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chaethewriter · 1 year

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You're dead to me [11]

Dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

A/N: at last, I'm back. It's been a while since I looked back at an "x reader" this satisfied. I'm still trying my best getting back into writing frequently, so I'm still looking and stuff. Either way, enjoy and tell me when you think. <3

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Drip. Tap. Crack.

A killing silence filled the room. Your siblings had left the space, as well as Norm, leaving you alone in the (dis)comfort of your father's presence. His breath was heavy as he lied there, on the operating table. Elbows resting behind him, keeping his body up. You sat next to him in one of those uncomfortable folding chairs. The ones you sat on during birthday parties, when it was too crowdy and the usual seats were occupied. You didn't know what you thought when you has begged Neteyam to bring you here, no plan on mind other than knowing your father was fine.

Drip. Tap. Crack.

The silence was deafening.

Killing you inside. Slowly.

"I didn't know what I would have done if you..." his voice was hoarse as he spoke. Which was understandable, coming from someone risen from the death. You scoff under your breathe, shaking your head in the progress as you knew the end of his sentence.

"You... you were the one that.. you..", you had a hard time forming that sentence, so you just settled on the most obvious one, hoping that the conversation could from out of it.

"why did you do it?"

A stupid question in Jake's eyes. What did you mean why? Why he protected you? Wasn't it obvious why he did so?

"I'm your father."

You scoffed again. One that held more grudge into the tone, "You're also their father."

And the conversation you hoped to start, had started. A conversation that was inevitable. A conversation that was needed in order to maintain a healthy relationship among a family. A conversation only you could start and hope to end well.

He didn't answer your comment, keeing his mouth sealed and watching you from the operation table, a side eye. Not a judging expression, but one that held shame. As if deep down he knew what you meant.

"You have been treating your children so.. horribly. The pressure on Neteyam, the punishments for Lo'ak, no attention flashed to Tuk and Kiri is basically a ghost. And then I come along, after not seeing me for two decades and you treat me like your only daughter? Do you know how that makes them feel? How that makes ME feel?"

You gasp for air as the words leave your lips in one sentence. During this, you watch your father's expression. His gaze was now on his lap. Ashamed of himself. Tommy's words already made him realize how he had been acting, but hearing them from a living person, hearing them from you, was so much different. So much more realistic than talking to a dead person in his head.

"You threw your kids even more to the side when I entered the picture. It made me feel so cruel, as if I stole their father away. Since I had missed that father figure as much as they do. The only person that had a father figure was Tuk and it was Neteyam. God dad, he's only fifteen! He should be a kid, not a father figure to his own sister!"

That cracked his heart, but you didn't care for the moment. You had to make him realize what kind of person he became. Only then, when that realization settled in, could all of you heal and continue forward.

"Neteyam is fifteen.. do you know how young that is? That would be highschool on earth! And even if Na'vi age works differently, he's still a boy! He should be growing up properly, have free time and hang out with teenagers his age. He shouldn't be babysitting 24/7 while still being a kid himself, that's your job. He should be your son first, and the future Olo'eyktan second."

Your eyes had teared up once again at the sight of Neteyam's hurt, his exhaustion, the smile that quite didn't reach his eyes.

You continued.

"You're so terribly hard on Lo'ak. He's reckless, always causing trouble which makes him the center of attention." You chuckled soft at your own words, "but have you ever wondered why he acts this way? Have you EVER went up to him, put your arm around his shoulders and asked if he was alright? Instead of always cutting him off? You spend so much time doing other stuff and when you turn to Lo'ak it's for punishng him. He just wants your attention, as his father. Do you know how damaging it is that he accepts that he could only grab your attention by doing stupid stuff?"

No, you weren't done yet.

"Tuk and Kiri. Such beautiful girls with kind hearts. Smart too, they know what they want. Do you know how they like to spend their free time?"

You tilted your head to the side, pursed lips as you awaited his answer. That never came and it only showed your words right. It honestly made you scoff in embarrassment.

"And after treating all your beautiful children like crap, you took me in like I was the only person in the world. You cared for me, set your attention on me and you thought that was right?"

You slowly got up from your, shaking your head furiously, "if this is the way you're going to parent... then I don't even want to call you my dad."

"I hate you papa!!" You sobbed loudly as you hugged your knees to your chest, soft whines leaving your lips with snot dripping down your nose. Your father hadn't been paying attention to you in a week. You were a very independent child. You could make yourself cereals and a cup of lemonade, but you needed that emotional connection. Something you hadn't gotten from anyone in days. He had been stressed, spending his hours with his nose buried in the screen and drinking away during his free time. You understood he was busy, but he had a full child at home, in need of attention. Without the proper attention you needed, you had thrown your tantrums. Throwing pillows, ripping folders and trying to empty the loads of vodka bottles in the cupboards. He had tried to ignore those silly tantrums of yours, just assuming it was because you're young. Yet when you emptied a bottle of alcohol on the floor, because you missed the sink with your tiny short legs, hell broke lose. He had screamed at you and grabbed harshly at your forearms, something he promised himself to never do to you. When he let go of you out of the horror of his own reaction, you had crawled to a corner out of fear, crying your heart out as the words escaped your lips. 'I hate you, daddy.' The words echoed through his head, like a taunt of how bad of a father he had been to you for the past days. His hand rested on the wheels of his wheelchair as he made his way towards you, slowly yet steadily. You had sobbed that you wanted him to stay away, since he was good at that up until a moment ago.

"I'm so sorry baby.." he took you in his arms, on his lap despite your punching and screaming. He held you, hugging you close, allowing you to punch and scream your frustrations out. It seemed to help, as your sobs slowed down, as well as your aggressive punching. With you cuddled up in his lap, he rolled towards the kitchen and took his two biggest bottles of alcohol in his hands. He nudged you and you looked up at him, a clear frown on your face as you saw him holding the familiar bottles. Your father smiled at you, uncapping the bottles and emptying its contents into the sink. You watched him, loud squeals leaving your lips as you smacked at the bottle while he did so. You didn't know what alcohol was, but you knew that when your daddy touched it, he wasn't your daddy anymore.

"Missed daddy.."

"I missed you too baby.. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, for everything." Parallels. Ironic. Your father had grabbed your hand, keeping you from walking (crawling due to your injuries) away. The words left his lips with a hitch, a soft breath that was stuck in his throat. You turn your head at his words, wondering if you heard them well. Jake had pulled you towards him, sitting on the same table as him.

"I'm sorry." His words were firm now, determined, laced with confidence. "I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry for putting you in a tough position on Pandora. I'm sorry for being unfair to the family I called my fortress. I'm sorry for tearing this family apart. I'm sorry for letting you down during your entire life." He didn't know what he wanted to reach with his apologies, but the moment they left his lips it felt as if a weight lifted from his chest. As if he could talk about it all now, with you.

"I wanted the best for us two, I wanted you to grow up well, without problems. Get into the besr schools, a job to live comfortably without worrying about money.. but I needed money to fulfill this wish. So I left. I left for a job that could pay for everything you needed. I left with the promise I would return, but I-"

"But you didn't." You cut him off, lips quivering as the tears continued to pool, "you forgot about the promise and left me alone."

He shook his head in response, "I didn't forget, oh eywa, I could never. I was.. ashamed? I went against my biological people and I didn't get money I promised to get you. I failed as a dad, I thought I didn't deserve to see you anymore.. so I stayed. I stayed and it was wrong of me to do so." His hand made their way to your wrists as he pulled you close to him, hugging you tight as if you would disappear were he to let you go.

"I now see how wrong this was of me. I should have asked you about it. What you thought, what you wanted. You were so young, yet you knew exactly what you wanted. I should have remembered how smart of a girl you were and still are. It was wrong of me to make that decision on my own."

It all came crashing down on you. All of a sudden, you were a clueless child again. That same clueless child from over a decade ago. The same child that cried to her hearts content as she came to know that her daddy left her without an explanation and didn't return. You cried at his chest, clawing at his blue skin as he craddled you like a baby. His baby, his daughter.

"It must have been confusing for you, suddenly being on a new planet and your dad unrecognizable to you. Then suddenly he pulls you in once he knows who you are to him, never directly speaking about everything that had happened.." there was no point in apologizing anymore. He could only understand, learn and be a better father for you. Only through his actions, he could apologize truthfully.

It was quiet for a while. A comfortable silence. Not the killing, awkward silence that filled the room not so long ago. The only thing heard were your soft sobs, as well as the soft kisses of reassurance that were pressed against your hair. Jake was loss in thoughts, wondering what he should say next. He knew he had to start about what you had said, about your siblings, about his kids.

But where could he possibly start?

He didn't want to fuck up again. He had to think carefully of what to say next.

"What about Teyam, Lo'ak, Kiri, Tuk?" Your voice cracked, hurt laced in your voice as you spoke. The mention of their names cracking something within Jake.

"They..." he took a deep breath, before continuing, "I projected my fears on them. I never got to fulfill the dreams I had for you and I projected that on Neteyam. He has an amazing future ahead of him, but I let my fears consume me. He's so talented, but he's incredibly young and he's missing out on his childhood. Him having fun won't change the way he acts. He has always been intelligent and very thoughtful."

You nodded your head in agreement and he could feel it against his skin. "Teyam's incredible, but he deserves a breather from time to time. I promise you, he won't slack off."

With that, Jake had to agree.

"Lo'ak.. reminds me of myself. Reckless, a headless chicken even." The both of you chuckle at that statement and Jake looked back at his first year on Pandora. He was reckless, stupid, embarassing.

"I see myself in him. Like someone chasing you in a dream, but you can't get away. It reminded me of my past mistakes, so I punished him in the hopes to witness his improvements. I never looked at it from a bigger perspective. He must have wondered why his dad treated him like shit.." he huffed at the irony of it all.

"Speak to him, spend time with him. Teach him the things you teach Teyam. Believe me, you will notice improvements in your relationship."

He nodded in agreement at your words.

"Kiri, Tuktirey. My beautiful girls.. I don't know why I barely bat an eye to them. Could it be because it reminded me of you? That it hurt to spend time with them out of shame for how I treated you? Or because I was too busy with my role as Olo'eyktan? I don't know, but it wasn't right of me. They don't deserve that treatment of being disregarded."

You smile at him, your father. Proud for finally speaking his heart out. "You should tell them, you know? Speak with them. Make things right. I know confronting the problem at hand might be hard, but you're the leader of an entire clan. This is supposed to be easy for you." You almost teased him for having an easier time being the leader of a clan while at war than being a father to a family.

He then gripped at your forearms. It wasn't a hard grip, more out of desperation. "I will make it right. Not only for you, but for my kids and mate, as well. I want to make it right with my family, so please, stay as well. Even if this might be a selfish request of me. You are my daughter, OUR daughter. And you have four siblings that accepted you faster than ever. So please, stay."

You bit down on your bottom lip. You didn't have much left on earth, expect the colonel. Would she be angry with you if you decided to stay? Just like you were angry with your dad? Or would she be proud that you had finally found the happiness you deserved?

Was it okay for you to be selfish?

A frown made its way on your voice as you look up at him, "but I don't belong here. I'm a human."

Did you yourself even believe that statement? There were a lot of humans left on Pandora, whom even lived among the people.

"You're just trying to convince yourself that you don't belong here so that you won't feel guilty." You scoffed. He could read you like a book.

"You belong here, with us. You know?"

You didn't reply. Instead, you wrapped your arms around father, squeezing the life out of him. Who would have known that such a small girl like you could hold him so tightly?

"Babygirl.. honey.." Jake gasped for air, his arms stuck in your tight embrace as he couldn't reach for his mask. You quickly pull away from him, watching him take a hold of the mask at his bedside and taking a deep whiff of Pandoran air.

You watch the entire ordeal in low chuckles.

Everything would be better now.

It has to be.

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joelscruff · 1 year

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for what it's worth (joel miller x reader) 18+

part 3 of the soft!dom joel collection has arrived! this one tackles some backstory; it's time to see how they met and how exactly their little "arrangement" came to be. i hope you guys like it, your feedback means the world to me. i also have a kofi if you'd like to give me a tip (but of course this is completely optional). previous parts: you know i don't mean it & don't think we could help it summary: your relationship with joel has always been complicated, but it's about to change drastically, for better or for worse. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: fem!reader, smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), mutual masturbation, praise kink, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), mentions of porn (specifically magazines) word count: 10k (it's a doozy) | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major but i figured i should warn for it anyway.

To say that your first day in Jackson is alienating would be an understatement.

You feel like everyone is staring at you (they are) and no one will let you out of their sight (they won't). You understand immediately that there's a lack of trust which will need to be formed as soon as possible, otherwise you'll never be able to create a home here.

"They're wary of you," Maria explains in your brand new living room - you still can't believe you just went from having barely any possessions to having your own house - and gives you a weak smile, "It'll pass, they just need to make sure you don't have any ulterior motives."

You get it, but it still hurts. Especially that night when you join your new community for dinner and find yourself sitting alone in the corner of the room, poking at your food and trying not to let your emotions betray you. You're determined not to show weakness, even though you've never felt more isolated. You can feel their eyes on you constantly, like they're waiting for you to pull out a rifle and start picking them off like a shooting gallery.

There's only one person who seems to be consistently minding his own business, a middle aged man who sits in the opposite corner of the room. He's hulking and broad, kind of intimidating, but there's a softness to his jaw and the grey scruff covering it that makes you see something else, something kind. He takes large bites and seems lost in his own thoughts, eyes fixed on the wall to his left but unfocused, like he's looking through it. He's by himself too, mirroring you, but you can tell by the way people move around him that he's been here for a long time. He must just enjoy his solitude.

"That's Joel," Maria tells you, sitting next to you and following your gaze, "He's my husband's brother, came down here a few years ago."

"He doesn't stare at me like everyone else does," you say, still looking over at him, "Does he just not care or...?"

To your surprise, she laughs, and everyone who's giving you dirty looks suddenly seems to soften. You're grateful for Maria then for bothering to talk to you, to try and trust you.

"Don't ask me to explain the things Joel does, I wouldn't be able to tell you," you notice that she has a full plate of food with her and that she's decided to sit next to you for dinner, an attempt to alleviate the mistrust for you in the room. You can't help but smile, thankful.

"He's a closed book," she continues, "Even Tommy finds him hard to read and he's his own brother."

She changes the subject then, wanting to know more about you and what you've been through, a not so subtle way of trying to get some information for the council. You humor her; you have nothing to lose.

Your eyes still stray to the man named Joel every so often as you speak, but you're not sure why. After about ten minutes he gets up to leave, and you watch him place his empty bowl in the dishwashing area and give the woman working there a small smile. She smiles back, says something to him. He laughs, and you can almost hear it over the bustle of the dining area. You watch as he says something else to her in parting, gives her one more smile, and turns and walks out the door. He doesn't look at you, not even once.

Over the next few weeks, things get better. Less people are looking at you and more people are actually trying to talk to you, get to know you. You have some nice conversations and answer questions about yourself - mostly appropriate, save for the one teenager who kept asking how you got the different scars along your bicep, the long one on your neck, the one on your cheek, stories you really didn't want to recount. After hounding you for a few minutes, her friend had pulled her away with an apology, "She likes scars," she'd said sheepishly, tugging the girl's arm, "Come on, Ellie, leave her alone."

You meet everybody, shake hands and even hug a few people. You start getting invited to things, asked to suggest films for movie night, help set up some games for the kids, Tommy even asks you one evening to help him herd a few sheep that had gotten loose. They trust you, and it feels good.

You still see that man, Joel, every night in the dining hall. But that's the only place you see him. You're not sure where he goes during the day or after dinner; he must just be a bit of a recluse, which you can't blame him for. The people here are nice but a lot are overbearing and a bit too friendly sometimes, plus it's hard to find time for yourself when everyone has tasks to complete and always likes to help each other out. You begin to wonder if he'll ever notice you, which leads you to wonder why it even matters to you that he does.

Your patrols start around the three month mark. Tommy takes you out with a small group beyond the borders of the community and shows you the ropes, points out where most of the patrol spots are with a pair of binoculars and goes over the routine. Your first assignment is simple: manning the watchtower with Maria. You spend most of the patrol getting to know her, hearing about her past and telling her more about yours. You like her a lot, she's easy to talk to and has a strong spirit akin to your own. The conversation gets pretty personal around the seventh hour, and you end up telling her how exactly you got the scar along your cheekbone. She listens deeply, thoughtfully, nodding along as you detail the more difficult things you've had to deal with in the past, the things that have made you stronger.

"You're tough," she says near the end of your shift, nudging your shoulder, "You don't really belong on watchtower, do you?"

You shrug, "I mean, if there's somewhere else I'd be more useful..."

"How'd you like to head out to the ski lodge with Joel next week?"

Your ears prick up at the name and you nod quickly, unsure exactly why, "Yeah, that'd be great!"

"He knows the area well," she adds, then grimaces, "I have to warn you though, he might not talk very much. He keeps to himself, I'm sure you've noticed."

You wonder why she's so quick to put you on patrol with someone who might not even speak to you, but it starts to make sense as you're walking back from the watchtower in the early hours of the morning. Tommy exits the dining hall and walks over to the both of you with a smile, pressing a tender kiss to Maria's cheek.

"How's my girl?" he asks flirtatiously, and she bats him away playfully.

"Was just telling the new recruit that she's gonna go on patrol with Joel next week," she replies, and Tommy stops in his tracks, raising an eyebrow.

"Her? With Joel?" he appraises you and bites his lip, "I don't know, honey, wouldn't she be better off with someone who'll actually talk to her? I thought she was on watchtower with you."

"Tommy, I never see you anymore," she gives him an exasperated look, "The weekends used to be for us and ever since the Kingstons left-"

"I know, I know," he looks at you again, twisting his mouth in thought, "I've been, uh, a lot busier than usual lately. We had this family here for a while, big family, they helped out with the patrols. But they decided to go south a few months back, so-"

"So Tommy's been filling in for every shift he can," Maria finishes for him with a sigh, "And I never see the damn idiot anymore."

You smile, "I'm totally fine with taking over for you, really."

Tommy raises an eyebrow, "Seriously? You sure?" Maria slaps his arm lightly and he gives her a look, but then shrugs, "I mean, okay, if you wanna give it a try. It won't be all the time or anything, maybe just every other weekend, but it would actually be a big help."

"It really would," Maria adds, "You have no idea."

"But... you gotta understand, my big brother, he's.... he's complicated," Tommy's expression is serious now as he looks at you, "He's not very talkative these days, not since..." he shakes his head and you don't push it any further, though you do wonder what's changed.

"So you'll do it?" Maria asks, eyes bright.

"Even if he doesn't talk to you?" Tommy adds with a grimace.

You nod, somehow believing it won't actually be that bad.

It is that bad.

The first time you're officially introduced to Joel he doesn't even bother to shake your hand, just nodding vaguely to you as you stand there like an idiot with your palm outstretched. Tommy makes a face at him and then looks back to you with a reassuring smile.

"There's not usually much trouble up at the ski lodge," he says kindly, ignoring Joel's ambivalence, "The trek back and forth is arguably the worst part. The lifts were already damaged beyond repair when we got here so it's a bit of a hike, 'bout an hour to get up there and the same back."

You begin to wonder if maybe this really isn't the best idea, eyeing Joel silently as Tommy explains what you should expect. You've seen this man smile, know he's capable of making some kind of small talk, but it's clear that you're not an ideal candidate as he stands there stiffly and lets Tommy do the talking. Tommy had told you earlier that if the patrol didn't go well he wouldn't make you do it again, and you're already thinking this might be your first and last shift with Joel.

Tommy walks with both of you to about the halfway point, still going over the routine as Joel trudges silently ahead of you. He hasn't said a word, not one word. It's honestly starting to piss you off.

"Well, I gotta head back," Tommy says, giving you another smile of reassurance, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, see how it went, see if we might make this more permanent." He seems doubtful but you can't blame him.

A few moments later it's just you and Joel, hiking in complete silence save for the sounds of nature. The cogs in your head frantically turn, trying to land on something you can say to make things less awkward.

"So, when's the last time you saw infected up here?" you settle on, hoping it'll be enough to start some kind of conversation.

"'Bout a month ago," he replies immediately, voice gruff but quiet, "Weren't too many."

He's got an accent like his brother but it's fainter, less obnoxious, like he's spent more time with non-southern people in the later years of his life. Tommy had said they'd grown up in Texas and lived there 'til he was in his late 20s and Joel his mid 30s, then somewhere along the way they'd separated. You don't know much else about him other than that.

"It's the people you mainly worry about though, right?" you ask, quoting something Tommy had said a few weeks back, "Tommy said you've had more run-ins with raiders than infected."

"Tommy's tellin' you too much," he replies with a grunt, "Don't know what he's even thinking sendin' some kid up here."

You feel anger rise in your chest immediately, "I'm not a kid, asshole."

He stops then, turns around and appraises you with his eyebrows furrowed. It's the first time he's actually gotten a good look at you, his gaze catching on your face for a lasting moment before his eyes fall to your gun. You feel slightly vulnerable, intimidated by his heavy stare.

"How old are you?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"Twenty seven."

His brow furrows even more, "Coulda sworn he said you were seventeen."

"Well, I'm not," you reply awkwardly.

"No, you're not," he acknowledges, "I'm sorry," He seems to mean it, giving you the smallest of apologetic nods and then turning around again to keep walking.

"You thought Tommy sent a seventeen year old up here with you? I thought you had to be eighteen to patrol outside the border."

"You do, I just wouldn't put it past Tommy to send a kid up here with me," he grumbles, "Wouldn't be the first time."

"...Why?"

"None of your business."

"Okay, but now I'm just thinking you're some kind of pervert," you say it in a joking manner but he doesn't laugh. Instead, he stops again and spins around, looking at you with what you can only explain as pure rage. You flinch backward, eyes widening.

"Do I look like a fucking pervert to you?" he asks, voice hard and angry.

"I was joking," you say immediately, shaking your head frantically, "It didn't land."

"No, it fucking didn't," he starts walking again at a faster pace, leaving you standing there completely floored.

Yeah, it's bad.

"Ellie's not speaking to him," Tommy explains to you the next morning in the dining hall, hands gripping his coffee mug. You've just told him about your patrol with Joel and the horrible impression you've already managed to make. "I really shouldn't be telling you this but with an outburst like that...I need you to understand why he reacted the way he did."

You look at him, bewildered, "Ellie? That teenager who plays guitar down by the stream?" And the one who'd relentlessly bothered you with questions about your scars, but you keep that part to yourself.

"Yeah, she's...well for all intents and purposes, she's Joel's kid. And she stopped talking to him a while ago, maybe six or seven months back now," he takes a sip of coffee, "Don't ask me why 'cause I have no idea. I've asked both of them and neither'll give me any kind of explanation. All I know is they ain't speakin' and he's heartbroken over it."

"Must've been a bad argument," you say, scrunching your nose in thought, "I mean...seven months? That's a long time to not speak to someone, especially your dad."

"Eh, you haven't met Ellie. She's one of the most stubborn people I've ever met. They both are," he shakes his head, "Anyway, you calling him a perv probably pissed him off 'cause Ellie's real special to him, a surrogate daughter. He wouldn't like someone misunderstanding that, seein' somethin' dirty or wrong there."

"I wasn't-"

He puts a hand up, nodding, "I know you weren't, I get it, no worries. It's partly my fault anyway 'cause he's right, I have tried to send a teen or two up with him, thought it'd do him good to mentor somebody again. But he doesn't want it, I know that now. He doesn't want it if it's not Ellie."

"Well, he doesn't seem to like me anyway, no matter how old I am," you sigh, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms, "I mean, he didn't talk to me once after that, not for the whole shift. It was bad. I don't know if it's gonna work, Tommy. I'm sorry."

He nods and gives you a small smile, thumbing the handle of his mug, "It's okay, I didn't think it'd work out anyways." He tries to hide the disappointment in his expression but fails miserably, and you leave the dining hall feeling bad about your failure.

A few days later you're back in the dining hall finishing up dinner, chatting with a few of the community members who you've warmed up most to. There's not many, but you are starting to find yourself feeling more and more comfortable around people as the days go on, more like yourself. You're caught up in a story about an infected you'd encountered in a gas station when their gazes suddenly divert from you and instead fix above your head. Confused, you slow your words and turn around.

"Oh, hi," you say, voice a bit breathless when you see Joel standing there, hands in his pockets, "Did you need something?"

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you," he says it softly, kindly, completely the opposite of how he'd talked to you before, "When you're finished, of course."

"Oh, yeah, sure," your words are broken and awkward, "Uh, I'll meet you...?"

"I'll be outside the main doors," he says quickly, "Take your time."

"Okay, I'll be out in a few."

He nods to you and then to your friends, then turns on his heel and walks out through the big double doors at the end of the dining area. You watch him go, bewildered.

"I thought he hated you," one of your friends says, voicing exactly what you're currently thinking.

"Yeah," you reply, furrowing your brow, "So did I."

You finish your story much quicker than intended and shove away from the table, waving goodbye to your friends and bringing your empty dish to the cleaning station. You push past the double doors and scan the outside area for Joel, eyeing the picnic tables where a few people are enjoying their meals in the fresh air.

"Hey," you hear behind you, and you turn to see him leaning against the left side of the building, arms crossed, "Over here."

You walk over, trying to plan out exactly what you're going to say so you don't end up making some stupid joke again that'll push him further away from you. It turns out you don't need to, because he speaks first.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry," he says it seriously, a soft and genuine look in his brown eyes, "I treated you horribly the other day, you didn't deserve that."

You raise an eyebrow, "Did Tommy put you up to this?"

He frowns, "No."

"Are you sure? 'Cause if he did...I mean, I get it. It's nice of him to look out for me like that but you really don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything, I'm the one who said the tactless joke."

"Tommy didn't say anything to me," he seems to mean it, kicking the toe of his boot against the building, "And I know you were joking, I knew it then too but I'd just..." he takes a breath, avoiding eye contact, "I was havin' a bad day. Doesn't excuse my behavior by any means but it...you just..." he finally looks at you again, expression pained, "I wasn't expectin' you to be there. Tommy only told me you were takin' over for him about ten minutes before you showed up. And then I thought you were a kid and-"

You put your hand up, silencing him, "Joel, it's okay. You don't have to explain."

"I didn't even shake your damn hand," he says gruffly, sounding genuinely ashamed.

You extend your hand to him immediately, splaying your fingers out into the cold air, "Here, shake it now." He stares at it, unsure, and you wiggle it a bit in response, "Seriously, it's okay. Let's start over, clean slate."

He slowly reaches up to take it, his much bigger hand enveloping yours completely. His grip is strong and firm and you can feel calluses along his fingers, showing you exactly who taught Ellie how to play that guitar.

"Clean slate," he repeats, and it begins.

He's annoying, but you kinda love it.

He's grumpy most of the time, hates when you don't obey his orders, isn't afraid to give you shit, and gets irritated with you very easily. But it goes both ways. You're stubborn and set in your ways, you hate being told what to do, you dish it just as much as you take it, and it doesn't take much to get you riled up. And somehow, as much as you'd both probably hate to admit it, you work well together.

After your little conversation with Joel outside the dining hall, you'd flagged down Tommy and told him you were willing to try again with Joel on another patrol. He'd looked at you like you were crazy but hadn't shot the idea down, telling you that if it's what you really wanted, he'd keep the schedule the same.

You've been up on the mountain with Joel three times now, and while there's certainly been challenges and a few arguments, it's starting to become a routine. He doesn't talk about himself - it's a bit of an unspoken rule that you dare not break - but in return you don't tell him much about you either. Your main conversation points are usually tied to your interests, not your pasts, and you find yourself discussing movies with him, as well as music and books. He's surprisingly well-read for someone in an apocalypse, but you suppose he could say the same thing about you.

The fourth trip is what sets things in motion.

"Did you catch the movie last night?" you ask nonchalantly as you hike beside him, almost to the ski lodge. It's early morning, around five, and the sun is just beginning to crest the tree line, "I don't think Maria knew about the sex scene."

He groans, reaching up to rub the space between his eyes - you've noticed that he does this a lot, a quirk you've become rather fond of.

"Yes," he replies, wincing, "I heard her givin' Tommy a piece of her mind afterwards."

"The way she was yelling for him to turn off the projector was so fucking funny," you grin at the memory, still fresh in your mind, "And listen, I get it, sex is taboo, yada yada yada, but it's not like there were any little kids there last night, it was just the teens. And it's not like it was a porno or something, it was one little sex scene."

"Oh, I know, but I think Maria's trying to keep 'em as innocent as possible for as long as she can."

"Good luck with that," you snort, "I think we all lost our innocence a long time ago, for better or for worse."

"For worse," he replies instantly, "Definitely for worse."

"You're probably right," you grimace, "Although, you know what? I've actually never seen a porno."

He raises an eyebrow at you, "Seriously? Never?"

You bristle slightly, suddenly a little self conscious, "Well, it's not like there's an adult video store in this town, is there?" You can remember them existing when you were a kid, before everything happened, but it's not like you'd had any use for them at that time.

"No, you're right," he turns away from you, lost in thought for a moment, "They do still exist though. Pornos, I mean. Just in other forms. There's a stack of magazines up at the ski lodge, actually."

Your eyes go wide, "Wait, really?"

"Yup."

"Could I maybe..." you trail off and stop speaking, realizing that you should definitely not be asking what you're thinking.

"Look at 'em?" he finishes for you, not looking behind him as he keeps walking, "And you call me a pervert."

The conversation ends there, and you don't dare try to continue it.

The day is spent keeping watch along the ski lodge balcony, binoculars passed back and forth as you trade shifts and chat here and there about irrelevant things. Your main objective in this patrol spot is to keep watch of the main watchtower's blind spots, keeping an aerial view of the border perimeter in case people - mainly raiders - decide to make themselves known. You'd thought early on in your admittance to Jackson that infected were their main concern, but you've come to learn that's not the case at all. When Joel had said they'd come across infected up here he'd been lying to you; they'd actually come across a group of raiders who'd tried - and failed - to murder Joel and Tommy during their watch. Not the most reassuring thing to hear now that you've taken over, but you needed to know.

"It's why we got the trip wires down near the entrance now," Joel had explained to you during your second patrol with him, "We won't get snuck up on again," he'd made a face, "Not unless someone decides to disobey my orders."

You'd given him a weak smile, remembering how you'd decided not to heed his warning about going outside the ski lodge after light's out and ended up almost getting your leg shot off by a booby trap, "My bad." He'd rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself.

Now that it's your fourth watch you've gotten the hang of things and have learned to enjoy the semi-solitude of being on the mountain with Joel. He's got a battery operated radio and a box of cassette tapes that keep you from being bored out of your mind, plus a few containers of books that he and Tommy had carried up over the course of a few patrols. Now that you really think about it, you don't remember seeing any of the aforementioned porn Joel had spoken of in any of those crates.

It's midday when you decide to glance through them again out of curiosity, handing the binoculars over to Joel and slipping past him as he traipses out onto the balcony. You head for the boxes immediately and start to dig through them, not sure exactly what you're even looking for. Someone naked, you guess.

"They're not in there," Joel calls to you after a few minutes and you stiffen, turning to look at him through the glass where he can very clearly see what you're doing. He's got a shit-eating grin on his face and you feel your skin flush red.

"I don't know what you're even talking about," you call back, walking away from the books and plopping yourself in the chair by the unlit fireplace, which has somehow become your chair via another unspoken rule, "I was looking for a tape."

"Okay, well the 'tape' you're looking for is in the back of the supply closet," he sounds like he's fighting back laughter and your skin burns even more, "Underneath a box of cleaning supplies."

"I'm ignoring you," you yell out, "Get back to work."

You swear you hear a muffled laugh through the glass.

When he comes in from his shift he barely looks at you, just pushes past you lightly and heads for the supply closet. You follow behind him, heart pounding a bit harder in your chest the closer you get to the stash. He opens the closet door and you watch as he yanks out the cleaning supplies, then digs a bit deeper and reappears with six or seven magazines in his arms.

"Here," he leans them toward you and you hesitantly reach forward to take them from him, "They're mostly from the 90s."

"And you know this because....?" you raise an eyebrow and you swear his cheeks go pink.

"I'm a man," he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant as he passes you again to head back to the living room.

"Perv," you call after him, but he doesn't turn around this time.

"You got ten minutes."

You've never seen so much nudity in your life, which is saying something considering you'd seen your fair share of it back in your QZ when life had been a bit easier. But seeing it on paper, in photographs that have somehow lasted through years of this shitty reality, it's something else entirely. You stare with wide eyes at the onslaught of naked bodies, most of which are posed in extremely graphic sexual positions, and feel your heart continue to pound in your chest.

Without much thought you'd opened the first magazine right there where Joel left you standing outside the supply closet, and you now find yourself sitting in said closet with your flashlight aimed at the pages, breathing heavily and trying to comprehend exactly how you feel about what you're looking at. A lot of it feels kind of fake, especially the looks on the faces of the models, but there's enough sexual energy there that makes you start to feel a bit wet in your underwear, a feeling you haven't experienced for quite some time; not since a few a years ago in the QZ when you'd been in your last relationship.

"I gave you ten minutes," you suddenly hear Joel say from the other room, and you quickly scramble to your feet and frantically shut the magazine, "In case you forgot, it's your turn."

"Fuck," you trip out of the closet and dash to the living room, clutching your brand new collection of media to your chest, "Sorry, I got distracted."

He stands by the balcony door and looks you over quickly, eyes scanning from the magazines to your face and back again, "Enjoy yourself?" his expression is unreadable and it makes you self conscious.

"Oh please," you reply, making a face, "Do not start."

"So which was your favorite?" he asks you casually once darkness has fallen and you're both safely settled in the lodge for the night.

"Which what?"

He looks at you from over his book and gives you a look, like he's questioning your sanity. You stare for a moment and then slap your hand over your eyes when you realize.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you groan, "I'm never gonna hear the end of this now, am I?"

He laughs and you look over at him again, laying there on the couch with a smug look on his face. You retaliate by grabbing the pillow behind you and tossing it at him, making him drop the book he's reading.

"Hey!" he reaches down to pick it up again, "I showed them to you, I'm allowed to ask."

"False," you say, flipping your hair, "And for your information, I only managed to look at one of them."

He chuckles to himself and returns to his book, "Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone. I was just kiddin'."

"Joel Miller? Kidding?" you make a faux-shocked face, "I fear we've entered the Twilight Zone."

"Don't even pretend you know what that is," he says it seriously but his smile betrays him, "You didn't know about the Twilight Zone 'til I told you about it last week."

"That's just what I wanted you to think."

He rolls his eyes and keeps reading, letting the silence take over again. You watch his eyes scan the page back and forth, taking in the story - whatever it is - and transporting himself to another world, away from the ski lodge. He does this every patrol once it's too dark to see outside, sets the battery powered lantern to its highest setting and reads until he falls asleep. You wish you had his concentration and focus; instead, you curl up in the red armchair and force your eyes shut until your thoughts quiet down enough to let you sleep. Which is difficult tonight especially, seeing as all you can think about are those damn magazines.

After about five more minutes of silence you take a deep breath, then quietly say, "The one with the blonde girl in the bunny ears."

You don't dare look at him, waiting for his response and focusing instead on the empty fireplace beside you. You hear the crinkling of paper as he dogears the page of his book and then the gentle thud as he places it on the floor.

"That's a good one," he says just as quietly.

Another moment of silence passes, and your skin feels like it's on fire as you whisper, "I like the page where she's like...bent over."

"I can't remember the pages, if I'm being honest," he replies, "I haven't looked at them in a while."

You nod to yourself, "Well, there's this page where the guy has her bent over a table. And he's like...pounding into her from behind." You wait for him to say something else but he doesn't so you continue, "It's one of the only pages where she actually looks like she's enjoying herself."

"Hey, uh, I really was just kiddin'," he says awkwardly, "You don't have to tell me, it's okay."

"Oh," you can't help but sound dejected and embarrassed, your fingers trembling a little bit as you push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Sorry."

"I mean, if you want to, you can," he corrects, sounding slightly embarrassed himself, "I know you probably....you probably want to talk about it."

You bite down on your lip and sigh exasperatedly, placing your hands over your face, "Kinda," you mumble against your fingers, "It's all I can think about right now."

"Did it make you uncomfortable?" he asks, voice still gentle, "A lot of people are offended by that kinda stuff, you wouldn't be the first person to find it weird."

"It's definitely weird," you take a shaky breath and drop your hands, "But no, I'm not uncomfortable. It was....I mean, it was hot," you bite your lip, "I haven't even thought about sex for a long time so it made me...uh..."

The silence is deafening and apparently neither of you wants to break it as you sit there without speaking, letting your words hang in the dead air. You suddenly feel like you want to crawl out of your skin for saying anything to begin with, for even asking about the magazines in the first place.

"Wet?" he suddenly says, voice breaking a bit, "It made you wet?"

"Very," you reply, relieved that he's not freaked out and trying to change the subject.

"Well, that's normal," he says, voice stiff.

You can't help but laugh, finally peering over at him and seeing that he's just laying there, staring at the ceiling, "I know it's normal, Joel. It's not my first time being turned on, trust me."

"Well, what am I supposed to say?" he grumbles, looking at you in exasperation, "You can't just say that and expect me to give you a casual response. It made you wet, you got turned on, congratulations."

You stare at him, watching as he reaches for his book again, "Wait," you clamor out of the chair and reach beneath it to grab the magazine you'd looked at earlier. You shuffle over to him, thumbing through the pages until you find the right one, "Here," you open to the correct page and show it to him, "This is the one I'm talking about."

His eyes assess the page, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily in his throat as he takes in what you were referring to. He nods slowly, "Okay yeah, I see what you mean. She's about to come, that's why she looks like that."

Your brow furrows, "You can tell that from a picture?"

He shrugs, eyes still on the magazine, "Well, see, he's rubbin' her clit," he points to it and your face goes hot again, "And he's fuckin' her pretty hard. So yeah, I'd say she's either already comin' or about to." his gaze shifts back to you, noticing that you're staring, and he awkwardly pushes the magazine back toward you, "What?"

"I just..." you swallow, shaking your head apologetically, "Sorry, it just sounded really dirty hearing you say that."

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, shifting on the couch and leaning away from you as he crosses his arms, "Well, you asked."

"I know, I don't mean it in a bad way," you step back and realize you're suddenly throbbing in your jeans, feeling that familiar wetness again, "It just... hearing you say it out loud like that, it makes the picture hotter, somehow."

He looks at you, gaze trailing from your eyes to your lips. You suddenly feel like you've said too much, exposed even though you're fully dressed, and you walk back over to the chair and quickly plop back down in it. You give him another look and see his lips parting like he's going to say something else. Instead he takes a breath and drops his eyes from your face, twisting around on the couch to face the opposite way, "It's late, we should sleep."

"Y-yeah," you breathe, crossing your legs, heart stuttering as your clothed core presses wetly against the denim of your jeans. "You're right."

You curl back up in the chair and try to calm your breath, slow your heart, try not to focus too much on the fact that hearing Joel of all people say the phrases he's rubbin' her clit and fuckin' her pretty hard has made you start falling to pieces. Do you even see Joel that way? Has there ever been a moment where you found yourself thinking about him like that? You want to tell yourself the answer is no, that your body is simply experiencing some pent-up sexual frustration and he has nothing to do with it, but you know you'd be lying to yourself.

He's hot. It's not some shocking revelation or something you've realized over time. There's a reason you'd felt so drawn to him that first day in the dining hall, a reason you'd watched out for him every day and hoped he'd notice you. Hell, there's a reason you're still doing patrols with him despite him being a pain in the ass. You're not an idiot, you know yourself well enough by now to know what these things mean.

You're attracted to him. You've been attracted to him this whole damn time.

You shut your eyes tight and curl up into a ball, holding your knees to your chest. He's rubbin' her clit, his voice echoes in your mind, and your cunt begins to ache.

Stop thinking about it, you shake his words away and try to focus on falling asleep. There's no way you're gonna touch yourself right now, not with him in the room, and you're not gonna excuse yourself either like some horny teenager. You can do this, you can get through it, it'll go away soon.

It doesn't go away.

About twenty minutes later you're still sitting there with your eyes shut, trying your hardest not to touch yourself. But it's so fucking difficult. His words are playing on a loop in your head, over and over, soft yet rough, kind yet sexy, his southern drawl making it all the more hotter:

She's about to come, that's why she looks like that.

He's rubbin' her clit.

He's fuckin' her pretty hard.

I'd say she's either already comin' or about to.

You squirm in the chair, imagining what he'd sound like whispering that in your ear with his fingers pumping in and out of you as you came undone beneath him. Rubbin' her clit, his voice breathes in your mind, fuckin' her pretty hard, she's about to come.

You're ten seconds from breaking your own rule and heading back to the supply closet to find some release when you hear an unfamiliar sound coming from a few feet away. Your eyes flutter open, thoughts stopping momentarily as you try to figure out what it is. You turn slightly in your chair to see if Joel hears it too, and you feel your breath stop completely.

He's turned off the lantern so you can't see him properly, but you can make out the shadow of him in the moonlight, see the long shape of him directly mirrored against the floorboards and his hand stroking himself up and down, quick and rough. Your lips part in disbelief, realizing the noise you're hearing is the sound of his palm slapping against the base of his cock as he jacks himself off.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

Here you've been, desperately trying to push away any and all sense of desire so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself, wouldn't make him uncomfortable, and here he is doing that exact thing. Angrily, almost out of spite, you sit up in the chair and stuff your hand down your jeans.

Two can play at that game, asshole.

Your finger goes straight to your clit and you begin to rub it furiously, eyes trained on the dark outline of his hand moving up and down. You can only vaguely make out the shape of him but it's enough to make you start dripping, the base of your palm getting slick as you stimulate yourself continuously. He's well endowed, that much is obvious, and you watch his silhouette as he releases his large cock for a moment to bring his hand to his mouth and lick a stripe along his palm. You have to bite down on your lip to suppress the moan that threatens to bubble from your throat at the action, watching through lidded eyes as he brings his wet hand back down and fists himself once more.

Without much thought you slip your middle finger inside yourself, eyes trained on him as you pretend it's his cock pushing past your entrance. It's pretty difficult to imagine though, considering his cock is probably five times as girthy as your one finger, but you make do. You can kind of make out the shape of the tip, wide and shiny, disappearing and reappearing over and over. You slip a second finger inside and bite back a whimper.

The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin and the sudden wet squelch of your fingers; you don't even bother to try and make it softer, you're getting off now whether he knows or not, the fullness overwhelming you as you lick your lips and furrow your brow. You haven't masturbated in a long time; you know it won't take you long to get what you need.

"Are you-" he suddenly gasps into the darkness, and your head snaps up to look at him again, heart pounding when you see that his hand has stilled on his cock and he's looking over at you with an expression of pure disbelief.

You should probably be embarrassed, apologetic, but instead you can't help but feel a rush of pride, of spite, as he realizes what you're doing.

"Like you're not," you hiss back, practically spitting as you continue to fuck yourself, "I'm not deaf."

"Thought you were sleepin'," he says back, and you can see his fingers clench around his length, like he's doing everything in his power not to stroke himself.

"And that makes it less weird?"

He groans and lets go of himself completely, sitting up slightly on the couch and shaking his head like he's trying to wake himself up from a dream he isn't having. When he looks at you again his eyes fall to where you're still getting off, not bothering to be sneaky about the way he practically bores a hole in your jeans with his gaze.

"So what are you gonna do about it?" he challenges gruffly, eyes coming back up to meet yours, the hint of a cocky smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Oh, he's proud of himself, isn't he?

You glare at him, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going," you mean it too, fingers not even slowing down as you pant breathlessly in his direction, "And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."

It does matter, actually, it really does. If he was to get up and walk out... it would basically be a rejection, something you're not sure you'll be able to deal with. You don't break eye contact with him, staring him down as you give him your own challenge.

He swallows, gives you one last look, and then flops back down into a horizontal position as he reaches for himself again. He returns to his quick strokes, almost purposely more heavy this time as he mutters, "No talking. Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"

"Deal," you reply immediately, and add a third finger.

It doesn't take long for you to find your release, a particularly hard slap of skin from Joel on the couch pushing you over the edge. You don't try to stifle your moan this time, focusing completely on enjoying your orgasm as your hand stills in your pants and you begin to shake in the chair. Your hips buck pathetically, eyes shutting tight as you whimper and cry out in pleasure.

"Jesus Christ," you hear Joel pant a few seconds afterward, followed by a long groan as he starts to come too, "Fuck."

You manage to catch a glimpse of the way he twists his wrist, aims his cock against his button-down and stains it with his release. You wish you had a better view, that it wasn't so dark, but just hearing him come apart is enough. It's exactly what you hoped it would be.

You lay there in silence for a few moments, both of you panting breathlessly from your orgasms as the weight of what you've just done starts to creep in. You're suddenly slightly afraid of what he'll say, what he'll do. Will he get mad? Will he say he doesn't want to patrol with you anymore? You decide immediately that you don't want him to have the first word.

"What were you thinking about?" you ask, barely a whisper.

It takes a few moments for him to reply, and you start to worry that you've already ruined everything, but then he answers.

"Bunny ears," he says quietly.

"What?"

"I was thinkin' about the bunny ear girl," he's still breathless, "From the magazine. Weren't you?"

You figure you can't dig the hole any deeper.

"I was just watching you, Joel," you breathe, feeling butterflies tingle in your belly at the words, "Didn't have to think about anything else."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, then mumbles something to himself that you don't understand. You can't fully make out his expression but you swear you see him frown in the moonlight, not exactly the response you were aiming for. He suddenly turns on the couch again to face away from you, exhaling loudly, "Go to sleep."

The words strike you hard, lips parting in surprise. You obviously hadn't expected him to completely reciprocate, to jump into your arms and kiss you, but that? "Go to sleep"? What the fuck kind of a response is that? You stare at him, hoping against reason that he'll turn around again and apologize, say something different, but he doesn't.

"Yeah, sure," you mutter, curling back up into a ball in the chair and hoping sleep finds you as soon as possible so you don't have to think anymore, "Asshole."

You hope he hears you.

You wake the next morning to the sound of someone rummaging nearby, and you open your eyes blearily to see Joel crouched near the door, packing his bag. You stretch and yawn automatically, momentarily forgetting what had transpired between the two of you last night. His head tilts up to look at you and it all comes flooding back when you see that familiar frown on his face.

"Do you ever smile?" you say, voice rough with sleep.

He rolls his eyes and goes back to his pack, shaking his head, "Like you're so chipper."

"Well, at least I have a good reason to be annoyed," you snap, sitting up in the chair and stretching your legs, "Asshole."

"You love to call me that, don't you?"

"Just calling it like I see it," you mutter, pulling yourself up and heading past him to the door, "I'm taking a piss."

"Watch out for th-"

"The trip wires, I know," you interrupt coldly, "I'm not an idiot."

He doesn't say anything else but you feel his eyes on your back as you walk out onto the balcony and down the steps. You both have to pee in the woods when you're out here - the ski lifts aren't the only things that don't work properly anymore - so you've managed to each figure out your own designated area. You feel relieved once you're out of his eyesight and beneath the thick layer of tree branches that keep your makeshift bathroom secluded.

You really shouldn't be so pissed at him, it's not like he owes you anything. You know you're projecting your own feelings onto him and that it isn't fair, but god, him telling you to go to sleep after you'd essentially confessed your attraction to him makes your blood boil. He'd really had nothing else to say? Couldn't have come up with something a little softer, a little kinder? Let you down easy?

You grumble to yourself on the way back up the steps, questioning whether or not you should keep ignoring him or just get over it. Is it really worth an hours hike of hostility? You already know this is your last shift with him, there's no way you can come back from this in any way that will keep your dignity intact. It's over.

"You say you're not a kid but you sure do act like one," Joel says the second you re-enter the ski lodge, and you stop dead in your tracks. He's got his arms crossed, nose flaring in anger, "I'm sick and tired of the silent treatment, the cold shoulder, all that shit. What happened to people just talkin' to each other?"

You shut the door behind you and shake your head, "I'm not giving you the silent treatment Joel, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," his voice is firm but you can hear some emotion there, something deeper. He doesn't like being ignored and you know why, but it doesn't soften your resolve.

"I'm pissed at you, yeah," you admit, shrugging, "But I think I have a pretty valid reason."

"And what is it?"

You stare, scrunching up your face in confusion, "Are you serious? Jesus, Joel, I thought you were smart."

"Oh, fuck off," he grumbles, rolling his eyes again, "I ain't a mind reader."

You shake your head again, inhaling deeply, "I'm not asking you to read my mind, Joel," you exhale and try to calm yourself, feeling the angry tears begin to sting your eyes. God, you hate how emotional you get when you're angry. You hate showing weakness like this.

"Then tell me," he groans, "Is it about last night? 'Cause I thought we made a deal that we're not gonna talk about it."

You laugh at his words, cold and hard, "Right, yeah, sorry. Deal's a deal, right? My bad," you couldn't sound more sarcastic if you tried, stuffing your roll of toilet paper back in your pack and zipping it up, "Come on, let's just head back and forget about it." Your voice cracks on the last few words and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling the tears spill over.

"Are you crying?" his voice falters, and you hear a twinge of kindness in his tone, something you'd desperately wanted to hear last night.

He crosses the room before you even have a chance to reply, striding over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder firmly, making you turn around. His face softens immediately when he sees the tears streaming down your face, the tears you're already trying to wipe away.

"Fuck," he says, brow furrowing in concern, "I'm sorry."

You snort involuntarily, shaking your head, "I'm just stupid."

"You're not stupid," it's almost a whisper, "I'm the stupid one, believe me," he brings his hand up like he's going to touch your face but seems to think better of it, bringing it back to your shoulder again, "I shouldn't have... I don't know what I was thinkin' last night, I'm sorry. You showed me that magazine and-"

You put your hand up to silence him, "I don't care about why, Joel. I don't even care that you did it, it's not like I told you to stop."

His brow furrows deeper, "Then what...?"

You close your eyes, breathing deeply before putting on your best impression of him and mumbling, "Go to sleep," like he had the night before, opening your eyes again to see if he understands.

He stares at you for a few seconds, confused, but you watch as it suddenly dawns on him, realization spreading across his features. He suddenly lets go of your shoulder and takes a few steps back, eyes falling to the floor.

"You can't... you can't think of me that way," he says it gruffly, swallowing and shaking his head.

You stand there without saying anything, waiting until he finally looks back up at you to speak. When he does, you make sure to look directly in his eyes.

"Why not?"

His hand comes up to touch the back of his neck and you swear you see patches of red begin to bloom along his collarbone, like he's embarrassed...or flattered? You take a step forward and he quickly takes another step backward.

"If it's because of the age thing... I really don't care, Joel," you say earnestly, heart beginning to beat heavily in your chest, "I think you're..." You can't believe the words are even coming out of your mouth, the tears on your face already beginning to dry as you try to process this new situation you've found yourself in, "I think you're sexy."

His brow furrows again, not in anger but in confusion. He doesn't take another step backward when you move toward him this time, staying rooted in place as you peer up at him, waiting for him to speak. He remains silent, his eyes trained directly on your face, lips set in a firm line.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

He shakes his head slowly, "I don't."

"Why?"

He doesn't reply, just keeps staring at you like he has absolutely no idea what to say. You suddenly feel the need to reassure him, comfort him. Your hand moves upward, aching to cup his face in your hand, feel that grey scruff beneath your palm.

He pulls back before you get the chance, shaking his head again, "Don't," it's barely a whisper, voice breaking as he says it, "Just...gimme a minute."

"Okay," you nod, dropping your hand, "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizin'," he breathes, still not breaking eye contact, "Just let me think, please."

You swallow, teeth tugging on your lip as he continues to stand there motionless. He's still looking at you but his thoughts are miles away; you can practically see the wheels turning in his head, calculating exactly what he's supposed to do in a situation like this. Part of you wants him to kiss you, part of you wants to kiss him, part of you wants to wait until he makes a decision. You settle firmly on the third option.

"I lied," he finally breaks the silence, jaw tense and firm, "I wasn't thinkin' about that fuckin' bunny ear model."

Your lips part; you hadn't been expecting him to say that.

"Then...what were you thinking about?" You already know the answer before he replies.

"You," his voice is strained, broken, like he's holding himself back, "I was thinkin' about you and the stupid magazines in the supply closet."

You feel your skin flush, a tingle trailing up the back of your neck as you try not to show him how pleased you are, "W-what?"

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about you in that closet, lookin' at those pictures, getting...." he trails off and swallows, then whispers, "Wet. Gettin' all wet in your panties from that girl getting fucked."

His words send an immediate throb to your core and you can feel your heart in your throat, pounding relentlessly as he continues to speak, continues to say exactly what's been on his mind as you stand in front of him, so much smaller than him, letting his words get lost in the sudden warmth of your body and the buzz of your thoughts.

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about it," he repeats, voice rough, eyes dark, "Your wet panties, your big eyes, your..." he practically chokes then, "Your pussy, all wet and aching."

"Oh my god," you whimper, crossing your legs involuntarily as you feel an immediate surge of wetness in your underwear, "Please, keep talking, please."

"Wanted to see it and touch it," he murmurs, his breath ghosting across your face as he peers down at you with desire in his eyes, "Wanted to fuck it and make you come."

Without hesitation your arms shoot up to wrap around his neck, burying your face in his warm chest and tugging at the collar of his coat, "I want you to," you practically moan, clawing at the material, "Joel, I need you to fuck me right now."

To your absolute dismay he reaches up and removes your arms from him, taking a step back so neither of you are touching. His eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide and that red blush of heat now spread all over his neck and cheekbones.

"I can't," he says, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I can't."

You're about to protest, whine and beg if you have to, but his eyes fall to your groin. You watch with wide eyes as he goes for his belt, begins to unloop it and remove it.

"Take your pants off," he groans, and you don't need telling twice.

You end up masturbating together again, this time in the light of day. You find yourselves laying on the couch where he'd slept last night, the memory of what he'd done there fresh in your mind as you pump two fingers in and out of yourself steadily and watch him stroke his cock to match your pace. He watches you behind hooded eyes, his lips parted as he pants and gets himself off to your pleasure, watches you do the same thing to him.

"That's it," he murmurs, eyes scrunching in arousal as he scans your face, watches you come undone, "Rub your clit, nice and fast."

You whimper, unable to hold on for much longer as you eye his cock and see the way the fat head of it drips for you, slicking his hand and allowing him to stroke faster and faster. You want to say something to help get him off too but your words are completely lost in the sensation; you couldn't speak even if you wanted to.

He knows you're about to come, can see it in your face the way he saw it in the face of the model in the picture. He swallows heavily and fucks himself impossibly faster, harder, silently asking you to match his pace. You do it, thumbing your clit and feeling the tense coil in your belly snap as your jaw drops and you let out a long and ridiculously loud moan. Your eyes shut tight and you throw your head back, feeling your body begin to shake from the stimulation.

"There you go," he grunts, and you hear the slapping of skin stop as he rides out his own release, coming into his fist, "Fuck." Your eyes open at just the right time to see his jaw go slack, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head from the pleasure. It somehow makes you ache for more, even though you can't possibly imagine being any more overstimulated than you already are.

You both lay there, chests heaving, hearts pounding, completely undone. It goes without saying that you've both just managed to each have one of the best orgasms of your lives.

"New patrol rule," you whisper to him, legs still wide and cunt dripping with your release, "We do this. Every time. Please."

"Yes," he replies immediately, still catching his breath, "I can do that."

"It can't be any more than this," Joel says to you quietly as you hike down the mountain a little while later, the sunrise cresting the trees again the way it had yesterday when you'd hiked up; it's like nothing has changed, but you both know that everything has.

"Okay," you say just as softly, though part of you aches to reach for his hand, loop your pinky through his and have some degree of touch between you. But you can tell he means business, that there won't be any more discussion on the matter today.

"Just this," he whispers, glancing at you with a meaningful look, eyes soft and tender as he peers at you, knowing what he's done, what he's started.

"Just this," you agree, but you don't really believe it.

You hope, deep down, neither does he.

thank you so much for reading! there will be more in this collection coming very soon. i'd like to do some short fics of certain nights they've had, especially the first time he calls her a good girl. that was originally going to be in this part but it was just getting wayyy too long and i have so many ideas i need to flesh out more lol. i'm also going to continue where they left off in "don't think we could help it", and yes, eventually they will do the deed, i promise. among other things....

if you liked it, please let me know! and again, if you'd like to give me a tip you can do so on my kofi 💖

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*#fic: soft!dom joel

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theemporium · 7 months

Note

Hiii!!! This is my first request but I love your writing so I know you won’t lead me astray!! Im thinking about 💰 with sugar daddies Charlos who maybe find out reader has needed something really badly (maybe something like school textbooks or the like) and instead of asking them, she has been saving up and stressing about it or even looking for grants/scholarships and they find out and are like ☹️ “why didn’t you tell us???” And it’s just really fluffy and sweet!!

(ALSO,,, pleaseee when the proper time comes and if you want to, write the werewolf!lestappen request!! It sounds so good!!)

Thank you loads xx

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

You were going to turn yourself grey with the stress this paper was giving you.

The whole class had been taking over your life in the worst way possible. It had a low pass rate, the paper was worth a majority of your grade and the professor that already seemed like a dick seemed to have it out for you—or at least that's what it felt like with all the feedback you received from her.

It was overwhelming and frustrating and it seemed like no matter how hard you tried, it wasn’t getting any easier.

Your tipping point had been when the professor announced a massive essentials reading list that you had to complete before you started the paper, along with the announcement that she expected to see each one in the reference. The kicker? None of the papers or textbooks were available in the library or free online. It seemed like you had to pay for it.

And if being a student with crippling debt wasn’t enough, the price of academic textbooks could have sent you to an early grave.

You had resorted to picking up a job with crappy shifts at a bar on campus. The hours were horrible, the manager was an asshole and the customers were anything but polite (mostly consisting of cocky frat boys and trust fund babies who flaunted money like it was enough to look past fake IDs). Between the hours you were pulling and the hours spent studying in the library, you barely had time to sleep—let alone keep a thriving social life.

You hadn’t even realised you had been ignoring Charles and Carlos’ messages until you opened the door to your flat and found them waiting inside.

“Oh.” Your eyes widened, a feeling of dread washing over you. “Did I forget something? Is there a gala tonight?”

Carlos frowned, a hint of concern in his eyes. “You weren’t answering our messages.”

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, your cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment. “I didn’t take my charger to the library and then it died during my shift—”

“Your shift?” Charles repeated, his brain wracking around to figure out if he was misinterpreting your words. “What shift?”

You fell quiet, realising you had slipped up.

Carlos stepped forward, his fingers pushing your chin up when you tried to look away. “He asked you a question, amor.”

“It was just a few shifts at the campus bar,” you murmured with a sheepish expression on your face. “It was no big deal. It was just so I could buy–”

“If you needed to buy something, you tell us,” Charles said, almost looking like a kicked puppy when he spoke. “That was our deal, cherie.”

“Yeah but,” you started but even you weren’t sure where it was going. “I thought that was for gifts and stuff…like materialistic things.”

“Whatever you need, we want to provide,” Carlos corrected you, his large hands cupping your face whilst you stared up at him with wide eyes. “Whether it’s textbooks or vacations or a car.”

“Please don’t buy me a car,” you murmured.

Charles snorted. “We won’t, but we can. If you need it, we will.”

“I just feel bad asking,” you admitted shyly. “It’s different when you give me things compared to when I ask.”

“Well, get used to it because I don’t want a repeat of this,” Carlos said with a frown as his eyes glanced over your face. “You look exhausted.”

“It’s been a very stressful few weeks,” you told the boys and you watched Charles’ frown deepen a little.

“Then let us help you destress,” Charles said before nodding towards your bedroom. “Go get changed. We are taking you out.”

“Charles—” You started but he cut you off.

“You’re ours to take care of, physically and financially,” Charles said, taking one of your hands in his as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “We will call your job and tell them you’re quitting.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please don’t say anything stupid or dramatic.”

Charles grinned. “Me? Never, cherie.”

“I’ll make sure he behaves,” Carlos told you with a smile. “Now go get ready, amor. Let us take care of our pretty girl.”

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lurkingshan · 5 days

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10 Things I Love About Triage

I am extraordinarily late to this party but I am here to scream about Triage, a show which I started on a whim after a stray comment from @incandescentflower and subsequently finished in two sittings. This drama has been on my list forever (I didn't watch it live because the distribution was wacky) and then it just kept getting overlooked as I fought to keep up with the deluge of Thai BL coming at us at all times. But I am very glad I finally hunted it down and made the time and I would like to tell you why!

Hello Again, Dr. Sammon

I am on record as a Sammon fan. She is one of the best writers working in Thai BL and she has a knack for mystery and suspense. Her narratives are always really well constructed with tight plotting and smart character work, and Triage is no exception. This story feels confident, steady, and complete in a way few Thai BLs do.

The time travel rules are blessedly consistent

Part of what makes the story sing is it's a time travel plot that actually gets the particulars right. In a time loop, the details are everything, and this show understands that. The series of events are consistent, the rules of the time travel mechanics are clearly explained, and when our protagonists learn something new, it always lines up with something we'd gotten hints about before or gives us new context for old information. There are no loose threads in this show.

My boy Tin is going through it

Tin is a fantastic protagonist. He starts the show disillusioned with his work and hilariously grumpy about this time loop situation--he is a busy ER doctor and he does not have time for this--but as he starts to piece together how the loop works he gets more methodical in his approach, and eventually becomes emotionally invested in his mission to save Tol. Tin felt really well-calibrated in that he was smart and he tried all the things you would be shouting at the screen for him to try, but he's still a human being with flaws and insecurities and so he makes mistakes, learns, and has to try again. The show really successfully put us in the frustration with him.

Tol makes for an interesting damsel

Because he's kind of an asshole! Tol is rude and disrespectful when he first meets Tin, he hangs around with some truly awful bullies, he treats Rit like garbage, and he's all around an arrogant dick. Until he isn't. I like the choice to make the focus of our mission such a difficult character, not only because it makes Tin's challenge that much harder, but also because it invites us to consider the reasons why someone might be behaving the way he is and whether they can be redeemed.

This show has everything: action, romance, and agony

It's truly an emotional rollercoaster all the way through, and you can't relax for a moment. The pacing is relentless through most of the show, and even as a bond develops between Tin and Tol and they begin a tentative romance, danger is lurking around every corner. As soon as these boys started making out in episode 9 I knew something awful was coming for me and IT SURE DID.

Jinta, the ultimate frenemy

On that note let's talk about Jinta, my nemesis!! Jinta is some kind of unspecified deity/whimsical god and the one who appears to be responsible for putting Tin and Tol in this loop. Is he trying to help them? Is he trying to torture them? I definitely think it's both! He seems to delight in showing up to taunt Tin as he struggles to figure out how to get through to Tol, and when it's Tol's turn on the merry-go-round he sends him to the darkest timeline for his high stakes final attempt to save Tin just because he can. I love/hate you, sir!

Sing and Gap and the darkest timeline

Speaking of which, can we talk about how appropriate it is that Sing and Gap are a couple only in the darkest timeline? I don't know if people were shipping this for real during the live watch, but I definitely was not and so I started cackling when we got to the worst possible timeline and Sing was suddenly calling Gap his boyfriend. Sammon, you are hilarious and I salute you.

Fantastic side characters

Let's talk about the sides I did love. First of all, aside from his weird aggressive flirting/not flirting thing with Gap, I actually did like Sing's friendship with Tin a lot. I also loved the hospital gang who were around to alternately tease and help Tin, most especially Toy and Fang. Toy is a sweetheart and a gossip who never misses a trick, and Fang is an actual badass who first cracked the case with that evil doctor and saved Tin's life. They are fabulous. Rit was also an excellent character with a lot of complexity and he added some much needed depth to the school storyline (does anyone else think he was basically the proto-DFF Non?). And while Mai and Heart were not my favorite people, I did appreciate that the show gave them a sympathetic portrayal instead of making them evil villains (we had the organ harvesters for that).

That beautiful clocktower

I must give a shoutout to this gorgeous clocktower featured in several important scenes. I got so excited every time it showed up. Fun fact: in the first clocktower scene I was like oh hey I recognize that from gifs, but it can't be that scene because it's too early for a kis--TIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING! (I was right, it was too early for a kiss and Tol was Big Mad but bless you for going for it anyway, Tin).

The romance is balanced and rootable

And on that note, let me give a shoutout to the romance part of this story for actually feeling balanced. This is not an epic swoony love affair, but more a story of two people putting in the time to understand and empathize with each other. Sometimes in these kind of time loop stories the romance can end up feeling very one-sided because one character is holding all the knowledge and all the cards. But in this show we have the neat trick of Tol taking over the loop to try to save Tin in the final arc, which means he got to go through a similar process of getting to know the darkest version of his lover and figuring out how to get through to him. I was delighted by all the events of the long loop playing out again, but this time with Tin being the obstinate one. Tol got a taste of his own medicine and it left me feeling like they were both equally invested in this relationship.

TL;DR: If you haven't watched this yet, you really should! It's a fast binge and a great time with some Thai BL favorites. It's unfortunately still not available for international streaming, but it's very easy to find grey now and it's worth the effort. Go forth!

#triage #triage the series #thai bl #shan recommends #10 things #shan shouts into the void

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he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle · 1 month

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Unknown - Ep 11 - That Scene

The opening scene of episode 11 landed differently for me than it did for others. I was going to just keep it to myself since I have a minority opinion, but when I rewatched it last night I fell even more in love with it!

The structure!! It's so good! Let me explain.

At the bottom of the stairs, Qian hesitates. He still hasn't made up his mind.

Yuan says "Do you still not get it?" He knows what Qian is feeling, even if Qian hasn't figured it out yet. So he says what he wants very clearly.

Yuan asks for permission to do 4 things:

1. Be more than just Qian's brother.

2. Be who Qian relies on when he's down.

3. Be someone Qian can talk to about anything.

4. Be with Qian for the rest of his life.

Before Qian answers, he revisits 4 sets of memories, each set answering one of Yuan's questions with a resounding YES.

After each affirmative answer, it cuts back to the sex scene to communicate that THIS is the culmination of all those yesses.

In other words, there are 4 direct questions and 4 groups of memories that hold the answers to those questions, 4 times those memories scream the answer is YES, and 4 cuts to a bit of sex.

Let's look at the groups of memories.

1. He thinks back to Yuan's words in ep 9. Does he not want Yuan? Or does he not DARE to want Yuan? And he remembers all the times he felt desire for Yuan, but suppressed it. Can he be more than just Yuan's brother? Yes.

2. He thinks back to Yuan consistently being someone Qian can rely on, all through his childhood until now. "If the world falls down, we'll hold it up together." "You won't be alone." "I like being around you." Yuan genuinely likes being around Qian and has never wanted to leave him. He's shown his commitment to Qian time and time again. Can Qian rely on Yuan when he's down? Yes.

3. He remembers how long and hard Yuan suffered while enduring one-sided love, and that Yuan chose to suffer in quiet for years rather than confess to Qian about it. But Qian knew Yuan was suffering that whole time and hated it. It broke Qian's heart to see how hard it was for Yuan. If he did likewise and didn't talk about things, he'd also break the heart of the person who loves him because of his silence. Yuan laid himself bare and told Qian everything. Can Qian reciprocate and tell Yuan about everything in his life, even the hard things? Yes.

4. He thinks about how Yuan has ALREADY built his entire life around Qian. "I can sum up my life in two words: Wei Qian." Memories of Yuan come like a flood, rapidly gaining momentum. Yuan has already been with Qian for most of his life, and will NOT STOP. Qian can't imagine a life without Yuan. So can Yuan be with Qian for the rest of his life? Yes.

Qian nods and says his answer aloud: You can. And then they kiss.

The sex is not the point. It's the culmination. It's all the yesses stacked on top each other until they break the last of Qian's walls. By cutting the sex so it only exists between each resounding YES, they've made it less about the action of it and more about Qian realizing that YES, they're ALREADY in love and unalterably committed to each other. Why not give in to his physical desires when the rest is so clear?

Others watched this and saw a sex scene interrupted by cumbersome flashbacks. I watched this and saw a dramatic feelings realization interrupted by snippets of quite lovely sex that drove those feelings home.

A final note: It's probably because I'm demisexual, but I am frequently unmoved by sex scenes, especially when they do not advance the plot or the character development. This onscreen scene moved me. It hit the right emotional note. It was focused primarily on Qian's pov (his face is the one the camera is focusing on). And it was artfully done, instead of merely being titillating.

I'm tagging a few people who I recall talking about this in their posts, but it's been a couple of weeks so forgive me if I leave someone out or misremember. @absolutebl @lurkingshan @bengiyo @wen-kexing-apologist @wanderlust-in-my-soul @twig-tea

#unknown #unknown the series #asian gay dramas #taiwanese bl

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apocalypse-shuffle · 2 years

Text

JASON TODD & DAMIAN WAYNE (generalized fanon | maybe wfa)

────────────────────

“Reaction Time” (Jason Todd x Fem!Reader) and (Damian Wayne & Platonic!Reader)

| Reader is introduced to the first of her new boyfriend’s extended family.

| SFW, breaking in, Damian Logic™ -frazzled!reader

| pic sources: beg.=rebirth rhato, middle=batman & robin#12, and end=rebirth teen titans • all comics

| part of the meet the bats series

| 1k+ words

It’s the small hours of the morning still, you can tell by the heat of Jason’s body pressed along your side. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, the comforter hasn’t fallen off your body at any point, you're not too hot, and when you listen over the sound of your own breathing you don’t hear anything off.

Your soft breaths sound normal, nothing concerning there. You hold your breath so you can hear better. You want to go back to sleep but you have to get rid of the nagging ✨wrongness✨ that had you awake in the first place.

You find Jason’s breathing fine, luckily calm, and when you focus harder you can make out the tiny murmurs - Jason consistently had nightmares, whether they woke him or you up or not - and the more pronounced huffs of breath that were a product of wherever the Sandman had taken him. There was something off about it though, like it was louder.

Your nose scrunches and you finally open your eyes, sliding blurry sleep crusted orbs to watch your boyfriend you piece it together. His breaths weren’t louder; they were overlapping. Or-

You blink your eyes open wider, watching his chest rise up and down. Both sets of breaths weren’t matching. Your world stutters.

The breaths were coming from opposite directions too.

It’s as your head’s whipping around that you feel the barely there scrape across your neck and the flash of metal in the corner of your eye. Your body freezes, breaths quickening in your chest just as Jason jumps up and your eyes lock on a small shadowy figure.

“If I was you I wouldn’t move another inch,” Jason warns.

You whimper, barely registering the safety of a gun clicking off and Jason's arm raised over you.

Then you scream.

A small voice talks right over you.

“Tt, this is who you want to be your girlfriend? She has terrible response time.”

“Damian?”

Jason’s exclamation makes you gasp.

“You know him?”

Jason glances at you when you talk through your screaming, face creasing in worry, before he groans and clicks back on the safety of the gun. Putting it back underneath his pillow and then easing the blade away from your neck.

“Baby, breath, okay? I’m gonna deal with him,” he nods at the shadow who sounds like a fucking baby - what the fuck? “And you're gonna be fine. Sheath this shit Damian or so help me god,” he grounds out.

You’ve stopped screaming but your chest is heaving as you watch the kid move and put away the sword. That’s a suspicious amount of stop light colors.

“Is that Robin?”

Another scoff from Robin. There’s a superhero in your apartment, why in the world?

“Y/n baby-”

Jason’s voice is only the tiniest bit hysteric, which is utterly inappropriate because you are buzzing out of your skin right now. You scramble up when Jason tries to keep you down, squeezing as close to the other side of the bed as you can with him in the way.

“Why are you so calm? What the fuck is Batman’s sidekick doing in my apartment, Jason?”

“Leaving,” he shoos the boy harshly. “He was fucking leaving.”

Robin shrugs and you find yourself laughing lightly.

“Oh my god….”

What if you were naked? You could’ve so easily been naked right now.

“Oh my god…”

Robin waves towards you with a scowl.

“She is an insufficient choice for a partner.”

“What the- get out! I’ll deal with you in a minute.”

“You are also losing your touch, Todd, you should have sensed me seconds before my weapon got that close-”

Jason grits his teeth and whips around to point at the door.

“I’m not losing shit. Now, go. The fuck. Outside.”

Robin purses his lips, domino creasing in what you can only guess is a glare, before marching out. You stare wide eyed after his back, eyes drawn specifically to the hilt of his sword.

“Jason…”

“I am so sorry. Is your neck okay?”

All you can do is nod.

He moves so he’s in front of you, blocking your view of the door and the tiny vigilante behind it. His hands hover awkwardly over your body while he speaks in hushed tones.

“That’s good at least.” He huffs, “I told them to give me space because you weren’t ready, I did. I promise.”

“Mhm,” you nod then drop your head in your hands. “Jason?”

“Yes baby?”

“I’m about to cry.”

He sucks in a breath.

“Okay, alright okay, just hold on. I-” he jumps out of the bed. “I’m gonna draw you a bath and get you some tea and send my little brother home, alright?”

“Yeah okay,” you mumble. Bless him but your boyfriend never knew what the hell to do with blatant emotions.

Or, scratch that, he knew what to do and could talk it out just fine when they were your feelings. He also just overcompensated for the teary stuff.

You take in a deep breath, rubbing at your temples.

This time when Jason reaches for you he touches. Warm hands grab your own and bring them down to his lap, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

“It’s fine. You’re fine. I’ll handle it.”

“Yeah,” you breath, blinking wet eyes at him. “I trust you.”

He blinks, “You trust me?”

His brows move up and his head tilts, and it’s all very endearing but-

“I know, okay, but not right now. Let’s shelve that for when I’m more awake and your kid brother who’s Robin isn’t in my living room.”

“Agreed,” he licks his lips. “We’ll talk about everything tomorrow.”

“Amazing,” you lean in and the two of you share a brief kiss. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom.”

“You deserve it, get in there.”

You laugh faintly, pulling your sleep shirt over your head and grabbing a shower cap to switch out your bonnet with.

“Passion flower tea?”

You give him a thumbs up and a ‘yes please’ before disappearing behind the bathroom door. You miss the way Jason smiles at your retreating form.

The last thing you hear before you slip into the rising warm water and flowery scented bath salts is a litany of soft curses before Jason forces himself to go have that conversation with his brother.

- - -

“So how’d it go?”

You lean against your closet door, new set of pajamas on.

“He’s embarrassed but he’ll live,” Jason heaves a sigh, hands running down his face. “I’m sorry again.”

You shrug, “It’s fine. Not like you planned it. Now, are you okay?”

“No, yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

You walk up and wrap your hands around his wrists, he gives in to your request and lets you pull his hands away. You bring them down to his sides and run your palms up his arms, rubbing out some of the tension, before cradling the sides of his face.

He cracks his neck before looking at you and you give him a little smile.

“It’s cool, I’m not going anywhere.”

“If you say so,” he hums, hands coming up to rub at your forearms. He turns to press a kiss into your palm.

“I do say so. You told me your family was weird Jason.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t regular people weird and I can’t even promise he won’t do it again. Or that one of the others won’t just show up one day too.”

“Uh huh,” you shrug and move in so you can peck him on the lips. “I’ll just have to get used to your brand of weirdness then. No big deal.”

He scoffs, “‘No big deal’ she says. Just wait.”

You laugh much less tinged with panic this time.

“I will, because I want to be a part of your life.”

His eyes crinkle.

“Yeah yeah,” he murmurs before kissing you longer this time. When you pull away he’s smiling. “I love you too.”

He clams up, casts this guarded look at you, and you shake your head.

“Oh my god, Jason. I also love you. Can we go back to bed now?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Sounds good.”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!

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respectthepetty · 6 months

Text

Pit Babe Colors Ep. 7

I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here.

If I see this necklace on Charles later, *dragging finger across throat*

There is a barrier between y'all, so I'm hoping one of you has decided to come to your senses and tell the truth to Alan and Babe. Jeffrey is seeing accidents, so Jeffrey, hopefully you are seeing the light of truth too and will confess to Alan!

I like you, Way. I like you too much knowing damn well that you are lying, but you don't seem as red as before. It looks a little hot pink-ish now. Maybe because you're sad that Babe doesn't love you.

Get hit with the blinding light of love for this Blue Boy sitting next to you who has apparently been in love with you for years according to that pink from the last episode.

Peter, I TRUST YOU! Don't do me like this! This is pink, right? RIGHT? It's pink. You're in love with Waymond, and this is pink, not red. Pink.

I'm ignoring the Gucci red watchband because the way Peter is looking at Waymond and the fact that he put blue on Waymond is all I need to know that Peter sits at the same table with Kimberly, Kenta, and Alan as the people I trust.

How long have you been in love with him, Pete? The pink already snitched on you. Just tell me! Or did you leave it on the note? That'd be too easy. But that note better have said "Hey, I just 'met' you, and this is crazy, but here's my number, so call me maybe?" I ship it!

Kimberly! You've been a lot less red lately. The blues are gonna need a driver soon if Jeffrey's vision is right. You should apply!

KENTA IS RIGHT THERE, KIMBERLY! Lose focus and have a consensual workplace relationship.

Wait a minute? It's Decanus and . . . there's only one man who consistently wears black, but I refuse to believe that he would meet with Decanus. No. That's another man in black. I cannot see the faces clearly, so I will not accuse *sobs* Kenta.

These two are best friends. I can tell.

AHHHH! Charles is meeting with Big Red, yet he is wearing blue! Is he being kidnapped? No. He just walked away. But now he is surrounded by blue. Charles!!!!! I know you are lying, but the blue is saying . . . something! But Big Red is listening.

Oh thank, God! Way is turning over a new leaf and committing to being a blue boy. Good.

No. NO! Barbara, I know you are upset at Charles for lying (which your super spidey senses should have alerted you about because the red was there), but why do you keep doing this to Way? He was committed to the blue! Pete likes him. Stop!

NO, WAYMOND, NO! JUST LET BABE BE SAD AND MISERABLE. DON'T DO IT!

Tell him to get his hands off of you, Barbie! That's how they keep getting you! Do not fall for his bullshit!

Is this story about Charlie?! OH SHIT! *telenovela fall to the floor*

I don't want you to get slapped, Kentana, but there is only one man who wears black consistently, and that's you. You ARE planning something with Decanus, aren't you?! Do. Not. Hurt. Barbie. I trust you!

Oh shit! Barbie is realizing it's the touches! I tried to warn you, homie. I did. I said, "Barbie, don't let them touch you!" Now, figure out that Waymond keeps touching you too. Don't get dickmatized again. I need you to stay focused! BARBIE, FOCUS! Waymond. Superpowers. Punch them!

Barbara, the dick is not that good for you to forgive him already! Barbara, I'm so mad at you right now. I'm only rooting for Kimberly and Alan now. You and Kentana are on my shit list.

Did the note from Peter ask for a date?! Waymond, horrible choice of red roses with a red ribbon for a date with Peter or . . . is this your villain era? No! This is a date with Peter! *dances happily*

I mean this from the depth of my soul - Whatever happens now, you're on your own, Barbara. You figured out what Charles was doing to you, and you are just cool with it? I know he, too, had a crappy childhood, but he did all that without your consent, and you're okay with it? The red is still there! He just took from you something you can't get back, without your consent. This is metaphorical, and I wish you, a fictional character, could see that.

Did Peter really not show up for y'alls date?! Did something happen to Pete?! WHERE IS HE?! Did Big Red kidnap him?! Wait, Peter can text but not show up for a date? I don't believe it.

I'm gonna break my own rule, and translate the text messages because I have no colors to guide me, and I'm very confused why Peter would not show up when he has been in love with Waymond for awhile. The colors don't lie. Peter would show up!

Google Translate: "Sorry, I just finished clearing things up with Charlie" Wait a minute. Charlie? Was Waymond texting Babe because he was sad Peter didn't show up for dinner? This still doesn't make sense.

Or . . . Waymond's at his and Babe's restaurant, and Babe said "sorry." It wasn't a date with Peter was it? This was a date with . . . oh, you have to be shitting me. PETER IS RIGHT THERE IN LOVE WITH YOU, PENDEJO!

I'm in no mood for North and Sonic's color shenanigans. I'm too pissed off to even yell at Sonic for wearing red over the blue. Whatever. Be a back-stabber too. No me importa.

WHAT THE FUCK?! NOT KIMBERLY!

If anything happens to Kimberly, I'm burning down this whole site! He's a good one! Kentana, you better get your shit together and save your man! If Kentana and Barbara save Kimberly, I'll take them off my shit list. Even Charles will get some leeway.

Whiny Winifred, why are you pointing a gun at . . . SONIC AND NORTH?! I know I wrote I didn't care about y'all earlier, but I do! Y'all can't die until I figure out what the deal is with y'alls colors!

Barbara is wearing the same outfit in the previews that he is wearing when he punches people in the hallway!

Mission: Save Kim Possible!

#Kimberly better be alive #pit babe #pit babe the series #the colors mean things #and they will guide me the whole way through #color coded boys in love #episode 7 #I'm so upset #I'm upset for Way #I'm upset AT Way #I'm livid AT Babe #but all I care about right now is Kimberly!#SAVE HIM!

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moonflvver · 5 months

Text

Starlight

character: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

warnings: angst (with fluff)

a/n: This is probably one of my favorite pieces about Bakugou that I've written. Also, I'm clearing out my drafts so expect an influx of posts over the next few days. And I'm getting back into mha so trust that there will be lots of Katsuki content in the future lol.

w/c: 1297

He was running his fingers through his hair as his jaw clenched. “What the fuck do you want from me then? What do you want? Because I just can’t figure it out. No matter what I do for you it’s never enough.”

You sighed, you were getting tired of having the same argument with him over and over again. And now of course he was turning this on you. Of course Bakugou Katsuki just couldn’t fucking admit that he was in the wrong for once.

“What I want is for you to care about yourself Katsuki. I want you to stop overexerting yourself and coming home with an injury every other night. I want to trust that you’ll be safe when you’re out there.” You were trying your hardest not to let him hear your voice shake but it cracked mid-sentence nonetheless.

It was just too much. God you loved him, of course you did. But he was too stubborn for his own good and he refused to stop pushing himself to the very edge of his limits. But that’s the thing about Bakugou, he’s a star. I mean it sounds silly to say but it’s true.

He’s not just good at what he does, he’s great. But there’s something in him that refuses to let him enjoy what he has at any given moment and that’s the problem. They say that the stars that shine the brightest burn out the fastest and you know Katsuki better than anyone, so it’s clear to you that he’s just one mission away from crashing and burning. Which is why you can’t stop. If he won’t care for himself then you have to do it for him.

“You don’t get it do you? I can’t just stop doing my job. People need me, people depend on me. I keep this city safe. I won’t drop it all just for you.” He shouted back.

“Just for me, are you serious? Do I really mean that little to you, that you’d choose your own self destructive tendencies over me?” You’re crying now, tears are running down your face as you look at him. “I need you too, Katsuki.” You mumble, looking up at him.

Fuck. He looks exhausted and you’re sure that you don’t look any better, especially not after all of the crying you’ve been doing. But it’s clear that the long hours he’s been working have taken a serious toll on him and it makes you sob just a bit harder.

His head is in his hands now as he says, “Shit y/n I didn’t mean that. I just-” But before he can finish you stop him.

“I can’t watch you implode like this, I can’t stand by while you do this to yourself. I was so stupid to think that you’d actually change. But it doesn’t matter. You’re still that same impulsive, stubborn little kid that you were in highschool.” He knows you don’t mean it, he can tell by the fatigue that’s evident in your voice. You’re done. You’re clearly just grasping for straws at this point. There’s no fight left in you anymore and it’s all his fault. Fuck, of course he ended up pushing away the one person who’s remained consistently by his side.

The person who makes him lunch, who reminds him to take care of himself. Who always texts him on patrol asking him how he is no matter how late it is. He can’t let you leave, he just can’t. He wants to scream, he wants to fucking cry, he wants to let himself crash and burn and he doesn’t want you picking up the pieces. He just wants to be left alone but there’s a part of him that needs you more than the air that he breathes. And that part of him just can’t allow you to go.

He’s taken you for granted, he knows that. He knew that his rise to the top would put a strain on your relationship but he had convinced himself that he would be able to figure it out. I mean of course he would, Bakugo Katsuki can do anything. Right? Anything except for preventing himself from getting completely and utterly blindsided by his own goals apparently.

You’re grabbing your keys to walk out and take a breather but then he stands up, abruptly grabbing your arm.

You look up at him in mild shock. “Bakugou what are you-”

“Don’t go.” He says, and it comes out as a quiet whisper. “Please don’t go, I’m sorry. Okay? I am so fucking sorry, just please don’t leave.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so desperate.

He looks down, lets your wrist drop. And now he’s just waiting for you to say anything, anything at all. You sigh, dropping your keys back down onto the table. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He echoes back as his head comes up and you see that his eyes are full of tears.

You step forward taking him into your arms and he buries himself into your chest as you stroke his back. You inhale that familiar caramel scent that always seems to linger around him, a scent that reminds you of home, a scent that never fails to make you melt into his arms. He makes you feel so at home whenever you’re near him, you just want to hold onto him forever. You open your mouth and just as you’re about to say something to him he pulls away, pausing for a moment.

“I know.” He says quietly. “I know that it’s been hard for you. It’s just that no matter what I do, no matter how much I achieve it’s just that. Fuck. It’s never enough.” There are tears falling from his eyes. His long lashes are coated in the salty drops of water that won’t stop cascading down his face as he continues, “I get into this insane mindset that I could just be doing everything better, that I could be stronger, that I need to try harder. And I end up pushing you away. I end up hurting you and it’s not fair to you and I’m just really tired.” His voice cracks as he finishes and all you want right now is to take away everything that’s weighing on him and put the burden on yourself.

Really that’s all you’ve ever wanted, just to make him hurt a little less. Because seeing him like this makes your heart ache. How could he ever think that he was anything less than good enough? Katsuki Bakugou is a star. And sometimes his light is blinding and it overwhelms you. But he’s also capable of illuminating everyone and everything around him. And he needs to know how important he is.

You close the distance between the two of you and you swipe your thumb under his eyes hoping to clear away his tears. Your hand lingers for a moment and then you cup his face. “You are good enough. I get that it’s hard, I know how much pressure you put on yourself. But I need you to know that I see it. Even if no one else does. I see how much of yourself you’re putting into your job, I see how deeply you care.”

He’s staring at you, practically dumbfounded. But then his eyes soften, “Thank you. Thank you for seeing me.” It comes out almost as a sigh, like he’s finally able to let go of the air that his lungs have been holding in for the past half-hour. His shoulders relax and your hands find their way into his hair as you bring him into your chest once again, mumbling into his hair. “How could I not see you? You’re too bright to ignore.”

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugou x y/n #mha #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo angst #boku no hero academia

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querulousmegapode · 1 month

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Hello. Please, tell me what do you think about Angua. I'm personally struggling to like her after her words to Carrot, something about "why you are so supportive!?", when he didn't start a fuss about her being the werewolf.

It would be nice to see another point of view for the character. I hope it helps me to understand her better.

Thank you

Hi!! Firstly thank you so much for this ask! It’s a really fun one and I’ve been thinking over how best to answer it and figuring out what exactly I like about Angua so much, so I appreciate it a lot!

There are a few different reasons why I like her. Some of them are pretty superficial, so I think I’ll get those out of the way first.

In general I just think that she’s pretty cool! From a purely superficial standpoint she’s pretty and gets to be badass and a werewolf and that’s just kind of fun. The whole circumstances around people finding out she’s a werewolf are also just pretty funny to me.

I also really like her in terms of the way that she’s written.

I really like how Pterry writes women in general because he manages to write them in a way that doesn’t feel like it’s fitting into stereotypes about women? They’re all real people with nuances and I feel like Angua is a good example of that. Yes, she does get to be badass, but also she’s a person and has a lot going on internally. She’s got a constant struggle with trying to fit in around people and trying to be human which is something that I haven’t often seen around werewolf characters and I think Pterry explores it well.

Werewolves in media seem to go in a couple of pretty predictable ways. You get the general horror of someone turning into a werewolf and then it either seems to go in the direction of oh no the werewolf is a monster!1!1! Or oh, the werewolf has a pack and learns to live that way. For me Angua is interesting because Pterry goes okay, but what if a werewolf doesn’t have a pack?? Angua is pretty much estranged from her family; she doesn’t have anyone to help her with the experience and is generally met with fear and hostility when people find out that she’s a werewolf. She has to deal with a LOT, even people who mean well and actively like her (Cheery) inadvertently hurt her with comments about werewolves and that’s someone who doesn’t know she’s a werewolf!! I can’t imagine that other Ankh Morpork citizens are somehow kinder or more understanding. And in amongst that you get to see the inner conflict that Angua has. She comes to this environment and she doesn’t just magically adjust - she struggles with trying to maintain control when she turns and she struggles with maintaining humanity and seeming human, because that’s what people around her will accept.

I think that, for the most part, is why I can understand the way she reacts to Carrot, as it’s pretty unusual for someone to be completely supportive. I’m segueing slightly, but I do really like how her relationship with Carrot develops because it’s nice that she has someone there who accepts her without question. Carrot is just *nice*, with no ulterior motives or strings attached and that’s something she doesn’t seem to encounter too often.

The other main reason that I like Angua is how comedic her perspective is. She’s quite a funny character and consistently plays the straight man to the rest of the watch’s insanity and that’s really fun.

Her internal monologue is great for this because despite being a werewolf she’s somehow the most normal person in the watch.

I love those watch guys but Dear God none of them are normal about their job. I love Vimes’ POV very much and he’s one of my all time favourite characters, but sometimes it feels nice to just take a step back and view the watch through the eyes of someone who isn’t used to it. Angua is pretty great for this.

I also quite like seeing her go from incredulous to understanding about Carrot - she’s quite perceptive and figures out pretty quickly that he’s deceptively simple. She can also be quite dry in terms of humour, which I personally really like.

Overall I just think that she’s pretty neat! I hope that this has been helpful!

Ultimately though, if you still don’t really like her then that’s fine too!! Discworld is full of wonderful characters and the best part is that there’s no right answers about which ones resonate, even if one is particularly popular or well liked.

#discworld #gnu terry pratchett #angua von uberwald #carrot ironfoundersson #samuel vimes #asks #thanks once again for this ask!!!#I had a lot of fun thinking this through #rambles

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savethevamps · 8 months

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Topmew & Subtle Conversations

My favorite scene of Topmew during episode eleven would have to be their bed scene in which they finally talk. However, I wanted to highlight another scene that really stood out to me and subtly shows the cracks they had in their relationship.

So when the scene starts, Top is here alone washing the dishes before Mew enters. Once Mew comes, he tries to take over and even tells Top to leave before Top finally tells him “it’s not a lot, I can handle it.”

This may seem like nothing but in my opinion, they’re speaking about more than just the dishes here. This is showing Mew trying to take control and extend an olive branch. Looking at their relationship at this point, Top has been doing all the work to repair it and Mew has been standing aside. Top says to Mew, “look I can handle this, it’s fine!” Him pretending like he can handle everything is him once again punishing himself and taking all of Mew’s anger in an attempt to fix it or “clean” alone. Mew wants to take over and allow Top a moment, but Top cannot let Mew do that since he feels he has this punishment coming. In other words, Top is the one who got the dishes dirty so he thinks he should be the one to clean them.

We then see them start to struggle over the plate. When I saw this I immediately thought, “they’re fighting for control right now.” Not control as in control over each other, but control over the situation at hand. They both want to take over and take responsibility of fixing the relationship and sorting it out. Top wants to do it alone because he feels he made the mess, and Mew wants to take over to show Top that he’s trying his best.

This push and pull that they find themselves in isn’t good for either of them. Top has been consistently punishing himself for his mistakes, while simultaneously allowing Mew to punish him as well. Mew wants to shoulder the responsibility of saying when and how the relationship starts, but he cannot let go of what happened. Neither of them wants to allow the other to take on that responsibility for their own reasons, but what they need to know is that one person doesn’t need to take it all on their own. The more they struggle and pull against each other, the harder it is to hold a solid grip onto their relationship; leading to it all falling apart.

Now, I look at Top bringing up trust right here a little differently. Top is asking why he doesn’t trust him not just because of how their relationship ended, but also because he believes Mew isn’t trusting him to be responsible for fixing everything. He’s essentially saying, “I’m trying here, why don’t you trust me to make it right?” He knows Mew is still cautious around him, but he’s now asking Mew why he won’t even trust him to clean the mess he’s made.

We get more push and pull with Top saying he’ll buy new ones and Mew saying it’s okay he can do it. Again, they’re both trying to take it all on by themselves no matter the cost (see what I did). My favorite part of this entire interaction is the awkward silence that follows. Neither of them knows what to say, they can barely look at each other at this moment. This little argument has turned into something else and they both know it, but they’re also trying their best to be okay for the sake of their relationship.

I can get into the nitty gritty of the altercation where they discuss the actual problem at hand, but I really wanted to highlight these moments. They are both grasping at whatever they can right now, trying their best to assume responsibility over everything wrong with their relationship. The problem with doing that however, is that we get moments where frustration and hostility build up. We get times where Mew’s anger drives him and where Top’s frustration rears its head. They haven’t figured it out at this moment, but they need to be working together to fix this. One person cannot put in the work while the other watches. Essentially in the end, they both have to try as a team and not take it on by themselves. As another person said, they need to look at it as them versus the problem.

Going back to the dishes, if Top is going to insist on washing, then surely he can allow Mew to dry right? If not, then there really is no point of cleaning the mess at all and they can just throw all the dishes away and start over from scratch alone.

#top tanin #mew witsarut #topmew #ofts #and don’t even get me started on the actual conversation

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descendant-of-truth · 1 year

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Well guys I did say in one of my tags that the Prime!Shadow analysis would be for another time and that time is now because I'm mentally shaking him around like a ragdoll trying to figure out his secrets

What I want to highlight is just, the sheer number of ways he's been set up as the odd one out in the first third of the season alone, and why I find that so interesting. So let's break that down for a minute:

The first thing we learn about him is that he's not Sonic's friend or enemy, but a secret third thing - his rival, as specified later

But despite having a clear label for it in episode 2, Sonic finds this particular dynamic "complicated." Shadow is the only person in his life that falls under that category, and it shows in how he describes him.

"He's a real buzzkill" (negative), "and he rollerskates!" (said with admiration). Sonic complains about Shadow and compliments him in the same breath, which is hilarious but also good for character building

In that same scene though, Shadow momentarily breaks into Sonic's narration to tell him that they're air shoes, not roller skates, which is ALSO funny but once again, he's the only character to do this. Even if it's for the sake of humor, Shadow is given a sort of... protagonist privilege, if you will. He's the only one to break the "Sonic POV," something he does not just this once, but multiple times over the course of a few episodes.

Now, there are other scenes that are from the perspectives of characters that aren't Sonic, but what makes Shadow's scenes different from theirs is that his are used specifically to show that Sonic can be an unreliable narrator.

The very first scene in the show after Sonic happily describes his status quo is the event with the Paradox Prism. A moment that Shadow was 100% there for, albeit towards the end, but who is conveniently left out until we return to the scene in later episodes.

And the framing is just. so deliberate on a rewatch that it hurts, because this is one of the very first shots we see of the show:

...and it takes place directly after Sonic knocks Shadow into a wall and runs away.

Literally the INSTANT Sonic takes his eyes off of Shadow is when the show's story begins, and it starts with Sonic narrating and completely glossing over Shadow's existence

(Is anyone else going insane over this. is it just me. does the implied mental gymnastics happening here make anyone else feel like they're vibrating)

Anyway as I was saying, removing Shadow from the scene with the Prism (even cutting out his voice when he shouts "Chaos Control") keeps us in Sonic's perspective just enough to share in his confusion when he starts to remember the incident more clearly.

(It also implies that he didn't consider Shadow to be important enough to take note of in the first moment we watch the scene, which. oof, sorry Shadow)

He's also missing in the scene where Sonic is first traveling through the void, despite showing up like two seconds after him - another instance where we're kept in Sonic's perspective just enough to miss the bigger picture that has Shadow in it.

Meanwhile, scenes from Shadow's point of view give us all sorts of information; the fact that Chaos Emeralds exist, more detailed effects of Sonic's speed-amplified explosion (it gave him a vision of some sort, which I'm convinced is implying something important about it beyond "it blew up part of a mountain"), how exactly he ended up in the void, why Sonic was late to the fight with Eggman, all that good stuff

It's a pretty consistent theme with Shadow, actually. He's always there to represent the bigger picture that Sonic isn't seeing.

...partly because Sonic keeps forgetting about him, in contrast to Shadow being the only other person to remember who Sonic is.

(I didn't know where else to fit this point in, but Shadow's lost in the void while Sonic is bouncing back and forth between worlds like it's a professional sport. Narrative foils and all that, we love to see it)

But there's another way that Shadow is made distinct from everyone else Sonic knows from the original world, that I think is going to have a big effect on his character development: Shadow doesn't care about sparing Sonic's feelings.

A lot of the conflict between Sonic and his friends is based on the fact that Sonic doesn't listen well, but another thing to consider is that his friends don't really... tell him when he's made a mistake, or what their point of view was, or what exactly he was doing wrong.

Tails? He could have explained that telling Sonic there was a trap was supposed to be a cue not to attack Eggman, and that he thought Sonic knew that, and so him attacking anyway felt like blatantly disregarding his warnings.

Instead, he brushes it off with an "it's fine."

Amy tries to explain that the palm tree gift has a lot of sentimental value to everyone, and yeah that whole situation went poorly, but it doesn't seem like she ever communicated to Sonic that him disregarding it hurt their feelings.

If he was just told that he messed up and explained how he did, you know he would have tried to make it up to them, like how earnestly he apologized to Tails. He could have been working on these problems a lot sooner, but because the others want to preserve their friendship with him and don't like getting into arguments, they don't communicate with him.

Shadow has no such hangups about their relationship. He tells Sonic exactly what his problem is.

...even if Sonic doesn't seem to hear him, and Shadow should really work on the whole "punching to get his attention" thing.

There's a lot of room for improvement here, but my point is that Sonic needs someone to be this upfront and honest with him. Straightforward communication is clearly what he understands the most - Thorn simply asking him (albeit rudely) what he knew about togetherness was all it took for him to really start thinking about that, though admittedly the circumstances around the question probably helped.

And because Shadow has been set up as the only person who still knows and remembers Sonic, the one who has a wider perspective on things than he does, and cares enough about him as a person to try to get through to him in the first place without being held back by a need to maintain a friendly stance with him... he's the perfect person to help accelerate Sonic's character arc.

And, y'know, hopefully Sonic can do the same for him - though it's hard to say what exactly Shadow needs help with (beyond Not Punching People) that Sonic could contribute to, given his little screen time so far.

Case in point: this show is setting up Shadow to be Important in a way that only Shadow can be and I for one am hyped to see it all play out

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic prime #sonic prime spoilers #shadow the hedgehog #analysis #meta #Also yes this is more 'Sonic is clearly neurodivergent' content #I'm not saying he's the only one but like. it's important #This was kind of all over the place but I think it still turned out coherent

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moccahobi · 3 months

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Tangled Mess: Together

Summary: Yoongi finally tells Jungkook what has been putting distance between them.

Paring: Hoseok x GN Reader, Yoongi x Jungkook

Genre: Soulmate AU, Grad School AU, Young Professional AU, Angst, Fluff

Warnings: A Breakup

Word Count: 590 words

A/N: I am so sorry for the consistent delays in posting! Life has been super hectic but imma try to get back to posting this series regularly! I will queue up a few posts so that even when life gets hectic again, there will be a buffer. Thank you all for your patience~

Tag List: @@daisies-and-dandelionpuffs

Part 7 << Masterlist >> Part 9

Yoongi was fretting. He knew he was but it was all that he could do to stop overthinking all that could possibly go wrong. He’d hurt Jungkook and would continue to hurt Jungkook. Tonight Yoongi would lay out his feelings and insecurities and watch as Jungkook gently turned him down and their friendship was irreparably damaged.

Hoseok seemed to think it’d go well. Hoseok always seemed overly hopeful about his relationship with Jungkook.

Hoseok was wrong though.

Jungkook didn’t like him back. Couldn’t like him back. Jungkook would be too kind to explicitly say that Yoongi’s crush made him uncomfortable and they’d slowly drift apart because Jungkook would stop initiating things. The friend group would fracture as people choose who they liked hanging out with more. All because Yoongi caught stupid feelings. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Hyung! I’m here!” Jungkook was entering slowly, taking off his shoes and jacket. He looked apprehensive and shy, especially as Yoongi looked at him like a deer in the headlights.

They should have met at a cafe or something. Some sort of neutral place. But Yoongi was a coward who needed the comfort of his home to share all this.

“Come sit down! I made you some tea.” Yoongi said, guiding Jungkook to the couch and handing him some tea.

“You look nervous, hyung. Would you like to hold hands?” Jungkook. Oh sweet Jungkook.

Yoongi nodded, but let Jungkook initiate, his hand a limp mass that Jungkook rubbed comforting circles into. The warmth of Jungkook’s hand was something Yoongi would savor for as long as he could.

“So as I said… this distance is all because of me.”

Jungkook nodded.

*Gotta pull the bandaid off*

“It’s because I like you r-romantically and I don’t want it to affect our relationship or change the friend group. It is also because I’m shit at tough and emotional conversations and even when we are just discussing changing boundaries, I get so overwhelmed. It’s why I don’t date tons. Because it’s just so hard and tiring to share changes and I didn’t want to put that emotional labor on you. You don’t deserve it… but also I don’t expect you to return these feelings. Actually I am so sure that you’ll grow distant after hearing this but I had to share. I couldn’t let you think that you were the cause of this distance. It is me and my stupid stupid feelings. Stupid old me who needed some distance to not fall deeper for you. I know it’s so stupid and I am so sorr--”

Jungkook was wrapping his arms around Yoongi, holding him tightly to his (big) chest.

“This has clearly been stressing you out a ton.” Jungkook finally said, loosening his hold on Yoongi. Yoongi didn’t leave from where he was though, enjoying Jungkook’s warmth.

“I get if you don’t want to be friends anymore.”

Jungkook started laughing, his voice floating around Yoongi, “Hyung. I’ve had a crush on you since you first started complaining about capitalism. I kept on thinking about how smart and cool you are. And when you play piano? Or work out? You get so into it and so focused and I just love it so much. If I don’t want to be friends anymore it’s because I want to be boyfriends.”

“Oh.”

Yoongi slowly wrapped his arms around Jungkook.

“We will need to figure out how to chat about boundaries though.”

“I… I think I could do that.” Yoongi nodded, pressing his face into Jungkook’s shoulder.

“We will do it together.”

“Together.”

#wkcnet #bts fanfic #bts fan fic #bts fanfiction #bts fan fiction #bts yoonkook #bts mxm #bts mxr #bts angst #bts fluff #bts soulmate au #bts supernatural au #bts hoseok #bts hoseok x reader

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hanchette · 2 years

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𝐁𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 : ( twisted wonderland characters )

a/n : can anyone guess which scene from the show was trey's scenario is based off?? hehehe! also i enjoyed epel's scenario very much.

consist of : fluff, gender neutral reader, unestablished relationship — disney scenes inspired

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑, being the vice housewarden of a rather chaotic dorm takes a lot of toll to trey. there were times where he had snuck out to clear his mind off of things. the nightsky is littered with stars making it seem like it has been dumped with thousands of glitters.

the crescent moon smiles at him and trey felt a smile of his own creeping up at his face.

as he walks, he saw a figure by the pavilion of the garden. halting in his tracks, trey narrows his eyes to observe who it is, praying to great seven that it is not riddle.

sat on the pavilion's railings as you gaze up at the night, admiring the twinkling balls of rocks that forms into constellations.

“still awake, i see.” trey walks up, his heart beats loudly in his ears despite his calm exterior. “what brings you to the garden at such hour?”

he nods at your reason, sitting down beside you cooly, “hmm, well if you're asking me, i couldn't sleep so i thought i'd take a walk in hopes of clearing my mind.” he sheepishly grins, rubbing his nape as he did so.

i'll touch every star in the sky

as he set his hand down, it grazes yours and trey felt goosebumps set on his skin. his finger twitch, heart telling him to clasp his hand on yours while his mind attempts to stop him.

and yet, trey ignores both. opting to test the water by touching your pinkies together. the green haired boy peer at your reaction before deeming it okay. he loops your pinkies together and his heart soar when you squeeze his finger in response.

so this is the miracle

there's a serene moment that follows, the two of you just sat there in silence as the two of you watch the stars, crickets sang in a broken melody and the sound of water flowing from the fountain was all that is heard.

but trey disagree, for his heartbeat overpowers everything.

he closes his eyes, telling himself that he needs to remain calm. but was proven unsuccessful when he felt your had drop to his shoulder.

biting his inner lips, trey shakes his head. welcoming the feeling of fondness creeps into his whole being all the while he drops his head a bit, catching sight of your still intertwined pinkies and to your features, despite the night, he can see how red you were, that and how hot your skin is. he doubts that it is the night breeze that causes it.

that i've been dreaming of

he had decided. trey will stay here till midnight calls. for now, he shall cherish what is presented in front of him. the scent of roses lingers enough to create a relaxing atmosphere. until then, he shall stay by your side.

ㅤ

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑, the light from the setting sun emits a soft shimmer as it touches anything it can reach, leona pushes your face away as you whine, “stop being weird, in no way i am letting your hands near my tail or ears.” he grumbles under his breath but still enough for you to hear. brows furrowed and his lips slightly puckered up.

“i invited you to my room to take a nap and be my pillow, why are you being annoying?” his ear twitched.

leona groans before rolling to his side, facing you away as his tail swish a bit, giving you a small “don't even think about it.” but curiosity always seems to beat everything.

you pout as you lean on the head rest of his bed, eyeing his tail that lays on the bed oh so peacefully.

reaching out, the urge to just take a small touch overpowers your self control, and as your hand hovers over his tail, leona snatches your hand and growls. “oi.”

“so that's how you wanna play it?” the sneer disappear and was replaced by a smirk, leona pulls you until you ended up in his arms with a 'oof.'

but he did not gave you time to relay what things had transpired for his hands immediately reach to tickle your sides resulting into your laughter in the air.

and can you feel the love tonight?

he let out a light chuckle as you struggle to breathe, pushing him away by his chest which proved to be useless especially since leona is a beastsman.

amused by the situation at hand, leona allows himself to laugh at your struggle.

it is where we are

the sun has long set since then. you lay on top of leona who had soon stop of his tickling torture, his hands lay on the mid and low of your back. fluttering your eyes open, you see him looking at you with a distant gaze.

the lanterns were the source of light because he had yet to switch the one that lays on the ceiling, it frames the features of his face. as handsome as he is, the way that glare of light heightens his look sent your heartbeat in a flutter.

it's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer

leona's hand runs through your messy tresses, a result of the roughhousing that you both did. half of his fingers lay on your nape as he slowly pushes you down. “y/n... ” it's soft, barely audible, if not for the distance between the two of you.

that we got this far

his lips grazes your cheek only just. your head pushed to the side of his neck. beside him while leona nuzzles to the crook of yours. “stay.” and you knew, that leona express his want just bask in this moment. your heartbeat close to his, erratically beating and yet, you can't seem to tell which one is yours.

the two of you just lay there in each others embrace. soon, your eyes soon flutter close. warmth shared and hearts in sync.

ㅤ

𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐌 𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐌, for every once in a while, there are times when kalim is 'peaceful' and just mindlessly doing his own thing without jamil kicking down his door open to check what helluva mess he had done. the heir of the asim family lays with carpet whom he had snuck inside his room under his arms while the two of you just enjoy in each other's presence while on his plush velvety red bed.

“say, have you ever gone on a magic carpet ride?” to which you responded that you have, though not all experience had gone smooth at all.

the answer made kalim wheeze a laugh, propping on a sitting position to face you while carpet managed to escape the housewarden's hug after a few slaps on the arm. “that bad huh? riding on a carpet high above is pretty beautiful though! especially since you can see the stars!”

kalim brightens and a large crooked smile appear on his face, scrambling up to your figure as his headdress fell a bit out of place to which he immediately fixed with a sheepish grin.

“so speaking of rides! are you down for one right now?!” he enthusiastically asked and who could ever say no to that face when all he radiates is sunshine. “great!”

kalim tugs you by your wrist, albeit in a tender way. the two of you stand by the edge of his room that has a view of outside, kalim then whistles for carpet to come to him, giggling when the magic carpet embraces him before getting settled down.

a whole new world...

the boy holds onto the pillar and outstretches a hand to your direction. “do you trust me?”

with a nod, kalim clasp his hand around yours to pull you up to carpet who nodded when asked if he's ready and soon, carpet took of. kalim rested a hand to you back, “i don't want you to fall, hold on tight y/n!” when your hand circles on his waist only then did the view changes.

that's where we'll be

above the clouds where you could draw your hand in like the water, the orange and purple shade of the sky blends so perfectly, stars beginning to appear and gleam.

a thrilling chase

the breeze kisses every bare parts of your body, kalim smiles, “amazing isn't it?” carpet slows down the riding, allowing you to fully immerse yourself at the awe striking sight before you.

“the scalding sands has a view similar to this. someday, i want to take you there.”

a wondrous place

“i want to show you my favorite spots and places there, for you to meet my family.” kalim pauses, a light smile gracing his lips, it was replaced by a serious look as he muse over his feelings. he looks over the horizon with a look of fondness at the thought before slowly looking at you. “so..”

there's nothing to block the noise, everything is so clear, yet kalim's voice falters a bit as he gazes into your eyes. “please allow me to be in your world.”

for you and me

ㅤ

𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐑, epel tugs you by the hand, fingers intertwined as he pulls you to their backyard. the boy had invited you to come home with him for holidays to harveston, somewhere in the shaftlands. greeting his family who had generously welcomed you with open arms before smothering epel with affections who try to escape before fully accepting them.

“oh here, these are perfectly ripe!” epel's eyes twinkled after reaching a brightly red apple and presenting it to you with his energy bouncing all over the place.

“show your palms.” he took your hands and put the apple on it. allowing you take a bite, the freshly harvested apple gave off a refreshing taste. sweet juice spills from the fruit and an addictive taste soon follow.

upon noticing your expression, epel smiled, “that good?” you nodded at him.

someday when spring is here

his eyes widen before he looks away, hearing you take a bite again before compliments spills from your lips and he found himself taking off the strawhat that lays on his head before pressing it to your head.

hoping for you to not see his reddish face. oh how he can't handle your brightly lit expression, how you look at him with such smile.

we'll find our love anew

once you had managed to push his hand off, he giggled at your pout, wholeheartedly giggling. “heh, looks like mah hat looks good on ya, y/n. keep it on, will ya'?” his accent slips a bit as he grinned.

epel took a step forward, starting to tie the hat's strings from under your chin before pulling away and nodding in content.

“ah epel! come 'side with yar friend, 'ah made some treats fer you!”

“comin' maw!” epel answers, watching his mother disappear into their home. “then, shall we go?”

and the birds will sing

epel's grandma greets the two of you, her having settled by the lounge room with a cup of tea on her hands, immediately bombarding you with questions and stories regarding epel who either whined, scowled at the memory or silently get flustered as he listens more and more.

“ohoho, now then, ya' youngsters sure are in yer youthful years ain'tcha'? when ya' plan ta marry with mah boy, here?”

“meemaw! y-ya can't ask y/n questions like that!” epel, red from face to neck flail his arms around in embarrassment.

and the wedding bells will ring

“you! ah wanta' see some great grandchildren too, ya'kna'!” epel's grandmother lightly smack his arm before refocusing his attention towards you.

“you are a charmer, dear.” she clasp her hands around yours as she smiled. “take care of our epel will ya'? he can be headstrong an' stubborn sometimes but ah hope ya gone treat him well.”

you nodded at her words stiffly, listening to everything intently as she became overjoyed and continues to tell many of epel's childhood shenanigans.

lone and forgotten by the corner, epel's embarrassment dissipate into the air as he observes you and his grandmother chat. he nibble on a biscuit as he imagine you being his lover. everything somehow feels warm and homey. he smiled. wishing this day will not end.

someday when my dreams come true

#🛍️:scenarios #kalim makes me drop on my knees #and clutch my heart #gender neutral #twisted wonderland x reader #gender neutral mc #gender neutral reader #twst x reader #twst x you #twisted wonderland x mc #trey clover x reader #trey clover x mc #leona kingscholar x mc #kalim al asim x mc #kalim al asim x reader #epel felmier x reader #epel felmier x mc

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cthulhu-with-a-fez · 1 year

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Hey how do u know if u wanna be a boy in a cis way or a trans way? I’m a girl btw

alright so i'm gonna preface this by saying that i'm... probably not the best authority on What Makes A Man(TM), considering that i'm not one, and that no answer i give is going to catch every relevant topical nuance? but i know i've talked a bit in the tags about my personal blend of cis+ gender-woogity, so i'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that's what you're asking about!

it got pretty long, so i put it under the cut :D

there's two ways i tend to approach my assessment of my gender, which for purposes of this ask let's call "diagnostic" and "diegetic".

the diagnostic approach is more or less what it sounds like - comparing and contrasting what i understand gender to be, denotatively and connotatively and culturally, with what my sense of my own gender is, and trying to figure out what feels closest to me and why. this has been influenced pretty heavily by two posts i've seen floating around over the years but can't for the life of me find right now.

one of them is just a quote to the effect of "consistently wishing you were a different gender is a pretty strong indicator of being that gender." and it makes sense, right? human intuition, gut feeling like that, is made of a million little deductions about the world relative to yourself that you don't consciously process all of, but which make themselves known however they can. if you're a girl but you keep finding yourself thinking "man, i wish i was a boy," that might be your brain doing behind-the-scenes pattern recognition about being a boy and trying to flag your attention towards it.

which isn't to say that it's an infallible tell, gut feelings are not always correct, let alone accurate! even when they are, you're getting, like. fortune cookie amounts of information about things that might require thesis paper amounts. but that's where you have to take a level in metacognition and think about why you think about or respond to something the way you do. or, to quote discworld,

“First Thoughts are the everyday thoughts. Everyone has those. Second Thoughts are the thoughts you think about the way you think. People who enjoy thinking have those. Third Thoughts are thoughts that watch the world and think all by themselves. They’re rare, and often troublesome. Listening to them is part of witchcraft.”

― Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky

figuring out the why of your own responses is good for tons of non-gender-related reasons, but it's especially helpful with those kind of vague but persistent I Feel A Way About This thoughts. if you're a girl and you keep thinking "man, i wish i were a boy", there's a lot of reasons you might think that! for legit gender reasons, yeah, but it might also be "i wish i were a boy because their clothes look better" or "i wish i were a boy because then i wouldn't get cat-called" or "because they get paid more" or "because no one assumes they can't pick up heavy things" or more. some of them are aesthetic things, some of them are cultural misogyny things, all of them are relevant and valid! but it also makes it a little harder to tell how heavily gender-weighted they are in general - you can be mad about the pay gap and and explore a more masculine silhouette while still robustly being a woman.

(though, pro tip about the clothes? regardless of your genderfeel, men's section jeans are where it's at. huge pockets. not made of tissue paper. sized with actual waist/inseam measurements instead of a random number revealed to a women's fashion exec in a vision. cannot recommend them strongly enough. have pocket. be free.)

that brings us to the second post that i regrettably can't find, and another excellent diagnostic tool!

it was a comment written by a trans man in a longer thread about gender identity, talking about something that helped him distinguish between 'cultural misogyny sucks' thoughts and 'i am not a woman' thoughts. he definitely explained it more eloquently, but his rule of thumb was "would this upset me if it happened to me, but not to a female friend?"

for example, if someone holds the door for a girl and calls her "ma'am," all courteous manners, that would probably not be an issue for most women! but if you aren't a woman, or you're starting to not feel like one, it might not feel so comfortable an interaction.

i've learned to use that as a baseline for a problem management system for "i wish i was..." thoughts like those - it really does help to distinguish between external circumstance thoughts wearing a gender envy hat vs actual gender envy thoughts hiding under an external-circumstance hat, especially when there's multiple confounding factors involved. for example, let's go back to the clothes thing for a second!

i've always had a bit of a contentious relationship with clothes shopping, which in hindsight was a combination of personal aesthetic, sensory issues, body image issues, and gender issues. trying to develop my aesthetic was hard, especially back when "department store girls' section" was my only real choice and the best i ever hoped for was a grudging least-worst option just to get it over with. this has since changed! i have experienced presentation euphoria! i have a style now that feels comfortable and makes me happy! but it was a steep climb to get there until i learned how to identify what made the least-worst option least worst and move closer to it.

sometimes it's easy, like "this fabric is soft but the color is hideous" so find a different color, or "it's too tight across the chest because it was designed for someone skinny" so try a different size, or "this is just blatantly not-my-aesthetic" so move on. but sometimes it's "i'm getting steadily more upset trying to find a dress that i don't hate on my body despite them looking and feeling just fine on the hanger," and that one's a little tougher.

because on one hand, part of it really was the body image issues. i don't need to shop plus-size, but there's still something really disheartening about basically every retail outlet's 'normal' size range heavily implying that i'm only barely thin enough to be worth catering to, you know? fatphobia in the fashion industry is a whole different other conversation that we're not having right now, but it heavily contributed to some non-gender-related body dysphoria that's played first-chair tuba in my brain for a long time.

but on the other hand, looking at myself in a mirror wearing a dress and really hating it wasn't entirely about my body in a dress - it was also about my body in a dress. it didn't really click until a good friend of mine invited me to be in their wedding party, and said "we're not doing bridesmaid's dresses, just bridal party colors, wear whatever you feel most comfortable in as long as it matches!" and i spent ten seconds mentally gearing up for another godawful harrowing misery gauntlet of dress shopping -

and then stopped. because.

if i can wear something comfortable.

and a dress isn't.

...... what if i wore a suit?

and lo, i went to men's wearhouse and got slacks and a vest and a buttondown and a tie and it was amazing. i feel so fucking good in that outfit, i feel handsome and classy and confident in a way i literally never once in my life have felt while wearing a dress.

most of the time, people want things or don't-want things for a whole blend of reasons, and if there's one reason yelling loudest (hello, body-dysphoria tuba) it's often hard to tell what the rest of the factors are. but it's really, genuinely worth it to try and figure it out, even if you have to dig through a big old lump of stress and misery to get there - understanding yourself better and accepting what you find will only ever lead to quality-of-life improvements. sometimes it's as simple as refining your aesthetic some more, realizing "i can do better than grudging least-worst options" and navigating towards a wardrobe that you actually like!

but sometimes, it's realizing that your clothes don't make you feel good in the first place because they're expecting a kind of gender performance out of you that you can't comfortably give.

and that's where the "diegetic" part of my self-analysis kicks in.

the definition of "diegetic" is (of sound in a movie, television program, etc.) occurring within the context of the story and able to be heard by the characters. the score of a movie is non-diegetic, whereas the song playing on the radio during a driving scene is. how does this relate to my gender, you might ask?

well... perception.

i can be on as many levels of Advanced Gendermancy as i want, but that's all non-diegetic. myself as i am, occurring within the context of existing in public and able to be seen by the other people out there living life? i'm gonna get perceived as a gender, and i'm gonna get perceived as "girl," with maybe an addition of "... queer?" when i feel like making a statement with flannels. and that's okay with me. it's not a hardship to have people assume i'm a girl, because yeah, i'm a girl! ish! mostly! girl-lite, girl-as-default, noncommittal-wiggly-hand-gesture rounding-down-to-the-closest-answer girl.

but the thing is, i'm a carpenter. blue-collar union carpenter. women comprise... i think 2% of the construction workforce in my area. which means that just by existing on-site, i'm making all the guys remember that the gender binary exists because there's now a "them" for them to be an "us" about. i get called "miss kelly" like that's my whole name by the guys from my company who know me, and i get called "young lady" by guys from other companies who don't, and it's all very respectful and courteous, but... i don't want it. what i want is access to the "we're literally all men here so it doesn't even matter that we're men" gender space they have without me, which i can't have, because i am diegetically female in a male-dominated field. and if gender is a fluid, i'm a water balloon deforming under pressure, because the more frequently i get Gendered on-site - even when everyone's been nothing but polite about it, and certainly not intending any insult! - the more stressed-out i get in the same direction as wearing dresses made me feel. it's too much, too constrictive of an expectation that i do not meet, and i don't like it, and you know what helps?

chasing masculine presentation a little harder to make up for it.

being seen and Gendered masculinely, even if it's a little more than i would normally want, feels good because it's balancing the pH of my gender fluid again, and getting to have that is entirely dependent on someone else perceiving you and acting on that perception.

so that's part of it as well, beyond any interior exploration you can do. it isn't just about what you feel like, which is certainly important - it's also about the way people treat you relative to what you feel like. and it's hard, it's really really hard, to figure out what's right for you in that balance, especially if you don't know what's wrong in the first place.

it's like being blindfolded on a beach and told to find wheat grains scattered in the sand by touch alone. you know there's something good out there but not where it is or how to find it, only that you don't have it, and if you find wheat at all it's mixed in with so much sand you can hardly taste it anyway. if you're lucky, you bump into someone who's gone through it already who can take the blindfold off and show you how to sift for wheat instead of just eating a handful of sand and hoping, and that makes it easier, but for every one person like that there's a hundred more who've never had to try to pick wheat out of sand and can't tell the difference anyhow who think you're just not trying hard enough to live off of the """wheat""" you've been given.

i can't really tell you what it feels like to want to be a boy, because i'm not a boy and i don't really want to be? but i can tell you how i worked out the gender that i've got right now, and i hope it helps you anyway.

#answered asks by cwaf #anon asks by cwaf #advanced gendermancy #i'm obviously not trying to Speak For The Trans Community(TM) here i'm just one person trying my best to articulate some stuff #but these are the things that have impacted my gender exploration the hardest #so i hope they're useful tools for you too!#i can't take credit for the sand vs wheat analogy because my datemate came up with it but they said i could use it here #if you do some thinking and discover that you *do* want to be a boy there's a ton of trans resources out there!!#there's a whole community who'd be happy to help guide you if you reach out to them for advice #but this is what i've got for you right now

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