beside the fire pit, his fingers thread into your own, a heavy weight holding you down until it stops shaking. You can feel the small tremor on his own, harbored for different reasons. But, it calms him too.

You felt like there was finally equal ground to stand on.

–

When you arrive back in Jackson a couple days later, Joel relays information about the raider with some omissions, only suggesting that there be more frequent checks, but as you and Joel settle into a routine, things become almost…too easy.

He’s always expectant of your knife the moment you approach the gates, handing it over without problem, but just as easily sliding it into your own as you settle into your patrol spot for whatever rotation you both ended up on, still increasingly weary around others that weren’t Joel, you find a similar protection with Tommy, though not entirely comparable. 

Tommy only took you out so far as to teach you how to shoot and clear out infected that were a safe enough distance they couldn’t do any real harm, only swarms passing through.

Joel still hasn’t initiated any touch with you since that day, but his actions are increasingly more intimate despite his body language around you—though, that doesn’t mean he stops you.

Maybe it was how he justified his own righteousness, that he was absolving himself of the guilt that he had knowingly allowed you to attach yourself to him, almost selfishly.

With Ellie’s growing independence becoming more and more obvious, Joel leans toward your odd connection and the ease it brings to his routine.

You’re shivering over a cup of coffee one morning despite your layers and blanket wrapped around your shoulders, the chill making your bones ache.

“You can sleep up here, you know,” Joel tells you, “the couch is comfortable, s’close to the fire, too.”

You shrug nonchalantly, sipping softly at the strong brew.

“Sleep up here,” he tries again, a command, your hesitation curling around the steaming cup as your eyes connect, nodding hesitantly.

His mug scuffs the counter as his fingers curl around the ceramic, his hip settling into the edge as he leans into the surface and you meet him with an honest gaze.

“Are you only agreeing because I’m tellin’ you to?”

Sheepishly, you nod.

Joel doesn’t harp on it, though. It was a small battle won, less worry of you catching frostbite or a cold down in the basement, your presence more apparent as you move into the neutral living space, there when he wakes and when he retires for the night, quiet and somber.

Then, there was an instance with the shower that became routine. 

Your skin caked with dirt and re-opened cuts crusted with days old blood, a particularly rough run-in with a group of infected that Joel had dealt with mostly, you trailing close behind and taking out the few stragglers.

Joel always opted for privacy anymore—save the moment at the lodge when you had shed your blood stained clothes and Joel had to make sure none of it was your own, but your body was exhausted as was your mind, losing your footing as you stumbled into the sink and made a soft noise that Joel’s never heard before.

He’s never heard anything from you, really. 

Only your breathing, heavier in moments of anxiety or despair, but soft as you slept.

You were hunched over the tub and half-dressed, your head pounding as the blood rushed there, eyes squeezing shut as you bit at the inside of your cheek and Joel’s presence is there, but far, hovering near the door as he just needed eyes on you to confirm you weren’t hurt.

As the door closes and you’re pushing back to your feet, you yank it back with a similar strength and Joel watches your hand reach for him, curling in the fabric of his shirt as you silently plead for him to come closer.

Help me, your eyes plead.

Quietly, you guide the shirt over his head and his mind finally catches up, reaching behind you as he turns the water on until the bathroom was smothered with steam, his eyes wondering anywhere but you as you both stepped in naked under the stream, guided by Joel to turn away as he washed you in silence, careful and methodical, leaning into his touch as his fingers curl around the back of your neck to wash your hair.

It happens once or twice again, based around the frequency of patrols and whenever the house was empty and though Joel is hesitant to your touch, eventually he gives in, eyes usually closed as you face him, hands tugging through his dirtied hair and over his chest, a low rumble as your fingers curl a little too low, grazing over the curve of his ass before his fingers catch your wrist and his eyes pry open, shaking his head.

Eventually, his resolve fades.

He tries, but your persistence is steadfast, growing needful to his proximity in every facet of your life and the kisses are shy at first, gentle presses to his shoulder or arm, occasionally over his chest or neck, his hands hovering but never touching without necessity. 

He doesn’t like to talk, either. But, he became familiar with the scar on your lower abdomen, just above your pelvis and thick, the skin clearly marred but not like the others on your body.

You always guide his hand away out of discomfort, unsure how to explain without using words.

Though, given what you’ve told him and the behaviors you’ve exhibited, Joel can make a guess.

He blurts it out one night as you shower until the water grows cold.

“They take something from you?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

You nod slightly, hands curving over his shoulders to dig into the muscle and knead, his eyes downturned and dark, intimidating as always.

The doctors performed a salpingectomy on many, including you, unsafe and at risk of death given the environment and lack of understanding, there was no telling what kind of damage they had done, but the most important part was that reproduction was null, some sick and twisted belief to keep women obedient and available. 

You don’t remember much, but it was years ago.

Your face heats as you mimic a pregnant belly, ignoring how his hand guides over your breast with the soapy rag as you lock eyes with him, shaking your head.

His face twitches emotionlessly, nostrils flaring, “I’m sorry,” and he means it.

Joel remembers the harsh accusation he’d thrown at you, assuming your motives without understanding or knowing, but this—it gives him perspective. 

–

A few hours later, you wake from a night terror.

It was dark, pitch black and quiet, but you couldn’t move.

Your mouth opens to scream but nothing comes out, thrashing against invisible bindings until you come to, Joel’s hands locked around your shoulders to keep you still, shaking you back to reality.

“Hey, hey,” his voice is an instant drug that soothes, eyes ripping open and searching frantically until they land on his face, “breathe, kid—you’re here, not there,”

Joel knew—of course he did.

He stays until you calm, pushing up on your hands to sit up and reaching for his arm as he stands, repeating the same gesture in his palm that he’s come to understand, crystal clear.

Stay, you gesture.

“Okay,” he agrees quietly, but you’re pulling him closer, fingers curling against his sides and Joel shakes his head, giving you some resistance, “nono—ain’t enough room for that, alright?”

Your grip tightens, begging.

Joel exhales through his nose in defeat, his hands twitching slightly where they still hold you. 

He doesn’t even need to ask, your footsteps following closely behind his own as he turns, padding back toward his room down the hall, slipping into his bed and under the sheets without a word, the weight of him next to you enough to settle your anxiety.

The second time you crawl into his bed, it’s after another nightmare. 

He doesn’t say anything—just lets out a tired sigh and shifts over, leaving space for you. You don’t touch him, not at first. Just tuck yourself into the blankets, facing away, the tension in your body easing just enough for sleep to take hold.

Then, it happens again. And again.

Every night, the same thing. 

You slip in, quiet as ever, and Joel tells himself it’s fine. That he can keep his distance.

But, you always end up entangled by the time you wake.

Your cheek pressed into his chest. His arm curled protectively around your waist. 

His breath in your hair.

Him, around you.

Joel knows he should stop this. 

He should tell you to stay in your own damn bed.

That it ain't right.

That he can’t be what you need him to be.

One night, he’s not asleep when you slip into his bed.

He feels the mattress dip, the hesitant pause before you settle in beside him, close but not touching. Joel keeps his eyes shut, breath steady, pretending he doesn’t notice.

But, then your fingers ghost over his wrist, then around his waist, your knee shifting between his thighs as you curl into him and nuzzle against his neck, lips pressing into his pulse point.

He stiffens. Feels you hesitate, then try again, pressing a kiss into the sensitive skin of his neck.

"Kid," he mutters, voice low, warning.

He can feel the neediness in your touch, eyes flicking up shyly to look at him as he bows his head to look down at you.

"You do everything I tell you to," he murmurs, and he’s right—voice rough with sleep. "If I told you to go back to your own bed, would you listen?"

Silence.

Then, your fingers tighten slightly where they’re wrapped around him. A slow shake of your head to answer his question and a sigh from him that follows, it shakes the room.

It’s defeat.

Your lips brush against his jaw first, tentative, testing. When he doesn’t stop you, you press again, slower this time. Then lower, over the rough stubble of his throat.

Joel lets out a slow, shuddering breath. His hand finds your waist, fingers curling tight before forcing himself to loosen his grip.

His fingers twitch against your waist, the calloused pads pressing firm into the soft give of your skin. His breath is heavy, slow, controlled—because he has to be.

“Shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he says, but it’s weak, “can’t be.”

A hollow protest. 

You don’t say anything, just tilt your head, lips tracing along his pulse, feeling it thrum beneath your mouth, slow and steady. He’s always so calm, a constant beat that never skipped or faltered.

He exhales sharply, his grip tightening. “Christ,” he breathes, head tipping forward until his forehead brushes against yours. “You don’t listen worth a damn, do you?”

You shake your head again, more deliberate this time.

His eyes flick to yours, dark and searching, like he’s looking for something—one last excuse to push you away. 

But there’s nothing—he’s guilty for the need of this too.

And then you’re pulling him down, lips pressing against his, soft but insistent, and any last restraint he had left crumbles in an instant.

Joel groans against your mouth, deep and wrecked, his hands still hesitant to touch, only allowing it as you initiate, dragging his hand to your waist and down, under your thigh until he’s hiking your leg over his hip.

His lips part, teeth grazing your bottom lip before he kisses you again, harder, deeper, like he needs this just as much as you do. Like he’s just as desperate for it.

He is.

Joel pulls you closer, his hands gripping at your waist. His lips are slow at first, searching, but when you whimper against his mouth, something inside him snaps. It’s a sound he hasn’t heard, the first he’s ever heard, surprising yourself as the sound slips out, throat immediately collapsing on itself in fear, awaiting the hands that wrap tight around your throat and suffocate.

Instead, his hand fists in the fabric of your shorts, curling around your hip as your core drags over his groin, his quickly hardening cock pressing against the inside of your thigh.

"You don’t even think twice, do you?" he rasps against your lips, his breath warm and unsteady. "Just do whatever the hell I tell you without arguing?”

You nod, fingers threading into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. You nod, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. With your muteness, it meant Joel’s eyes had to be on you, constantly waiting and searching for communication.

It made you feel special, the way he was attentive to you at all times.

Your thumb drags over his lip as you pause for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in.

His eyes darken, something unreadable flickers across his face, and his hands still for a moment too, resting heavy on the bare skin of your leg.

“That ain’t always a good thing,” he tell you, but he’s already leaning back in, following the push into his shoulder as you raise your leg over his abdomen to straddle him, pressing him into the mattress as you grind down into him.

Somehow you know he’ll follow, that he won’t resist. 

He’s guilty, too—doesn’t ever think twice when it comes to you. That’s what eats at him the most—how easily you give in to each other. How willingly.

Your hands skim down his chest, nails scratching lightly over the thick hair there, down to his stomach, lower—until he catches your wrist, shaking his head.

"Slow down," he murmurs, voice strained, rough around the edges as your hips moving at a leisurely pace, glancing down to admire the thickness of his shaft as the fabric hugged around him, leaving no part of him to imagination, the thick trail of hair that disappeared beyond his waistband, "You don't gotta—"

You shake your head, mouth hung open in silence as your eyes fall shut.

A groan rumbles low in his chest as he lets go of you, hands falling to his side as lets you use him, slowly realizing what this moment was for you.

A reclamation of your own pleasure and autonomy, using his body for release that did nothing to benefit him outside of the wonder that bloomed into his features as you move more frantic, fabric bunching up higher at your hips as you chase your high, working toward the crest of your orgasm that you just couldn’t reach, face scrunching up in annoyance as you start to hit as his chest with soft blows, seemingly frustrated.

Joel knows what you need, skin against skin, flush connection.

You look up at him with a pout that pleads, screaming out.

And this time, he doesn’t stop you as you shift, a fury of limbs as you remove your shorts with impatience, tossing them to the floor as you tug at his sweats, his cock bobbing heavy and free, just far enough down his thighs that you can see how his balls tighten at your touch, taking a moment to admire him this way, his face contorted into something unreadable as your thumb slides over his slit, leaking with precum and his tip a blushed red.

Joel lets out a strangled breath, his head tilting back against the pillow as your fingers wrap around him, slow and deliberate, dragging over the length of him with just enough pressure to make his stomach tense.

He breathes slowly, his hands twitching at his sides, like he’s resisting the urge to touch you. 

To guide you. Teach you.

But he won’t—he lets you take what you need, lets you move at your own pace. 

You shift upwards, lining yourself up with him, the heat of your slick cunt teasing against his length, dragging up and down as you shudder at the feeling, the head of his cock sliding against your clit, the shlick of your bodies as they move against each other.

His jaw clenches, muscles taut as he watches.

Your fingers curl against his skin, nails pressing into him as you take all of him, inch by inch.

He finds himself waiting for a sound, silently begging for it, curious if you would sound as wrecked as he did, grunting when you’re seated fully, the burn mixing with pleasure so intense it makes your head fall forward. 

Joel’s breath stutters. His hands find your waist with your guidance, squeezing tight, like this was your attempt in trying to get him to ground himself too. He doesn’t move, doesn’t thrust up into you—just lets you adjust, lets you take him however you want. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, voice wrecked. “You feel that?” You nod, biting your lip, rolling your hips experimentally. A pleasurable ache growing in your gut. He groans, low and guttural, his fingers digging into your flesh. “That’s it,” he breathes. “Take what you need.” 

And you do.

You start slow, your hands braced against his chest, feeling the taut muscle beneath your palms as you roll your hips, testing, searching for something you’re not sure of. The stretch is deep, almost too much, but it’s what you want—what you need.

Joel’s hands grip your waist, like he’s holding himself back, like if he lets go, he’ll take over. 

But he doesn’t. He just watches, dark eyes hooded, jaw tight as you find your rhythm.

He exhales through gritted teeth, watching the way you move, the way your body trembles every time you take him deeper, your breasts shifting under your shirt as you bounce, finding himself speaking before the words filter, like his pleasure has a mind of its own.

"You always listen so well, don’t you?"

Your breath hitches at the praise, the smallest whimper slipping from your lips, and Joel's fingers tighten on your hips, not guiding you, but steadying you, anchoring you to him. You’ve never made sounds like this before, not even by accident.

With him, the fear of retaliation has begun to ease. Each noise that slips isn’t met with anger or rage, but astonishment, eyes widening in wonder.

“You like that?” he asks, voice rough, like it’s been dragged down a gravel road, "Doin’ what you’re told?"

You nod frantically, grinding down harder, desperate for more.

For him, you think. Only for him.

Give me safety. I’ll give you everything.

He curses under his breath, his restraint fraying at the edges. "Fuck—look at you," he groans, his fingers digging into your flesh now, a warning, his own control slipping. "Takin’ me so fuckin’ good."

A shudder runs through you at his words, your walls fluttering around him, making him hiss.

"Keep goin'," he murmurs, lifting up slightly as he settles on an elbow, the thumb of his free hand stroking your skin, the tension in his body betraying how much effort it takes to stay still, “I feel ya, how bad you need it,”

Your fingers reach for him, prying his grip from your waist and guiding his hands up, over your body, pressing them against your breasts, your stomach, anywhere you can, until he gets it—until he stops holding back. He rises to meet you, arms wrapping around your waist similar to how you had cornered him on the couch in the basement, but the implication is different.

A deep, guttural groan escapes him, and then his hands are moving on their own, sliding down to grip your ass, to spread you wider as he thrusts up into you, slow but deep, pushing a broken moan from your throat.

"Yeah?" he rasps in surprise, voice strained. "Is that what you wanted?"

You nod helplessly, nails scraping over his chest as you try to keep up with his pace, but Joel doesn’t let you. He takes over now, fucking up into you with long, deliberate strokes, each one dragging a whimper from your lips.

More sounds, he needed more sounds.

"You gotta tell me," he pleads, his grip almost bruising now. "I need to hear it."

You open your mouth, but all that comes out is a breathy gasp, your head falling forward against his shoulder, and Joel growls, wrapping the arm around your back tight to keep you pressed against him.

"Say it," he demands, voice thick with need as he looks up at you, "Tell me what you need. I know you can—you’re doin’ so good," It was such a stark contrast, the praise.

Your lips part, voice shaky, barely above a whisper and broken, your voice foreign to your ears as it leaves your mouth

"You."

Joel freezes beneath you, stilling for half a second, something unreadable flickering across his face before it’s gone, replaced with something darker, something deeper.

He wants to fucking ruin you and build you back up watching as the tears form in your eyes, knowing what the action meant, the energy and bravery it took, he doesn’t push it aside.

His chest rises sharply against yours, breath stalling like he’s not sure he heard right. His fingers twitch against your skin, gripping tighter, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.

You feel the weight of it, the shift in the air. 

His pulse hammers against your palm where you press against his throat, his body locked beneath you like the words had cut him deeper than any knife ever could.

Your voice.

You’ve never spoken before.

Not to him. Not to anyone.

And now, with your body wrapped around him, shaking, desperate, it’s him you ask for. 

Him you need.

His name is on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say it. 

You just press closer, urging him with slow rolls of your hips, hoping he understands, hoping he doesn’t make you say it again—because you don’t think you can.

And then, Joel moves.

Slowly. Carefully.

His hands roam, sweeping over your back, your waist, fingertips ghosting over the curve of your ribs like he’s memorizing you, feeling you breathe. His touch is softer now, reverent, as if the moment itself has changed, evolved into something neither of you expected.

You nod to an unasked question, pressing your lips against his cheek, his jaw, anywhere you can reach, trying to coax him back, trying to keep the moment from slipping away.

His hips snap up, slow but deep, dragging a soft, broken moan from your throat that makes his grip tighten. A noise barely audible.

"That’s it," he breathes, his voice thick with something you can’t explain. His hands guide you now, steady but unrelenting, moving you with him, driving deeper, harder, every roll of your hips pulling another sound from your lips, another shudder from your body.

He drinks in every noise, every gasp, every trembling sigh like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Collecting them all and committing them to memory.

"Keep talkin’ to me," he mutters, voice ragged, desperate. "Let me hear you."

But, you can’t.

The pleasure is too much, coiling tight, pulling you under, and all you can do is cling to him, gasping against his throat as your body starts to shake through your orgasm. The energy it takes to speak, the courage bleeding you dry. You’d lost your voice again.

Joel feels it—your unraveling, your breaking, the way your walls flutter around him—and it undoes him completely. Your hands cradle your face, tilting his head back so you can see him, his dark eyes burning into yours as he thrusts up hard as he spills inside of you, not entirely thinking as he does it.

"That’s it, baby," he praises, “Keep squeezin’ me, I’m right here,”

And for a long moment, neither of you move. 

The only sound is his ragged breaths, the pounding of your heart.

His lips brush your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin.

"You," he murmurs to you, soft, like it means something to him too.

Maybe it does, you weren’t sure.

–

He reaches you this way, through connection and touch.

Sex or something similar, the intensity of the moment clouding your thoughts and relaxing your worry, and his too.

It was a give and take with each other, distracting Joel from his constant stream of troubling thoughts and worries, still never approaching you—it was always under your guidance.

Maybe it’s selfish. Maybe it’s wrong. But every time your hands find him, every time you press yourself into his space, silently asking for comfort, for connection, he gives in.

The moment you touch him, the constant, gnawing dread in his mind quiets.

Just for a little while. And selfishly, he needs it.

Your fingers trail up his chest, light, uncertain, tracing the scars like a map. Joel watches, his breath slow and steady, his muscles tense beneath your touch—but he doesn’t stop you.

He never does.

You cornered him in the kitchen this particular night, his hands curled over the edge of the sink with his head hung, chest heaving like he had just woken up from his own nightmare, sneaking out of bed but not quite enough that you wouldn’t notice.

When you press your lips against his skin, soft and searching, he exhales like he’s been holding it in for too long. 

Like you were the answer.

"You sure?" he asks, his voice rough, low, but there’s no demand in it. 

No expectation. 

Only restraint. 

He’s not sure how much longer he can hold back, between the constant time spent together and the nights spent inside of you, allowing your greediness to take hold.

He pushed his own aside, stuffed until it was boiling over.

You nod, and that’s all it takes.

His hands find your waist, pulling you against him, guiding you the way you he needs, the way he knows you need too, his grip firm, like he’s holding something fragile—something breakable.

That's what this was, after all.

A delicate balance. A silent understanding.

You give each other this, and in return, he gives you himself, as do you—fully, completely, no barriers, no walls.

When he moves it is slow and deliberate, when his mouth finds your throat and his fingers grip your neck, guiding you against and up on the counter, fingers spreading underneath your top before it’s torn over your head, it was all the same. His palms curve around your neck, pulling you toward him as his lips capture yours in a surprisingly tender kiss, lips parting immediately as his tongue licks along your own, mirroring his touch as you spread your legs to make room for him. 

You don’t need anything else but this.

Only this.

Only him.

Only you.

But, there’s that gnawing in Joel’s chest that makes him out to be the monster he knows he can be, taking advantage of your trauma and pushing your limits, using you like you’ve been used before.

He’s no better, he thinks.

If anything, he’s worse.

[seoul-bros]

Jikook Week 55 Complete ✔️ (24-31/12/2024)

Jikook have finalized their 55th week in the military and 70% of their service is now complete. It's time to look back at this week in 2016. It was the end of the year and BTS were busy with a series of shows performing Blood Sweat and Tears and Fire from the Wings album. They were down one man because Yoongi had an accident at the dorm on 20/12 and was told to rest for a week.

Watching these shows again, it is clear that this was a special time for BTS and especially for Jimin. It reminded me of RM's comments on Minimoni music earlier this year. Jimin's confidence may have suffered ups and downs in the 11 years since their debut but in December 2016 he was definitely riding high.

On Christmas Eve, BTS appeared on the Music Core Year End Stage with one of their iconic Blood, Sweat and Tears performances.

They did a live that day and exchanged Secret Santa gifts. They were in high spirits after a successful stage, lots of joking and laughter.

Suga received vitamins from JK. JK was gifted fabric deodorizer by Taehyung who received snacks from Jimin.

Jimin and J-Hope both got underwear from J-Hope and RM respectively. RM received snacks from Jin. Jin received an Suga acrylic photo stand from Suga (how he rolled his eyes when he unpacked that gift - oh Yoongi). That acrylic photo stand made multiple appearances on Twitter and in Bangtan Bombs for the rest of that year.

V & Jimin were in their partners in crime phase and filmed and posted video clips together. Tae sang "Have yourself a merry little Christmas" followed by Jimin singing the question "Taehyung, is it fun to do something like this?" V's love of Christmas songs sure goes back a long time.

On Boxing Day, BTS appeared at SBS Gayo Daejun.

This show included one of Jimin's legendary dance performances. He was part of an ensemble of idols showing off their contemporary dance skills in the opening show.

Personally, I think he did a fantastic job and from the sounds of the cheering, it's clear that the audience was impressed. However, as usual Jimin wasn't satisfied and was thinking of ways it could have been better. I'm so glad he and JK are being kinder to themselves these days.

On the 29/12 BTS filmed KBS Gayo Daechukjae with three group stages including this one for Fire.

Jimin also had a dance off with Taemin. Jimin was working hard and Taemin noted his puffy eyes with concern. I remember reading something about Jimin collapsing from exhaustion as soon as he got off stage after this showdown but I can't find where I saw that.

JK was also busy, performing I'm a Flying Butterfly as part of a group stage with the other 97 liners.

Tae's birthday happened during the shooting of the show and BTS celebrated with cake backstage.

On New Year's Eve, BTS filmed their final show of the year, MBC Gayo Daejejun. JK was featured in the BTS performance of Rainism.

Jimin posted their practice session on Twitter "It was great!!!!! You all worked hard." Always supporting his Jungkookie.

"The youngest is so cute"

Cr. to OPs

Post Date: 31/12/2024

[brittle-doughie]

It appears that Y/N Cookie just can't catch a break from these folks.

It'd be honestly interesting to see how some cookies would react to Y/N finally snapping back or getting enraged from all the stress.

- 🐼 Anon.

(p.s: Remember that your mental health is important too! Please take a break if you need one!)

Halt! The Restriction Mayhem Update!

This and a reply on that post about restraining orders gave me this idea heheha

Greetings, Cookie Runners. I’m Brittle, a writer for the CR x Reader tag.

Today, I’ll be introducing this totally not made up new event starring Y/N Cookie, a cookie that that can never seem to catch a break from the shower of attention their fellow cookies give them.

After many major incidents involving a feud between cookies, Y/N Cookie is at their wits end for some peace and quiet, and so has decided to have some time apart..with restraining orders! Will Y/N Cookie finally get their tranquility with this method? You’ll find out by playing the new event mode!

In this event, you’ll play various stages themed around certain clingy cookies, collect the evidence jellies you need to file the restraining order against the Cookie.

You can attempt the harder difficulties after completing Normal Mode with Hard and Intense Mode, which will up the challenge in stages and evidence!

For costumes, Scorpion and Cocoa will be receiving Epic costumes while a Super Epic is ready for Y/N Cookie, it’s Y/N Cookie’s Super Epic Costume, Absolute Heartstopper! There’s a new sheriff in town and your heart is their bounty!

That’s all that will be shared for today, hopefully Y/N Cookie survives the wait for the update and try not to get dogpiled on by upset cookies. Take care bye byeeee

Coupon Code: RUN Y/N COOKIE RUN (To clarify, this isn’t an actual code, but you probably already knew that)

Normal Mode:

Kumiho Cookie

“W-what? But darling, you can’t be serious!”

Cocoa Cookie

(Cocoa just stands there, confused and heartbroken)

Ninja Cookie

“…..Why would you do that? Did I come off too strong?”

Hard Mode:

Okchun Cookie

“I just wanted to make you feel welcome in our village. Why leave when your home is here…”

Lilac Cookie

“A piece of paper won’t stop me from you..”

Timekeeper Cookie

“Understood.” (Tears restraining order out from the fabric of reality. Thank Tree you had copies)

Intense Mode:

Sea Fairy Cookie

“I am very passionate about you, Y/N Cookie. Is there anything wrong with that?”

Fire Spirit Cookie

“HA HA! NO PIECE OF PAPER IS KEEPING FROM YOU, Y/N COOKIE!”

Lotus Dragon Cookie

“That’s a difficult wish to fulfill, Y/N Cookie. A dragon’s desire for a companion is strong, regardless of any restrictions like this one, a dragon WILL get what they desire eventually…”

[emilydorp]

Do you have any favorite gtop moments ever? Like, moments you cant stop thinking about

OMG OKI LEZ GO ANONY (again, my taste in GTOP moments is weird af, lmao).

They got married in front of every single person ever. Like please, that's just iconic.

2. Another on of them being married (and that's on periodt luv).

3. Yo, what upppp!

4. Kwon Jiyong, please do this again once you publicly return to your husband :'))

5. What was this even? Like. How married were they? Gosh.

6. I am obsessed with the pull up scene from the Secret Garden Parody. Tabi's jaw fighting for his life, his red ears, his EYES that can't hide his lust oh lorddd. I think about that scene way more than any sane human being should. I knowwww it's fan service but. Y'all. Y'all see how real it is at the same time, right?

7. GTOP proving they're in the GTOP tag (and are one of us).

8. This damn rainbow painting (what is its deeper significance? And these are just two of the MANY posts they made about this damn painting).

TOP's Instagram on 170427:

9. What even is this? Like.. what is even happening?

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 치맥👑💕 (@like_almond_and_chocolate)

10. Is it a wonder YB is low-key tired of them? I'm too. Like. We get it. Y'all are soulmates. Good for you.

11. Kwon Jiyong, we GET it, you love your husband. Please don't stop.

12. Tabi you are not slick. Like at all.

13. Iconnn! So many delulu and not so delulu moments, so much to unpack, there's so much content here, they're really giving "We just started datingggg, hihihihihi".

14. This moment makes me melt. Every. Single. Time. Really, when Choi Seunghyun decides to not hide his feelings for GD.. Pure magic. Look at his eyes. Look at him looking at Ji. Just. LOOK.

15. ListenNn. When Ji chose Ri to be his partner for shopping in Run BB Scout, Seunghyun was the world's most jealous bish (go watch the entire sceneee, that's his jealousssss smile, yes it isssss, GD agrees that he was jealous during Weekly Idol and he had the same smileeee, go fight the wall). Because they totallyy go shopping secretly all the time. Just, like, look at how unnatural Ri looks while shopping with Ji.. cuz all of his mannerisms are from when he goes shopping with Tabi :P

16. Look at him skipping away and being all giddy cuz Seunghyun hugged him on stage. Please wtaf why are they so in love.

17. This man. Looked into his husband's eyes. Then looked at his lips. Subconsciously pursed his own lips. Then looked into his bae bae's eyes again. And the entire time his eyes are full of the purest form of love and joy.

So um yeah. Thanks for coming to another one of my not-conspiracy-theory-related-just-plain-delulu Ted Talks.

[jaerontaemo]

240926 JAEHYUN Bubble Update

How have you been?

You must have been surprised by the sudden news, but I’ll be enlisting in November. I wanted to write a short message to share my feelings with Czennies.

I’ve been reflecting on the precious memories, relationships, and the depth of love I’ve experienced with you all, things I wouldn’t have felt if not for this career.

I’ve always gone at my own pace up until now, and I’m so thankful and love you for always believing in me and matching my pace as we moved forward together.

I may say I’ll be back soon, and to just wait a little, but I’m sure I’ll miss you.

I’ll make sure to come back healthy, so you all need to take care of yourselves, both physically and mentally.

I’ll live each day recalling the memories we’ve shared and looking forward to the journey we’ll have together in the future.

"We're unconditionally timeless."

Cr. Jaehyuncharts (twt)

[chaaistained]

Hi Chaai!!

I just realized something.

So yesterday, last night, I was getting ready for bed. I set the intention to wake up at the middle of the night. I went to bed, got comfortable to fall asleep. I simply said “Wake up at the middle of the night”. No hesitation. No questions asked. And I fell asleep.

And guess what? Yes, I wake up at the middle of the night. So what I’m saying is I could use this for shifting! If it was THAT simple to just set the intention to wake up in the middle of the night, I could use that to wake up in my dr!. I’m going to keep practice set my intention because I’ve been having the wrong idea about it but I know this is good process. Not only that but I’ve been having vivid dreams and dreams about people from my dr🫶🏻

And this is so off topic but I just wanted to say I LOVE how you write! Very detailed and creative. It inspires me to write more poetry and songs. Not only that but to script!🤍

- B💋

HIII !! dude LETS GET INTO SETTING INTENTION

IT IS SUCH A MISUNDERSTOOD METHOD BY A LOT OF SHIFTERS ???

even i overthink it sometimes — and i’ve LITERALLY succeeded in setting intention to shift/manifest ??!!??

but yeah no B? it is SO POWERFUL i’m so glad to hear that you just had trust and let go and understood the finality, inevitably being proven right and waking up just as you intended

it is a REALLY good process !! i started “small” by intending to see shifts in my cr, manifestations, the most recent intentional shift was to shift before i turned 21 and i DID — i shifted to my arrowverse dr (albeit i did not open my eyes but I WAS THERE I COULD FEEL AND EXPERIENCE MY SURROUNDINGS???)

anyway thank you sm for the update !!

and THANK YOU FOR LOVING MY WRITING

i honestly get a little emotional when i talk abt writing and creativity as a whole subject matter bcs i was MEANT to write, i was put on this earth to be a writer, i am nothing if im not coming up with a story or a piece of dialogue or a poetic paragraph of prose — i NEED writing to help keep me sane

it’s literally the only reason i wake up some days, it’s literally one of the few things that makes me feel alive

so thank you so very much for loving my writing and thank you More for being inspired by it????

i’m eternally grateful that MY writing is inspiring you to put your creativity out there, even if it’s only for you to see — trust me, it’s still worth it !!

and YES writing is so much fun when it’s for scripting?? idk what it is but there’s like, flavour there? for lack of a better descriptor hahahaha

anyway, if you ever post some of your writing i’d LOVE to see it !! (no pressure my love)

[rrezshifts]

for saia's ask game + your model! mauraders reality!! (sorry if it's a lot of questions, feel free to skip any you don't wanna answer...)

⊹ ⏰ MORNING ROUTINE — ✶ what’s the first thing you do when you wake up in your dr?

⊹ 🛍️ TREAT YOURSELF — ✶ what’s the coolest thing you own in your dr that you don’t have in your cr?

⊹ 🩷 FAMILY BONDS — ✶ who do you consider family in your dr? are they different from your cr family?

⊹ 💞 HEARTSTRINGS — ✶ who is the most important person in your dr?

⊹ 🦋 METAMORPHOSIS — ✶ how has your dr changed you as a person?

𝓪𝙣𝔰𝙬e𝙧𝙞n𝙜 𝙩h𝙞𝙨 a𝙨𝙠 𝙛o𝙧 𝙢y

ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ!ᴍᴀʀᴀᴜᴅᴇʀꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ

CONTEXT : i know this isn’t the model!marauders reality you asked for, but to be completely honest that reality hasn’t been thought about by me for MONTHS and at this point isn’t a reality i’m shifting to. i hope this reality is an okay replacement!!

⏰ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ MORNING ROUTINE : what's the first thing you do when you wake up in your dr? . . . USUALLY i’ll check my phone as soon as i wake up to keep myself awake. like i’m sitting up and just going straight on my phone and checking social media just to keep myself awake. if either james or sirius is awake in our shared dorm i’ll talk with them about either random shit or about the day we have coming up for each of us. after that, i’m just getting ready for the day ahead.

🛍️ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ TREAT YOURSELF : what's the coolest thing you own in your dr that you don't have in your cr? . . . MY WAND feels a little obvious to say but like… it’s a wand that lets me focus my magic. but like also i have a genuinely good closet, top surgery, and a healthy and muscular body. okay no but like actually some cool things i own are like oracle decks for each deity i work with, colognes that smell like my favorite places and also a cologne that smells like my amortentia (so basically sirius), and also a nintendo switch.

🩷 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ FAMILY BONDS : who do you consider family in your dr? are they different from your cr family? . . . MY MOM AND DAD. i’m an only child in this reality, to a loving mother and father. my mom is indigenous mexican and a pureblood witch, and my father is french and a pureblood wizard. i grew up in both america and france, but went to wizarding school in america for the first couple years before moving to britain and went to hogwarts when a business opportunity arose for my father. i won’t get into my cr family on here but know i didn’t script in the same trauma i have for this reality.

💞 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ HEARTSTRINGS : who is the most important person in your dr? . . . SIRIUS BLACK. this fact faltered a bit after we dated for a bit then he broke up with me. since i was hurt by him majorly, “the most important” person to me shifted from sirius to james then peter then remus then back around to james again. but deep down i always cared about sirius so much, at an unhealthy level, some would say. sirius was just someone i had a very strong rapport with. and compared to the other marauders, sirius and i have much more common ground…in a sense,, i don’t know if that makes sense.

🦋 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ METAMORPHOSIS : how has your dr changed you as a person? . . . I FEEL i can’t answer this one properly to be completely honest so i will be skipping it, sorry babes! thank you so much for the hefty ask though!! it was so much fun! 💕

© rrezshifts last updated. 03/29/2025

[encyclopediacr]

Survey summary: Page Recommendations

As our final summary of the survey results, here are some recommendations for new pages we wanted to talk through. Once again, you will notice that the theme is "we are a small group, and Critical Role's programming and scope has vastly expanded in the past year or so." If you are passionate about something, please do not hesitate to jump in and start editing.

Character stat pages: we just started these! Starting with Bells Hells' level up to 12, the first level-up after CR Stats stopped updating, we started subpages to track the changes with each level-up (see Fearne's as an example), though level 13 updates are still in progress. These are also in use for the Rivals from Call of the Netherdeep (see Ayo's here). We will be doing this for further Bells Hells updates and hypothetical future campaigns. The main thing keeping us from going back and making level updates for Campaigns 1 and 2 or earlier Bells Hells levels is the time commitment, especially since this information is already available on CR Stats. Should you wish to help fill this in, we would love to have you. We do have a page for Sending specifically, but not for all spells. CritRoleStats will have this information through January 2024, and the Omen Archive has it for Campaign 3. We cannot commit to the same level of statistical detail as CRStats did without dedicated editors focusing on that. If this information is important to you, consider reaching out to the Omen Archive or volunteering to update it!

Links to Talks transcripts: Unfortunately, these are auto-generated for the most part, so we decided against hosting them as they are extremely inaccurate. If someone is interested in cleaning those transcripts up, please feel free to contact us, as we'd be happy to host them.

Details on Candela Obscura, EXU & TLOVM: this all seems to be asking for series-level information. We'd love to know more about what you specifically would like to see, as we do cover these in depth!

Miscellaneous: Music playlists, Larkin Watch, Air Ashari, the Clay/Dust/Stone story - these are all added to our list of things to make. Larkin Watch will likely be a glossary entry (Larkin does redirect to Raishan!) but the others are all great ideas!

One-shots and their characters: this is a known gap. Thank you to all who participated in our push to fill in some of these this past winter break. With the exception of the Nord VPN one-shot, which aired while most regular editors were ill or unavailable; and Daggerheart, for which we have a summary but have not yet had the time to fill in all character information, we have kept up with new one shots since making the wiki fork. Older one-shots were often deprioritized on Fandom and while we have made a number of updates, it is a large backlog. Again, the main issue is time as we prioritize keeping up with current material, but we would love to revisit these one shots. If you're interested, please do not hesitate to jump in - even a single one-shot episode summary is a huge help.

Thumbnails: you can find them on their category page! For example: https://criticalrole.miraheze.org/wiki/Category:Campaign_3_episode_thumbnails

Nine Eyes of Lucien: This is also a known gap, and again comes down to the fact that no one who has read the book has had the time, as most are the core group of editors keeping current information up to date and it's been pretty nonstop since early 2023. We would love to have a volunteer to work on this, or alternately, people who could take over other significant ongoing updates for a few weeks so someone who normally works on that could focus on the Lucien novel. Perhaps this will be our next winter break project.

[thenotsoholyspirit]

✨The Devil’s in the Details✨

(Pt 3/?)

(Matt Murdock x Reader)

AU: Well here's the third chapter, I hope you're liking it so far. I'll try to work on my other story these days so if I don't make an update on this one its just that I may be a bit overwhelmed by Uni Thanks ❤️❤️

(Part two in here

Summary: Trying to makes end meet as a young woman has never been easy, even less living in the turbulent city that is New York. When (y/n) will have to make an impossible choice, she'll have to decide between the ones she cares the most. It's never safe to fall in love, especially with that mysterious lawyer at the bar she's been working at and the secret she guards underneath.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/—/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

I have always hated the smell of Hospitals.

As I enter the long term aisle, the scent of bleach and hand sanitizer already overwhelms my senses. My head is already starting to turn.

Saturdays were my only free day of the week, and visiting my mother in the morning has been my routine for quite a while now.

I finally reach her room as I softly knock at her door frame.

“Is Miss Emmerston here ?”

I smile at her as she’s already awake eating her breakfast. I was happy to see her being able to eat solid food again, even if I knew how tasteless the meals here usually were.

“Honey.” She softly smiles back at me, “You came in early today” 

My mother’s voice has always been so sweet. 

Looking at her, I understand how people so often say I’m her carbon cop, the only difference being the color of my skin that I surely inherited from my father. 

“How are you feeling this morning mom ?”

“Not bad… not bad… Doctors have said my last treatment has been giving good results ”

I’ll never know what triggered it all, but I still have the vivid image of my mother laying on the ground as I had to call the emergency number. A late diagnosis of HF they told me, lucky she even made out at this stage. 

Apparently it was a family issue as they also did some exams on me and discovered I did need a pacemaker. I had to decline it as I couldn’t afford it. 

I’ve been ok for now I'll manage  

Of course the total bill didn’t come in cheap, especially as my mother had to often prolong her stays at the hospital.

“I have a good feeling this time” 

I force myself to smile at her. 

I didn't want to worry her either about my current situation and she seemed to be genuinely happy. 

She suddenly gives me a curious look, a little smirk being visible on her lips.

“What about you honey… any special news ?” She murmured, “Any boyfriend out there ?”

I slightly blush as she asks me so, unwillingly thinking about Matt.

“Mom…y know I ain't got time for that stuff”

My mother gives me a sad smile shaking her head 

“You’re so young and pretty, you also need to enjoy life y'know honey”

I look out the window, thinking about my late night conversation with Fisk. He hasn’t reached for me yet.

“I will… I will… for now I'm here for you”

I take her hand as I hold it with a strong grip, giving her a kiss on her forehead.

I'll get you through this mom. No matter what it may cost me

“Anyways” , I lighten my tone a bit as I get some needles and wool from my bag, “It’s time we continue to knit that scarf.. shall we ?“

……….

She hasn’t called in yet.

Maybe it was a bit rushed, but it's been some days and he hasn’t heard anything from the waitress at Josie’s . Matt has started to question if his idea of leaving a contact card was the correct one.

“Matt,  you stop pacing around the room please ?” Foggy murmurs slightly annoyed “I’m trying to read up some papers here”

Matt shakes his head, he wouldn’t admit he was hoping for her call

“Sorry for that Foggs”, he sits down “I’m just trying to come out with a good opening statement for this case” 

“Bullshit, you’re thinking about that girl aren’t you “

Matt sighs, he wasn’t in the mood to have that conversation. Foggy smiles, taking it as an affirmation of his suspicions.

“You could’ve actually given her your number rather than your lawyer credentials” Foggy couldn’t hide is smirk, “She may have thought you were in search of a client, not a date”

Matt chuckles softly as he can’t help but to be humored by Foggy's remark.

“What about both ?” Matt interjects “I can’t explain it, Foggs.. there’s something about her..”

“So you’re attracted to her?”

“No.. o well yes… o well I meant.. I couldn’t exactly read her…it was intriguing”

Foggy didn’t seem to be fully following.

“She was clearly attracted to you too mate.. especially with you using that charm”

Matt shakes his head, that wasn’t the point he was trying to get across. It was mostly obvious (y/n) was attracted to him, her heartbeats increasing and the temperature of her skin getting hotter too. Yet, she didn’t even dare to take a risk at him that night. Not one word, not even a playful tone, it’s like she is holding herself back. Matt could also sense her being overstimulated by the environment yet did not falter to smile once.

“I’m not sure how to explain it…”

He thinks back at the conversation he couldn’t help but to ear drop, as he learned she was the one taking care of her mother.

“I just feel she may also need our help”. 

Foggy stands up as he lets out a chuckle, patting Matt's shoulder.

“I think you’re just trying to justify yourself in here “, as he’s about to leave the room he gives Matt a look “Just try to drop the virtuous vigilante stuff for once and have some fun all right ?” 

Matt resigns as he simply nods

“I will Foggs I will… see ya tomorrow”

As Matt is now alone in his office, he wonders if he should be the one to call back.

The memory of her sweet perfume, soft voice and nervous chuckles returns to his mind again.

All night he could sense her going back and forth serving clients, as he had hoped he could have talked to her more.

Guess that’ll stay a mystery 

Suddenly the phone rings, and Matt is surprised someone had called in so late

“Nelson and Murdock ?”

“Matt is that you.. I don’t know if you remember but you gave me that card… at Josie’s ?”

It was her voice. He freezes for a second until he continues with a nonchalant tone.

“(y/n) glad to hear you.. listen it's late now but we could continue this conversation tomorrow afternoon if you’re free” 

The voice on the other side of the line hesitates slightly but continues.

“I’ll be working… but I could do a cup of coffee during my lunch break “

“Any place in mind or-

“What about Owls Cafe, its not to far from my  job”

Matt liked her decisiveness

“Works for me… then meet ya there at 12 all right ?”

 “All right… goodnight Matt”

“Goodnight”

He hangs as a little smirk appears on his face.

This girl had piqued his curiosity indeed. 

[miiashiifts]

𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 + 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 ♱

i promised i’d update you guys on my manifestations from last week so here is the update!! (+ i’m going to start doing weekly updates on sundays - even though it’s monday today - so i can rant about my cr life to someone other than my diary…)

ok so first, my laptop didn’t get fixed unfortunately BUT i did end up being able to buy a new one thankfully (which i did nawt expect to happen…did you guys know the cheapest laptops at argos are like £400??? tf 😭) so although it wasn’t exactly what i manifested i’m still incredibly happy!!! in a way this new laptop is easier since it runs faster so everything worked out in the end <3

next is something very exciting, i manifested for my insomnia to be gone. i feel much less stress to sleep early and wake up early these days, and it’s been much easier to wake up early in the morning compared to 2 weeks ago - which if you know me you know that’s amazing because getting out of bed is really difficult for me when my depression worsens, so being able to get out of bed at around 8-9am is great for me and i’ve been getting outside in the sun which has been lovely 🩷

i’m still looking out for results for the others so next week i’ll let you all know if anything drastic happenssss

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ ✦ .

k now time for the weekly update!! like i said, this week i’ve been getting out of bed and trying to get outside because being homeschooled & very anxious, i rarely leave the house. on thursday i went on a walk to my local co-op and spent like 15 minutes trying to decide what snacks to get lmaoaoao. i think i need to start walking to places more often because when i go to college in september i’m probably gonna end up having to walk a long way to the bus stop every morning which sucks but it’s whatever!!!

talking about college….me and my mum were discussing what i’m gonna do about college if i fail my gcse’s in may (which is looking very likely considering i’ve been out of education for the past year and 2 months 🌝) and i’m honestly not sure what to do anymore?? my ideal plan would be to go to college and do theatrical makeup, so like special effects makeup and makeup for theatre productions since the town i’m going to college in is very famous for its theatres and i’ve always loved makeup art, but i think if i do have to retake my maths & english exams i’ll have to pick something else for the foundation year because the course i wanna do doesn’t offer retakes or something??? idk my mum tried to explain it to me but i didn’t get it, if i do have to choose another course i’ll probably end up doing media or film (if my college offers it, i haven’t checked yet) because my ultimate dream would be to work in the film industry as a film director - but i’m definitely not equipped for that in this reality (hence why i have a director dr 🙂‍↕️) but i guess i’ll get to that in september or on results day. i’m gonna try real hard to pass my exams since i’m only taking maths, english and religious education, if the course i want to do didn’t need a 3rd pass i’d only take the first 2 but since i grew up catholic i know a lot about religion 😫

thankfully my life is peaceful at the moment besides from my rapidly declining mental health, maybe these weekly updates will be more exciting in the future but i can’t promise anything right now lololol !!! thank you for reading & more shifting posts coming soon i swear i’m in a rut at the moment 😭😭

[acrsstheunivrs]

Reality Shifting— Weekend Update ｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ

𖦹₊⊹ Hey squid gang, I want to start doing a little recap of my weeks like a weekend update and tell you guys about my shifting journey. I’ll probably start posting them on Saturday’s but for now this is what we are gonna do.

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ MY SHIFT!!!

𖦹₊⊹ First off.. I SHIFTED!! A couple of nights ago I had sleep paralysis (my first time in a WHILE). I always told myself the next time I had sleep paralysis, I would use it to shift and that’s what I did! I basically said “I am in my squid game dr, I am pure consciousness” and I was SUCKED out of my body and saw white everywhere it was really bright.

𖦹₊⊹ Next thing I knew is I was in my CR bedroom still. I turned over and tried to go back to sleep. I got sleep paralysis AGAIN and when I opened my eyes someone walked into my room and looked around for a second (i’m also not the kind of person to hallucinate during sleep paralysis, I’ve been having sleep paralysis since I was 13 and I’ve NEVER hallucinated anything)

𖦹₊⊹ They came into my room and looked around a bit. I didn’t get a good look at their face but their outline BROOO i SWEARRR IT WAS DAE-HO

𖦹₊⊹ also to prove that I wasn’t just crazy I asked everyone in my house if they had come into my room and my parents and my brother all said they were fast asleep

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ MY DREAM!!!

𖦹₊⊹ The next night I went to shift again. I started picture my apartment a lot and all the things I was gonna do when I woke up. I planned it out that Dae would be at work, I would wake up, take a shower, clean up the apt, feed the cats, go out to eat with Fiona and Nam-gyu, and wait for Dae-ho to come home from work

𖦹₊⊹ Once I fell asleep I had this VIVID dream of that exact day! I woke up, cleaned my apt (The layout was EXACTLY how I planned/remembered), Fiona came over and I talked to her, and then Dae-ho came home from work and I hugged him. It was so vivid!!

𖦹₊⊹ I’ve shifted every night since then, small things here and there but every. night. I’ve shifted. I am gonna shift tonight so stay tuned. It’s almost a full moon so I’m harnessing that !!

thank you for listening to the update >v<

[alovesreading]

hello, i hope you’re doing as well as we all can be. i just wanted to let you know that constant repeat literally changed my life. around a year and half (?) ago i was getting really depressed, anxious, and generally unhappy with…pretty much everything that wasn’t related to alex turner in some way. i have autism and his work (+ miles’s) is my special interest, so i know i’ll reliably be able to cheer myself up just a little if i’m doing anything involving them. one night at 4am, i was trying to find literally anything to keep me occupied so i wouldn’t spiral again. i somehow managed to come across cr. i’m not kidding when i say i read everything that was up (something around 12-14 chapters iirc?) before 6am. it became the reason i woke up every day, i just had to find out what ella and alex were up to and if they’d ever figure out how chronically in love they were. i won tickets to one of the am concerts in my area shortly after that and i reread my favorite chapters to celebrate. i watched all your life updates and chapter updates and i’ve been keeping tabs on you since. i gained more reasons to wake up (ie getting engaged) but i always come back to cr. 💚💚 much love to you.

(ps, sorry for any typos or silly formatting, it’s currently 4am for me. i just wanted to send good things your way with the way things have been)

Anon, this is probably the most special ask I have ever gotten. Nearly brought me to tears.

Constant Repeat was born out of a fight against the claws of depression while stuck working on the road for almost a year. Being in the truck month after month was draining, and the only thing keeping me sane was plotting silly fics on my laptop.

One of those fics ended up being Constant Repeat. I wrote so damn much in such little time, and I thought it would be so stupid to post it but with some encouragement, I gave in.

Never in a million years did I think any of my little made up stories would make an impact on anyone, at least not beyond entertaining people for a bit.

So reading this has just made my heart grow about three sizes in my chest. I’m so proud of you anon, for how far you’ve come and all that you’ve accomplished so far. I’m sending you a billion hugs and all the love in the world. And a massive congrats to you on your engagement!!!! 🥹🥹🥹

Thank you for your support, for being here, and coming back despite the lack of new content. I hope with all my heart to be able to put out something new for Ella and Alex’s story very soon.

Know that when next chapter comes, it’ll be dedicated to you.

Again, thank you for this. Wishing I could hug you through the screen, but I hope you feel the ghost hug while reading this 🤍🤍🤍

[farizrz]

Desert Rose | Romance Club

Ask me anything with Amy G.

Desert Rose | Romance Club · 29 Dec at 7:05 am

Source: VK

(translate by chrome)

❓ What was Zane’s childhood like and his relationship with his parents? And did the death of his father influence him and become the reason for his reckless youth?

❗Zane loves his family very much. The relationship between his mom and dad was an example of true love for him. Speaking of his father, Zayn adored him and he will always be proud of his father. But you will learn more in the future :)

❓ Back at the end of the first season, Yasmine mentions that she loves Mr. Darcy, and since then I've been wondering which of the RP characters do you think is most like Mr. Darcy? And in the same spirit of loving literature, what other books did Yasmin love as a child?

❗ Hmm, on the way with Adil, Yasmin thinks that she has found her version of Darcy - a cold-blooded Bedouin. But I think Zayn can also be like Mr. Darcy to her. She likes Notre Dame, Oliver Twist, The Thorn Birds, The Picture of Dorian Gray, Little Women.

❓ 1. What pranks did Adil, Rajab and Madi do when they were growing up? And did they immediately agree to the rebel’s plan with Adil? 2. Yasmine is one of my favorite main characters and I love that we see her growth throughout the story! What inspired you to create a GG like her? And who does she look more like, her father or her mother? 3. Do you have any plans/ideas for your next story after completing the RP?

❗ 1. Along Adil's path you will learn more, but they loved to joke with Ali) 2. I talked a lot with my Muslim friends, read discussions. I tried to create a kind of lonely girl who lives in her dreams and tries to build her path, her life. 3. Yes 😉

❓ 1. Whenever Yasmin introduces Adil, she introduces him bare-chested 😅 (most of the time)... is this intentional? Even in the heartbreaking cutscene of the last update 🙈 2. The musical animation in the season finale is another feature of the RP ...how did you come up with this idea...? It's like ending the season with a bang. 3. I know this will be a spoiler 😅🤣... but can you tell me if Mr. Bat will confess his love one day?

❗ 1. Haha, I knew that the players miss Adil so much, so I wanted to give them a gift 😁 why was he naked in the dream? This is a spoiler) 2. My technical designer and I decided to do this - we think it's sort of the final act of every season finale. 3. He will do it 😁😈 or I will hit him.

❓Have you ever encountered writer's block, and if so, how do you deal with it?

❗ Yes, of course. I try to calm down by writing something funny or stupid just to relax, watching cartoons or something emotional and inspiring. For example, musicals. Speaking about my work: I always remember that I have to make people happy and this inspires me very much) Good luck and believe in yourself! ❤️

❓ 1. How does Jack feel about Adil? I'm guessing he feels pain over his "death", but were they close to each other as children? 2. When did Cindy decide to become a model? Did someone notice her or maybe she was inspired by a famous model? 3. If you could include one of your characters in another CR story, who would you choose and what story do you think they would fit well in? 4. I love that you also write beautiful songs, you are so talented. Can you tell us if you plan to write more songs for Garden of Eden or other stories?

❗ 1. Jack loves Adil, Adil has always been his role model, but on the other hand Jack thought that their father loved Adil more and Jack hated it. Jack is the only one (not counting Yasmin on Adil's path) who knows the real Adil, his soft side. 2. Her mother wanted her to become a model. Cindy also thought that the only talent she had was her face and body :( She needed to make money, so she decided to become a model. 3. Moonborn perhaps? I want to see Zane and Victor fight over coffee and tea 😁 4. Thanks, who knows 😼

❓ 1. If they had a choice, what dream place would every LL in RP want to visit? 2. Can you give us some BTS facts (Behind The Scenes)? How do you come up with lyrics? What is the brainstorming process?

❗ 1. Zane - New Zealand; Mustafa - Lisbon, Cindy - New York, Adil - Paris, Jack - Iceland, Said - Prague, Jaffar just dreams of being able to travel) 2. Well, I'm trying to imagine what I want to say in my song, how it will influence the ending season, after that I start writing and finally singing, but honestly my voice is a terrible version of a Disney princess, so I... I'm glad Alisha sang my songs 😁 Thank you ❤️

❓ 1. Was Mustafa inspired by someone you know in real life, or maybe a fictional character you admire? 2. Are there any traits in Yasmin that you would like to have? 3. When will we see Rebel the cat again? I miss him.

❗ 1. No, but I just wanted to create a kind person, a person who will destroy the stereotypes of the spoiled Arab guy that GG has to be with. I wanted to create a good brother who takes care of his sister because I know some girls don't have a good relationship with their brothers :( 2. Maybe her inner warmth? I'm more cold-blooded, less sociable, like to plan everything. She is more spontaneous and naive. Sometimes I wish I had these qualities. 3. You will know 😼 meow 😈

❓ 1. My first question is related to the Garden of Eden: you wrote the lyrics to Starfall, it’s an amazing song. How did this collaboration begin? 2. I was wondering if you have time to play any other KR stories in your free time? If so, which one holds a special place in your heart?

❗ 1. Nastya, the author of ES, is one of my friends, so I am always ready to help her, working with her is always fun and inspiring. I love Luna's story, we wanted to create a song that showed her pain, her struggle with her own triggers and nightmares. That’s why I wrote: “The window is open - I see the sky.” Sometimes we are so worried, so wounded, that we can’t even see the sky, even if dozens of windows are open. We don’t see the world, pain blinds us, but it’s important not to give up. 2. Yes, but now I don't have enough time :( I liked ES, Psi, KPS - the new stories I played - Moonborn, LI, Sails in the Mist and Arcanum are my favorites too! But honestly, I think that all the stories are good ❤️

❓Which character in RP was the most difficult to write? Zane? Buahaha

❗ Poor Zane! Sometimes it's the simplest! Sometimes everyone is very bad and doesn’t want to communicate with my muse 😁

❓ Since this is a topic I'm passionate about, what inspired you to write a story about rebellion and speaking truth to power?

❗ I was inspired by the stories of the Bedouins, culture, political past of Morocco, Arabic fairy tales. I also love Les Miserables (“Les Miserables”), and I even had the idea of ​​writing a novella based on this book.

❓ 1. What genres of books and films does Zane like? Are there any specific names? 2. Why did Zayn choose fashion as a career? 3. If you had to play as Yasmin, which path would you choose? Disobedience or dreaminess and Child of the city or flower of the desert? 4. What do you find most difficult and easiest when writing a RP?

❗ 1. He just loves good books) good from his point of view, of course) For example, novels for women are not his strong point. He loves Machiavelli, The Scarlet Letter, The Financier, The Godfather) 2. You will find out ;) 3. I play every path during tests. 4. Sometimes I hate writing scenes like “he came... she looked...” - just descriptions. I really love writing scenes with LL. And I love some of the story scenes because I know that every scene has its own meaning;) I hope when the story ends, you will see the whole thing) And of course sometimes it is difficult to write about culture, because, well, you know, there are many trigger moments, especially if we are talking about religion. I'm trying to figure everything out because I don't want to hurt anyone.

❓ 1. Which path (dreamy/rebellious) do you think best suits each LL personality? 2. Can you tell us some interesting fact about Jack? 3. Which LL would you like to have an affair with? 4. What inspired you to write this story?

❗ 1. I think that every path can be interesting for every LL. 2. He tried to act like a brother and called Adil's classmate (he imitated his voice), but unfortunately his mission failed 😁 3. I want to have a harem. 4. Morocco's political past, 2000s, Arabic tales, Bedouin stories.

❓ My question: could you tell me more about Jaffar? For example, what are his hobbies or favorite things to do? Does he have any other family members besides the father he mentioned? What did he do before he came to work for Yasmin's father?

❗ He loves to run, watch nature, loves Moroccan culture and cuisine. Yes, there is) you will learn more through the branch with him) and you will learn more about his past.

❓ 1. Can you share interesting facts about Mustafa? 2. Will it be possible to adopt the Rebel cat?

❗ 1. Ha, Mustafa was forced to play with dolls with his sisters :))) he hated it, but he is a good caring brother 😁 2. Who knows 😉

❓ 1. Which paths are best to choose with each character? Or just choose what we want?2. Is it possible to choose one path or balance stats? 3. What are Adil and Yasmin’s favorite books??

❗ 1. You can choose whatever you want) There will be endings for balance and the same for each stat. 2. Adil: Hemingway, Night in Lisbon, American Tragedy, Red and Black, Germinal. Yasmin: Notre Dame, Pride and Prejudice, Little Women, The Thorn Birds.

❓ 1. Will Yasmin's father accept Adil as his son-in-law? 2. Can we expect a wedding with Adil at the end? 3. Why didn’t Adil tell the truth to Yasmin or Jack earlier, after his memory returned?

❗ 1. You will find out 😼 2. 😉 3. Because he is a closed person, it is difficult for him to tell everything that is on his soul, he needs time to realize. He wanted to tell Yasmin, but did not find the right moment. If we talk about Jack: he thought he was dead, realized that he was alive when he found medical documents and saw his brother's handwriting.

❓ If you could give all LLs or any other character a superpower, what would you give them and why? 🦸🦹‍♀️😁

❗ Hmm) I wish everyone to become wizards, like in my beloved Harry Potter. 😈 for example, Adil would talk to snakes 😈

❓ 1. Said’s favorite food, colors, hobbies? 2. What attracted him to Yasmin or what attracted her to him? Maybe what is his love language?

❗1. Said loves nature, loves to walk and look around, loves animals, especially cats and parrots) 2. Said loves kindness, hates indifference, that's why he liked Yasmin - she can be rude or something like that, but on the other hand, with him she tries to be kind and helpful. Speaking of her, she was captivated by his personality. He is always there to help her.

❓ 1. What do you think could have happened if the romantic paths had not been closed and the player dated Jack and Adil at the same time? How might they both react to this? 2. What is the reason for the distance between Yasmin and her father? He seems to love her no matter what, but there is still an invisible wall between them. 3. What is your favorite character trait about Yasmin? 4. Can balancing the Desert Flower and Child of the City stats lead to a happy ending?

❗ 1. I think they were really hurt. Adil could not start an affair with the girl his brother loves. But if you dated Adil, but decided to break up with him, and you have a very close relationship with Zayn, then... an interesting path awaits you 😁 2. You will find out. 3. Her inner warmth and the fact that she is not afraid to seem naive) 4. Of course, don’t worry.

❓ 1. Can we expect more romantic content with Sayid in season 3? Will he then have a full-fledged path or will it be more of an affair on the side? 2. Will we find out who Zuleika’s child is in the story? 3. Is something going on with Rajab and Amira??

❗ 1. Yes) and with him you will have a final. 2. Her baby is just her baby, but maybe if I have enough space we can help her meet her son. 3. Oh, they are so passionate together 🔥

❓ 1. What research did you have to do regarding Morocco, Brazil and the medical history of the virus? 2. Can you tell us a little more about Sefer's political parties (views, foundations, etc.) 3. This is related to the last question. What does Adil's rebellion mean to ordinary people in Morocco, and was his character inspired by any real-life Moroccan events?

❗ 1. I read a lot about the history of Morocco, talked with friends from Morocco, watched films, etc. I also read about Brazil and tried to show it in different ways. But because of the plot and some things that will work later, I had to change something. For example, the brothers have non-Brazilian names and surnames, but... this was necessary for something that you will learn about later) 2. Conservative. There were different parties - liberal, democratic, but now everything has simply collapsed. They also behave badly with the Bedouins :( 3. He was inspired by the Bedouins and their stories. Ordinary people love the Rebel, they believe in him. And the Bedouins adore him. He helps a lot. And he will help more.

❓ 1. What is Cindy's favorite color? 2. Can you tell me one of Cindy's happy childhood memories? 3. Is there any place/country in the world that Cindy would like to visit with Yasmin?

❗ 1. Dark blue, fuchsia, yellow, orange. 2. Cindy loved to dance and was so happy when her mother bought her a doll - not a Barbie (she was too expensive), but a very beautiful ballerina. It was the best Christmas present. Cindy was truly happy. 3. I think she would like to visit New York!)

❓ 1. What do you enjoy most about writing scenes/lines for Zayn? Is it as fun as it seems to get inside his head? 2. What sparked Zane's passion/skill for tango when it is so contrary to his harsh personality? Is there a chance he'll try to teach Yasmin? 👀 3. If you could take home one of LL's gifts for Yasmin (like Adil's elephant pendant, Zayn's bracelet/necklace, Cindy's necklace, Mustafa's stuffed watermelon, etc. - I forgot so much 😭), what would you choosed?

❗ 1. I like writing Zayn's journey - I like his emotions, I like how he tries to figure everything out, to control his life, but she... this wild creature ruins everything 😁 soon you will see my favorite scenes with Zayn. I hope you will enjoy. Honestly, sometimes I laugh. For example, when I wrote the scene of Yasmin dancing, I laughed - I imagined Zayn hiding behind a palm tree 😁 2. He will tell us about tango) will he dance with her - who knows, maybe 😼😉 3. I will choose everything and, maybe Yasmin's camel toy. 😁

❓ Will we meet our mother-in-law in Italy? How and when did Gurub fall in love with Adil? Does helping her have plot significance?

❗ You’ll find out 😉 You’ll find out :) Well, yes, it’s better to help her :)

❓ I loved the interaction between Madi and Jaffar (despite the circumstances) - it was so fun to imagine them pitted against each other, trying to achieve the same goal.

❗ I also enjoyed writing their scenes 😁 Madi is one of my favorites)

❓ If you played, who would be your favorite?

❗ I think I would have a harem, but I'm married 😁

❓ Can Karo still become LL?

❗ Caroline has her own storyline) You will find out ;)

❓ Will we learn more about the past/relationship between Zayn and his tango partner? 👿

❗ Ha, yes, it will be so)

We thank Larisa M. for her help with the translation.

[justavulcan]

COMING SOON: AIRMARK'S GUIDE TO PLANAR VEGETABLES

I would like to dedicate this Flora to my neighbors here in Sigil, who tolerate my greenhouse with mostly good humor; to my editor Sleeps-Never-Twice, who has sent rescue parties after me three times now since I started writing this volume; and to my partner Wren, who has brought me all manner of stimulant in my pursuit of finishing this volume before our vacation to Mt. Celestia. I thank you all for your love and support; or, in the case of my neighbors, your tolerance and acceptance of my garnish.

What follows is a series of selections from my Guide to Planar Vegetables, for your consideration and potential use. Traveling throughout the Planes, it is clear to most that all manner of beast, spiritual being, and person might help, hinder, or assault the weary traveler; this, then, is my attempt to make readers everywhere aware of the danger the local flora can pose, or to draw the attention of the curious to the more strange and wonderful of the Planescape's plant life. I hope the following entries serve well as warnings and appetizers both, and that your own gardening adventures proceed safely and with an eye towards finding beauty everywhere- even in the Lower Planes.

Eustace Airmark

Date varies by local Calendar

I will be posting one non-animate plant and one animate plant (plant monster) every week, in pairs by plane. This will also serve as the index post for the project, and will be updated as I have new entries. As always, if you find one of my creatures tempting to use, my price is only to tell me: how did it work out? The posts will begin on September 4th. Thanks again to my players, who in moments searching bookshelves for uncommon topics, force me to make things up on the fly that prove fertile ground for my overactive imagination. Airmark's Guide to Planar Vegetables would not exist without them.

Astral: Lotus Anchorite (CR 20); Astral Mangrove

Ethereal: Tombstone Lily (CR 16); Ethereal Marigold

Feywild: Alraune (CR 11); Blue Iris Flowerfly

Shadowfell: Fugue Weed (CR 10); Detainer Cactus

Elemental Plane of Air: Urchin Bush (CR 12); Cloudfruit Tree

Elemental Plane of Earth: Wandering Garden (CR 13); Jeweler's Delight

Elemental Plane of Fire: Sparkflower Seed Swarm (CR 4); Ignan Ashpetal

Elemental Plane of Water: Kelp Dragon (CR 14); Tidemat

Elemental Plane of Ice: False Chilblain (CR 12); Chilblain Ivy

Elemental Plane of Mud: Oblivion Yam (CR 5); Sludgy Sundew

Elemental Plane of Magma: Flameforger Tree (CR 11); Caldera Cactus

Elemental Plane of Ash: Smokecatcher (CR 9); Smogwood Tree

Limbo: Rainbow Bamboo (CR 15); Peacock Shrub

Pandemonium: Pandemonian Tumbleweed (CR 9); Mindmute Moss

Abyss: Ichordeep Emissary (CR 13); Shatterstone

Carceri: Carcerian Snapdragon (CR 8); Cathryan Coward-Weed

Hades: Gray Lily of the Waste (CR 17); Eurydicean Willow

Gehenna: Gehennan Grafting Tree (CR 19); Spitebriar

Baator: Minauran Creeper Lily (CR 6); Garrison Vine

Acheron: War-Drum Tree (CR 18); Rustbloom

Mechanus: Copper Sheet-Leaf Bush (CR 3); Meter Weed

Arcadia: Arcadian Lightning Tree (CR 6); Tuning Tree

Mt. Celestia: Springbush (CR 2); Provider Oak

Bytopia: Shurrock Mercywood (CR 6); Dothion Mercywood

Elysium: Pollen Cat (CR 5); Eronian Lotus

Beastlands: Krigalan Praying Orchid (CR 13); Beastborne Fern

Arborea: Whitesand Sentinel (CR 8); Heartshare Rose

Ysgard: Wanderpine Cone (CR 1/8); Wanderpine Tree

[maxhpart]

Blogiversary the Fifth

Hiya, folks! It’s that time again where I reflect on the past year’s ups and downs and oddities.

For my art, 2023 ended up having a heavier emphasis on fashion, dreams, and expressionism, which was fun. This year’s notable art moments included:

designing a couple more OCs for D&D and updating an old one

the sales of a few more charms

my Art Fight 16-character mass attack (plus a small last-minute one), and receiving a precious revenge of Rill

a big-for-me hit with my Barbie/Matrix crossover piece, crossing 1k notes for only the 4th time ever on this blog

overall playing around with style a bit, especially when making more of my smaller, looser art like feelsposts and dream outfits, the latter of which I did in a bigger way for Fashiontober

participating in the 900 koroks project and more AGE projects, which led to...

...finally making it into the CR fanart gallery for the first time!!!! And then TWO MORE TIMES after that!!

I feel like I scrapped a lot more things this year—I have plenty of unfinished WIPs sitting around, for one reason or another. And oddly enough, zines weren’t really a thing for me this year (until this month), but AGE scratched the “big group project” itches nicely :) And I’ve literally been hoping to get into the CR fan art gallery since I started this art blog—back when the gallery was still a reel in the streams!—so to gain that honor thrice in one year is a dream come true in triplicate. (Looking back at last year’s blogiversary post, I see where I had specifically wished for realized dreams for us all this year. How fitting! I hope some of yours materialized, too.)

I don't quite know where I want to go from here, but I think I’d like to tackle some more art style and anatomy studies. I’ve also got an art series/merch idea from last year that I never made and would still like to bring to life, so perhaps I’ll take time for it soonish. In any case, I’ve got a couple commissions I’m working on now, and we’ll see where next year takes me!

Thank you to my 138 followers, the lurkers (hi, you!), and all the others who believe in me. Let’s use 2024 for a fresh start and try some new things!

Cheers, and stay hearty! 💪💚