#I mean his first impression when his face wasn't revealed wasn't even that good | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hanjsquokka · 3 months

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MILF Next Door - [ Han Jisung ]

🐿 SYNOPSIS : Jisung gets a new neighbor and he's completely head over heels. Love at first sight — in his opinion. And he's not going to let an adorable three year old get in the way of true love.

GENRE : strangers to potential lovers, light fluff, smut

PAIRING : neighbor! jisung × fem! single mom reader

CONTENT WARNING : perv! jisung, jisung is a simp and he's horny, mature language, mentions divorce (not between jisung and reader), single parenting, (smut warnings under the cut)

WORD COUNT : 4.5K

AUTHOR'S NOTE : this is just trash tbh but here we go

minors dni. if you click read, you agree to nsfw content

SMUT WARNING : sub leaning jisung, slightly dom reader, oral (m receiving), riding, nicknames (good boy, baby, etc.), jisung has thing for moms, orgasm denial, piv, unprotected sex (pls don't do this)

Jisung was curious — to say the least. He was working on producing a song for his friend Changbin (honestly one of the best rappers Jisung had ever met) when he heard loud thumps from the corridor outside and the apartment next door. He heard a lot of shuffling — thanks to the wonderfully thin walls, and it was safe to say that he had gotten a new neighbor. He'd been trying to get a peek at them, in a completely friendly way obviously, but they seemed really private or they went out a lot. He was just about to assume that it was probably another working adult when one day, he was on the balcony in the morning for some fresh air. He'd been working the whole night and desperately needed to inhale something that wasn't carbon dioxide.

Which was when he spotted... you. You were putting some pots in your balcony, maybe for a few plants. Who was this beauty and why have I never seen her before? You looked pretty. Far too pretty for Jisung to stop staring at you like a literal creep. Thankfully the microwave started beeping loudly, so he had to go back inside and save his re-heated dinner from going cold. When he went back out again, you were gone. All that was left, were a few empty pots and packets of seeds.

I have to see her again.

Jisung not to secretly tried to get another look at his new neighbor, trying to determine when you would go out so he could casually bump into you and say hi. It was highly unlikely you were still single — who would not fall for a pretty girl like that? But he had to try.

After a week, he gave up. Maybe you just wanted to be left alone. He was returning home late one day, tired from his long day at the recording studio with Changbin who was not satisfied even after twenty retakes of the same verse. He was so tired, his vision was blurry and he bumped his foot loudly against the door. "Shit!" He cursed, wincing as he tried to step back. He was just about done with everything when the door next door opened, revealing the insanely pretty girl with concern masking your features. You were wearing pajamas, some part of his brain noted, pajamas with squirrels on them. Why did that make make him feel things?

Great going Jisung. Amazing first impression.

"Sorry, I heard some loud noises — are you okay?" You asked. You pushed away the hair covering your eyes. He took in more of your features. Your wispy bangs, your almost black eyes, your nose, the pink in your cheeks and your lips. Oh god. He could feel all sorts of wild thoughts running through his mind. Most of which were not child friendly.

Jisung couldn't look away. "Yeah. Yeah I'm good. Thank you." He said, mustering a smile to match the one forming on your face. I'm doomed. "You're new... right? I'm Jisung. Han Jisung." Nice save dork.

"Y/n. I've been meaning to introduce myself. I've just been busy and —"

You never had time to finish your sentence because a kid appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes and clinging onto your leg. What the — "Mama..."

"Sorry baby, did I wake you up?" You asked softly, picking up the kid in your arms. Jisung's heart was plummeting. No way. No fucking way — "I was just saying to the nice man next door. Say hi." The little boy waved cutely.

Jisung returned the gesture, too stunned to speak. "Is he your...."

"Huh? Yeah —" Your face broke into another huge grin. "This is my son, Sunghwan." The sleepy kid perked up at the mention of his name before starting to doze off again on your shoulder. "I should put him back to sleep. It was nice meeting you Jisung." You bowed and went back inside your house, closing the door behind her, leaving Jisung in a state of utter shock and confusion.

The pretty (sexy) girl next door was not only taken, but you were married and had a kid. Why did the universe like toying with his heart so much? Jisung went inside his own house, closing the door with a grumpy face. He really got too ahead of himself, didn't he?

A few days later, he ran into the pretty married girl with an adorable kid at the supermarket. Well — he ran into your adorable kid first. Jisung was piling up on snacks since he needed the sugar, when he spotted a small child trying to hold onto candy bars and grab more from the shelves. Upon getting a closer look, he noticed it was the kid from next door! He couldn't just leave the little boy, now could he? Not when he knew him. He had to take responsibility as a neighbor and a decent dude to bring him back to his mom.

So he approached the kid. "Hey little guy, where's your mom?" He asked, crouching down to his height. He really was cute (just like his mom).

"She buying vegetables. Bleh." The kid made a disgusted face, making Jisung laugh.

"You don't like vegetables?"

"No. They gross. I like candy!" He said excitedly, holding up the goodies that he piled in his small hands.

"Okay then, what about your dad?"

"Dada sees me every Fri-day.” He said carefully. “Only Mama here.” He looked around in confusion. “Mama?”

Jisung was still caught on the sentence about his dad. He sees him every Friday? That sounded a lot like… those child custody things he saw on TV. "Okay little guy, let's go find your mom first. She must be worried." He held out his hand. "My name is Jisung." He offered a smile.

"Ji-sung?" The kid held onto his hand. Jisung began leading them down the aisles. "I'm Sung-hwan! Sunghwan!" He said with a giggle. Aw man he's so cute.

"Sunghwan huh? That's a nice name." Jisung noted as he looked around for you. He soon found you near the cereals, looking worried. "Aha, we found her!" He took a very long glance at your figure and had a few seconds to fantasize over her long legs before Sunghwan shouted.

"Mama!"

You snapped your head in their direction, relief washing over your face as you knelt down so the kid could run into your arms. "Sunghwan! How many times have I told you to not run off like that!" You chided, but you held onto him tightly. You stood up, your gaze meeting Jisung's. A smile formed on your face. "Jisung, right? I can't thank you enough! I looked away for two seconds and he was gone and—"

"It's alright." Jisung brushed it off, but his heart was going crazy inside his chest. She's smiling at me and she's talking to me! "I found him in the candy aisle. Little man has taste."

You looked at kid, who had an innocent look on his face. You shook your head. "I should've known. But anyways, thank you." You held Jisung's hand to shake it. Holy moly.

"It's okay. Really." He said, a huge smile on his face. "Do you need some help?" He asked, looking at the shopping cart that was full of groceries.

"No, no, it's okay —"

"No, I could help, seriously. You look like you have a lot on your hands already." Jisung said, looking at the kid was trying to pick up a box of cereal from the shopping cart. "I live next door, it really isn't an issue.”

“Honestly, that would be really helpful.”.

"No worries." Jisung said casually.

Which was how he found himself in the apartment next door, setting down the bags of groceries in the kitchen. The house was neat — except there were toys everywhere. Sunghwan was way more than thrilled to show Jisung each and every one of them. He even began narrating the story of why his Mickey Mouse stuffed toy had a bandage (bad encounter with a dog at the park) which made Jisung laugh. He would've loved to spend the whole day there, if he didn't get a call from Changbin.

"Oh, that's work. I gotta go." He said, standing up.

"Thank you again, Jisung." You said, coming out of the kitchen.

"I told you, it's okay." He chuckled. "I like helping people out."

"Jisungie, you have to come back and play with me, okay?" Sunghwan had gotten up from his place and was now holding onto the fabric of his jeans. It was adorable. "I no show my Legos." He pouted. This kid was pulling at his heartstrings.

"I mean, if it's okay with your mom…” He tried off, meeting your eyes. Please say yes.

"Of course you can." You nodded with another one of those bright smiles.

"Yay!" Sunghwan jumped around.

"Say bye, Sung." You told the kid, who waved brightly.

"Bye Sunghwan. And you too Y/n. You can call me if you ever need anything." Jisung told you, putting his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you guys later." He saw himself out and back to his own house. That kid was the ticket to get close to you. You're single (as far as he understood), which means he was doing no wrong. Besides, moms are super sexy (she was an absolute milf). God, he was getting too excited. He grabbed his things and headed to the recording studio.

Safe to say the Jisung was absolutely fucked. He was goner the day he saw you dressed up in a dress that was too short for his mental wellbeing. It was supposed to be a normal day. He started babysitting Sunghwan quite often because you had job interviews packed for the whole week. Since he loved you oh so much, the second he swung open to the door to meet your nervous face, asking him if he could watch Sunghwan for a while.

Truth be told — Jisung didn't exactly hear what you said. He'd known you for a month and he was already down so so bad. He only saw your pretty lips moving, the way you fiddled with your fingers as you tried to explain it to him. But Jisung. Oh god. He just stared at you like a lovesick fool and immediately nodded to save his ass when you finished speaking.

Which was how he found himself in his apartment the next day with Sunghwan and his Legos spread out across the living room. Jisung had to work on this track for Changbin and he also had to watch the kid so he decided to multitask. I mean, how hard could it be to take care of a three year old?

Jisung found out his answer within five minutes when said three year old completely trashed his house with Legos. He couldn't walk two feet without stepping on one of the bricks, making him bite his lip in pain so he wouldn't let out a yelp.

“I'm just going to let myself in!” The second day of baby-sitting, Changbin just appeared in his apartment for no reason. This was probably the worst possible situation is overly loud friend could've walked into. Jisung could practically see his face morph into confusion, his eyes widening and his jaw dropped. “Since when do you have a kid?” He asked loudly. Even a deaf person could hear him at this point. “When did you get laid bro? You've been bitchless —”

“Okay!” Jisung cut him off, covering Sunghwan's ears. “Let's not use colorful language when there is a child present.” Only after Changbin muttered a half-hearted sorry did Jisung uncover the kid's ears. “He's my neighbor's kid —”

“You knocked up your neighbor?—”

“Will you please shut the fuc — shut up please?” Jisung took a deep breath. “I'm baby-sitting. His mom has job interviews and she asked for help and I couldn't say no. The kid's too cute.” He shrugged. Just thinking about you made a small blush creep up on his face, his ears turning red. He's never been down so bad for a person before like this.

“Holy shit —” Changbin completely ignored the don't curse there's a fucking child in front of you warning. “You like his mom.” He mouthed the last two words. Guess he didn't trade all of his brain cells for those muscles. “I should've known you actually had a thing for older woman when you brought up —”

“Enough of my embarrassing past and just get on with why you're here.” Jisung was not going to relive his teenage embarrassments. He'd done some things he's not so proud of and Changbin took every chance to make sure he never forgot them.

His friend left a while later. You texted saying that you would be home in a few. He took Sunghwan back to your house after cleaning up all the toys in his. All was well.

But everything turned topsy-turvy the second he saw you entering the house with that purple dress you wore for your job interview. It stopped just where Jisung's imagination started to wander down the gutter. It hugged your curves perfectly and accentuated your boobs so well that it made him dizzy.

"How'd it go?" He asked you once you sat down on the couch near him, playing Legos with Sunghwan, who was absorbed in his kids show playing on the TV. Jisung was sitting on the floor, so your bare knees were brushing against his shoulder, creating waves of tingles over him.

"It went pretty well." You answered, moving those magenta stained lips of yours. I wonder what it would feel like wrapped around my cock. Jisung had to mentally slap himself. Whatever sexual attraction he had to you was not disappearing in anyway — if anything, it increased every second he spent in your presence. For some reason, everything you did turned him on. The past few weeks ended in cold showers every day to calm himself down. "You're spacing out. Have something on your mind?"

Yeah, you. "Nah, I was just thinking about this song I was working on for my friend." Nice save. "The beat isn't perfect, you know? I've been tweaking it for days, maybe I should just let it be."

He saw you put your hand on your chin to think. "Well, I don't know much about music but maybe you need a fresh perspective? I think I read that somewhere. Something about not working on it for a while...."

"That... makes sense." He nodded slowly. "Maybe I just need some fresh air, you know?"

Sunghwan perked up at that. He jumped onto Jisung, a big, goofy smile on his face. Jisung found himself seeing you in the kid. His smile, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled at the edges when he was happy — he was almost exactly like you.

"Jisungie! Park!" He exclaimed with a giggle. "Let's go to park!"

"A park? Now? Maybe tomorrow bud, your mom's probably tired."

"Yeah Sung, we'll go tomorrow. I promise." You ruffled the kid's hair.

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise." You repeated with a laugh. Sunghwan went back to playing with his Legos. "By the way Jisung, if you're free on Friday, you wanna go watch a movie?"

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah I'd be down." He nodded absent-mindedly, watching the boy run around the room with a Lego car.

"Great." You gave him another one of those smiles before walking to her bedroom. Jisung's eyes were on your ass as you disappeared from the corridor. Wait a minute. Sunghwan will be with his dad on Friday, right? Did you just... ask him out?

"What did mommy say?" Sunghwan asked Jisung.

"Mommies are confusing." He said. "But sexy."

"Sixy?" The kid repeated.

"No — no not sixy! Uh, uh —" Jisung panicked. "Hey, I found this Lego set on Amazon and I thought you'd like it." He quickly whipped out his phone to show him to take his mind off of what he said. God forbid you found that he was talking about how you looked in front of your own kid.

That night after going back to his apartment, he laid in bed, his cock in his hands as he stroked himself to the thought of you. Unconsciously moaning your name loudly (maybe a bit too loud) as he imagined you there, jerking him off with your soft hands and that fuckable face with your big eyes, your lips wrapped around him as you took him in whole — yeah, he came pretty hard after that.

Friday took way longer than Jisung wanted. He was antsy the entire morning in the studio, leg bouncing as he sat on the chair while Changbin recorded in the booth. He was so out of it, he didn't hear his friend calling him thrice from outside the little room until Changbin smacked the back of his head which momentarily brought Jisung out of his dreamland.

How could he focus? When he was just a few hours away from spending an evening with you? Only you? He loved Sunghwan, don't get him wrong but going to a movie together and getting dinner afterwards and maybe — just maybe Jisung could spit out the words he'd been holding hostage inside his mouth ever since he first laid eyes on you. Dear Y/n, I've liked you since the second I saw you in your balcony and I was hoping you could rail me —

The second he got home, he took a shower, brushed his teeth again, and spent twenty minutes trying to decide what he should wear. A suit was too over the top and a normal t-shirt and jeans would look like he didn't care. He had to look cool but interested. In the end he opted for a plain black shirt over his loose jeans. He styled his dark hair with a part in the middle and sprayed some cologne on.

Two mental breakdowns later, he was standing in front of the movie theater where you told him you'd meet him. He tried to act all nonchalant but he was slowly losing his mind as he stood there like a loser (it was for ten minutes).

When you finally arrived, he swore his heart stopped beating for a good few seconds as his eyes raked over your little top that dipped low in the front. Did you do it on purpose? Did you know the way his heart started to a marathon every time he looked at you? How the fuck was he supposed to pay attention to a movie when you were dressed like that?

“Sorry I'm late. Dropping Sunghwan off took a little longer than expected.” You adjusted the strap of your handbag which was resting on your shoulder.

“I just got here too. It's okay.” Jisung played it off coolly. It was all worth seeing that smile on your face. He took a moment to mentally note that he also liked the subtle pink lipstick you wore today, but his favorite had to be that magenta color. Just imagining himself stained in your kisses — his face, his chest, his d —

Han Jisung almost publicly humiliated himself for the nth time this month.

The movie was fine. It was some romcom that you liked. His attention was more on you. Your reactions to everything, the way your eyes sparkled as you pointed to the screen, the way your eyes turned into crescents as you laughed at whatever corny ass jokes Jisung made that weren't even that funny.

Dinner… Dinner was far more difficult. He could barely pay any attention to what you were saying. He was more focused on your fingers and your freshly painted magenta nails. Magenta was going to be his fucking end. He could barely keep himself from imagining how good those freshly manicured hands would look wrapped around his cock. Oh god, he was getting hard again. He was only snapped out of his thoughts when you said, “You want to go home?”

“Huh?”

“You look tired. And I'm probably boring you —”

“No, no — never.” Jisung shook his head.

“Then what's wrong Jisung?”

Fuck it, he couldn't take it anymore. “I like you Y/n.” Silence. The silence after that was killing him. He swallowed hard and took a big gulp of water as his face turned redder than red.

“Well I know that. Why do you think I invited you out on a date?”

Every time Jisung believed he couldn't be more surprised, you just had to go and prove him wrong. “What?” He breathed out.

“I know you like me. You're not very secretive about it.” You chuckled, twisted the pasta in your plate onto your fork. “I like you a lot too.” What the actual fuck? “I never thought I'd like someone so fast after… everything. But you proved me wrong.” You shrugged. “But my real question is… do you jerk off to me every night?”

That's it. Jisung knew the thin walls of his apartment would come back to bite him someday in the future. He was betrayed by his own house. He was absolutely mortified you heard him fisting himself to you. He turned impossibly more red. He could barely stutter out a response but he stopped when he saw that teasing smile on your face.

“It's a good thing I feel the same way.”

The cab ride home was torture. Not only did you like him. But you wanted to fuck him too? And it definitely did not help whatsoever that you hand rested on his thigh and slowly inched upward, agonizingly slow towards the obvious tent in his pants. His dick was so hard it hurt in the confines of his pants. He bit down on his lip so hard when you brushed over his bones and then started to palm him through the fabric. Oh fucking hell… You were teasing him. He could see that smirk on your face as he almost whined when you pulled away because the cab stopped.

The second you stepped foot in his apartment, he pushed you against the wall next to the door and smashed his lips against yours. Hungry and needy. He pressed his body against yours, pulling you along to his bedroom (how he got there, he had no clue). His hands were everywhere. Touching and caressing every part of you. Your hair, your waist, your ass — it was heaven. You threaded your fingers through his fingers, lightly tugging at the strands. It was enough to elicit a soft moan from him, muffled by the kiss.

“Tell me Jisung…” You said quietly as you pulled away from him. “What did you imagine about me?” You pushed him onto the bed and as you got on your knees. He lifted his hips as you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, releasing his dick. It was red and stained with precum and so hard.

But you didn't do anything. “Please.” He whimpered. “Do something.” You smiled at him deviously before beginning to stroke him at a slow pace. Too slow. “F-Fuck.” He threw his head back with a groan. You were barely doing anything and he was so far gone. You carefully took him into your mouth, inch by inch. Your mouth was warm, your plush lips wrapped around his cock was making him lose his mind. He wanted to grab your hair and fuck your throat but he couldn't move his body. It was like he was frozen, only able to buck his hips into your mouth for some kind of friction. You finally — finally started bobbing your head up and down, the tip of his cock touching the back of your throat each time. “S-Shit. Fuck. Don't stop.” You went faster after that, fondling with his balls. Your tongue swirling around the tip and your hands on his balls, he could feel that band in his belly about to snap. “Fuck. Fuck I'm gonna —” Before he could reach that sweet release, you pulled away with a pop, innocent eyes staring up at him. He let out a loud groan at that. “W-Why —”

He stopped himself when you stood up and took off your pants and panties and crawled onto his lap, sinking onto him slowly. A soft moan escaped both your mouths when his dick was completely inside you. “Fuck you're big.” You whimpered, trying to adjust to his size. It gave him a bit of an ego boost. You started to bounce on him, letting out the most sinful moans Jisung ever heard in his entire life. “Perfect little dick. Filling me up so well.” You groaned. His dick twitched. Your walls were sucking him in, milking him. It was too much. He was already on edge from his denied orgasm, but the way you were talking to him? Fuck. He wasn't going to last.

“S-So tight.” He whimpered. “F-Fuck. Feels good.”

“Feels good baby?” You asked. He nodded frantically. “Are you gonna cum?” He nodded again. “Hold it for a bit. Only good boys get to cum. Have you been a good boy?”

“Y-Yes, fuck —” He squeezed his eyes shut as your walls clenched around him. “Oh fuck —” Jisung was determined to save the last of his dignity (not like he had much in the first place) and tried to get you off too. He met your thrusts half way, his dick repeatedly brushing against that spongy spot deep inside you.

“Right there.” Your nails dug into his skin but he didn't give two shits. “‘M so close.”

“Let me make you cum too.” He kissed your chest, your breasts and wrapped his lips around your hardened buds, alternating between the two of them. From the fucked out expression on your face and the way he was two seconds from filling you with his seed, he two took of his fingers and found your clit in no time, rubbing harsh circles on the sensitive numb making you cry out as your orgasm washed over you. Jisung came a moment later, his body spasming as he came down from his high.

“Fuck, that was amazing.” You panted, your head laying on his shoulder. Jisung could barely even nod in reply. His dick was still inside you as your juices and his pooled onto his thighs and onto his sheets. It was a mistake to look at where your swollen pussy lips swallowed him whole and he could feel himself getting hard again.

Yeah. He definitely had a thing for mommies.

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#han jisung #skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz fluff #han jisung imagines #han x reader #han jisung fluff #han jisung x reader #han jisung hard hours #han jisung smut #han jisung x y/n #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #skz smut #( 🎤 ⸻ my works / han jisung )

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hijackalx · 6 months

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GHOST +18

SUMMARY: Gortash helps you remember what your relationship with him was like.

WORD COUNT: 4000

UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, good dark urge reader, hard dom gortash, degradation, praise kink, spanking, daddy kink, sadism and masochism, SLIGHT NONCON, some angst at the end

You watch as the crowd disperses, chattering amongst themselves. The once quiet hall becomes an echo chamber for indiscernible voices; you quickly begin to search for an escape before the socializing gives you a headache.

The coronation wasn't worth your time. You didn't even get to speak to Gortash before he disappeared into the sea of people, and your chances of finding him now are slim.

You needed so badly to speak to him about the situation at hand; you hoped he'd be willing to come to a compromise. There's little desire for conflict in your veins— is it bad to admit that sometimes you wish this weight was bestowed upon someone more combative?

You push through bodies, interrupting minglers and meaningless conversations. "Oh, I'm so wealthy!' 'Yes, yes, me as well!" you mock them under your breath, putting on your most haughty persona. The topics that enthrall patriars never quite intrigued you.

As far as you can remember, at least.

You knock shoulders with one of them, though you remain in character. "My deepest apologies, good sir," your voice comes out nasally, your nose held high with a level of snootiness.

Their hand graces your upper arm, each finger laced coldly with steel. It's not a dismissing touch, but a grab. It wraps around your bicep, holding you in place. Your body tenses, shoulders shooting upright— perhaps your impression was a bit too insulting.

"U-uh—" you laugh nervously while your eyes follow their way up to their face. Your heartbeat stutters in your chest, a stillness overcoming you like a startled rabbit.

A man stands before you; his eyes sunken, his hair cut haphazardly, his skin tanned and scarred. You know who this is.

"You," his deep voice finds you through the noise. "I've been looking for you. For a moment, I was worried that you’d left." he doesn't release you, as if he's afraid to lose you again.

"Gortash," you mutter, your gaze darting over his features. "I... was looking for you as well, actually." you're totally and utterly surprised by the fact he even acknowledged you, let alone had been seeking you out.

"Enver," he speaks, and you don't quite understand what he means until you notice the playful raise in his brow; he's correcting you. How... informal of him to suggest you call him by his first name.

He finally removes his grip from your arm. A gentle grin pulls at his lips, and he seems to try to hide it behind the wine in his glass. There's a beat of silence, and during it you catch his eyes not-so-subtly gracing over your figure. "Your dress is lovely," is all he says, and you suddenly feel that your garment is too revealing.

Your arm lays over your stomach and fastens to the other, as if that would some how barricade you from his scrutinizing gaze. So, the Archduke is a bit of a pervert— not something you expected, but something you can deal with, nonetheless.

"I, um— listen—" you begin, yet struggle to pull your thoughts together in the chaos. "Is there... somewhere else... we could talk?"

His eyes suddenly appear more lively, though there's something else inside them that you can't quite place. "Of course." he places his glass down on a nearby waiter's tray. You're shocked as he places a palm towards the middle of your back, making contact with the bare skin through the window of your dress. He guides you out of the crowd, and you're amazed at how easily he wades through it as his obstacles yield to him.

He takes you toward a dark, spiral staircase. You're not sure if he's being polite when he insists you go ahead or if he's attempting to peek up your dress, and you try not to think about it.

Once you reach the top, your body is caressed by the cool, night air. You stop in your tracks, amazed at how the city glows in the dark. You can hear the sounds of the bustling streets, and the faint hum of the gathering downstairs.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" Enver's voice appears behind you and you flinch. You'd forgotten he was there. "As are many things that bend so pliantly to my will."

You turn around to meet his eyes, how they look up at you from under his brow, steady and ravenous. There's a pit that opens up in your stomach— his plans are sinister, and you need the upcoming conversation to be enough to stop them.

Suddenly, you're attacked by a barrage of self-doubt. What a heavy task for someone as measly as you.

The wind blows through the both of you, pulling at your hair and clothing as if saying to stop stalling. Your eyes flit to the ground once before allowing him to lead you further.

He opens another door for you, this one leading to what you believe is an office. Your bodies are bathed in the warm candlelight as you enter. You approach the long, many-seated table in the immediate vicinity as the sound of him closing the large doors fills the chamber.

You observe the architecture, feeling a sense of awe at being in the presence of such expensive tastes. Enver walks around you, heading to a compartment holding many different kinds of liquor. "I keep the good stuff in here," he comments, the bottle in his grasp clinking against the others as it's removed. "Although, I rarely have the pleasure of sharing it with guests as enchanting as yourself."

His words seem to carry an implication of familiarity. You turn to him with a raised brow. "You know why I'm here?" Your mind flits back to earlier— you remember him saying something about looking for you as well.

With a still hand he pours the cinnamon-colored liquid into both of your glasses. He doesn't look up as he responds, "Do you really believe me to be so dull?" he lets out a small laugh, placing the cork back into the bottle. "Besides, my intuition tells me we both want the same thing."

"... We do?" you mutter in disbelief. Had you been wrong about him? Is he really willing to hear you out so easily?

He hands you your glass. "We do." he raises his drink to you as if to toast, then brings it to his mouth. As he lets the drink disappear down his throat, his eyes remain on yours. This time, you feel that you may be able to trust whatever is behind them.

You join him with a small sip, and there is a short moment shared between you two. You notice just how close he's standing to you, but for some reason you don't step away. Your gaze falters from his own, shakily sneaking a glance at his lips, then his neck, and his exposed chest...

You stop there, quickly darting your pupils back upwards. You notice him still staring, and you wonder if perhaps your eyes explored just a bit too much.

Flustered, you turn around and place your palms on the table. "I—I'm sorry, this is just... a bit much for me." you try to compose yourself, feeling the start of your proposal bubbling to the surface. With a sigh, you begin, "Gor— Enver, I wanted to discuss the future of—"

You can't get any more words out— not even a sound. Your eyes widen, your temperature rising throughout your entire body like a surging wildfire. The only thing you can focus on is his lips on your neck and his body pressed against yours as he pins your hands to the tabletop.

Your breath quivers, heart in your throat. What is happening?

His mouth begins making its way downwards. You shiver out of your frozen state. With a swift, freeing elbow to his ribcage, you turn and shove him away from you.

He stumbles backward, the emotions on his face cycling too quickly for you to make something of it. Eventually, anger is the one that settles and stays. "What in the hells is the matter with you?!"

Your hand grips the glass on the table tightly, ready to use it as a weapon if you must. "I— what's the matter with me?! You just came onto me! I don't even know you!"

"What else did you expect, you little—" A crease forms between his brows. "... You don't know who I am?" his voice appears more softly, harboring confusion.

"Well, yes, you are the Archduke— but you know what I mean! Y-you don't just walk up to any stranger with their back turned and start kissing their neck!"

He glances away for a moment, shoulders relaxing as he finds the answers he's seeking inside the night’s prior instances. "You and I are hardly strangers, my dear."

You go quiet.

No— your memory can't have failed you again, not here. Not with him. You'd remember, surely you would.

With an inquiring grin, he approaches you slowly. "So it’s true. How curious." he studies you as if you're a freshly discovered specimen. "If you don't remember what we were, do you even remember what you are?"

His words rattle you to your core. To imply that your relationship with him was so deeply intertwined with who you once were— it almost makes you sick.

"You're lying," you respond quickly, regardless of whether you think he is or not. You won't accept otherwise.

"Am I?" he stops mere inches from your face, as if to allow you to see the truth through his eyes. They delve into yours, carrying an intensity that yours lack, a confidence that you wish wasn't there.

He hums. "Allow me to jog your memory." with a deep inhale, he opts to press his lips against yours. Your trembling body leans into the table behind you, backing further and further away from him until you can't anymore. He kisses you, and for some reason, you let him. You don't make any extravagant attempts to rid yourself of him— instead, you allow him to have you, as if on instinct.

The kiss lasts a few seconds, and he lingers for a moment before pulling away. You feel an emptiness on your lips, your fingertips leaving the glass at your side to reach up and gently inspect the area.

"First, we were accomplices. You, a chosen of Bhaal; I, a chosen of Bane,” he looks you directly in the face as he speaks, making sure you’re listening intently. “After so much time together, we took an interest in each other, particularly each other's bodies," he explains, "We were so young and knew so little— but we learned from each other. Experimented with each other—"

You shift underneath where he has you trapped against the table. You sink into yourself, your chin tucking down in shame. You're not sure how you feel about all of this, but you do know that there's a growing warmth between your thighs.

Even if your mind fails to remember what you two did together, your body knows.

His head tilts so that he speaks into your ear. "And, Gods, the things you'd let me do to you," as if reliving the memory, he almost moans, the lilt to his tone making your stomach lurch.

”N-no…” you mumble, though there is little substance behind the word.

He lowers himself, his mouth hovering over your neck once again. His breaths fan your sensitive skin before pressing his lips to it.

You twitch, your hand involuntarily coming up to rest in his hair. He hears how your breath hitches, and you feel him smile against you as he sucks softly.

His restless hand finds itself on your thigh, slipping into the slit of your dress. The cold material of his gauntlets raises goose bumps on your skin, your muscles tensing every time he reaches just inches from your core.

He pulls his lips from you with a pop, slightly breathless.

"It became an addiction. We'd meet up at every opportunity— almost every night just to fuck," he says with enough emphasis to make you realize just how filthy your past together was. “Hells, I even remember asking you what your father thought of his prized offspring becoming my personal little whore."

You burn hot with embarrassment, though some part of you likes the name he's given you. "... a- and?" you hate yourself for playing into whatever this is, but you can't help it. You want him to keep talking.

He laughs, "you said you didn't give a shit. Can you imagine that? Daddy's little girl willing to sacrifice everything just so she wouldn't have to go a day without me fucking her into the mattress.” he gives you a lift onto the table, both of his hands roughly pulling your thighs apart so he can place himself between them.

As if acting on its own, you fail to notice how your body arches into him, begging for his touch. "Enver..." you moan quietly, the sensation feeling so familiar on your tongue. The memories he describes to you seem so real yet so distant. You want to remember them, to experience them.

His chest rises and falls quicker by the minute. As his hand comes up to direct you by your jaw, the gold points on his fingertips leave indents in your skin. "You have no idea how elated I was to get news of your reappearance. I don't have words to explain how badly I've missed you— your body."

Unable to compose himself any longer, he finally stops teasing and slams his mouth into yours. He's aggressive and rough; the biting, smacking your teeth together kind of rough. You struggle to keep up with him, balancing yourself with an arm over his shoulders until he pushes you onto your back. Impatiently, he rips his sharp gauntlets from his hands, the objects landing somewhere on the floor with a clatter.

He runs his bare hands over the curves of your body, taking in the sight as if it's the first time. You lift your back as he reaches for the zipper of your dress, his adrenaline-ridden fingers fumbling before undoing it successfully. You help him wriggle yourself out of it.

The cold air hits your exposed breasts, your nipples erect and sensitive. His calloused thumb brushes over one before he tightly squeezes your tit, an obvious attempt to hear your voice. He's delighted when you gasp in both pain and pleasure, his mouth meeting yours to devour the sound. He then quickly trails down your neck to pepper kisses over your chest.

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, purposefully grazing it with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. Your hand tangles in his messy hair, lifting yourself into him.

His opposite hand sneaks into your panties, toying with your clit in a cruel fashion. He pinches and teases, refusing to give you what you want. Frustrated, you reach down to move his hand out of the way, to which he grabs and restrains. You try the same with the other, and he repeats.

"Insubordinate little slut," he mumbles under his breath as he pushes his knee between your legs, providing pressure but no friction. "You want to do it yourself?" he says meanly, slightly irritated by your actions.

You immediately begin rubbing against his thigh, finally feeling some relief. You exhale, feeling waves of pleasure course through you.

He peers down between your bodies to watch, his erection prominent in his pants. "Fuck, that's right. Show me how badly you need it."

Your hips eventually start to stutter, unable to continue as you lose yourself in the sensation. "I- I can't," you whine, unsatisfied as you fail to keep your rhythm.

He smiles sadistically at how you struggle. "Oh, you can't?" he pouts mockingly. "Poor thing."

You know what he wants, it sits in the back of your mind, ready without second thought. You've been here before. "P-please,” you choke out. "Please, I need you. Fuck me, please," your voice comes out pathetically, happy to continue begging until you get what you desire.

As if on cue, he flips you onto your stomach, your ass stuck in the air and your cheek pressed to the hardwood. He takes your arm and folds it behind your back, holding you in place. "You say that like I was going to give you a choice." You see how he leers down at you through the corner of your eye, a wolfish look on his features. You don't know how much truth there is to his words, but your pussy flutters anyway.

He runs a finger over your folds, the friction from your underwear making you jump. You whimper his name, completely at his mercy. With a huff, he rips your panties off of you, splitting the delicate fabric in half.

Pausing for a moment, he admires the glistening wetness between your thighs. He kicks your feet apart further to spread you open, using his finger to circle your clit before covering the digit in your essence. You watch as he sticks it in his mouth, cleaning it off with his tongue. He lets out a content sigh, savoring the taste.

You whine while deepening the arch in your back, presenting yourself to him further.

His brows furrow. Picking up your torn panties, he wads them up and shoves them in your mouth. It extends your jaw fully, making it impossible to spit them out. "Shut up," he growls. "You'll get what you want when I feel like giving it to you."

You can taste yourself on the ripped garment, feel how wet you are with your tongue. Your saliva begins to dampen it by the second, and it’s only a matter of time before it drips past the barrier.

The sound of him disrobing fills the air. Your irises roll back behind corkscrewed eyelids, anticipating what is to come with little patience.

The gag muffles your sounds as you feel his length drag between your thighs, parting your puffy folds. Your hole contracts spastically, desperate for him.

Then, he slams into you without warning. You scream, writhing beneath him as his dick forcibly stretches you out. The pain is almost unbearable as you feel tears start to materialize.

He balances himself on the table with his free hand, letting out a long, shuddering breath. "Fuck." He takes a moment before moving. There is no slow build-up, his pace is aggressive and hard from the very start. He fucks you like he absolutely hates you, and you suppose it's possible that he does. If what he says is true, then you abandoned him. Not on purpose, but you still did.

His cock moves in a shoveling motion, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You send your body back to him every time he reenters you, rocking in sync. It feels natural— it feels good. As you adjust, you realize that you fit together perfectly; two puzzle pieces that were never meant to be apart. Suddenly, his dependence on you makes so much more sense.

You gasp as he grabs a fistful of your hair, roughly pulling your head upward. He holds you there uncomfortably as he speaks into your ear, "if you ever leave me again," he pauses to catch his breath, "I'll fucking kill you. Do you understand?"

Nodding your head is not enough for him. He rips your underwear from your mouth. "yes, what?"

Your breathing is ragged and high-pitched as you're finally allowed to use your mouth again. "Yes, daddy!" you assume that must be what he made you call him before, based on how it forces its way past your teeth. You're sure he gets some kind of power-trip from it, perhaps he's envious of your previous devotion to your father.

“It seems you remember more than I thought.” he uses his thumb to wipe the drool from your swollen lip, then massages the spot where he yanked your hair. "Good. You're doing so good."

His unexpected praise makes your pussy tighten around him, milking him, begging for him to come.

He lets out a deep, throaty moan. "Gods, you feel fucking amazing." his palm makes contact with your ass, a sharp smack echoing through the tall ceilings of the office. You yelp, your fingernails clawing at the tabletop. You can feel the hand-shaped welt forming right away, the stinging sensation rising to the top of your skin. "You like how daddy fucks you?"

He asks just as you feel yourself reaching your climax. It builds in your lower stomach, bubbling in your chest. "Y-yes!" you cry. "Please don't stop! Just like that!"

Cruel man that he is, he does the exact opposite of what you ask. He stops, pulling out of you and leaving you feeling empty. Ushering you up, he switches places with you and grabs you by your wrist, guiding you onto his lap.

He looks at you through his brow, cheeks flushed, breaths erratic, yet with a smirk playing at his lips. "Work for it," he orders, holding himself up with his palms on the tabletop.

As you lower yourself onto his length, he watches you intently, brushing your unruly hair out of your face. Your cheek is red and swollen from being pressed into the table, and he gives it a few condescending pats. "You look a mess, dearest," he laughs.

You ignore him, focused on taking him in. You do it slower than he did, but he remains patient for you. You suppose that's his act of kindness for the day.

Balancing on your knees, you start bouncing in his lap. Your hands hold onto his shoulders, watching how he slides in and out of you. A creamy, white liquid has been created between the two of you, coating his shaft and your entrance.

His attention remains on your face— sometimes shifting to your tits, but mostly your face. You eventually notice, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze. Placing a hand to the back of your head, he pulls you in for a kiss. You cup his face with your palms, whimpering into his mouth as his tongue grazes the inside of your teeth.

He breaks the kiss along with a line of saliva. His nose finds the crook of your neck, resting there as he pulls your bodies flush together. Your arms rest over his broad shoulders, occasionally digging your nails into his skin. He seems at peace with you in his grasp, holding you near. It’s in this moment that you truly feel just how much he missed you, worried for you, yearned for you. You realize that your relationship may have been more than just sex to him, even if not officially so.

He lets out a broken groan as he reaches his climax. His grip becomes almost painfully tight, taking your waist into his strong arms to fuck you again as he releases a thick load of cum inside you. The warm substance coats your walls as you tense around him.

His orgasm encourages your own. Squirming in his grasp, you throw your head back. You never imagined yourself crying out a series of his name, but here you are, and you never imagined it would be so sweet on your tongue. He keeps you in place with his hands on your hips, helping you ride it out.

You rest your weary body on his, your cheek against the sticky skin of his shoulder. Although, you don’t rest easy. There’s a heaviness to your heart, a guilt.

You can’t be the woman he knew— you’ve changed. The things you want are no longer the same, and you’ll betray him without even meaning to. He’s in love with a ghost, one that you just can’t pretend to be.

In the end, you’re in each other’s way, and you always will be. Whatever is between you two is an obstacle, and it’s destined to be destroyed.

#enver gortash #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #enver gortash x dark urge #dark urge #durgetash #enver gortash x reader #enver gortash x tav #gortash

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istoleyoursk1n · 5 months

Note

How would they all react to a Tav who reveals themselves to be a dragon in disguise?

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

How would they react to a Tav who reveals themselves to be a dragon in disguise?

(I’m assuming you mean they could transform into an actual Dragon or at least something Dragon-like.)

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“Gods! You would have thought to tell someone about the fact that, oh, I don't know, you’re a damn fire-breathing Dragon!”

Shouted when he first saw the transformation. It came out of nowhere so he didn't expect it at all. He nearly stabbed you from the shock but thankfully retracted his dagger as soon as he realized it was you.

Irritated that you’d hide something like this from him. He wanted a warning at least!

He scolds you for keeping it secret but soon enough he takes a moment to admire the sight before him.

You appear similar to a Dragonborn but with notable different features, something that brings that all too familiar smug look on his face.

It would be useful indeed to have some sort of Dragon companion accompany them on their journey against the absolute, a companion he’d love to make use of.

Eventually comes to find the new form endearing as long as your scales don't scratch his body or your firey breath doesn't ruin his perfect hair.

: ̗̀➛ WYLL

“You’re a dragon?! Out of all the things I expected to hear from you, it certainly wasn't this. Not bad news at all though!”

Oh! Well isn't that surprising!

He’s amazed, to say the least, staring in wonder at your new form.

You look incredible! Nearly as glorious as the dragons he’s envisioned in fairytales. He can barely keep his own eyes off of you.

Even more impressed seeing you fight in that form. It's so distracting that he nearly gets hit by an arrow mid battle.

He adores how mystical you look, he hopes that you stay in said form longer and allow him to live out his own little fanatical dreams he had as a boy.

Who wouldn't go on epic adventures with a dragon by your side?

Overjoyed if you do show him your firey breath or even let him fly on your back. You’re bringing his inner child back to life by doing so.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

“A dragon-hyrbird..? Dragonborn? No that's not quite right. Well, whatever you are, good to know such incredible power is on our side.”

‘What the fuck?’ <— His initial reaction lmao

He’s so lost upon first seeing you transform that for a moment he thinks he's hallucinating.

Did you accidentally use some sort of spell on yourself? He seriously can't tell.

Baffled once he realizes that you did in fact transform into a dragon that he's utterly speechless.

His speechlessness is soon followed by an array of questions that may or may not overwhelm you. He’s incredibly curious now, wondering how this all works.

Do you have fiery breath? Does the transformation hurt? Can you fly? Do you have heightened senses? He just has so many!

If you do manage to entertain each and every one of his questions, he’d be delighted, incredibly fascinated by this new form and all the features that come with it.

Would love to study it more once he has the chance, perhaps you both could learn new things from it that could give them a big advantage in the coming battles.

: ̗̀➛ KARLACH

“You’re a bloody Dragon?! A dragon! Hell fucking yes! I can't believe I’m friends with a damn Dragon! An amazing one at that.”

‘WHAT THE FUCK’ (Lovingly).

Her body is set ablaze upon seeing you first transform, she just couldn't believe it.

She's so amazed by you’re form that she's practically quick stepping all over the place.

You look so cool! She spends at least a minute circling you to take in every bit of you.

She freaks the hell out if you so much as breathe fire in her direction (she thinks it's the coolest thing she's ever seen).

Her hype around your new form lasts for a long while before she eventually starts to question how this even happened to you.

I mean, were you born like this? Does it hurt? Can she touch you? Would you not feel the burn if she did? She just wants to admire and feel you! Especially you’re scales!

She becomes a grinning mess every time you spread your wings, everything about this form is something she both envies yet adores.

: ̗̀➛ SHADOWHEART

“Well, I didn't quite expect a… dragon-hybrid? To be joining us on this adventure but the surprise isn't unwelcomed.”

Similar to the rest, she's surprised.

You didn't exactly give off any sort of hint that would colorate to your dragon transformation.

Well, at least they have a dragon companion by their side now. She can’t exactly think of any cons to that.

She doubts you’d go ahead and set the entire camp ablaze now that you've and the others come so far.

She doesn't see you any differently than before if not just mildly curious about the new form.

You certainly look different but she can recognize you despite it all.

As long as this new form hasn't changed you mentally then she's okay with everything that's happening with this new change. You’re still her friend after all.

: ̗̀➛ LAE’ZEL

“Having a powerful ra’stil at my side is nothing short but honorable. Consider yourself useful in the long run. Hope that this newfound form of yours does not disappoint.”

Shocked and amazed. She'd seen red dragons before but having one of her very own travel companions as one is something she’s secretly excited by.

Her staring isn't something you can easily ignore, you can tell how much she loves this form as awkward as her gaze makes you feel at times.

She's simply admiring you, even blatantly admitting how appealing you are in her eyes in this particular form.

Even better when you use such an imposing form in battle, the way it gives you extra strength is something she's impressed by. It only adds to her admiration for you by tenfold.

I doubt she’d ever ask for it herself but if you do offer to let her fly you, she’d be ecstatic, she might even smile.

She’s always wanted a red dragon of her own, but having you isn't a bad option either. She feels more like a warrior soaring through the skies with you alongside her, something that makes her fiery heart burn with joy.

Sparring with you in this form would also be one of her favorite pastimes, getting to see such raw power up close is sure to get her to feel some form of happiness.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

“I wouldn't have guessed we’d have a dragon in our midst, such mighty yet graceful beasts are nothing but a blessing to see so close. Especially one so enchanting as you.”

Surprised, but pleased!

Having a dragon companion at one’s side is an advantage sure, but this new form is quite appealing to the eye.

It's not often he gets to admire a dragon-like creature up close, especially one he's come to grow fond of.

With your permission, he’d take a moment to take you in, gazing upon your form as if it was something he’d never seen before.

He’d be curious as to how nature could have come up with such a beautiful enigma such as yourself, subtly complimenting aspects of your new form he had noticed.

He especially loves to see you fly, to witness you taking to the skies with spread-out wings, feeling the wind as you cut threw clouds.

You’re ethereal in his eyes, someone he can’t take his eyes off of in and out of this incredible form.

He would absolutely be on board with racing through the woods with you in his bear form, enjoying yourselves to your heart's content until it is time to continue on with your grand adventure.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 headcanons #bg3 headcanon #bg3 x reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 wyll #bg3 gale #bg3 karlach #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 lae’zel #bg3 halsin #astarion #wyll #gale #karlach #shadowheart #lae’zel #halsin

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bunnysbrainrot · 15 days

Text

Bourbon and Mead

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝' 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐.

Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader, Jackson!AU

Content: Alcohol consumption, flirting, slow-burn tension, slow dancing with Joel, teasing, POV switch. Bear with me, folks, this'll be worth it.

Summary: It's been a busy first week in Jackson, but you're finally starting to feel at home. Even still, you haven't made many new connections, but hopefully tonight's big event can help. Despite your nerves, you go anyway, and see some familiar faces.

Word Count: 4,300+

It had been just under a week since your patrol with Joel and his group, and you're settling in rather well. For such a shabby spot, you have decorated your living space impressively, and it settles something in you. After so long, you're really starting to have a place to call home.

Knock, knock, knock.

The noise shakes you out of a stupor, and you make your way to the heavy wooden door, and tug it open to reveal a friendly face, Maria.

You've had little chance to interact with new people since arriving in Jackson - when you're working as a community this directly, a hell of a lot of work goes into it. Which means, everyone's busy. Just about constantly. That being said, outside of your own room, Maria has been your only companion.

She can sense your loneliness, too, but she hasn't let on. The last thing you needed was the pressure of making a name of yourself in the first few days, so she had kept you busy with chores, patrols, hunts, you name it. To her, that plan would help you adjust to how Jackson functioned as a whole, so you could have the foundation of being a community member, to get your bearings.

Her smile is bright as she speaks, "Hey, sweetheart, just wanted to let y'know about the dance happening tonight. If you're feeling up for it, you should stop by."

The offer erupts a warmth in your chest.

"The dance?" You ask eagerly.

Maria nods, "Used to call it a square dance, but not enough folks know how to, so it's more of a get-together now, but we'll have music, drinks, the whole nine."

It doesn't take long for you to choose your answer. You cheerfully tell Maria, "That sounds wonderful. Where is it, and when does it start?"

She starts to describe the layout of the nearby buildings to the dance, waving her hands in front of her methodically, "But trust me, you won't be able to miss it. Just follow the music." Maria ends her sentence with a wink.

"What do I wear?"

There's a beat as she looks you over, and past your shoulder to your chest of drawers, which she helped stock when you first arrived.

Maria waves a hand dismissively as she replies, "Some people take the chance to dress up, some people dress down. You do whatever you're comfortable with, honey."

You flash her a grateful smile, and she issues a small goodbye before walking off.

---

A good few hours buffers you before the dance. The optional dance, but something in you will stop at nothing to go. You need to see people, have some laughs, live a little.

You take your sweet time getting ready, too. Some downtime is well deserved and rare, but it gives you the perfect window of time - debating on your outfit takes the longest. You opt for a casual hairdo, one that won't get your neck all hot and sweaty once you start dancing. The watch on your left wrist reads 6:47 PM up at you.

Whooping voices can be heard outside your window as people saunter down the street, toward the festivities, you assume. You sneak a peek through the curtains, eyeing a gaggle of townsfolk laughing alongside one another. Their eyes are bright, voices uplifted and loud. The men clap each other on the shoulder aggressively, while the women jab each other in the sides with their elbows. There wasn't much to make out, but whatever they were joking about had them roaring with laughter.

Seeing the crowd inspires you to make way out the door. You ensure all your lights are off, save for your nightstand lamp to come back to an inviting space. A deep breath later, and you were out the door, too.

There's a new feeling in the air, and you can place it precisely. Upbeat music plays far down the small Jackson streets, but its effects are widespread. All around, the other residents beam brightly as they go about the evening. Most people nearest you exchange small 'hello's' and wave politely, others still smile your way. Tightness wells in your chest as you realize just how long it had been since you'd seen so many friendly faces.

The music's volume eventually blares as you near the open area for the dance. The weather proves to be fair enough to host the event outside, so rows of string lights hang between nearby poles and sides of buildings. In the back of the venue is a group of people wielding a variety of instruments, nodding and bouncing with the quick beat of what you knew as bluegrass music.

"Hey, look who's here!" A voice calls out. You glance around until you realize the call was for your attention. You turn to the voice and recognize the woman from last week's patrol, who'd given you the rundown of who your partners were.

You greet her in return before registering the rest of the group. A few of them could be familiar around town, but for the most part, new faces.

Except for one.

Joel's eyes aren't on yours when you find him in the group. He's looking to one of the men, seemingly in a deep conversation. Perhaps he could feel your eyes on him, because his eyes flicker to yours for a split second. He pauses, lets his conversation partner speak, while he gives you a polite nod, before turning back to the man.

The fluttering in your gut was a dead giveaway, this is why you wanted to come. The prospect of seeing Joel again was exciting, but usually slim. And here he was. If only he could just move on from his conversation...

A hand lands on your arm comfortingly. The kind woman tells you, "It's so good to see you again! How have you been settling in?"

There's a twinge of an accent in her words, Southern, but more subtle. Her words are as soft as a hug.

"It's been going alright, finally getting to decorating," you start. The woman listens. Wait... did she ever introduce herself? Shit. How were you supposed to see someone this much without knowing their name?

"That was the best part when I got here. Once I had my space set up, it really felt like home," she replies.

There's a beat of silence between you, and it breaks when you ask, "I'm sorry if this is awkward, but I never got your name the first time we met." You briefly introduce yourself before she replies.

Her eyes crinkle when she smiles, "I'm Cara. I never introduced myself, but I wanted you to have at least be one friendly face here."

"I'm thankful for it, I really am. It feels better now that we have names to the faces," you offer with a nervous smile.

Cara looks at you mischievously, softly grabbing your bicep, "Let's get a drink. Whaddya say?"

That kind offer melts your anxiety away, and all that's left is you, Cara, and the joy of sharing a drink with a friend. In moments, you have a glass of homemade mead in your hand.

Someone else from the group calls Cara over, so for a moment you're left alone with your cup of fermented honey goodness. It's sweet, slightly bitter, but leaves your stomach feeling warm as it settles. The burn in your throat is numbed by the warmth in your belly. You make it back to Cara's group and decided to strike up conversation with those folks, thinking that it'd be a good place to start.

The first few conversations are long - a flurry of questions about your background, your journey out to Jackson, and how you've been adjusting to the move. You learn some basics about some of them, but there's a distraction lingering in the back of your mind.

Joel.

A few people in the group break away to leave for the dance floor, the jovial music beckoning them ever closer. You don't follow immediately, which leaves you with a few stragglers, and him.

For the first time in days, you hear his voice again, "What'd you get?"

The question snaps you to attention, looking down into your glass. You glance back up at him and motion with the cup with a swish, "Some mead, I think. Pretty good."

He nods, "Pete makes some damn good mead, 'specially if it's for a party. Pulls out the good stuff."

Part of you wonders if his lighthearted talking is to make up for the blunder on last week's patrol, to ease the embarrassment you still held from it.

"What's in your cup?" You retort.

"Usually it's bourbon, but tonight, it's beer," he replies with a gaze into his own cup. He copies your motion and swirls the cup a few times. A bit of the foamy liquid sloshes out and onto the dirt in front of your, nicer, combat boots. Some of the beer spatters onto your feet and into the dirt.

"Damn, maybe they should cut me off," Joel jokes, reaching into his back pocket and revealing a handkerchief, holding it out to you. "Sorry 'bout that."

You take the cloth, "Making a mess of the place already, and it's not even eight o'clock yet, impressive."

The joke seems to land with Joel; you can tell by the way the corners of his eyes tighten.

Joel

What you say makes him chuckle. It's rare to find someone with a sense of humor these days. That kind of fresh attitude can bring a lot of life in a world like this, especially around here, especially after the loss these people have felt.

New folks were few and far between, given how desolate Jackson had become since the world fell to shit, but there was a wind of change when you arrived last week. Joel could tell from the second he saw you on patrol, even trotting ahead of the group at one point. The light in your eyes when you awed at the mountains tugged at his heartstrings. A type of longing for that kind of simple joy. To be young, without most of his hardships, seeing new parts of the world, even though it had shrunk.

On the patrol, you had gotten too far ahead, in line with Joel in the lead, and you knew it wasn't your place, but you hadn't shied away from him. In fact, you had embraced it, and listened keenly when Joel advised you keep your distance. Normally it'd feel like taming an unruly child, but you had a certain curiosity in your eyes, you were eager to learn.

Joel knows how harsh he can be, let alone to new faces. The worry of how that attitude rubs off on people subsided decades ago - one could say that Joel has truly embraced that 'grouchy old man' stereotype. That attitude has saved his ass more times than he could count, and has kept him safe after all these years. But, there's an unavoidable weight when it comes to hardening yourself up as much as Joel has. It's a truth that he's been evading for years. You make yourself untouchable, but you forget how much you need someone else.

Even so, it's easier that way. You keep losses to a minimum as long as you're not attached. Living that way had gotten him this far.

But now you stand in front of him, with beer-splattered boots and a kind smile despite your new shoes being soiled. You take his handkerchief and bend down to clean your shoes, and hand the cloth back to Joel. His fingers brush against yours when he takes it back - yours are delicately soft against his calloused ones, and it takes him by surprise.

In that split second, Joel's eyes search your face for any change, to see if you freeze like he does, to see if your breath hitches like his did, for any sign that this isn't just some fluke.

It could be a trick of the light, but Joel swears there's a new redness in your cheeks. When you look at him next, it's with bright, innocent eyes, a type of innocence Joel would surely ruin.

"Thank you, Joel," you say softly. His name on your lips is the sweetest thing he's ever heard, it's almost sickening.

Joel clears his throat and gives you a nod, "It's the least I can do."

The sun is dipping behind the mountains, streaking the sky with glorious pink hues against the emerging stars of dusk. A fiddle lilts happily as the song picks up pace, the tune itself serving as an invitation to get yourself moving. In the distance, Cara flashes you a wide smile, and waves a beckoning hand over to her gaggle of folks. You can barely make out her words as she mouths them.

"Let's dance!"

Joel notices your distraction, looking back at Cara trying to whisk you onto the dance floor. There's a good number of people breaking into a flurry of moves, all whooping and laughing as they pass one another. Joel looks back to you, the softness that was there before is seeming to dissipate. His face is hardened again, resigned.

"Guess I'm being stolen away," you say.

"Be careful," Joel replies, "Carried Away Cara doesn't let up. You'll be dancing for hours."

You comment, "Didn't know I signed up for that kind of night."

You've reached the group by now, and Cara is already handing you another glass of mead, and a huge smile to go along with it.

----

You're onto drink number four, you think, and the sky has shifted from a pale pink to a deep indigo, littered with bright stars and a beautiful crescent moon. It seems like the music has blurred together without beginning or end, and your boozy haze doesn't reveal any tiredness, so you keep dancing. Joel was right, Cara's had you dancing for what feels like hours at this point. But damn, did she know how to party.

The song the group's playing begins to slow down, and part of the crowd disperses away. Chattering can be overheard amidst the quieting music. You place a mostly-empty glass onto a nearby picnic table and look around the venue. Folks pass you by with a pep in their step, their faces flushed red from alcohol and relentless dancing.

A breath of fresh air wafts through the venue, rustling through your hair that had tacked with sweat to the nape of your neck. You smile from the sensation, relishing in the cool air across your hot skin. Shit, what time is it?

Your watch beams 10:13 PM back up at you.

Damn, where did all that time go?

The night has given you a rush of adrenaline you haven't found in what feels like months. Something about this dance is erupting a sense of joy you were sure you'd never feel again. Laughter, dancing, good people. Such simple things really do lift the spirits.

You can feel a pointed stare at you off to the side, but do you dare look? Of course you do - it's not like the mead is letting you act composed. Being as subtle as you can muster in your state, you glance to the side, where that looming sense had come from. Far off, leaning against a tall wooden fence, is Joel.

While he had practically ignored you when you'd first seen him tonight, he can't take his eyes off of you in this moment. Your heart skips a beat when he holds the stare, his deep brown eyes never leave yours, even as other partygoers pass between you. It's as if the world had paused, but perhaps just for you, frozen under Joel's gaze, the sole subject of his attention.

He stands alone on the side. No one to interrupt you if you go over...

Before you decide, you wave and smile. A silly drunken grin you'd normally hide. Right now, with his focus only on you, is the most alive you've felt in months. The high of it creeps up from behind, whispering encouragement in the form of a dare. Go up to him.

Your legs make the journey before you register what's happening; your body suddenly has a mind of its own, no way to back down now.

The narrowing distance from Joel pushes your heart to your throat. While your legs carry you smoothly, your senses are turned upside down. The anxiety you have about Joel is nothing but a distant memory. Tonight, you'd overcome your nervousness.

"Not much of a dancer, hm?" You call to him over the music.

A small smile spreads across his lips, "With these knees, I'm lucky to do a damn foxtrot. Someone out there was having the time of their life, though."

He truly has a gift. The moment he speaks, everything else seems to disappear. God, you'd ask him question after question just to hear that voice - deep and gravelly, but the accent is thick and sweet like molasses. A slip of your imagination has you wandering into uncharted territory. Imagine a "baby" or "honey" or "sweetheart" in that voice... Your mind vacates long enough for Joel to arch an eyebrow at you, and you're immediately brought back down to earth.

"I don't know how I went dancing for that long," you exhale.

Joel shakes his head with a chuckle, "You'll get some damn good sleep, that's for sure."

It'd be better if you were sleeping with me.

The unfiltered thought jolts through you, snapping you back to attention. Maybe the mead was making you a little too confident.

Behind you both, the music group's slow beat has pulled folks into a smooth rhythm. The dance floor littered with small groups and couples as the song continued. This new intimate energy could not have been timed any worse. You took a big breath and let it out slowly.

"It's getting late, I should probably head home."

Joel pauses, looking toward the band, then down into a cup of amber-brown liquid. Maybe he resorted back to his usual bourbon.

You follow suit and watch the band play on. A tug in your chest begs you not to go, not yet.

"Think you got time for one last go?" His question snaps your head to him. There's a new spark in his eyes, a softer glint amidst the chocolate brown.

Your answer is immediate, breathless, "Of course."

Anything. Anything for him.

As long as it reveals a glimpse of the man underneath the tough shell. It's still in him.

Joel extends his hand, palm up, to take yours. You lay yours on top plainly, holding a breath at the sensation of your skin against his. It's not like before with the handkerchief. This time, it's intentional, he wants to touch you.

The way his fingers curl to hold your hand settled that debate. His touch is careful. It didn't take a genius to know how rough he could be, with those toned muscles shifting under his plaid shirt; in contrast, he held you with such delicacy, as if you'd break if he gripped too hard.

"You know how to dance at all?" Joel asks.

You bark a laugh, "With this many drinks in me? Highly doubt it."

Joel's laugh is louder this time around. You can actually make it out, and you can feel that it's genuine. "I warned you about Cara. Now I get a drunk dance partner."

"Hey, you asked me to dance. You don't get to give me shit for havin' a good time," your words slur together, proving Joel's point.

Amidst the crowd, Joel manages to find you two a nice spot with plenty of room. The surrounding couples look how you feel - entranced with their partners, focused and attentive, like the other person is the only one left in the world.

"How 'bout this? You lead me."

You freeze, "But, I-I don't know what to d-"

"Do what you want. I'll follow."

"And if I make a fool of myself?" You question.

His other hand migrates to your waist, holding you gently at your side, "The you better really sell it."

Your laugh is giddy. He lets you have room for mistakes. There's room to be human around him.

A deep exhale later, you place your hands on Joel's shoulders and begin to sway, a slow and steady pace with the beat of the song. Seems the mead has done its work of clouding your judgement - you're locked in the swaying motion.

"Is this okay?" You ask softly, finding Joel's eyes. There's a warmth in them you hadn't seen before.

He nods gently, "You lead the way, sweetheart. Don't worry about me."

Who'd have known that a single word could melt you completely. Your mind instantly hooks on it, cycles it in your mind as if to brand it into your memory.

Sweetheart.

Your smile is instant, but feels like one of those sloppy, stupid drunk grins that reveal how not-yourself you are at the words.

And so, you sway. As promised, Joel follows right along.

He shifts closer, readjusting the hold on your waist, spanning his fingers along the small of your back. A polite caress, not meandering and wandering around like most drunk men you'd encountered. Joel can keep his hands to himself. Joel has manners. Joel has self-control.

There's a lead to follow with his movements, you discover. It does feel more natural to wrap your arms around his neck like this...

In a swift moment you've melted into him, and with it, your nerves.

You also find that it's far more comfortable to rest your head on his chest. A beat later, your senses return, and you raise yourself back into standing position, realizing the crossed boundary.

"Gettin' tired already?" Joel asks bemusedly.

Maybe he didn't catch it. Thank goodness.

"You're basically rocking me to sleep here," you quip back.

Joel reminds you, "You're the one leading us."

You roll your eyes as you shake your head, bringing a laugh from him again. The sound of it lights you up from inside, flipping your stomach. You'd already learned that that sound was rare.

"Some dance partner I am," you say sarcastically. Joel's smile broadens, and the hand on your back shifts. His thumb idly sweeps across your spine.

Somehow, your arms are back around his neck, and your head is against his chest, all without protest. Joel's thumb still caresses your back as a sign. The song in the background changes to something simpler, with fewer instruments, giving highlight to a slow solo from the fiddle player.

"You're right, I think I'm gonna sleep like a log tonight," you murmur.

Joel's chuckle vibrates against your cheek. The huff of his laugh gives you a whiff of bourbon, sickly sweet and smoky, blending in with his deeper woodsy scent.

"You gotta be more careful next time," his voice slows. "We'll get some water in ya, help fight that hangover tomorrow."

You nod against him, smiling broadly, knowing that you're in good hands. Your words come out sheepishly, "I'm sorry I got so drunk. I... didn't think you'd see me like this."

A gentle squeeze on your side.

Joel's breath skirts across your neck when he mutters, "You think I'm gonna blame you for havin' a good time?"

His lips graze the shell of your ear as he speaks, and his words have a secrecy to them, an intimacy you hadn't seen from him before. You pay attention to the feel of his lips on your skin - they're soft and gentle, but know where to drag along in all the right places.

It's enough to leave your knees wobbling in your drunken stupor, high purely off of his touch, head spinning as you search for a new sensation.

"It has been pretty fun," you reply between trembling breaths.

There's a subtle brush of lips against your neck when he speaks, "I'd say I'm havin' a pretty good time."

Your knees practically buckle beneath you.

The rush of it all has you pulled back from him now, staring at him with surprised eyes. It's not that you didn't enjoy or accept that move, just that quickly, in front of so many people...

Joel's look shifts to something of embarrassment, "Maybe I've had a lil' too much."

You let out a nervous laugh, "I think I'm right there with you, I... I'm sorry."

He doesn't ask what the apology is for. He knows exactly which line was crossed. The hardened look returning to his eyes tells you that this moment of bliss is coming to an end.

"You don't got anything to be sorry for," the thick Texas accent is palpable in his reassurance. "I'm bein' a fool."

A fool. For doing this.

Hopefully he can't see the way that word breaks you. You force a bigger smile, a dismissive one that says 'we can just forget this ever happened', with a wave of a hand.

You offer, "Like you said, just having a good time."

His smile is wry. There's something unreadable in his expression.

Nonetheless, his grip of your waist loosens, releasing you as the fiddle in the background song comes to a silent end. Something akin to tension hangs in the air between you, pulled taught like a string to be severed.

"Well, I won't keep ya any longer. I... appreciate the dance. I know you're probably itchin' to get back in bed, so..." Joel says, trailing off, pressing his lips into a thin line.

You nod, collecting yourself, "Y-Yeah, probably good to get some sleep soon. You, too."

Joel smiles again, but his heart isn't in it like before.

He gives you a quick pat on the shoulder, eyes averted, "Get home safe, alright?"

Before you can wish him the same, he's lost amidst the crowd.

Hello, my sweethearts! So glad to be developing this story more, and I hope you've been enjoying so far! If you'd like, vote in the poll below for how'd you like to see this story develop (if you catch my drift)

As always, thank you so much for your support. And if you're new, it's nice to meet you! Love you all!

-Bunny

{all banners/dividers are from cafekistune on Tumblr}

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us 2 #bunny writes #smut #smut writing #fanfiction #tlou2 #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal

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toxicanonymity · 6 months

Text

raider analysis

Warnings: angst, references to violence, captivity, references to past assault/abuse, warnings from the related posts this is analyzing.

A/N: this is about the hypothetical from today, plus some about the 🐶 (goes into Hunger). Keep in mind I share these because some people enjoy it, not because i want you to read it like AP Lit, lol. 🫣

------

Ok, the kinda tearjerking exchange (not my favorite kind of jerking, but it happened, sorry) starts off

“‘Member what I said after ya ran?” You nod. “that you only want me if I'm good?” A tear runs down your cheek.

I have to admit I'm sad for both of you in this moment. You especially, sweet pea. But also, Joel regrets how he treated you in the aftermath of your escape, and he can't undo it. He's mostly thought about the physical part of it (glimpse of this in the yoga drabble). Now hearing you paraphrase his words, he's faced with the fact that it's even worse than he's been beating himself up over (deservedly, tbf).

As far as you running away, the main thing that reassured Joel was how you said it wasn't about him, it was the other guys, to which he said you gotta talk to him when something's bothering you. So in his eyes that was his main point. But before he calmed down enough to express that, he was angry and it made a real impression on you. Your main takeaway was that his interest in you (and your safety) was conditional. You don't think about it a lot these days, and in the big picture it's outweighed by his extreme possessiveness, but it's a thread of insecurity and the first thing that comes to mind when he asks if you remember what he said.

For Joel, there's a whole other conversation happening here (with himself) under the surface.

In this convo when Joel says “that was real bad,” it all was, including what he did in response. When he asks “we’re past that, right?” he means all of it. He wishes that day would just go away. It's also kind of an empty hope related to what he's done to you. He doesn't think he deserves forgiveness or love, but at this point he also doesn't want you to live in fear of him or only stay for that reason.

You answer as if he just wants to know you wont run away again, and that's still nice to hear. He latches onto that answer as a momentary "out" from feeling the weight of what he's done, reminding himself what's supposed to really matter to him–that you're "his"--like your answer assumed he was thinking.

—--

Also, a word about the dog. Not everything with the dog is profound. I like doggos and think they should have one. But, the initial interaction/freeing him from the collar is meaningful if you consider who else has been chained in this story (but not lately). And there's more parallels you can draw if you want to, but I also support just enjoying the little guy.

In the same chapter, it's the first time we see Joel take you out with him as a capable person (armed). Then he even lets you go into the forest alone. The reason he ultimately goes in after you is because he's worried about you. In general, Joel wants to keep you for his own sake but is also scared of what could happen to you on your own (he's almost seen it). You're legitimately worried about the dog’s well-being and think he needs you, but you also just want him around.

Joel despises the addict and the way he treated his own dog. Joel hates himself, too. His thoughts coming out of the forest reveal he’s coming for the junkie as a stand-in and what he really wants is to hurt everyone who ever hurt you. He knows he's one of those people. I'm not saying he wants to hurt himself but some of the aggression he takes out on other men (when a simple bullet would suffice) is from his own self hatred. Normally these men have something in common with him.

Joel initially rejects the dog, not wanting another someone to take care of distracting him from protecting you. But later the dog demonstrates he's more than meets the eye and has a lot to offer and for good reason Joel seems to come around, even if he won't say it. Despite that progress, in the hypothetical from today we still want more for the dog. The dog deserves more. We still want more for sweet pea who is emotionally starving and has been subjected to Joel's coldness in her previous attempts to get closer to him. She deserves more. Like maybe a kiss at least (when she's awake). In night air we see why Joel struggles with that, but he keeps making progress. At least he's kissing your other lips.

-----

----

Thank you for reading and being invested <3. Joel's a bad guy but tbh I identify with and pour myself into both these characters in different ways.

I'm tired but this isn't exhaustive 😅 your thoughts and interpretation are valid, too.

#raider!analysis

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joeys-babe · 9 months

Text

(his arm veins in this pic- oh. my. god.)

Someday We’ll Be Together

Chapter 7: We good

————————————————————————

(joe's pov)

i woke up this morning to my doorbell bringing rung repeatedly.

groaning as i rolled over, i hit my phone. the screen lit up showing the time as 8:47. on off days i tried to sleep in, but here we are.

when the ringing didn't let up i threw a pair of shorts on and went downstairs. i opened the door and y/n's mom was revealed.

"morning joe" - your mom smiled

"i'm going back to bed." - joe turned and walked back into the house

"no sir. we need to talk." - your mom

"did y/n send you? because if so, i'm not talking." - joe

"no, i came here on my own. thought you might want to talk about what went down yesterday."

- your mom

"i tried to apologize. y/n was persistent on not excepting my apology, she said something that ticked me off, i walked upstairs. there's the summary." - joe

"she told me what she said to you. she really feels bad about it, and she doesn't want to fight with you. you know she cares about you a lot, it was just in the moment and she wasn't thinking straight. you know how she is joe, she seeks for your approval of everything and when you were ignoring her because you didn't agree with what she was doing.. it really made her upset." - your mom

"i- i know, but that doesn't mean what she said doesn't hurt. i was vulnerable with her about something i was going through and she used it against me." - joe

"she didn't eat dinner last night, and cried for i dont even know how long. she really does feel bad." - your mom said and joe crossed his arms

"it hurt a little more you know because of i realization i had the day before." - joe nervously looked down at the ground and started playing with the bracelets on his wrist

"what's that?" - your mom smiled, hopeful that joe was going to admit to her what you did yesterday

"those feelings i had for y/n back in college, they're back. i don't think they ever truly went away either." - joe

"aww joe that's so sweet." - your mom

"i'm glad to finally get that off my chest. but i don't know what to do, we barely talk anymore. i think she's made it very clear that she doesn't feel the same way." - joe

if only he knew, your mom thought.

"she's still asleep, what if you woke her up and you guys talked it out. i hate to see you guys like this, you two have been inseparable since birth." - your mom

"yeah. i'm gonna get dressed and fix my hair first." - joe

she gave me a pointed look, which i automatically knew what she meant by.

"before you say anything, i'm getting ready to feel better about myself.. not to impress her." - joe

"mhm" - your mom walked out of joes house and shut the door

now that she was gone, i went back upstairs and into my bathroom to get ready.

i brushed my teeth and fixed my hair before throwing a t-shirt on and walking downstairs to put shoes on.

a few minutes later i was walking into the y/l/n's house. y/n's mom gave me a smile, happy that i followed through with talking to y/n.

i walked up the stairs and down the hallway as quiet as possible, before getting to her room and slowly opening the door.

y/n was sprawled out on her bed, the covers shoved down to the foot of it. i took in her outfit, the bengals shirt of mine i let her wear to my practice and a pair of the tiniest sleep shorts. fuck.

oh god joe, keep it together.

i closed my eyes and did a few deep breathes, trying to calm myself down.

now that i had composed myself, i bent down and moved some of her hair out of her face. she's so beautiful.

y/n stirred a bit but didn't fully wake up so i tapped her shoulder a few times.

"what?" - you drawled out with a whine

"wake up sleepyhead." - joe smiled

you felt your heart stop as you heard joes voice, he's the last person you thought would be the source of the shoulder tapping.

"joe?" - you

"yeh, i didn't like how things went yesterday and i want to figure it out." - you

"so you wake me up without warning?" - you chuckled slightly

"your moms idea, not mine" - joe said defensively

y/n sat up and brought the covers over herself before patting the spot next to her, of course i happily sat down.

"i'm sorry for walking away from you yesterday. i could've handled that situation better." - joe

i looked at y/n when she stayed silent for a few seconds but she just stared at me before pulling me into a hug.

"it's all my fault, joe. stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault. i don't want to fight with you, you've made me the happiest person ever my entire life." - you

"i don't want to fight either." - joe

"i know you want me to be happy, and you're more than capable of protecting yourself and me." - you

"im so glad you're my best friend." - joe

"me too." - you

"so.. we good?" - joe pulled away and looked at your expression

"yeah" - you smiled

"good, anything i missed that you want to tell me" - joe

"not really. nothings really went down." - you

"you haven't told me about your date with tee yet, how'd it go?" - joe

"it went good, but he said we were better off as friends.. which i agree with honestly." - you

i had to really keep it together to not jump up and start doing a happy dance. in my head i was screaming yes, yes, yes!!

"damn, sorry. i knew you liked him. it wasn't because of me, right?" - joe

"no, we'd just be better off as friends." - you lied, it was completely because of joe and the fact you were in love with him

"okay good." - joe

"how's your love life?" - you

"nonexistent" - joe scoffed

"oh please, there's hundreds- probably thousands of girls lined up to date you." - you

"yeah maybe, but there's a girl that i have my heart set on. i don't think she likes me like that though." - joe

why'd i say that. now if she asks who i'm gonna have to come up with a lie.

"you should tell her how you feel, you'll never know unless you tell her. if she doesn't feel the same way she's pretty dumb, you're a great guy joe and any girl would be lucky to have you."

- you

"i plan on telling her, i just don't know when or how. i want to wait till the perfect moment." - joe

"she's a lucky girl" - you smiled, deep down your heart was breaking with every word joe said

i felt my phone buzz in my pocket and when i got it out i cursed under my breath.

"what? everything okay?" - you

"i forgot that there's this team dinner tomorrow. it's supposed to be like dressier, and i really don't want to go." - joe

"why not? sounds fun to get all dressed up." - you

"not fun to have to like 80th wheel your teammates." - joe

"oh you don't have a date?" - you

"nope. when this was planned i was still with lexie, and we know how that went." - joe

"there's tons of girls that would love to go with you, you're like a heartthrob." - you

i rolled my eyes and glared at her, causing her to laugh.

"i'm not going with some rando- wait, do you have plans tomorrow night?" - joe

"i'm unemployed and living with my parents, of course i'm free." - you

"do you wanna go with me?" - joe

"to your dinner?" - you

"yeah. the team already knows you, you can talk to the girls, and you're a girl that i feel comfortable with." - joe smiled

"sounds fun.. yeah, i'll be your date." - you

"thanks." - joe

"of course, anything for you." - you

i smiled before standing up from her bed.

"i'm sure you want to get ready for the day so i'll get out of your hair. it starts at 8 so i'll pick you up around 7:25, okay?" - joe

"okay sounds good.". - you

"then it's set. it's a date." - joe

"it's a date." - you smiled softly as joe walked out of your room and shut the door behind him

(y/n's pov)

A DATE?!?!?

_________________________________

authors note: ooooooooooooooo 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

hope you enjoyed ❤️

#bengals #joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader

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ships-bynoa · 2 months

Text

"is he still him?" Nat asked with his dying breath.

poor baby Mich is confused and angry in this episode, while Rick is desperate and afraid for her.

first, can we get into her poor imitation of a b as Dana Bethune? cause she didn't even try, looooool. she could not be arsed to pretend, especially after the desperate attempt Rick made to send her away on that boat. after that, of course, she's acting up but at the same time, i was like, babe, look at her where you areeeee. even when Pearl questions her, she's giving snark. now in hindsight, it's hilarious how boss she is that she can't hide it, but in the moment i was screaming at the tv "stooooop it!!" this was such a tense episode. knowing she wouldn't die did not change that. cause if Rick had to blow Pearl's head off for reaching for that knife, all hell woulda broken loose for them both. not being fully prepared for the worst proved a grave mistake when facing Negan.

i get it. she's confused and she was expecting a different energy from him, but at the same time, she's seeing the scale of the place. she could've tried even a little even though things escalated pretty quickly after Jadis. she has no idea all the shit he had to do just to protect her in that one episode. he had no time to get into the details.

it's not that she can't play a b either. she was able to play a b to Rick's a a few times when she got to the prison and went to his home town with Carl to gain his trust. she toed the line between a and b when she needed to.

but for a good minute she's scared with him telling her to go that the man she came for and loves is gone. he has no idea what she went through to find him, to get this far. she left their babies. she almost died and she lost her friends who helped her get as far as she did only for rick to tell her to go? her heart is breaking and she doesn't even know the half of it yet when it comes to rick's ordeal nor does he know her scars. but to her, if he's sending her away then why did she do all of this? if he isn't rick anymore, who did she do all of this for?

love the themes of, who are they now and how do they navigate this new dynamic? living vs surviving and the theme of knowing when to go and when to stay. which i'm sure will be half the battle of episode 4. do they stay or do they go?

i mean Rick would not have survived had he not surrendered to some extent. he had to adapt and she didn't. she still had her freedom. her anger is justified because what has the crm done to her man? but the more time she spent there, hopefully, she could see exactly what he must have had to endure to even entertain staying while she went. Rick is right when he says they have to be afraid - there should be a healthy amount of fear so they don't make the same mistakes they did when they handled Negan and the saviours.

i'll say character-wise, i would have loved seeing Danai play into Dana a bit more just for fun.

Pearl's attempt on her life made him frantic and he made the mistake of telling 'chonne they were done and has a lot of making up to do for that even though it was a desperate attempt to save her. her rage is justified but needs to be directed at the crm because what have they done to him? hopefully she comes to see in 4 exactly what he must have had to endure and vice versa.

gosh, they're both hurting so much and i need Rick to hold Michonne and reassure her it wasn't all for nothing. what she went through. and for her to tell him she understands he did what he had to to survive but that they don't surrender. they fight because they're fighters. and then sexy time and RJ reveal and next steps. together. go back with a plan or run.

outside of Richonne, the actual plot is asking for much. Okafor and Nat both impressed upon our heroes that the crm can't be left to do as it's been doing.

#michonne #michonne grimes #danai gurira #rick grimes #andy lincoln #twd: the ones who live #the ones who live spoilers #twd #nesha and noa #richonne #noa posts

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magpie-murder · 7 months

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LITERALLY gay ppl. Upcoming spoilers for where mischief lies for anyone reading!!

When Theo and Loki both wished they could make the other accepted I wept. When Loki revealed he had the stones my mouth fell open and I had to put the book down. When Loki started his whole monologuing on how he caught Amora I needed a moment to be gay. This book has made me feel so many things and also the portrayal of Thor was so good because I feel it showed how much Odin really fucked up the relationship with him and Loki. Thor and Loki are brothers and Thor supported his brother when it didn't mean facing his father's wrath and the book just does this so well. The little moments of Thor going to apologize just after he threw Loki under the bus because with their father it's always "it's him or me"

i absolutely love all the asks about lwml, by the way ! i have not been doing so good lately and it's really nice to be able to discuss this book, it genuinely helps a lot

below the cut: spoilery ramble about the relationship between thor and loki pre-mcu (as shown in loki: where mischief lies) and how odin's abuse ripped apart and isolated the both of them

(rebloggers please do not tag as thorki)

oh my god the scene where thor throws loki under the bus... i could talk about that scene for HOURS.

this book gives so much nuance to thor as well, even though he's absent for the bulk of the plot. i absolutely adore it. and it's absolutely no wonder that loki ended up the way that he did, when he couldn't even find safety in his relationship with his own brother.

despite the fact that it was fucked up of him to do, and despite how deeply hurtful it was, it made so much sense for thor to do. and the implication that he is, on some level, just as afraid of odin as loki is, to the point that he'd be that quick to avoid sharing the blame??

thor KNOWS how poorly odin is willing to treat loki, and neither of them have the full picture, so he doesn't entirely understand WHY. it makes sense that he'd be terrified of odin, and i think that fact makes it hurt even more that he wouldn't protect loki in that moment. all loki had ever known from odin was being repeatedly and ruthlessly reminded that he is the second choice and the black sheep, and thor knows this on a deep enough level that he's terrified of being treated the same way, but he couldn't give loki aid at his own expense

i Love, Love, Love how impressive this book makes their mcu character arcs from Thor 1 through Dark World. even loki's death feels so heartbreaking, knowing how few moments in his life were spent having thor's full support, and he decided to give his life to save his brother anyway.

it makes their scenes in Avengers 1 so much more emotional to me. because loki, canonically under the influence of the mind stone, AND directly post-suicide attempt, is not at all in his right mind. i cannot imagine how it felt for thor, seeing him in that state. especially since that may have been one of the first times in his life that he wasn't afraid to protect loki, because for once, he was not having to protect him against ODIN. i assume the entire thing brought a LOT of thor's compartmentalized feelings about loki's position in his life to the surface.

god. this book really rekindled my love for these characters

#váli.txt #ask and ye shall be answered #loki #loki where mischief lies #loki: where mischief lies #lwml #thor #brodinsons #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #loki odinson #thor and loki

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theomnicode · 1 year

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Old but good; analyzing Saitama vs Genos

Wonder if the Saitama and Genos spar is the first time someone actually takes Saitama seriously, as a person with serious ability and as a person who can be legitimately threathening and a respectable fighter.

With Genos going all out and not underestimating or belittling Saitama's ability and instead calling him out on not fighting seriously enough because he was just avoding hits and not striking back, really won Genos quite a few points in Saitama's book. That Genos noticed it in the first place that Saitama was holding back and noticed it very fast to boot, spoke of keen intellectualism and analytical skills.

When he was stupendously shocked instead of idk, fainting after a Death punch, Genos showed he had actual guts to face death head on too and wasn't just all talk and no show and that's why Saitama chose to invite him out on dinner later. Genos was trying to impress Saitama, so Saitama tested him and chose to reveal his full ability in return and was happy with what he found since Genos didn't run away screaming.

He slaps genos forehead with a knowing smile and eye-brow raise to get him out of his shock; it's not every day a guy has to face death head on and lives to tell the tale.

It is something Saitama has faced himself multiple times when he was training to become stronger, so he would know the feeling quite well.

Having the composure to still be standing in the face of Saitama's Serious punch means Genos can practically face anything the world throws at him without flinching and still rise to the challenge and that's all the confirmation Saitama needs if he's to actually take Genos as disciple. Someone hanging around him would come face to face with world ending threats of far higher caliber than is the norm, of that he has no doubt. Just for the sake of their own protection, they'd have to rise to Saitama's level if they want to hang around with him because Saitama is a monster magnet.

And maybe after a Death punch, anything else is practically too tame to even induce a shock, so Genos would be better prepared to face destructive force like that and not freeze and be able to dodge.

The invitation for spontaneous late dinner seems to be just as much of an silent apology as it is an invitation that Saitama wanted to get to know Genos better. The guy impressed him enough to be quite interesting. Genos being legitimately interested in HIM and not deterred despite showing just how dangerous he could be, made him interesting.

(Saitama was going to pay for both since he invited Genos, he planned out the restaurant based on his low funds and based on that it had good Udon and the evening time gave it a more "romantic" overtone, so yea, it was "technically" a date too.)

I also highly doubt that Saitama looking back at Genos was just because of he was unsure if Genos liked udon, but more about second-guessing himself if he had actually went too far after all, because Genos still wasn't reacting and wondering if he had actually scared him too much or something. Saitama doesn't Death punch people for fun, so there could've always been an adverse reaction.

Saitama was also seemingly second-guessing himself in spontaneously asking Genos out for dinner in the first place. What if he was making some kind of social plunder here because Genos was just staring at him with a weird expression?

Fortunately, it wasn't a plunder for Saitama.

Unfortunately, Saitama probably also feels like he's just a wallflower compared to Genos and all the people vying for Genos' attention afterwards; Amai-mask the Handsome Kamen and all the fangirls, one who blatantly just asked Genos to shake her hand is a source of envy because he wasn't confident enough to do anything remotely the same. Genos is a show-stopper and Saitama definitely noticed this and so he doesn't want his new disciple to even work with him to steal the glory. Saitama's low self-worth does not do him any favours.

Instead of getting rookie-crushers trying to crush his hopes of succeeding, Genos even gets treated differently. People didn't seek out to test his ability as S-ranker, but seemingly sought him out for entirely different reasons, not interested in fighting skills...and the only connecting dot Saitama seems to figure out that Genos just looks far more handsome and he's popular because of his looks, so Genos already forges better connections immediately. Fangirls don't want to fight, far from it, they just want to know him.

The lower the rank, the less popular and uglier the hero is. The higher the rank, the more popular, better connected and good looking the hero seems to be.

Not unlike in multiple irl job circles where people who have the looks get more foot inside the door and the higher status you are, one often just looks the role.

It just perpetuates the poor self-image he has of himself when other C-rank heroes claim they are popular too (Tank toppers), so Saitama is just an exception to the rule of being unpopular C-ranker, so it must be something about himself that is wrong. That he's the only common denominator in being unpopular and it HAS to relate to how lame and plain he looks. Because he doesn't look like a buff Tank topper either, that must be one of the reasons he's not popular.

(Saitama's self-image is really quite awful innit? I'd need to do some serious research to see if it has gotten even a smidge better)

Genos is S-rank, he's C-rank. Genos looks pretty, he does not. Genos is amazing, he is lame. Genos is popular, he is unknown and disliked. Genos has nice hair, he does not and worse, he used to have hair but lost it and all that remains is a shiny bald head. There is a lot for Saitama to be envious about when he just tries to be himself, but nobody likes him when he tries to be just himself. Too plain to ever be noticed. Upward comparing himself to Genos doesn't do his self-esteem any favours and he plainly shoots down any kind of flattery.

It is no wonder if Saitama feels like he just can't compare to Genos and has taken this long to actually show any kind of affection and confidence to express his true feelings; his poor self-esteem just made him feel like he never had a chance anyway from the start and Genos is definitely out of his league, being everything he hoped he could be. And probably not actually really interested in him in that way despite titivating himself to Saitama, that was just an ulterior motive just like his empty flattery before meteor incident, plain to see through.

After is a different story, because Saitama did something heroic, so there was an actual reason behind it and Saitama can appreciate Genos being more honest and cheering him up and listening to him rant.

It does send up quite the mixed signals however, so it takes a long time to figure out his intentions just to be on the safe side.

Can't say for sure if Saitama has stopped comparing himself to Genos completely, but his looks and lack of popularity are no doubt still a sore spot, even if he has since learned to greatly appreciate Genos and how he complements him instead of highlighting the differences.

#opm #one punch man #saitama #genos #saigenos #genosai #saitama vs genos #analysis #opm meta #self-image #upward comparison #spar #self-esteem #Old but good

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specterthief · 1 year

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so i just finished utena and it rewired my brain, as it does, and as i was watching i noticed some things:

i tweeted about this, but like. i already knew enough to have the impression before watching the series that there was probably a comparison to be drawn between maruki and akio but i can't get over the fact that the exterior shot of his palace looks like they just combined the staircase around the elevator to the dueling arena and akio's planetarium (which are really one and the same already) into one thing

and the whole nature of the planetarium, and what that reveals—that akio was always being dishonest about his work, that the planetarium wasn't about the stars as he claimed to endear himself to utena (and as it holds meaning to anthy, who says she wants to stay in the planetarium rather than see the stars outside in the real world) but about projecting the "fairy-tale illusions" to control the people within his walled garden—the same could be said about maruki's laboratory, and what's revealed about him. using cognitive psience to treat trauma was always a minor part of his goal. for a very long time—back to before he even first awakened his powers and used them on rumi—he wanted more than that, to preemptively control people deemed likely to commit crimes. controlling the cognition of all humanity was his expressed goal—a mission he thought he was chosen for by a god—before he had any idea that the phantom thieves would inadvertently grant him that much power. he can't even deny it when akechi accuses him of brainwashing sumire for his own self-satisfcation, merely argues that the ends justify the means if his reality is better for everyone. the "treatment" of sumi's specific trauma by destroying her real identity (and her being driven to such desperation that she'd attack the person she loves to stay in the false reality rather than face the truth) is just a byproduct, an experiment toward a greater end that places him in a position of godhood, of ultimate power to change the world in his image. to create his own garden of eden.

like, fuck, this certainly sounds familiar:

even on a more surface level—a member of the school faculty who's in the position with an ulterior motive, who the female students find extremely attractive (seriously, it's wild how often NPCs comment on maruki's looks or having feelings for him throughout his entire tenure at shujin—one even remarks on how good he looks in white.) a seemingly benevolent character who has a pre-established relationship with a young girl who's both the greatest victim of his schemes and violently devoted to protecting the fantasy he's created, who singles out the protagonist and bonds with them over time far more closely than would be appropriate for their positions, who uses that bond to try and achieve the power to change the world, only for the protagonist to refuse every temptation and take that power back...

and even looking at other symbols��in utena's duel with kanae, akio's fiancée (and the reason for him being in his position at ohtori,) she's surrounded by bouquets of white lilies that are identical to the one ella carries:

while in kanae's final appearance, she's shown catatonic as akio and anthy feed her apples—

—and apples are something that come up in relation to maruki constantly, whether the obvious presence of them as the fruit of eden in his palace (up yet another spiral staircase that resembles the path to the dueling arena):

or more prominently in the final boss fight:

or in his character art:

or references in various scenes, like in this bit of foreshadowing about making ryuji's "wish" come true:

or at more length with sumire:

and as the apples in utena can be compared both to the forbidden fruit of eden and the poison apple eaten by snow white, sumire, like kanae, is seen rendered unconscious (in a throne befitting a princess) in maruki's palace:

and despite her more obvious connection to cinderella via her persona, she has a weapon referencing snow white:

akio's obviously a much more overtly sinister character, as well an openly predatory one (which, to be clear, i definitely do not think is a supported read of maruki's actions in canon—manipulative, dishonest and terrible with setting appropriate boundaries with his teenage patients yes, acting with any legitimately predatory designs on anyone no) but the similarities are still striking to the point that they seem like they could be intentional, and i just wanted to try and get the coherent thoughts i had on all of this down in one place

and it is known both from statements from the guidebook interviews and from early content left in the final build of the game that significant amounts of maruki's story and palace were changed very late into development with the intention of making him more sympathetic and his deal more tempting, so i do wonder if this connection might have been even more clear in an earlier iteration of royal's story (though given they did have concerns about making him sympathetic from the outset, i don't think it's likely he was ever intended to be as clearly villainous as akio)

#mine #long post #persona 5 royal #revolutionary girl utena #meta #but not really #just a lot of rambling about similarities that might be coincidence and also might not #third semester brainrot #there are so many other random details just connecting to utena stuff in general that i could have gone on about #but i think this mess is long enough #utena brainrot

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ystrike1 · 1 year

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Lady Isabella's Path To Happiness - By Dulcche (6/10)

She is armed with a husband strong enough to kill dragons, and an actual dragon. She is the most beautiful and tragic woman in the land, and her only flaw is being too skinny. Her husband's obsession with her spans over two lifetimes, and everyone is jealous of the man who holds the greatest beauty. If only this was actually good enough to explore that premise.

The art is low quality. The eyes look like stickers most of the time. Boo.

Moving on. Isabella was born to take on a curse. She was birthed by a surrogate mother, and she is expected to croak when she reaches adulthood.

Isabella Helsington grows a spine in two chapters. It's great. She realizes that nobody in her family cares about her, so she accepts a weirdly good marriage proposal. She's always known she was a curse sheild, but she thought her brother Igar cared about her. He doesn't. He thinks she's a pity prop he can use to look good. Isabella wants to die somewhere far away from her asshole siblings and parents.

The Duke of the north did not send the marriage proposal. His parents did. Memory loss bullshit ensues. Their son, Cleor, was deeply in love with Isabelle in a past life. Her tragic death seemed suspicious, and there's a time loop on this plot somewhere.

The youngest daughter of the northern Noverdic family also idolizes Isabella, because she's actually special!!! I'll explain later but the Noverdic's are all supernaturally strong. They become Isabella's guards.

Isabella's maid, Joanne, literally tries to murder her after she meets her husband. Joanne thinks the Duke is too good for her, and she should just die. Cleor has her murdered offscreen. You see...as soon as he saw Isabella he was obsessed. He doesn't know why. She's just so perfect. He loves killing for her, and his family agrees so whatever...

(yandere family?)

There are some sweet moments. Cleor tries to impress Isabella. She thinks she's going to die so she's distant. He gets obsessive about protecting her after the attempted murder. He starts carrying her everywhere because she is too precious to walk. His doting is mixed with unhinged ideas about her needing to be constantly guarded.

In their past life she was a happy bride, and her great secret power melted the frozen north. Her mere existence made it the most prosperous land in the country. This is ok because that means the Noverdic family has a real reason to worship her.

This is where I draw the line. Isabella is a dragon master. She wasn't cursed. The Helsington first borns kept dying because they didn't know they were dragon blessed. See, if you're a dragon master that's a cool thing. BUT if you don't find a dragon partner before adulthood you die. I was so excited when her identity as a blessed person was revealed. I wanted to see her learn to ride and use her dragon partner....and it's a fat mascot. No cool dragon. It also talks and kisses her ass like everybody else. The author dangled a dragon rider protagonist in my face, and they took it away.

Unforgivable!!!

Anyways Cleor is a real yandere though. He does like to spoil Isabella, but he enjoys killing for her even more. He also gets jealous of her pet fat mascot dragon, because he wants her to be fully reliant on him.

Nearly half the chapters are dedicated to Isabella's beauty. I'm not kidding. I like Cleors design, but alot of the panels with him have no detail. Also I really, really, really love the art on the original novel cover. Webtoon artists kinda have to move on from the flower stickers and the cute uwu aesthetic. I wish some of these authors would TRY to stand out. Cleor is an actual madman...do something with him??? Ugh.

Ugh.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #Lady Isabella's Path To Happiness

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nintendowife · 6 months

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I completed Piofiore: Fated Memories on Nintendo Switch about a month ago. Piofiore is a popular otome visual novel about mafia in 1920's Italy. The promise of a mature story paired with beautiful art style enticed me to buy the game. I was also curious to find out why the otome fandom calls a certain love interest in the game a "trashbando".

The protagonist Liliana "Lili" Adornato is an upstanding young woman raised by church and she gets tangled in the world of organized crime. Most of the love interests in the game represent three competing mafia families: Falzone, Visconti and Lao Shu. The mafia setting lends a natural frame for mature themes that include violence, human trafficking, torture and sexual assault.

Each love interest has a bad ending, good ending and best ending. In addition to this they all have a short after story. Yang's route was easily my favorite - lots of action and fun events. Orlok's bad ending was memorable with its brutality - poor guy. Some of the routes weren't super interesting. Dante's route had the ingredients to grab my attention but the execution wasn't the best. I ended up slightly disappointed with the overall story not completely revealing a certain key factor of the plot. Maybe the rest of the "mystery" is reserved for the sequel, Piofiore: Episodio 1926? I could have done with less romance and more story even though Piofiore apparently isn't that loaded with romance fluff.

I found it interesting how a character could appear wildly different on a different route. Some may claim this is inconsistent writing but I find it logical to incorporate different points of view to characters' personality and have them act differently according to their motives in different situations. Being a loving and caring person towards someone doesn't mean they couldn't have a sadistic tendency towards people who oppose them.

What comes to favorite characters, at first glance I thought Gilbert would be my top pick - manly man with a badass eye patch. Gilbert had his moments with some funny light-hearted scenes and his gentlemanly ways. Especially the way he spoke to Dante made me chuckle: "Yo Dante! What's with the face? You sick or something?". But I ended up liking Yang the most. Yang was such a peculiar character and his attitude and dialogue made me laugh. I guess I'm part of the trashbando-loving "Yang gang" now. My husband pointed out that it's usually the bald 50+ year-olds or the red-haired ones that strike my fancy and that was true in this case too. The various side characters were a good addition to the cast.

There's a good amount of high quality CG images to unlock in the game. I was especially impressed with the intricate details in clothing and jewelry. A common occurrence was me commenting "oo wow, look at those amazing details in the dress" during a scene where the protagonist and a love interest kiss.

The game's user interface is pure eye candy. The usual quality of life features like skipping previously read content, dialogue history, quick save/load and chapter select are present. The music was pretty good too. Voice acting was top notch but I was unhappy the protagonist wasn't voiced (and her portrait wasn't shown during her dialogue). I recall a few typos and grammar mistakes in the game but overall I'd say the localization was done well.

My top complaint is that there was an absurd amount of dialogue about food but they hardly ever showed it in pictures. All kinds of delicious dishes and desserts kept being mentioned but I think they showed food only twice. Show me the food, dammit! Oh, and Nicola's fashion sense irked me. His outfit was so classy and then he had to accessorize with a tie that looks like it was barfed on.

Finishing all the routes and unlocking all content in the game took me 55 hours. I started playing in February and finally finished in October. I'm not the fastest reader and I have a chronic case of falling asleep when I try to play in bed in the evenings.

I liked the game but at some points I felt like the story was dragging. I didn't enjoy Piofiore quite as much as I did Café Enchanté and Variable Barricade for example. Maybe it's because Piofiore is a lot more serious in tone and doesn't have much in the way of humor. The art and Yang's route were the highlights for me. I'm still keen on playing the sequel at some point.

If you like some darker themes in your visual novels, Piofiore may be worth giving a shot.

#piofiore: fated memories #piofiore #otome game #visual novel #nintendo switch

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greatqueenanna · 9 months

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Destin Mattias and Change

Lieutenant Destin Mattias was the newest introduction to the Frozen family and fits right in alongside Queen Anna (and future King Kristoff, don't @ me) in Arendelle as her General.

In my Honeymaren analysis, I mentioned how she acted as a mentor character to Elsa, and guided to towards her true destiny. Destin has this same role, except for Anna instead - even more interesting, however, Anna actually acts as his mentor in return. He and Anna actually mirror each other and follow a very similar development through Frozen 2, revealing to us that Destin is actually a very deep character, even with his short time in the sequel.

Fun fact - Destin means 'destiny' in French, which falls in line with the overall themes in Frozen 2 and his role in the film.

Destin and Anna share a lot of similarities - their unwavering loyalty to those they care about, their love for Arendelle, and their sheer determination to do the right thing, even if it means sacrificing their own well-being.

However, the similarities do not stop there.

When we first meet Destin, he is wary of the Northuldra and the spirits due to what he had witnessed before being locked away in the woods. He was under the impression that the Northuldra attacked them, and somehow caused the death of the King he was loyal to.

Anna starts Frozen 2 with a similar mindset. She witnessed the spirits destroy Arendelle, and Elsa act secretive about the voice. Anna wasn't ready to trust the spirits, and she also wasn't readily willing to put the lives of the people she cared about, and the life she clinged onto, on the line. When Elsa proclaims she will help everyone in the woods, Anna is concerned "That's a pretty big promise, Elsa." then Anna remarks to Honeymaren with a more realistic promise "We'll do all we can."

Later on, Anna and Destin spend a moment together during the camp scene. They talk about a couple things, first about Hamila.

Anna remarks that Halima is still single, but Destin is conflicted about this. This is an interesting scene because it actually showcases something that Anna is trying to avoid. Change. Destin is saddened by the fact that someone he cares about is single, even though it benefits him because if he gets out of the woods, he can try to be with her. He cares more about Halima's happiness than if she is available to him, even though that would mean that something in his life was changed and he can't do anything about it.

Anna has to also face a similar issue. Anna doesn't want her life to change. She wants it to remain the same because she doesn't want to lose her happiness again. However, this comes into conflict when Elsa has a calling that could change the fabric of Anna's world - whether through Elsa leaving her behind or Elsa getting hurt. Thus, Anna is faced with this issue where she wants Elsa to be true to herself and be happy but is also struggling with the idea of Elsa's calling leading her away from Anna - either by choice or by death.

Thus, both Destin and Anna are faced with a similar issue - should they be happy that the person they care about is finding a life outside of them, or should they dread it? The good thing is that Destin gets to have his second chance with Hamila, and Anna can have Elsa in her life even while Elsa chases her calling.

The second thing they talk about is a prelude to The Next Right Thing.

Anna: What else do you miss? Lt. Mattias: My father. He passed long before all this. He was a great man, Built us a good life in Arendelle, But taught me to never take the good for granted. He'd say, "Be prepared! Just when you think you found your way, life will throw you on a new path". Anna: What do you do when it does? Lt. Mattias: Don't give up. Take it one step at a time and... Anna: Just do the next right thing. Lt. Mattias: Yeah, you got it.

Here, we see Destin unknowingly give Anna the best advice that she needs. Anna, as said, is struggling with change. Destin tells her how being prepared for change is important because life will always throw you something unexpected. The voice suddenly calling Elsa created a shift in Anna's life that she was not prepared for, or even wanted to acknowledge.

However, Anna has an inkling that things will change, no matter what she does, and she asks Destin how to deal with it. How does she deal with her life being different without her consent? And thus, he replies to her that she just needs to take everything one step at a time and do the next right thing. And when Anna is faced with the hardest moment of her life, she does just that and more.

We circle straight back to this during the Dam scene. Anna tries to convince Destin to let her destroy the dam. She tells him things that would ultimately change his perception and his very purpose. Destin swore to protect Arendelle and was loyal to his King, only for Anna to shatter the reality that he was living with for 34 years. Was he going to accept it and do the next right thing, or fight it for his own comfort?

Destin chooses to follow his father's advice and do the next right thing, even if it meant going against everything he stood for. Just as he helped Anna emotionally prepare for change, Anna helped him do the same. Thus, toward the end of the film, both Anna and Destin learn to trust the spirits and fight against injustice, even if it meant turning their backs on everything they knew.

Destin Mattias is an interesting and deep character that fully envelopes the themes and messages of Frozen 2, while also helping Anna and mirroring her own development. I hope he continues to play a significant role in the future of the franchise, and hopefully, he'll finally get to sing.

#Frozen 2 #Frozen #Anna #Destin Mattias #lieutenant mattias #Mattias #greatqueenanna/analysis

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mlobsters · 8 months

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supernatural s9e9 holy terror (w. eugenie ross-leming, brad bruckner)

embarrassing but even though i've read a lot of fic for seasons i haven't watched yet, i didn't even consider until that recap put those bits side by side (angels conning people into saying yes + ezekial) that the angel inside sam was like. up to no good in some fashion?? LOL. me n dean. i think i even know the bad angel's name because i've definitely seen it mentioned in fic 😂🤪 this is like how i was kind of on sam's side about ruby, like i know she's up to something but we can make this work!! haha

SAM No, it's more than Vesta! I mean, this kind of thing's been happening to me. Like, like, there are chunks of time just … missing. Like there are times when I'm… not here.

💔 sam has a lot of reasons to worry about the state of his mental health, mad at dean, mad at the show. etc etc.

DEAN Yeah, because … damn straight the trials. They whacked you, man. You're not up to warp speed yet, okay? But you will be. Would I lie?

more mad at the show/dean. like, why make him say that. why make sam feel that way, doubting himself and trusting dean when he shouldn't. a pal said it was the righteous man's turn to fuck up now and dean's doubling down

literally just yelled "oh COME ON" i forgot about this. it was in the recap, but i already forgot. dean made that face and i was like, did he lie about something? i can't remember that either.

heaven politics have my brain glazing over yet again

other than giving dean the much needed turn to fuck up and need to grovel and beg for forgiveness, the only thing i like about this ezekial situation is dean's increasingly flustered reactions to him popping in

CASTIEL It is so good being together again. You know, this is my first beer as a human. I hope it's okay, me joining you? SAM Why wouldn't it be okay?

i'm happy that sam's happy to have cas around, and i feel like he'd have reason to be not happy with cas but honestly i have no idea where things were left between them. i lose track when it's a plotline every several episodes.

EZEKIEL-IN-SAM I told you. When I chose to answer your prayers and heal Sam, I chose sides. That means I'm not in good standing with certain angels. DEAN Okay, well, you know what? Cas isn't in good standing with any angel, all right? But here he is, ass on the line, fighting the fight. So tell me, what makes you so special?

what indeed! dean and i are both idiots 😂

METATRON Well, I'm really looking forward to this. EZEKIEL-IN-SAM Excuse me? METATRON Oh, please. I know who you really are. And it isn't Ezekiel. NOT-EZEKIEL-IN-SAM looks constipated.

got another funny transcription, thank you. gadreel reveal??? i'm going to be way less impressed with myself when it's someone else

CASTIEL You said the angel, Ezekiel, helped heal him. DEAN (looks down, avoiding the question) Look, I got to do anything I can to get him back. Now, if that means that we keep our distance from you for a little while, then... Then I don't have a choice. I don't feel good about it, but I don't have a choice. It's great to have your help, Cas. Okay, but we just can't work together. CAS looks sad.

understatement! good job dean, made him make the sad wet kitten face.

METATRON And yet you spent countless thousands of years locked in Heaven's darkest dungeon. And now you're hiding in this human, posing as Ezekiel.

i did not know that! i know nothing about gadreel just bad+sam. lol (and yet that wasn't enough of a clue!!)

METATRON And so … Plan "B." Rebuild Heaven as the place God envisioned it, only with a handpicked few. No more anemic functionaries like Bartholomew. And no more stupid angels. (consideringly) Maybe some funny ones.

i'm not down with calling cas stupid, and i don't know if this was meant to be a little shade on cas per se, but i did appreciate it nonetheless. because cas consistently makes the worst decisions. but he was funny there for a bit! let's go back to that

LOL this framing he looks like the big robot

the day the earth stood still (2008)

GADREEL-IN-SAM Humans do seem chaotic, Metatron. METATRON Which makes them fascinating, but... All that emotion. Geez. And the wasted energy. It's just... exhausting. GADREEL-IN-SAM I know. Sam Winchester... It is a mess in here. And the brother – I do not know where to start.

low hanging fruit but i'll take it

snorted.

pretty shot

wanna know a secret? i force myself to pay attention to the goings-on with cas and make sure i include bits of it whenever he's around only because he has such a large presence in fandom's mind. otherwise i kind of tune him out like i do the political machinations. he's around more than people like jody, his storylines never make much sense because he just makes the most batshit decisions, they talk about his relationship with dean more than they ever show it. it's such a weird combo. it's like we're all pretending he has a bigger part in the story than he ever does on screen. but we (the show) talk about it, and the fandom talks about what the show talks about. i may be too high for this thought process

see i forget about kevin too! and i like kevin. i love how completely fucking over this all he is. but he keeps plugging away, forgotten, somewhere.

no pressure. just a bunch of kids died too.

was cas trying to get caught? i'm confused

????? okay. needed to fill that torture quota

CASTIEL I've explained in detail. I don't know how Metatron's spell worked. Therefore, I can't assist in reversing it. I was an unwitting accomplice. MALACHI Ohhh. A dupe. The great Castiel. Valued and trusted Castiel. Top-of-the-Christmas-tree Castiel. No more than a dupe.

MALACHI Just following your example, Castiel. How many did you kill in Heaven? How many in the Fall? Oh, you didn't know? A host of angels died when they fell – Azrael, Sophia, Ezekiel

i was like, he got you there, cas! about the following your example thing but now cas finds out about not-ezekial, ok

i am so confused. cas sucking this dude's grace out

very domestic and sweet.

CASTIEL I… I did what I had to. I became what they've become. A barbarian.

i mean, not the first time, amirite

all right, dean and i got with the program, not-ezekial==bad.

DEAN You're gonna have to trust me, okay, trust that I told you everything that I can for now. Can you do that? KEVIN I always trust you. (DEAN nods.) And I always end up screwed. DEAN Oh, come on. Always? Not always.

cute cute. kevin's fun

i compulsively screenshot the bunker too because i'd like to try to understand the layout but i'm useless at it. i should just cheat and look it up. anyway, what's up with the weird bathroom vanity sinks in not-bathroom rooms. one in the kitchen, one in the war room place

s8e15 (mentioned it here too :p)

DEAN (hurriedly) No, you don't. I mean messed you up like almost dead. No more birthdays, dust to dust. Well, that messed me up, so I made a move, okay, a tough move about you without talking it over because you were in a coma.

oh, dean.

DEAN I tricked you into saying yes. It seemed like the only way. SAM (sighs) So... Again. You thought I couldn't handle something, so you took over! DEAN No, I did what I had to do! You would've never agreed to it, and you would've died. SAM Well, maybe I would've liked the choice, at least. DEAN We can do this – later. You can – you can kick my ass all you want. Right now, we got bigger problems.

i can feel that longstanding frustration-rage bubbling up that's so particular to a familial relationship

oh, gadreel fooled me too. i thought maybe he popped back in because dean was too slow.

and i knew kevin died (only recently read something that mentioned it, i generally avoid stuff around the time period i'm watching when reading but oops) but like. anticlimactic? :\ and as always, ALWAYS just when i start to really enjoy a side character they get killed off. womp womp. at least i didn't cry, that's something

instead i just sighed because "trust me, kevin" and "i always end up screwed :)" so now dean's gonna feel guilty. he's already feeling guilty enough, did we need that too? when they push too hard on the excessive dean whump, i get annoyed. like the whole 4 months=40 years, i enjoyed torturing people, etc. edgelord bullshit :P

the single tear of man pain has returned

bring it on (2000)

what i think of every time

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 9x09 #bring it on #spn 8x15 #kevin tran #rip kevin #the day the earth stood still #eugenie ross leming #brad buckner #spn bunker

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omegasmileyface · 8 months

Text

The Forest, the Trees, the Fire I: CATALYST

Chapter 2

Here's chapter 2! Most updates will be Tuesdays and Fridays, this one wasn't late on purpose hehe. Authors: @attackradish, @ectolemonades, me. Artist: @/crunchysart

For the full characters list, word count, content warning, and a directory to all the currently available chapters and related content, see the Table of Contents!

full summary: The world outside of Amity Park has learned about the existence of ghosts, and the time for first impressions has arrived. The delicate public consciousness could be disrupted by the slightest ripple. Danny Fenton is being ripped apart from all sides, and when he finally breaks, the ripples will be very big indeed.

warnings: none for this chapter

words: 2121

AO3 link

first chapter

next chapter

===

October 2, 2006

Tucker was already on his PDA— Florence— by the time Danny sat down for lunch. "It looks like the outside world is finally getting with the program on the whole 'ghosts existing' thing. I'm seeing ecto opinion pieces now that don't even spend half their length shouting about how they're not crazy!"

"Ooh, fun!" Sam unzipped her lunchbox to reveal it was full of crackers and some kind of fruit spread. Tucker dipped a finger in the spread to taste it and his face immediately scrunched up. Sam ignored this. "Maybe we'll see some new forms of Evangelism come out of all this. Mix up the American Christian playing field a little."

(Danny tried a taste too. It tasted sort of like blueberry, but way more bitter. The kind of stuff that grew in nature preserves and wasn’t sold in stores. Not bad.)

"Eh," said Tucker after a hearty swig of soda, "if they do appear, they'll just stick to one tiny area like every other Bold New Jesus Cult that's popped up in the last few decades. I've been thinking we should make some kind of blog about ghosts. We're experts! The rest of the world is gonna want to hear from us." He swooned in his spot at the lunch table. "Maybe we could even sell merch…"

"Hmm. Well, I think it could be good! No, not your newest business model. Calm down, Henry Ford."

Tucker pouted.

"The whole… public getting used to ghosts thing. I mean, it's gonna be a sensitive time for the public consciousness, since what people hear now is going to shape how they feel about ghosts forever, but… the more people hear about the dirty details, the harder it will be to hide stuff like the torture devices and whatnot." Sam hummed. "Though, it hasn't stopped the CIA before…"

"Oh! Conspiracy jar." Tucker held out his hand.

Sam rolled her eyes and handed him two quarters. "It's true, though."

Danny started tapping his foot. "What if it ends up being a bad thing?"

"Oh, so you were on earth for the conversation! Glad to see you, space cadet."

"Yeah, whatever." Danny took a bite just because he knew talking with his mouth full would annoy Sam. "Honestly, I was pretty cool with the thing we had going on where ghost things stayed in ghost land and the only people who bothered to interfere were the Guys in White. And UW Madison, I guess. What if it gets all… publicized? What if there becomes some kind of ghost fighting bureaucracy?"

The ghosts didn't even have a bureaucracy for themselves. Danny would know! Not that he could tell his friends about his involvement in ghost politics.

Tucker shrugged. "We might get money or college credit or something for our ghost fighting, then. Health insurance, even."

"No, Tuck, we're high schoolers. They'd probably just make us stop doing it."

"Oh," said Sam, "I thought you wanted to not have to be responsible for keeping the town safe."

"Duh!" Danny leaned onto the table. "But it's not that simple. It's like when you don't want to do the dishes, but you can't just let somebody else do them because they won't clean them correctly and that's just not worth it."

"Can't relate."

"No idea what you're talking about."

Danny huffed. "They'll probably do it wrong. Professional ghost fighters might try to take ghosts into custody instead of sending them back, or completely ignore why the ghosts came in the first place, or not understand what kinds of fighting are cool and what kinds are just straight-up evil."

Tucker smiled. "Ahh, you're afraid the humans will fight like humans."

"No! …Yes. I guess. And while help would be nice… I just feel like it wouldn't be worth the scrutiny. Generally speaking, the dead don't want to hear the living's opinion on them."

"Well, it's a good thing a lot of ghosts aren't dead, then," Sam said.

Tucker put Florence back in his bag. "You've both got points. From what I've been reading, there are people who are trying to push for ghost laws in other states, using the Dairy King thing as some kind of warning. 'They're already hiding among us! Quick, invent new kinds of bigotry, before it's too late!'"

Ew. Couldn't get one news story without it making things harder for him, huh?

Sam growled. Like, genuinely growled, as much her human throat could. "Well, if that's the case, maybe we couldn't trust America with such important knowledge of life and death just yet."

Danny rolled his eyes.

"Tucker," she continued, "maybe your info blog idea wasn't so bad."

Tucker reached out for a fist bump. Danny obliged.

"Hey, losers!"

And right on queue, it was time for Act II of lunch.

"Good evening, Dash," Tucker and Sam said in unison. Clearly, they'd been rehearsing that. Dash was taken aback for a second. He shook it off.

"You're all gonna be on my team in laser tag, right?"

Great, another permission slip Danny had missed. "Laser tag?"

"Yeah. On Friday. Keep up, Fen-fun-in-the-sun."

Sam tilted her head. "Dash, no offense, buddy, but if you don't like us, don't you want us on the opposite team? Not yours?"

"There is no opposite team. It's ghost laser tag. It's, like, a sponsored field trip by the GIW or something. Either way, students won't be targets. If I want an opportunity to tackle you when nobody's watching, I need you on my team."

Ghost laser tag? What did that even mean? Would they have ecto-weaponry? That couldn't be safe. Danny hoped he could skip out by getting detention or something.

"What a tantalizing offer. I bet teams are randomly assigned anyway."

"You'd better hope they are!" Dash turned his gaze directly onto Danny before backing away dramatically. "I'll see YOU on the field, Fenton. Better catch you carrying on the family legacy."

Tucker took his head out of his bag once it was safe. "…What did he even mean by that?"

Danny just sighed. That said it all, really.

===

"Ghost child, did you really not think to get me a gift for my birthday?"

"Skulker, you don't have a birthday."

Skulker ignored him. "Well, you're lucky that I got something for myself!" He brought out some absolute doohickey of a weapon, gleaming chrome in the turquoise moonlight. Those tubes couldn't serve any logical purpose, could they?

While Danny was questioning his understanding of Euclidean space, Skulker lunged forward and a part of the weapon flew off, angled right for his head.

Danny just barely swirled his body out of the way in time. "Hey!"

Skulker dove. Danny fled. The chase was on.

"What could you possibly want from me this time?"

"What do you think? I want my prize!"

Danny shouted to be heard over a swarm of missiles. "Oh, so we're back to hunting me for sport, then? Maybe stop trying so hard to damage the goods!" He spun around and aimed some sticky ectoplasm in Skulker's general direction.

"Nonsense!" Skulker turned his suit invisible. "If you can't avoid these attacks, your pelt's no good anyway."

Danny concentrated on his ghost sense and dodged a grapple from his left just in time. "Y'know, maybe it's for the best. If I'm hung up in your lair somewhere, I don't have to go to laser tag!"

Skulker halted his onslaught and smiled. "Laser tag?"

Danny huffed. "Yeah, my class is doing this ghost laser tag thing on Friday. My parents heard about it somehow, and they won't let me miss it. They think it'll help me 'prepare myself to join the family business!' or whatever."

Skulker continued to smile.

"Um. Sorry. So, laser tag is like a—"

"I know what laser tag is! As a matter of fact, ghost child, I'm a big fan of laser tag."

Danny sighed. "Of course you are."

"It is a shame that I cannot join you. But since I cannot, you are going to be my laser tag champion this Friday."

"Your what? Oh my God."

"If you will be representing me on the battlefield, you're going to need to have some skill! Beginning shooting practice!"

"No—" Danny caught a small ecto-gun automatically. "Huh. I didn't even know these came off your suit." He was shot in the side.

"Get gunning, boy!"

Just after Danny tore off invisibly to find somewhere to trap Skulker, one of the shots hit an apartment building and an alarm started blaring.

Danny returned to visibility to check it out. Why would an alarm go off from some brick siding getting shot with a low power ectoblast? Was somebody hurt somehow? There weren't any windows or anything there. Could it have ricocheted and hit someone?

Then a van screeched to a stop in the parking lot, and it all made sense.

Just like always, when the GIW filed out of their clown car, they aimed at Danny first. He shielded against most of them, but when one shot went a little wide, it hit the same building and exploded on impact, weakening a couple of the bricks. These blasts were much stronger than the shots he and Skulker had been playing with.

First things first, he darted back over to Skulker to capture him. The ghost didn't complain. Better to get captured for now than to have to put up with a government chase all the way back to the portal.

Danny dared to look back at the hunters below him. "There! Fight's done. That means you don't have to shoot anymore, right?"

They continued shooting. Wow, just like his parents!

Danny tried to go for an escape through the ground, where they couldn't see him or reach him, but they managed to aim for him anyway. When he came back up, the ground was full of new potholes. Even one of the manhole covers was ruined. Did they even think at all before firing?

So he took to the skies instead, hoping that there would at least be less collateral that way. Sure, he got shot in the foot (ow) and in the shoulder (ow) and almost got locked into one of those stupid ectophobic nets, but he made it home nonetheless.

The alarm was still audible, and Hemlock Ave. probably had a few thousand dollars in repairs. He couldn't wait to hear at school tomorrow how this was his fault for playing tag.

===

Spooky, Scary, and Scientific: What do Ghosts Mean for Me?

4 Oct. at 11:00 AM

This time last month, you were thinking about what to cook for dinner and when to go return that DVD. But now ectology has entered the mainstream, and the same thing is on your mind as everyone else's: death!

Well, not the sad, existential kind of death thoughts. More like… "Is anybody I used to know a ghost now?" "Would I still recognize them?" "Was everybody wrong about Heaven?" "Will I become a ghost when I die?" It just feels like we all know so little about ghosts.

But I've gathered as much research as I could find from the top ectologists, and I'm going to help you make sense of it too. If you want philosophy, this isn't the blog for you. But hopefully, going in with the right scientific knowledge will make the emotional parts easier!

Let's start with a pretty fundamental one:

Are these ghosts really the spirits of the dead?

Interestingly, as much as a lot of them look like they could have been human once, we don't have any proof that humanoid "ghosts" come from the souls or identities of real humans. In fact, it's looking more like ghosts, which form out of invisible concentrations of ectoplasm in the air and ground, just take after humans because they're the best source of emotional energy.

That's right, emotional energy is a real thing! Since our brains work via patterns of electric pulses, those pulses can imprint the same patterns into ectoplasm and cause it to act in ways it normally can't. See Fenton 2003 for more info on that.

Ghosts are just functional forms of ectoplasm, and have no ability to relate to humanity or have emotions of their own, so it seems they take forms like ours to gain more access to human emotional energy. I wouldn't say they do this on purpose, but then, it's tough to say ghosts do anything "on purpose", since they just automatically work toward their goal. It's just how they function!

Some are capable of doing this in really complex ways, actually. It's very interesting! So let's talk about…

How many kinds of ghosts are there?

[read the rest of the post on kristenscorner.blog]

#invisobang 2023 #danny phantom #my writing #the forest the trees the fire #ftf catalyst #ghost king danny #that tags gotta go on ONE of these chapters. and i forgot to put it on the first one. so. :thumbsup:

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