#different types of caretakers
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cant believe i havent shown women of all time on here. look at how perfect they are
#theyre near identical twins#just the eye types are different#and they are twins in my brain#theyre caretakers of the gods#(anna and yan)#yan was on the front page yesterday. so awesome#flight rising#dragon share
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me trying to be optimistic about an unnecessary plot line in an otherwise delicious k-drama:
you know what, if i survived Game of Thrones Season 8 Episode 4, I can endure this
#this is me trying to prepare myself for the potentially stupid past connection in#love scout#i swear to god if jiyun's dad died saving eunho...............#i don't even know how they're going to resolve that level of resentment and guilt in the 8 episodes left#the only way this can be interesting is if they explore how two people can respond to the same 'type of trauma' in very different ways#and manifest very different kinds of pathological perfectionism#which somehow makes them compatible because they balance each other out#if eunho's caretaking fills the void in jiyun's life and she gives him space to not be okay rather than defaulting to self-sacrificing mode#that would be *chef's kiss* but also probably asking too much of a k-drama sadly
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does anyone have like. things to say/show to a little who is in Emotional Distress and can't get out of it (he's like 9 and like,,,,, deeply traumatized,, and he hasn't been able to calm down for several days)
#we got him to eat some mashed potatoes today and he's okay with like. two entire headmates being around him#he won't even accept comfort from his initial caretaker in the system he's clinging to taryn and reagan instead#but like other than that tiny amount of progress he's still. fucked up#it's been about a week of this and today is the first day he's accepted a hug#he's just terrified of everything and nearly catatonic from the level of emotional distress#like not speaking barely moving only slightly reacting to anything#only communicating in nods and shrugs#we're all so worried but we haven't had a little in front in so long let alone a traumatized little#the last pair of littles we've had in front were two very emotionally sound and energetic little boys which are different to deal with#they were two little chaos gremlins that's a very different type of parenting than for a child who doesn't trust adults much#he only trusts taryn and reagan because they've helped him with stuff that made him feel more safe#like helping set up his bedroom in headspace or enforcing his boundaries with other headmates#and because both of them are mothers so they know a little more about how to care for children compared to others in headspace#taryn got him a unicorn plushie at goodwill recently and it's been his only comfort item all week#we also would like suggestions for names for her bc we're bad at naming plushies but that's less important
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#I got a request asking for a sick oc and their caretaker doesnt believe it#jonah/leo isnt possible rn they're in cloud nine#wendy/vince are too open for this to work#i'm open to suggestions on different combos tho!#but I have the start of this one typed#so this is happening regardless lol#sickfic
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Oh additional Céline/Sharena friendship thought. I think BOTH of them would want to be/consider themselves to be "the big sister" to the other SO BAD. LIKE. It doesn't even matter what their ages are here it is A Mentality. And I think they both have different flavors of Youngest Sibling Who Wishes They Had a Baby Sibling syndrome. I think they absolutely fight over this LMFAOOO
#sharena#fe celine#I WISH I COULD GIVE YOU THE ESSAY. but i am just speaking out my ass based one vibes alone LMFAOO#ESP FOR SHARENA BUT LIKE...... she really does strike me as the type who WOULD hold it over you#if she was even just a month 'older' than you.#obvs not in a mean way but like in a braggy way LMFAOOOO#PLEASE. IT'S ALL SHE HAS. AFTER A LIFETIME OF BEING BABIED BY ALFONSE.#meanwhile celine is on the opposite end of this. she had to grow up fast. forced herself to stop being 'a crybaby'. ect#and like i'm sure alfred dotes on her too but like. the dynamic is undeniably different here.#celine has taken up the role to BE the caretaker. bc she kind of Had To. considering everything she's dealt with#losing her father and having a sickly brother. like. even if he's the older one. she feels that deep need to take care of him#and i think these two different types of 'wants to imprint on someone to be a big sister' would be SO funny to see clash
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Whumptember 2: "Let me do this for you"
These characters have been hanging out on the fringes of my mind for a while now, why not take them out for a walk.
Tonight, the tavern was warm and jovial. Flames crackled in the fireplace that took up most of the wall across from the doorway. A minstrel sat perched on a high stool next to it, their deft fingers teasing a soft, soothing melody out of a lute. Glass clinked against metal as a group of merchants laughed together, celebrating a deal well sealed and toasting future opportunities; some of them had discarded tankards in favor of going straight for the bottles. Two tables away, three people in noble clothes hidden under commoners' cloaks looked to be enjoying a romantic evening. At the bar, a city guard flirted relentlessly with the maid. A slightly exasperated patron clearly couldn't decide whether he wished to interfere for the sake of finally getting a drink or would rather not spoil somebody's fun. The air smelled of fresh stew and mulled wine.
Amidst all of this, even tucked away in the farthest corner, Raj found it easy to pretend like he could have some of this, too, one day. The simple joys, the simple comforts. Life.
Just as long as he paid all his debts first and didn't die trying.
He smoothed out the map in front of him and traced the tip of his nail over the shoreline, the faded blue expanse of the Whirlpool Gulf, the smattering of small islands to the west.
"Fortune guiding me, I shouldn't be gone for longer than a month," he told Ash. "My sisters should have enough coin or that long, but if I stall, I can count on you to check up on them and see to their needs, right? I’ll pay you back, obviously."
His friend drummed their fingers over the chipped edge of the table. A deep crease settled between their pale eyebrows; a deeper one at the corner of their mouth.
"You shouldn't be doing this."
Raj swallowed a sigh. "On the contrary. It's a fantastic opportunity—"
"To get yourself killed for real this time?"
This was... needlessly dramatic. "Excuse me, are you doubting my skills?"
"No, only your sanity. Raj, you've done two jobs with the Western pirates, and frankly, it makes for two more than reasonable. And aren't you now expected to work under the same captain as the last time?"
Raj grimaced. "Unfortunately, yes. I suppose he'll be happier to see me than I him. Still, that's a good chance to turn the tables a little bit, after all the grief the guy gave me."
"Grief." Ash's expression was unreadable.
"Well, what else would you call it?" Raj asked with a fatalistic shrug. "No, don't answer. You'll come up with all sorts of drastically tragic epithets, whereas the truth is, it was—"
Ash leaned forward so sharply Raj kind of wanted to flinch back. Of course, what he did instead was freeze and stop talking.
"If you're going to tell me it was nothing, I swear to the gods..." Ash drew a steadying breath. "I was the one who patched you up after that stint, Raj. Don't you dare tell me you were fine."
"I was, though," Raj insisted, not so much ignoring the way Ash's dark eyes narrowed as acknowledging it and saying his part anyway. "I can handle a few beatings, as long as it gets the work done and paid for. So how about you stop fretting and we keep drinking?" He reached for the jug at the center of the table and topped their glasses with gusto. "Ths is meant to be a celebration! I fought for this contract!"
"Yes, because you're a blighted fool," Ash said stiffly. Still, when Raj brought up a glass in a toast, they clinked theirs against his. Hard. So hard, in fact, that the blood-like red liquid splashed over the rims, drinks mixing together.
Raj offered an easy smile. "That's all right by me. If memory serves me right, before ascending the throne the first Astragi king, bless his spirit and all that, served as the Last Emperor's fool. Therefore, being a fool is quite the noble calling with awesome career prospects. Cheers."
Ash snatched his wrist before he could bring the glass to this lips.
"Let me do this for you. No, listen! You'll still get the money. Even the credit, should that be what you're after. Lie low here in the city, or travel to the country for a while. I've got a cover-up in the works already. Once I'm back, we'll convince the bosses you were the one who did the job."
All Raj could do was stare. There was a feverish glint in Ash's eyes, a flush to their skin that could probably be explained by all the ale they'd consumed already. This crazy idea probably boasted the same origin.
He laughed. "Now which one of us is the fool?"
Ash tightened their grip on his hand. "Please, Raj. Let me do this. The risks for me are lower, anyway. I'm not the kind of person Captain Turncoat would harbor a grudge for. I can keep my head down, lay low, pretend to be boring and unobtrusive. You know I can."
"The captain isn't the only monster aboard that ship." Raj's throat tightened when he thought about this. Ash, spending weeks in the open sea with Turncoat's crew, treated with disdain at best, because pirates hated their organization even—especially—when they agreed to work together for mutual gain? Having all possible offenses pinned on them, all possible punishments dispensed their way? No. No, and nope, and fuck this shit.
"Please, Raj."
He shook his head, wrenched his hand away, and downed half a glass in one go.
Immediately, his mind felt fuzzy. The glass cluttered out of his weakened grasp and rolled over the table surface, spilling ale everywhere. The map would be ruined if it wasn't for Ash's quick fingers, already folding it away.
Numb and with no control of his body or tongue, Raj could only slump in his chair while Ash stood, walked over, and methodically searched his pockets for the job token.
No. No, please, anything but this.
Ash bent down to plant a small kiss against his temple.
"You'll feel better in an hour, tops," they whispered. "Stay safe. See you in a month, give or take."
Their footsteps echoed away, and Raj couldn't even turn his head to watch them go. By the fireplace, the minstrel was still playing, the melody rising and falling like the tides.
You fucking idiot.
Raj didn't know if he was aiming the thought at Ash or himself.
#warden's random scribbles#whumptember2023#my writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#original fiction#snippet#flash fiction#fantasy#whump writing#probably barely whump to be honest?#this was supposed to take a different turn#but i think i started too soon and gave the caretaker type too much free reign#sacrifice
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I got to hold a 500,000 year old hand axe at the museum today.
It's right-handed
I am right-handed
There are grooves for the thumb and knuckle to grip that fit my hand perfectly
I have calluses there from holding my stylus and pencils and the gardening tools.
There are sharper and blunter parts of the edge, for different types of cutting, as well as a point for piercing.
I know exactly how to use this to butcher a carcass.
A homo erectus made it
Some ancestor of mine, three species ago, made a tool that fits my hand perfectly, and that I still know how to use.
Who were you
A man? A woman? Did you even use those words?
Did you craft alone or were you with friends? Did you sing while you worked?
Did you find this stone yourself, or did you trade for it? Was it a gift?
Did you make it for yourself, or someone else, or does the distinction of personal property not really apply here?
Who were you?
What would you think today, seeing your descendant hold your tool and sob because it fits her hands as well?
What about your other descendant, the docent and caretaker of your tool, holding her hands under it the way you hold your hands under your baby's head when a stranger holds them.
Is it bizarre to you, that your most utilitarian object is now revered as holy?
Or has it always been divine?
Or is the divine in how I am watching videos on how to knap stone made by your other descendants, learning by example the way you did?
Tomorrow morning I am going to the local riverbed in search of the appropriate stones, and I will follow your example.
The first blood spilled on it will almost certainly be my own, as I learn the textures and rhythm of how it's done.
Did you have cuss words back then? Gods to blaspheme when the rock slips and you almost take your thumbnail off instead? Or did you just scream?
I'm not religious.
But if spilling my own blood to connect with a stranger who shared it isn't partaking in the divine
I don't know what is.
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i keep thinking about how id make a dd3 in a way that combines the good shit from 1 and 2 and i keep...ending up with something that looks like kingdoms but im not sure thats fully IT ya know
#darkest dungeon#confounded by the fact that ive noticed#people who prefer 1 really like kingdoms#but people who prefer 2 dont like it as much#this is just like a thought exercise for me for funsies#would love to hear thots#im still running off The Pattern i joked about a few months back#has to be a different type of game#has to have some sort of loop mechanic/possibility either narratively or in game#caretaker has to be there with a new fuckass job#so yeah it could still be a rhythm game if it was kingdoms styles#we could make ot work#ive been vaguely looking up how lightwaves may effect sound waves specifically those of the voice#bullshiting how to connect that to the concept of the mind/soul to fit in the pattern of final bosses#look guys i havent been able to dd post for 4 days just#brace
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HOW TO WRITE A CHARACTER WHO IS IN PAIN
first thing you might want to consider: is the pain mental or physical?
if it’s physical, what type of pain is it causing? — sharp pain, white-hot pain, acute pain, dull ache, throbbing pain, chronic pain, neuropathic pain (typically caused by nerve damage), etc
if it’s mental, what is the reason your character is in pain? — grief, heartbreak, betrayal, anger, hopelessness, fear and anxiety, etc
because your character will react differently to different types of pain
PHYSICAL PAIN
sharp and white-hot pain may cause a character to grit their teeth, scream, moan, twist their body. their skin may appear pale, eyes red-rimmed and sunken with layers of sweat covering their forehead. they may have tears in their eyes (and the tears may feel hot), but they don’t necessarily have to always be crying.
acute pain may be similar to sharp and white-hot pain; acute pain is sudden and urgent and often comes without a warning, so your character may experience a hitched breathing where they suddenly stop what they’re doing and clench their hand at the spot where it hurts with widened eyes and open mouth (like they’re gasping for air).
dull ache and throbbing pain can result in your character wanting to lay down and close their eyes. if it’s a headache, they may ask for the lights to be turned off and they may be less responsive, in the sense that they’d rather not engage in any activity or conversation and they’d rather be left alone. they may make a soft whimper from their throat from time to time, depends on their personality (if they don’t mind others seeing their discomfort, they may whimper. but if your character doesn’t like anyone seeing them in a not-so-strong state, chances are they won’t make any sound, they might even pretend like they’re fine by continuing with their normal routine, and they may or may not end up throwing up or fainting).
if your character experience chronic pain, their pain will not go away (unlike any other illnesses or injuries where the pain stops after the person is healed) so they can feel all these types of sharp pain shooting through their body. there can also be soreness and stiffness around some specific spots, and it will affect their life. so your character will be lucky if they have caretakers in their life. but are they stubborn? do they accept help from others or do they like to pretend like they’re fine in front of everybody until their body can’t take it anymore and so they can no longer pretend?
neuropathic pain or nerve pain will have your character feeling these senses of burning, shooting and stabbing sensation, and the pain can come very suddenly and without any warning — think of it as an electric shock that causes through your character’s body all of a sudden. your character may yelp or gasp in shock, how they react may vary depends on the severity of the pain and how long it lasts.
EMOTIONAL PAIN
grief can make your character shut themself off from their friends and the world in general. or they can also lash out at anyone who tries to comfort them. (five states of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and eventual acceptance.)
heartbreak — your character might want to lock themself in a room, anywhere where they are unseen. or they may want to pretend that everything’s fine, that they’re not hurt. until they break down.
betrayal can leave a character with confusion, the feelings of ‘what went wrong?’, so it’s understandable if your character blames themself at first, that maybe it’s their fault because they’ve somehow done something wrong somewhere that caused the other character to betray them. what comes after confusion may be anger. your character can be angry at the person who betrayed them and at themself, after they think they’ve done something wrong that resulted in them being betrayed, they may also be angry at themself next for ‘falling’ for the lies and for ‘being fooled’. so yes, betrayal can leave your character with the hatred that’s directed towards the character who betrayed them and themself. whether or not your character can ‘move on and forgive’ is up to you.
there are several ways a character can react to anger; they can simply lash out, break things, scream and yell, or they can also go complete silent. no shouting, no thrashing the place. they can sit alone in silence and they may cry. anger does make people cry. it mostly won’t be anything like ‘ugly sobbing’ but your character’s eyes can be bloodshot, red-rimmed and there will be tears, only that there won’t be any sobbing in most cases.
hopelessness can be a very valid reason for it, if you want your character to do something reckless or stupid. most people will do anything if they’re desperate enough. so if you want your character to run into a burning building, jump in front of a bullet, or confess their love to their archenemy in front of all their friends, hopelessness is always a valid reason. there’s no ‘out of character’ if they are hopeless and are desperate enough.
fear and anxiety. your character may be trembling, their hands may be shaky. they may lose their appetite. they may be sweaty and/or bouncing their feet. they may have a panic attack if it’s severe enough.
and I think that’s it for now! feel free to add anything I may have forgotten to mention here!
#how to#writers on writing#writing#whump#writer#whumpblr#writers#writeblr#angst#writing guide#writing resources#writing challenge#writing inspo#writing inspiration#whump prompts#whump prompt#writing tropes#writing trope#ao3#archive of our own#fanfic#blorbo#comfort character#fanfiction#tropes#trope#whump tropes#prompts#prompt#whump trope
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big big reminder that high support needs / severe autism / level 3 autism folk aren't very straightforward narrow topic too . we rather big spectrum as well !!! some us need very specific type supports than another some us need multiple caretakers ect !!! and reminder that just because high support needs / severe autism / level 3 autism person learn to do or can do a task independently doesn't mean theyre lower needs now.
i know level 3 autistic guy with severe cognitive impairment who can unload and load dishwasher by self, set plates on table for meals and wash body most well independently but with supervised in the room for safety, but that dont make his support needs and autism level lower he still cant take care of himself by own, cant go out home by self, cant shop by self, cant drive, doesn't understand stuff same level others do, still need that carer for life.
so please remember autistic people who high need level 3 severe ect not monolith too we are all different, different interests, different abilities, different ways of supports too!!
#rurusharing#actually autistic#level 3 autism#high support needs#autistic adult#autism#severe autism#higher support needs#autism awareness#autism community
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Hi guys. Am sick rn, but had wanted to post this before I go and sleep.
Some of you may already know that patreon sent out an update that charges anyone using ios to subscribe to artist's patreons 30% more.
I immediately feel this impact mere hours later, and now, days later. I'm hemorrhaging patrons & have less income. It would mean the while world to me if you guys could please reblog this.
If you use the desktop version or the android app? you will not have to pay 30% more. Needless to say this decision of apple has completely fucked me over months and months to come, unless I somehow make up for my loss by other means.
My patreon is only a dollar a month!
I have around 400 exclusive artwork on it :)
I am working on uploading more art there, and more comics once I am done with my current contract as a comic artist.
I am currently partially homeless- so being alive in general is hard ;y; I wanted to focus more of my work on patreon, until this update- I only have one tier.
I am working as hard as I can, every month ♡ I am also the caretaker of three disabled people- as my dad, who used to do all the housework, is now too sick with a swollen liver that could possibly be connected to his heart problems, and my mama who has limited movement- she "died" of sepsis many years ago after giving birth to my sister, and was revived with nerve damage. I don't know the medical terms, but she was brain dead for however long, and was successfully brought back in a different hospital. She was comatose for months; this event has lead to my family losing everything in hospital bills, our car, our house (literally we became homeless) ah. But long story short, I am the only person in my family who works- as my sister is a teenager, and she is autistic with a very, very low frustration threshold, as she is also a picky eater and still going to school! I'm sorry, many of my followers already know this story by now, I have already doxxed myself multiple times trying to avert crisis after crisis, ahaha. But yes. Patreon added to my cart of Sorrows, and would love to have more folks who aren't using apple, or are using android and the web to come on over and maybe enjoy some of my private art up there. I post around 3-6 art a month, if I am lucky 7. I want to keep making art, and my patreon was what was giving me a semblance of stability until that silly update. Sorry for the long post, and I appreciate everyone helping, reblogging, saying kind words to me, praying for me. G-d bless you all, and stay safe
My patreon:
Direct tipping jar:
My print shop!
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i think i've said it before but. as a professional caregiver it rubs me the wrong way how our field (and pretty much any field that involves caring for vulnerable people) is venerated
like don't get me wrong i am all for appreciating blue collar type professions, employees that are underpaid and overworked and vital for how our society functions
but it's a specific flavour of treating us like martyrs that doesn't show up when people appreciate construction workers or garbage truck drivers or janitors or fry cooks or whatnot.
it's a specific flavour of acting like we're doing a huge selfless favour for our clients that doesn't show up when people appreciate customer service workers or housekeepers or whatnot.
what's really ironic there is caregivers have far more power over their clients than customer service workers or housekeepers have over their clients.
and it just leads to so much shittiness in the industry. it's bad for patients cuz they don't feel like they can speak out when a caretaker is mistreating them (or even just doing something they don't like, even on accident), cuz they're expected to feel grateful for what the caregiver is doing for them. and it enables some shitty caregivers to get a complex about how their patients owe them gratitude for doing their jobs. isn't good for non-shitty caregivers too cuz sometimes the good ones then feel obligated to overextend and sacrifice themselves to be worthy of that gratitude.
just like yeah idk appreciate us but don't appreciate us any differently than you should appreciate any other worker i guess idk
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dirty old man
You were assigned as Joel Miller’s caretaker, but he’s a perverted old man who just can’t keep his hands off you. And the truth is, you don’t mind one bit—in fact, you want more.
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, age gap, caretaker f!reader, joel is a perverted old man (I imagine him around 60-70), reader in her 20s, ddlg dynamic, daddy kink, size difference, rough sex, explicit sexual content, power imbalance, perverted/dirty talk, oral (male receiving), dick riding, degradation, cum play, intense kink dynamics, hint at oral (f. receiving), cumming inside, reader loves herself some old man cock (same)
more dirty old man in masterlist
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
You’d been assigned to Joel Miller by the government, part of a caretaker program for veterans and older men who couldn’t quite manage on their own anymore.
He wasn’t exactly the type to ask for help, but his injuries left him with no choice. And from the moment you walked through that door, something shifted between the two of you.
It had started innocently enough—you were just doing your job, helping him with the daily things, cooking, cleaning, making sure he took his meds.
But Joel? Joel was a different kind of man. He wasn’t just the gruff, quiet type; he was observant. He watched you—really watched you. At first, you tried to ignore it, the way his eyes lingered a little too long when you bent over, or how he’d mutter something dirty under his breath when you passed by, something you pretended not to hear but couldn’t stop thinking about later.
The first time he really crossed the line, it was subtle.
His hands would brush against your ass when you helped him up, fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. His gaze would trail down your body as you walked by, slow and shameless.
And his words started to shift, the way he talked to you changed.
He wasn’t just thanking you anymore, he was complimenting you in a way that made your skin flush.
The things he said, the low, filthy edge in his voice, it did something to you. You could feel your resolve crumbling.
One night, when you were helping him undress for bed, he let his hands wander. It wasn’t accidental anymore -Joel was testing the waters, and you didn’t stop him.
His voice had been rough, low as he said, “You’re too good to me, sweetheart. A man like me doesn’t deserve someone as pretty as you takin' care of him.”
He’d leaned in that night, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered something filthy, something that made your heart race and your body heat up. And you couldn’t resist it.
You couldn’t resist him.
Joel Miller wasn’t just a job anymore—he was something more.
From that point on, it was impossible to stop. He seduced you slowly, his filthy words and rough hands becoming more familiar, more irresistible until you couldn’t help yourself.
You gave in, and now, here you were, fucking him every chance you got.
What started with stolen touches and whispered innuendos had turned into something wild, something neither of you could control anymore. Joel made you feel wanted in ways you hadn’t before, and he wasn’t shy about taking what he wanted from you.
Joel wasn’t a young man, but the way his hands gripped you, the way his cock filled you, stretched you, made it clear he could still make you weak at the knees. You made him feel things he thought were long gone, things he hadn’t felt in years—desire, hunger, lust.
It was like you’d unlocked something inside him, something primal and desperate, and now he couldn’t get enough of you.
And the way he talked to you, the dirty things that fell from his lips, made your heart race every time. He had no shame in telling you exactly what he wanted, exactly how to make him feel good.
· · ────
From the moment you walked into his life as his government-assigned caretaker, Joel couldn’t stop thinking about you. Not just thinking, but obsessing.
You were young, beautiful and far too fuckin` sweet. Completely out of place taking care of an old, worn-out man like him.
Yet here you were, every day, walking around his house in those tight little clothes, bending over to clean or reach for something, unknowingly driving him insane.
He’d resisted at first, or at least he told himself he did. But Joel was never a man of restraint, especially when temptation was sitting right in front of him, practically begging for it.
And damn if you didn’t start giving him that look—a mix of innocence and curiosity, like you knew exactly what you were doing, yet playing dumb, as if you didn’t feel the way his eyes lingered on you.
The sexual tension had built up so fast, it was like a fuse waiting to blow.
One night, after one too many "innocent" touches, the line between you two snapped. He pulled you into his lap, made you feel every inch of what you'd done to him, and you never looked back.
Now, this—this—was your new normal.
Every time you walked into the room, his cock was hard, his mind already in the gutter, thinking about what he’d do to you next.
Like now.
You were just cleaning up, wearing those simple jeans and that tight little tank top, nothing too revealing but still enough to make his cock twitch.
Joel sat back in his chair, his eyes following the way your hips swayed when you moved.
“Goddamn, sweetheart,” Joel muttered under his breath, the hunger clear in his voice. “You know exactly what you’re doin’, hm baby?”
His gaze narrowed as you bent over, your ass perfectly framed by the tight denim, the curve of your body practically inviting him.
Filthy thoughts swirled through his mind—thoughts of bending you over the nearest table, grabbing your hips, and fucking you so hard you’d be screaming his name.
You straightened up and caught him staring, giving him that innocent smile—the one that had him aching in his jeans.
You bit your lip, like you were playing shy, and it only made his cock throb harder.
“You okay over there, Joel?” you asked, your voice all sweet and playful like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing to him.
Joel shifted in his seat, making no effort to hide the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’m just fine, darlin’. But in fact, I think I could use a little help right now. A bath maybe?”
Your eyes widened slightly, but there was no surprise. You knew this game all too well. The way his voice dropped to that deep, gravelly tone that meant only one thing—he wanted you.
And Joel always got what he wanted.
“Come here,” he rumbled, patting his thigh, his eyes never leaving you. “Don’t make me wait.”
You hesitated, just for a moment, like you were still playing the role of the innocent caretaker. But you knew where this was heading.
Slowly, you walked over, standing right in front of him. Joel’s eyes drank in the sight of you, his gaze trailing up from your legs, over your hips, to the way your breasts strained against your tank top.
"Sit down," he commanded, patting his thigh again, this time more insistently.
You bit your lip, feigning innocence, but the look in your eyes said you knew exactly what you were about to do.
Slowly, you lowered yourself onto his lap, feeling the hard bulge of his cock pressing up against you through his jeans. Joel let out a low groan, his hands immediately finding your hips, pulling you down harder onto him.
"Fuck," he muttered, his voice a deep rasp. "That’s better. You feel that, baby? Feel what you do to me every fuckin’ day?”
You squirmed slightly in his lap, already feeling the heat building between your legs. Joel’s hands gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided your hips, pressing you down onto his hard cock.
"You've been drivin' me crazy, darlin'," Joel growled, his breath hot against your neck.
“Ever since you started comin' here, wearin’ those tight little clothes, bendin' over right in front of me like you don’t know what you’re doin'. You’ve been teasin’ me, haven’t ya?”
Your breath hitched, and you didn’t answer, but Joel didn’t need you to. His hands slid up your sides, lifting your shirt just enough to feel the bare skin beneath his calloused palms.
“You’re a sweet little thing,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust.
“But I bet you like this, don’t ya? You like sittin' in an old man’s lap, grindin' on my cock like a good girl.”
You whimpered softly, your body already responding to his touch, the heat between your legs growing unbearable as he pulled you tighter against him.
His words were filthy, but the way he spoke made it clear—you were his, and he was going to take whatever he wanted.
"You’ve got all those boys your age starin' at you, darlin’? But here you are, sittin' on my cock. You want it, hm, baby?" Joel’s voice was low, his breath hot as his hands moved down, grabbing your ass, pulling you against him harder, the friction between you sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
“Feel how fuckin’ hard I am?” he growled, grinding his hips up into you, making sure you felt every inch of his cock pressing against your core. “This is what you do to me.”
His fingers slid between your legs, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the damp fabric of your jeans, right where you needed him most.
You gasped, grinding down against his hand, desperate for more. Joel chuckled darkly, his fingers pressing harder, his voice low and commanding.
“Goddamn, you’re already soaked, aren’t ya? Just from sittin’ in my lap. You like this? Bein' told what to do, bein' my good little girl. You’re gonna take care of me now, huh? That’s your job, isn’t it?”
His hand moved to the button of your jeans, and he popped it open with ease, sliding the zipper down slowly, teasingly, all the while his eyes never left yours.
His fingers dipped inside, brushing against your slick folds, and you let out a soft moan, your hips jerking against his hand.
"That’s it, sweetheart," Joel murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
"You’re gonna be a good little girl and take care of your daddy. You’ve been teasing me long enough. Now it’s time to do your damn job.”
His hand slid lower, fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had you trembling in his lap. He growled low in his throat, his cock twitching beneath you as he watched you squirm.
"God, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, his voice rough. “But this ain’t about you. You’re gonna make me feel good first. That’s what you’re here for, right?”
He gripped your hips again, pulling you down harder, his cock pressing right against your entrance. You could feel the thick, throbbing length of him through his jeans, and it only made you ache for more.
Joel’s eyes darkened as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Now, be a good girl and give your old man what he wants.”
You bit your lip, nervous and excited as you reached down, your hands trembling slightly as you brushed over the hardness straining beneath his boxers. His cock was thick and heavy in your hand as you pulled him free, the sight of him, so big and ready, making your mouth water.
Joel let out a low groan as you wrapped your fingers around him, your small hand barely able to take him fully. “That’s it, darlin’. Just like that,” he muttered, his hips jerking up slightly into your hand. “Fuckin’ perfect.”
Joel’s eyes darkened as he watched your small hand wrap around his thick, pulsing length.
The sight of it—his cock heavy and leaking in your grip—made something primal snap inside him.
His rough, calloused hands gripped your thighs tightly, holding you in place as you stroked him slowly, his hips jerking up, desperate for more of your touch.
“That’s it, darlin’. Fuck, you got such a small hand, hm? Barely fits around me,” he groaned, his voice low and filled with lust. His head fell back against the chair for a moment, lips parting as he watched you through hooded eyes.
But then, he shifted, grabbing your chin firmly with one hand and pulling your face closer "Now get on those healthy little knees and serve me."
You quickly followed his command.
“My sweet little obedient thing, hm? I want you to lick it. Clean.”
You hesitated for just a second, your heart racing in your chest, but the hunger in his eyes and the way his grip tightened on your chin had you leaning in closer, feeling his gaze burn into you as you knelt between his legs.
You could feel the heat of his cock against your lips before you even touched him, the scent of him intoxicating, thick with arousal.
Joels eyes were glued to the sight of you, looking so innocent yet holding him like you knew exactly what you were doing to him. His lips curled into a filthy, satisfied grin as he stared down at you, that dangerous gleam in his eye growing darker.
"That’s it, sweetheart," he murmured, voice low and dripping with lust.
"You got those pretty little lips all ready for me, don’t ya? Go on now, give your old man what he’s been waiting for."
You hesitated, your body trembling slightly under the weight of his gaze, but the excitement was undeniable.
You leaned forward slowly, your lips barely brushing against the head of his cock, and Joel growled low in his throat, his fingers threading through your hair, guiding you.
“Not like that,” he grunted, his grip tightening. “I want you to suck it. Get your mouth on me—every inch of it. Don’t be shy, baby. I want you to show me how much you wanna take care of your daddy."
Your breath hitched at his words, the intensity of his voice shooting straight through you. His demand was laced with control, and something deep inside you wanted nothing more than to please him.
You opened your mouth wider, wrapping your lips around the swollen head of his cock, letting your tongue swirl over the salty taste of him.
"Yeah, that's it," he growled approvingly.
"Good girl. Use that fuckin' tongue. I want you to lick me clean, just like that. You know how to treat your daddy’s cock, hm? Been thinkin' about it, haven’t you? Bein' my perfect little slut."
The filthy words spilling from his mouth sent a flush of heat through your body, your thighs pressing together as you sank deeper onto his length.
Joel’s hips bucked up slightly, forcing more of him into your mouth, and you could feel his cock twitching as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him just like he wanted.
“Fuck, you’re so good with that mouth,” he groaned, his head tipping back as he thrust gently into your mouth, watching as your lips stretched around him. "Get it wetter, baby. I wanna see you drool. Let that spit drip down your chin."
You obeyed, sucking harder, letting your saliva coat him until it was dripping from your mouth, soaking his cock. Joel's fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you back for a moment, his cock sliding out of your mouth with a slick, wet sound.
“Look at that mess,” he growled, his voice thick with arousal. "Fuckin’ beautiful. But we ain’t done, darlin'. No, not yet."
He leaned forward slightly, his hand guiding your face closer to his balls.
“Now lick 'em,” he muttered, his voice low and commanding. “I want you to suck on them, baby. Get 'em nice and wet. Go on, clean up every inch of your daddy.”
Your breath caught in your throat at the lewd demand, but you were so far gone, so eager to please, that you didn’t hesitate.
Your tongue flicked out, gently running along the sensitive skin of his balls, and Joel groaned loudly, his body shuddering as you licked and sucked, just like he told you to.
“Good fuckin' girl,” he growled, his voice thick with need.
“You do whatever I tell you, yeah, baby? Such a sweet little thing, always takin' care of me. You know that’s your job, right? To make sure I’m feelin’ real good.”
You nodded, your lips wrapping around one of his balls, sucking gently as you massaged the other with your hand. Joel’s hips jerked slightly, his fingers still tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as he moaned deep in his chest.
"That’s it, baby," he rasped, voice rough. "Suck 'em. Show me how much you wanna be a good girl for your daddy."
Your body was trembling now, the heat between your legs growing unbearable as his filthy praise filled your ears. You sucked harder, letting your tongue swirl around him, your eyes flicking up to meet his.
Joel’s expression was dark, hungry, and the way he looked at you—like you were his to use—made your core clench with need.
He pulled you up suddenly, dragging you onto his lap, your body straddling him, the heat of his cock pressing against your soaked core. His hands gripped your waist tightly, his voice low and menacing as he whispered, "You think you're done, huh? We ain’t even started yet."
His eyes darkened as he looked down between your legs, the slickness of your arousal soaking through your panties. He reached down, his fingers brushing over the damp fabric, and smirked.
"So fuckin' wet already," he muttered. “I bet you’ve been dyin’ for this. You want your daddy to fill that tight little pussy again, hm?”
You whimpered, unable to form words as he pressed his fingers harder against your clit through your panties, teasing you mercilessly. His thumb circled your sensitive spot, making your hips jerk involuntarily, and Joel chuckled darkly.
“Fuckin' needy,” he muttered, pulling your panties to the side, exposing your slick folds. “Look at you, drippin' all over me. You need this cock, yeah, sweet girl?”
You nodded frantically, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you felt the head of his cock nudging against your entrance. Joel grinned, that filthy, perverted grin you had come to crave, and slowly guided you down onto him.
As his thick length stretched you, filling you up inch by inch, he groaned loudly, his hands gripping your hips so tightly it almost hurt.
“That’s it, baby. Take every fuckin' inch. You’re mine. This is what you’re good for.”
His voice was rough, commanding, and it only spurred you on as you rode him, your body bouncing on his cock, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. Joel’s hands never left your body, guiding your movements, pulling you down harder, deeper.
“You feel my cock deep inside, little girl?” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “You’re fuckin' perfect, baby. So fuckin' tight around me. You’re takin' care of your daddy just like you should.”
Joel's grip on your hips was firm, pulling you down onto his cock with a rough, needy pace that made your breath hitch.
His body was tense beneath you, and the way his eyes darkened as they roamed over you—your breasts bouncing, your flushed face—made it clear how much he enjoyed watching you fall apart on top of him.
“Look at you, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice thick with arousal, rough around the edges. “Bouncin' on this old man's cock like you were made for it. You love it, baby? Bet you’ve never had anything like this, huh? Some young boy couldn’t fuck you the way I can. You need a real man, don’t ya? Someone who knows how to handle a sweet little thing like you.”
He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your chest before his mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking it hard while his other hand squeezed the other breast, rough but possessive.
His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, and the sharp mix of pain and pleasure sent jolts of electricity through your body.
“You got these perfect fuckin' tits,” Joel groaned against your skin, his breath hot, words dripping with filth.
“So young, so tight. You know what you're doin' when you wear those little tops around me, don’t ya? Teasin' me with this sweet body, just beggin’ to be fucked.”
Your moans filled the room as Joel’s tongue flicked across your nipple, his hand moving to your clit, his thumb pressing in slow, rough circles as he worked your body in tandem with the deep thrusts of his cock.
You could feel every inch of him stretching you, filling you completely, and it was overwhelming.
"Fuck, you’re so fuckin' tight," Joel grunted, thrusting deeper, his voice a low growl in your ear.
"This old man’s cock is fuckin' you so good, huh? Bet you never thought you’d be so desperate for someone like me. You need this—need me to fuck you the way no one else can. Tell me you love it, baby. Tell me how much you love havin' daddy’s cock inside you."
You gasped, your body shaking as his words only pushed you closer to the edge.
His hand gripping your ass, guiding you down harder, faster, as you rode him, the slick sound of your arousal making his grin widen even more.
He shifted his hips beneath you, hitting that perfect spot inside with every thrust, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped your lips.
Joel’s grip tightened on your hips as he grinned up at you, watching the way your body shook with each rough thrust.
“Goddamn, you’re squeezin' me so tight,” he muttered, his thumb pressing harder on your clit.
“Look at how fuckin' wet you are. You’re drippin' all over me. I bet no one else has ever made you feel like this before, hm? Not like your daddy.”
You couldn’t answer—couldn’t find the words through the haze of pleasure that was overwhelming you.
But Joel didn’t care. He could see it in the way your body responded to him, in the way you moved on top of him, desperate for more.
“That’s it, baby,” he growled, his voice dark and filthy as he thrust up into you, hard and deep. “You’re gonna come for me, little one? Gonna come all over this cock, like the good little girl you are. You love havin' daddy take care of you, love bein' used like this.”
His words sent a shockwave of heat through you, your body trembling as you neared your release. Joel’s thumb circled your clit faster, his cock driving into you with brutal precision, hitting every sensitive spot inside you.
“You’re gonna take every fuckin' inch, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with arousal. “You’re gonna take everything I give you. You want me to fill you up, don’t ya? You want daddy to come inside that tight little pussy.”
You moaned, your body shaking as you rode him harder, the pressure building inside you, every word pushing you closer to the edge. Joel’s grip on your hips was bruising, his breath hot against your ear as he growled, “Tell me you want it. Tell me you want this old man to fill you up.”
“Please, daddy,” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper. “I need it. I need you to come inside me.”
Joel grinned, his eyes dark with satisfaction as his hips slammed up into you, his cock throbbing inside your tight heat. “That’s my girl. You’re fuckin’ perfect, baby. You love this cock. You love bein' filled up by me.”
With one final, deep thrust, Joel buried himself inside you, groaning as his cock twitched, his hot release spilling into you.
His grip on your hips tightened as he came, his breath ragged, his body shaking beneath you. The sensation of him filling you sent you over the edge, your own release crashing through you as your walls clenched around him, moaning as your body trembled, overwhelmed by the intensity of your orgasm.
Joel’s chest rose and fell in heavy, ragged breaths beneath you, his cock still buried deep inside as his hips gave one final lazy thrust, pushing the last of his release deeper into your tight, slick heat. His hands never left your body, sliding from your hips up your sides, gripping you possessively, like he couldn’t get enough of the feel of you wrapped around him.
“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction, low and raspy in your ear. “Took it all inside, hm? So fuckin’ good for me. You were made for this—made to take every bit of me.”
He leaned back in the chair, eyes dark and hazy as he looked up at you, still straddling him, your body trembling slightly from the intensity of what just happened.
His rough hands slid up to your breasts again, squeezing them possessively, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he let out a low, satisfied grunt.
“You feel that, darlin’?” Joel whispered, his breath still hot against your neck, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re full of me now, all stuffed with my cum. That’s what you wanted, huh? Bein' filled up by your old man, just like a good girl.”
You shuddered slightly, his words sending a lingering spark through your body. It wasn’t just the way he took you—it was the way he owned you with every filthy word, every possessive touch.
And even now, after everything, he wasn’t letting you go. His hands continued to roam your body, lazy and deliberate, as if reminding you that you were his.
Joel chuckled lowly, almost smug, the sound vibrating through his chest as his fingers trailed up your spine, making you shiver.
“You do your Job so well, darlin’,” he said, voice filled with dark satisfaction, like he was proud of you, like you’d done exactly what you were meant to.
“Gotta say, this old man didn’t think he had it in him anymore. But fuck, you make me feel like a man again. Ain't no one else who could take care of me like you do.”
His fingers traced idle patterns over your skin as he kept you close, his cock still warm and softening inside you. He grinned, looking you up and down, his eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of knowing how much control he had over you.
“You thought you were just gonna come here and help me out, take care of the house, huh?” Joel’s voice was teasing now, low and gravelly.
“But you’ve been takin' care of me in ways no one else could. Every time I see you, I wanna fuck you. Can’t help it, baby. You’ve got me fuckin' addicted.”
You shifted on top of him, still feeling the heat between your legs, the mess of him inside you, and you let out a soft whimper as his cock twitched in response.
Joel chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your ass firmly, pulling you down against him again, keeping you pressed tight against his body.
“You ain’t goin' anywhere,” he muttered, his tone possessive. “You belong to me. You know that, right? There’s no one else who’s gonna fuck you like this, make you feel like this.”
His words hung in the air, thick and heavy, and you knew he meant them.
Joel wasn’t just some old man you were assigned to look after anymore—he’d taken something from you, claimed you, and now you were his in every sense of the word.
He grinned up at you, his eyes still filled with that dark hunger, even after everything. His hands slid up to your waist again, pulling you down for another lazy grind, his cock still nestled inside you.
The sensation made your body tremble again, and Joel noticed, his grin widening.
“You keep takin' care of me like this, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low rasp.
“And I’ll make sure you’re never wantin’ for anything else. You’ll always have me to fuck you, fill you up just like you need. You like that, don’t ya? Bein’ mine, lettin’ me use this tight young little body whenever I want.”
You nodded weakly, still trying to catch your breath, your body pliant under his grip. He chuckled again, a deep, satisfied sound that made your core clench around him, even as you sat there, exhausted from the intensity of it all.
“That’s my good girl,” Joel whispered, his voice a low growl. “Always doin' what you’re told. Now, you keep sittin' on daddy’s cock for a while longer. Let me enjoy how fuckin' perfect you feel.”
And so you stayed there, Joel’s hands still possessive on your body, his cock still nestled inside you as the minutes passed.
You knew this was how things were going to be for a while—him using you whenever he wanted, taking what he needed. But the truth was, you couldn’t get enough of it either.
The way he made you feel, the filthy dominance in his voice, the way his rough hands claimed every inch of you—it was intoxicating.
You were hooked, just like him.
You shifted on his lap, your breath finally steadying as the intensity of the moment began to settle. But even as your body started to relax, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Joel’s hands still possessively gripping your waist, holding you there, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
A small, teasing smile tugged at your lips as you looked down at him, his cock still buried inside you, the heat of his body pressing against yours.
“You might like keeping me here all day, old man,” you murmured, your voice soft but playful, “but now I need to get up, cook, and get you your meds.”
Joel raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk spreading across his face. “My meds, huh?” he muttered, clearly amused, his voice still gravelly and low. “Hell, I think this right here’s better than any meds they could give me.”
His hands tightened on your hips for a moment, pulling you down one last time, making sure you felt the last bit of his cock buried deep before he finally let you move.
“But go on, sweetheart,” he said, his tone a mix of teasing and command. “You do what you gotta do. I’ll be right here, waitin’ for you to come back and take care of me again.”
You rolled your eyes, gently pushing yourself off his lap, feeling the mess of him still inside you as you stood up. As you turned to head toward the kitchen, Joel's hand shot out and smacked your ass, hard enough to make you yelp in surprise.
The sharp sound of his palm connecting with your skin echoed through the room, making your breath hitch, and you couldn’t help but grin, your body responding despite yourself.
“Still fuckin' got it, don’t I, sweet girl?” Joel growled, his smirk widening as his eyes roamed over your body while you walked away, his gaze dark and lingering.
“And don’t take too long, darlin’. I plan to have that sweet pussy on my tongue ‘til I pass out.”
You glanced over your shoulder, flashing him a playful smirk, your hips swaying a little more, knowing he was watching every move.
“You’ll survive a few minutes, won’t you? You are still the strong, stubborn old man you claim to be.”
Joel chuckled, low and rough, leaning back in his chair, the smug look on his face unwavering. “Yeah, yeah. Get that pretty little ass in the kitchen. But you keep me waitin’ too long…” His voice dropped to a dangerous murmur.
“And I’ll be comin’ after you to drag you back here myself.”
You could feel Joel’s eyes on you the entire time as you walked away, that smoldering, hungry gaze burning into your back.
The heat between you two was almost unbearable, thick and heavy, making every step feel slower than it should.
Joel might be older, but the way he looked at you, the way he commanded every moment, made it clear that age hadn’t dulled his hunger—especially when it came to you.
And you knew exactly what he wanted.
Hell, you didn’t even need his words to know. He had a taste for you, an obsession he couldn’t shake. It was the same routine nearly every night.
He’d pull you into his lap, his strong hands gripping your thighs, his voice a low growl as he told you to strip down because he wasn’t going to bed until he had your sweet cunt on his tongue.
You’d try to get things done around the house, but it was useless. Joel was insatiable.
“Come here, darlin’,” he’d say, like clockwork, his lips curling into that filthy grin.
“You know I’m not sleepin’ till I’ve had my fill.” And before you could even respond, his mouth would be on you, licking and sucking until your body shook with pleasure, his deep moans vibrating against your sensitive skin.
Just last night, you had barely made it through the doorway when he had pulled you to the bed, laying you down and spreading your legs before you could even catch your breath. "Goddamn, baby," he’d muttered between long, slow licks, "I’ll never get enough of this pussy."
And he hadn’t stopped until you were trembling, spent, your fingers gripping his hair as he kept going, like he couldn’t pull himself away.
You knew tonight would be no different. His need for you was constant, his desire always burning just below the surface.
And, truth be told, you loved it. The way he made you feel—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—had you hurrying to get back to him.
You craved the way he devoured you, the way he worshipped you with his mouth, as much as he craved you.
As you finished up in the kitchen, your heart pounded with anticipation. You knew Joel was waiting, his eyes still lingering on the thought of burying his face between your thighs.
You hurried, eager to crawl back into his lap, knowing exactly what was coming next—his rough, possessive hands and that filthy mouth, reminding you again just how much he couldn’t get enough of you.
And, if you were being honest, you craved it just as much—craved the way he claimed every inch of you with his cock, fingers or mouth - making you feel like you were the only thing that could ever satisfy him.
Your favorite old pervert.
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
I fear.... I want him biblically....
I`d LOVE to write many dirty scenes with these two, would y'all like that?
Stay tuned - thank you so much for reading and I would love to read your opinions!!
xoxo
#pervert!joelmiller#perverted!joelmiller#joel miller fanfiction#dark joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x oc#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller fan fic#the last of us#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#Joel Miller smut#Joel Miller#Joel Miller fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#the last of us hbo#the last of us smut#tlou smut#tlou fanfic#smut
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One of the things I like most about Kaos is how...different the characters are compared to how they're viewed in mythology. I've seen some people complain about it, but I'm pretty sure they were written this way 100% on purpose to hammer in the theme of defiance.
We're introduced to Dionysus being the wild child of the gods, but do you know what we barely see him with? WINE! ALCOHOL! DRUGS! NOTHING! He actually acts as a caretaker for Dennis for most of the show, and his motivation for doing everything is to take on MORE RESPONSIBILITY! And yet, responsibility and proving yourself doesn't seem like something the god of wild frenzy would give a fuck about.
Hera....the mother fucking queen of the gods...aka THE GODDESS OF WOMEN, MARRIAGE, AND FAMILY is having an affair (I know they all have affairs in mythology, but it's more about what's happening in the context of this show), and instead of jumping on the "we need to preserve the family" bandwagon with Zeus immediately, she's actively trying to get him to calm down and forget about the prophecy that will destroy the family! Not to mention, she's got an army of tongueless women who were willing to be separated from their families to serve her.
Hades, who is usually painted as an intimidating, stoic god of the dead who hates Zeus....is actually a tired, anxious middle management type who ends up rolling over for Zeus in the pool scene.
And don't get me started on Orpheus and Eurydice.
The only one who seems like his usual self is Zeus. He's still the same power hungry, malevolent, self-centered, king of the gods. And yet, the harder he tries to defy his prophecy, the more likely it is to come to fruition.
#kaos#kaos netflix#it's funny to me that this is something people complain about when I think it's an interesting take
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˚ ༘♡ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦
― the moment in which the seventeen members find out their significant other hid their injury from them

s.coups
first of all - the chance of cheol not knowing you got hurt is this big 🤏🏻 mans somehow knows everything when it comes to you, even if he’s overseas he. still. knows. he would be… i don’t want to say disappointed in you not telling him, because you’re still your own person and he cannot tell you what to do, but… he just cares about you so much, truly. the thought of you hurt or in pain without him knowing is heartbreaking to cheol. he’s a caretaker through and through, especially for his significant other - there’s nothing seungcheol wouldn’t do for them. at the same time, though, he feels so proud to have a partner that is so strong.
jeonghan
the second he finds out you got hurt or injured jeonghan becomes quite passive aggressive. he’s not necessarily angry with you, it’s just that… what wouldn’t you tell him? he’s your boyfriend, he’s supposed to be next to you and care for you when you need it. you do the same for him, so why would you push him away? hannie understands that sometimes you just need your space, and everyone is different when it comes to being sick and in pain, but he’d still be a bit hurt by you not telling him. at the end of the day, he’d try to talk to you, though, and explain why it was so important to him to know.
joshua
it’s not that he’s angry, more like disappointed (all that disappointment, though, doesn’t come from pettiness or anger, but care and love). he gets that people react differently to getting injured, but still - he’s your boyfriend, and a boyfriend that cares a lot at that. shua always respects all of your decisions, no matter what, but when you get hurt and don’t tell him… you might not see it as important enough, but to him, your well-being and comfort is all that matters. he can’t imagine how you must’ve felt going through all of that alone, and yes, he gets that that was what you wanted, but still.
jun
tries his best not to show how it affects him, when he finds out about your injury, but fails miserably. jun is a bit disappointed that you didn’t tell him first things first, because he’d be more than happy to take care of you (and he’d have the perfect opportunity to be extra clingy). would be unusually pouty and whiny after, waddling after you at any given moment and asking you “why? why didn’t you tell him?”. was it because you didn’t trust him and his caretaker abilities, did you think it wasn’t big enough of a deal to tell him about, or maybe you saw your injury as a burden? he needs to know or else he won’t be able to fall asleep.
hoshi
you don’t want to keep something as serious as an injury from soonyoung, because the second he finds out you got hurt AND didn’t think about telling him, he gives you the silent treatment + becomes so hard to deal with. he can be petty when he’s in a good mood, so imagine how he’d be behaving after finding out. hoshi gets so frustrated because why wouldn’t you tell him? it’s a whole ass injury, not a scratch, there’s nothing that could excuse you from not telling him. he’s aware he’s not the best with taking care of injuries, but that doesn’t matter he wouldn't do his absolute best. just… tell him next time.
wonwoo
he can feel his eye twitch when he finds out about your injury. it gets even worse when you tell him it wasn’t that big of a deal and he shouldn't worry. immediate game over for jeon wonwoo. you might think he wouldn’t get as annoyed by it as other members who are more outwardly affectionate… WRONG + he doesn’t consider himself the overprotective type, ALSO WRONG. wonwoo is a man who lives for you and your comfort even if he doesn’t see that himself, so the fact that you didn’t bother to tell him about something as big as an literal injury??? JAIL!!! will cross his arms and stump his feet to make a point.
woozi
he understands that for you it might be a small thing, your injury, that you don't see it as something important enough to tell him about, but… it’d still kind of hurt jihoon if you didn’t tell him? like, on one hand he’s so enchanted by you because you're so independent and strong and willing to go through your pain alone, but on second he’s your boyfriend. he might not be the most obvious with how he shows his love and physical touch and outward words of affirmation, but he still cares. a lot. he wants to take care of you, he wants to keep you warm and as comfy as he can, so please don’t brush off matters like that.
dk
at first he’s very confused when he finds out that you got injured, because that can’t be true, right? you’d immediately tell him if you got hurt, 100%. but when seokmin realises that your injury was not a cruel joke he nearly cries. why, why on earth wouldn’t you tell him? and it crushes him so much - you, in pain, without him by your side to hold your hand through it all. he’s quite a mess afterwards, trying to gather his emotions. because he has to get through to you and try to explain how much it hurt him that you didn’t tell him. even if you refuse his help, he just needs to know, that’s all.
mingyu
there’s a hit of annoyance in gyu when he finds out that you got hurt and didn’t tell him. like… you’re well aware of how big of a caretaker mingyu is, and how important acts of service are for him, and yet you decide to hide the injury from him. why? he understands that a part of you might think of yourself as a burden, but he has told you numerous times how happy it makes him when you ask him for help, even with the smallest things. but you’re still pushing him away? it’s just - it’s so gut wrenching when he finds out that you had to suffer on your own and he didn’t know.
the8
huh, so you don’t believe in his healing abilities? hao becomes extremely petty, because no one’s better at being a certified nurse than him (not even a real nurse), and with you not telling him he feels like you don’t trust him enough to take care of you properly. he genuinely likes to take care of his loved ones, he doesn’t mind being the housewife, and he definitely doesn't think you’re a burden because of your injury, so why would you hide it? after he finds out he sits you down and has a talk with you - hao tries to explain his point of view and how it made him feel when you didn’t tell him, and why you shouldn’t hide things like that from him.
seungkwan
gets so so so petty, oh my god. huh, so you, his girlfriend, didn’t tell him, your boyfriend, you got hurt? you just didn’t? yeah, not on boo seungkwan’s watch. why on earth wouldn’t you call him first things first? he’s your literal boyfriend, it’s his duty and privilege to take care of you, keep you warm and loved, no matter what. and he doesn’t want to hear that “but i don’t want to be a burden” shit, because you. are. not. and you could never be one. so you’re trying to tell him you were hurt and alone while he was living his best life? he’d make sure to talk to you and make you swear you’d tell him next time a situation like that would occur.
vernon
on one hand he understands that you might not see the injury as something big enough to tell him, like - he has gotten hurt in the past and didn’t tell you either, but… it’d be nice if you did. vernon is not sure why he’s bothered by you not telling him, usually he’s very okay with most of your decisions, but a part of him is scared that the reason you hid the injury is because of you thinking he won’t care. yes, he might not be the best at taking care of people and prefers being the one taken care of, but you’re his partner and vernon will do anything he can to take the best care of you.
dino
his heart drops when he finds out you got injured and didn’t tell him. chan thrives on helping and taking care of his loved ones, he doesn’t care if he has to pull another all nighter just to make someone else happy - he does it with great joy. so when his partner, the apple of his eye, hides their injury from him? it hurts. it hurts deeply. there’s a part of him that feels betrayed, and he cannot help but think if you don’t trust him enough to care for you when you’re in need. chan knows that those thoughts and his reaction are a bit dramatic, but it’s the caretaker in him that just cannot live it down.
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#seventeen#seventeen imagines#seventeen x you#seventeen x reader#seventeen reactions#svt reactions#seventeen kpop#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#seventeen carat#seventeen reaction#seventeen requests#seungcheol#jeonghan#joshua#woozi#wen junhui#wonwoo#vernon#svt#seungkwan#dino#svt woozi#mingyu#minghao#hoshi#chwe vernon
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A couple of things that I love and appreciate about Sylus ♡
His genuine respect for MC and her capabilities. He knows she's a badass and a formidable fighter, and that she can handle herself. And he is proud of her strength and her independent spirit, even as he adores spoiling and caring for her. He treats her as both a Queen and as a Princess. But never as a damsel in distress.
How much MC's consent and autonomy matter to him. In his own way he is for sure possessive of her. However he is not a "You're mine" type of guy, but rather 1000% a "I want you to want to be mine" one. And also simultaneously a "I want to be yours" kind of man. Which is so hot of him.
He does get jealous, yet he never channels that jealousy at the other party, but instead focuses on himself and what he can do to up his game. He desires to be the only one in MC's eyes, yes, but he wants to be worthy of it. It's not something he feels inherently entitled to. He strives hard to be the best he can be for her.
His respect for and interest in different cultures and their customs, as best seen in Lost Oasis and Grassland Romance.
The fact that he is a polyglot, fluent in so many languages that he doesn't keep count. We love big brained men (he is also a programmer and a hacker ☺️).
His caretaking tendencies, which do extend beyond MC even if not to the same extent (ie the twins, the kid in No Way Out, the stray cats, the injured dove, the lost duck, the plants in his bedroom).
That he never raises his voice even in anger. Which for me, being someone that gets triggered by yelling and shouting, is such a comfort to know and brings me real inner peace. I am so happy that MC won't ever have to suffer an explosive or volatile man, but is with a controlled and emotionally stable one. The closest we ever do get to him raising his voice is his "Look out!" when MC is in danger during battle, and that doesn't come from a place of aggression, but from raw alarm. And I genuinely believe that that is as far as it will ever go.
The fact that he is an unbothered king. He sings out of tune, you say? Your problem, not his. He will do what he loves doing, regardless of what others think.
His willingness to indulge MC and her playful side. This hulking 6 foot something notorious crime lord and planet conqueror with a bounty of nine hundred ninety million on his head will happily join MC in any game she wishes to play, be it hide and seek or chasing or kitty cards, and he will do so unhesitatingly.
In a similar vein, how secure and healthy he is in his masculinity. He will gladly braid MCs hair and make her flower crowns, bake cupcakes and buy her pads and tampons, will let her dress him up in bows and bonnets and other traditionally feminine accesories. He is also unafraid to be soft and even vulnerable with her. (For this and other reasons he'd be an excellent girl dad).
The way he expresses his love not just by his poetic words but by truly listening to MC and by offering unwavering, unconditional support (his affinity 94 phonecall being a prime example). And not to mention in the mere way he looks at MC, and in the way he craves physical contact, how he loves entwining their fingers or carrying her any chance he gets. Other love languages of his are acts of service and of course quality time.
His "Ha 💸 Ha 💰 Ha 💎 [Inhale]" laugh. Scrumptious. The only rich guy laugh I adore.
His voice. Full stop.
His nose, especially the bump. Eighth wonder of the world.
His cupid's bow. Ninth wonder of the world.
#the way i consider this just a couple of things dhdjfj#but it's true#might even have to make a part 2 someday#sylus#lads sylus#love and deepspace sylus#sylus lads#sylus love and deepspace#sylus x mc#sylusmc#love and deepspace#lads
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