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#he loves the disaster human anyway

aespades · 1 year

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And a close up of Marinette.

Alternative sayings for Dingo:

"Time to take out find the competition. "

"I'm gonna go steal her box"

"Good thing you have me to wingman"

@verfound

#drawing #my art #my comic #art #luka couffaine #miraculous ladybug #lukanette #marinette dupen chang #verfounds oc: dingo king #dingo king #comics #my attempt at funny #Marinette was just minding her own business #she saved the box at least #meet cute?#meet ugly #but luka doesn't care #he loves the disaster human anyway #aespades art

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violynt-skies · 2 years

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Okay I have a lot to say in response to this repost from @cyanisatakenusernamefuckit regarding that lil post I made about sick kusuo, hence the entirely independent post, but just roll with it for a second k cause there’s a lot and I love looking into this stuff.

okay so this reply involved a little bit of research on my end (there is a little room for error in what i’m saying bc it wasn’t super in depth so if i’m wrong abt anything lmk)

so after googling i’ve found that most bacteria will die around 60-80 deg C; there are some bacteria out there that can thrive in 100 C heat but whether those can negatively impact humans im not sure

We don’t really know how hot Kusuo can make his fire. We’ve seen him go up to around 93 C in the first episode when he made temp of the thermometer go up to make takahashi seem sick. He can go higher than that as seen when making fire (edit: so about 200C) but what I want to know is exactly how high can Kusuo go and be able to tolerate it.

I think an important thing to remember is that Kusuo is still human and he still has limits and he’s not immune to everything he just has a much higher tolerance than regular people. Take from his fight btwn him and kusuke in Season 3, while the heat energy ray wasn’t enough to really injure him, it did effect him, and he admitted that his arm would’ve turned red had the ray hit him dead on, which isn’t a big effect but it shows he’s not immune, plus he was bleeding some near the end of the fight. So there’s a limit to how much heat Kusuo can take.

edit: it was shown that Kusuo would’ve been burnt by the lava when trying to prevent the volcano which can get up to 1200 C so that’s most likely his limit

That being said, there’s a chance with his genius brain Kusuke could be able to mutate some form of bacteria that could tolerate high heats enough so that Kusuo couldn’t kill it without simultaneously effecting himself, and even if he couldn’t, like you said a biological weapon created by Kusuke probably wouldn’t need to.

But let’s take a different approach. Instead of bacteria and viruses let’s look at allergies. We’ve seen that Kusuo has allergies and it also impacts his powers in that he’s not able to fully control them when he’s partially sick.

Knowing this, what if Kusuke was able to look at his research (bc he def did a lot of testing on kusuo) and found other substances that kusuo was allergic too. There’s a chance that Kusuke could send Kusuo into anaphylactic shock if he was able to inject enough of the allergen into him or smth similar.

Or let’s look at poisons, as far as i’m aware, i don’t think?? Kusuo is completely immune to poisons, just that he could see if they were put in food. Kusuke’s been able to get the jump on Kusuo a few times so i don’t think it’s out of the question for him to be able to pull something, especially if he had a high dosage of said poison. It wouldn’t even have to be an injection it could simply be poisonous gas, because as we’ve been told, even Kusuo can’t filter out what’s in the air.

There might also just be some substances out there that negatively effect his psychic powers, like how germanium impacts his telepathy. There could be some material that impacts his immunity to substances or just inhabits him. Like a psychic kryptonite.

I wouldn’t be surprised if through a large amount of testing Kusuke would be able to find something that could effect Kusuo. And if Kusuo got sick enough, the amount of control he has with his powers is up in the air so he might not have enough control to help himself.

or if kusuke just found a way to block kusuo’s pyrokinesis with some material, then it’d be much easier to make kusuo sick because again he’s not immune to bacteria and virus’s he just kills them with heat before it can effect him.

Regarding the question about pain, I don’t think it’s that Kusuo is always in pain (tho i wouldn’t be shocked if he has chronic migraines) but again just a lot higher tolerance to pain than regular humans.

and the thing about premonition is that Kusuo doesn’t have control over it and it happens at random. There’s no telling if kusuo would get a warning about a Kusuke scheme or not, and tbh in the past he hasn’t. Half the time kusuo doesn’t really know what Kusuke is up to, and a lot of his plans take him by surprise. Take toritsuka’s demon possession, or Kusuke’s weird ass birthday card, or him taking himself hostage in the cat fight episode. Kusuo was surprised by all of it. So i wouldn’t depend on precognition to warn Kusuo about an impending illness. Theoretically Kusuo might be able to teleport away before things got too severe, but Kusuke could probably plan out something that would make Kusuo not want to leave, or maybe his powers would be so inhabited that he couldn’t.

Fortunately, I don’t think Kusuke would ever try to actually kill kusuo. So i don’t think we have to worry about that, which is great because Kusuke is definitely a force to be reckoned with

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apollo-cackling · 10 months

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🔥 on malazan, if you don't mind!

[I'm ~1/3 done reading HoC for context]

oh hmm what's an actual unpopular malazan opinion? pretty sure "I would defend Felisin with my goddamn life" is at least a contested opinion on the subreddit, but most folks agree on that here uhhh. here's a few scattershot opinions, hope at least one of them are unpopular:

I do rather like the opening to House of Chains? I saw several people say they didn't like it/that Karsa wasn't interesting enough to carry it, and I don't know if that's the general opinion or an outlier that I stumbled upon but yk. disagree it was fun watching him fuck around and find out + the Silanda reveal (and the other worldbuilding stuff) was really goddamn cool. I wouldn't say it's in my list of favourite malazan parts but it's nowhere near the bottom

Siege of Capustan was a really compelling sequence, but between it and Toc's PoV, somewhere along the line the Pannions(' brutality) broke my suspension of disbelief a little? I've never really liked gorey evil empires though lol tbf

the malazan marine POVs are generally pretty solidly mid-tier for me? they're still good, just outclassed by the other POVs (so say Felisin in DG and Itkovian/the Envy entourage in MoI)

I get that this is more a "we didn't really have the opportunity to see it" thing than anything else bc clearly it does happen (Felisin on the transport ship to the otataral mines) but I wish it wasn't mostly non-Malazans perpetrating (onscreen) sexual violence not sure on the implications on that one. ...although I have seen something to the implication that these books are in part in-universe propaganda? nvm going to reserve judgment on this one

#thanks for the ask!#my rambles #this got pretty rambly + messy idk how much sense it makes lol #+ memory's a bit fuzzy rn sorry for anything that causes #always a lil nervous talking about malazan stuff lol bc ik for a fact I'm missing so many pieces #actually one thing I find really interesting about Karsa right is how much of a self-imposed problem he is?#like iirc there were >0 parts where at that point he just wanted to get back to genabackis to...#reveal the lies the Teblor have been living under?? forgot but anyway the malazans keep chasing him which is how he ended up with leoman #which like #ties into another thing I really love about the setting right there's so many supremely powerful people it's like natural disasters #I don't believe in punitive justice but like. karsa's killed and hurt this many people and the best course of action is to let him go #not bc he's repented or changed or anything just bc we don't think he has a reason to do it again is yk. bleak #did I write the 'I love the way the malazan setting goes yes gods are human. and that's *horrifying*' post #cool stuff!#note that I took the race science stone tablet to be an in universe fuckup bc *gestures at the state of the Teblor*#if it's not actually a fuckup my liking of this section's going to go down a few notches though #also tbf to the malazan marines they're pretty top notch execution of what they're going for #the thing they're going for just isn't my thing though lol #malazan #ask #ask game

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earlyspringtranscendence · 1 year

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well, i found something good about the slip arc. it’s the idea that homesickness in the future will be a physical illness that manifests in those especially who will never have the chance to return to earth. cause im gonna be real i wasnt paying attn because i didnt want to but the way i understand it people on new kinshasa weren’t affected by this, people in the upper echelons of sarasvahti (ie people who had money to spend and lives to lead by doing so) weren’t affected by it: only Brahma pests and those too poor for earth to ever be a dream in their hearts were ailing with a homesickness so potent and concrete that it led to physical symptoms.

and i fucking love that. i love that so much, i think theres this divide btwn ppl who would love to go to space and who love the idea of aliens and whatever and then you have those who get sick thinking about the idea that for years the planet has existed with a certain number of souls less than it’s supposed to have because theres always been people on the space station and i FIRMLY belong to that second category so like... this is SO good to me, it’s so fucking real

#penumb #again .... im gonna mention the sacred text this is getting embarrassing but idc its why i love that jet & rita are from earth in ambrosia #and i love the inclusion of second cit in there just on the basis of the fact that it melds so well and i love it #but also because i love how earth has grown and evolved and done so in a pretty insular way all things considered??#because its now considered backwards and old school and wht have you and obviously this isnt canon bc it wouldnt mesh with the homesickness #and also its not canon bc it just isnt but in ambrosia earth has sort of evolved beyond capitalism because theyve had to #bc they are living with the direct results of what human technologies have done in those ghost dinosaurs #and because at least how it comes across with the jet storyline it seems that earth has become a glorified parking lot #an in betweeny for dark matters to park their spaceship when looking for the unnatural disaster #i dont actually know if its canon that jet is from earth i feel like we've not heard jack about earth ever except for that illness #but like to me jet will always be from earth because it explains ... so much to me #this idea of natural disasters which im sure exist on other planets (i mean hello venus global warming) but they still all come back to #us and the way he's so self contained and self controlled seems to have something that for me resonates with earth too #idk. anyway idk if that author even knows what theyve done to my worldview with that fic its unreal

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shuttershocky · 6 months

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It is just as critically important for the Netflix DMC anime to properly portray Vergil (he's going to be there, of course he is) as it is to portray Dante. Their whole shtick is that one is cool by acting uncool and the other is uncool by repeatedly causing mass disasters in an effort to be seen as cool

Dante doesn't smoke. He exclusively eats pizza and ice cream. He gets stabbed twice a week. He unironically says "Woohoo! Yeeha! Watcha!" All the women in his life keep attacking him and then take all of his money, with the exception of Patty, who got rich and decorated Devil May Cry in balloons and ribbons and then stole Dante's ice cream anyway. His nephew kicked him into a statue and impaled him with his own sword when they first met.

Vergil is a grown-ass man running around with a katana cutting down everything but his mommy issues. He loses every fight. He uses hair gel despite not even living in human society. He attacked his dad's enemy to prove he was just as good and they kicked his ass. He made up his own overpowered self-insert devilsona because he kept losing to Dante and then it kicked his ass. His humansona looks like if Kylo Ren googled what emo was. He killed millions of people for a fruit that makes you stronger and then Dante kicked his ass. And then his son kicked his ass. He has never paid child support. He answered Dante's statement of "You cut off your own son's arm for this?" with "My son means nothing to me" and then gets surprised when told that Nero is his son, implying he's cut so many arms off that his son being Nero never even entered his mind. His own doppleganger summon occasionally dances outside of his control, making him die of cringe.

Meanwhile, Nero, left unsupported by both his father and his uncle for most of his life, got out of a cult, married his love, runs a soup kitchen, has a stable job, can actually hire a mechanic to help out, and owns a car, but somehow he's the loser in the family.

#devil may cry

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cupcakeinat0r · 4 months

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<3 Valentine’s Breakfast w/ DadBod!Miguel <3

[NSFW]

With the sun rays flowing in through the curtains, your eyes flutter open, your blurred vision focusing in on the gorgeous man lying on top of you. This is usually how it is. You start the night laying on his hairy and soft chest, but after tossing and turning through the night, you two never failed to end up in this position. It sort of just happens. You believe it’s Miguel’s need to protect you in every sense of the word, so he just absentmindedly engulfs you in his sleep.

Miguel was a big man. In every way. It was sort of hard to breathe when he was on you like this.

But that was more than ok. In fact, you thrived on the feeling of all his body weight on yours, his face snuggled deep into the crook of your neck and his Herculean arms wrapped around you, not too tight, but just enough so that you weren’t going anywhere. And yes, his snoring was loud, but you learned to love it, it becoming the music to your ears on mornings like this.

It only takes you a few seconds for it to click.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

You smile to yourself, excited about all things you have planned for Miguel. But first… to figure out how the hell you were gonna get Gigantor off of you.

Unable to move, your head isolated, you look around for ideas. With your free hand, you reach for the blanket, slowly pulling it off of him in hopes he’ll move off of you to wrap himself in it again. Your idea succeeds, and he frees you just enough for you to sneak off the bed.

In the most cautious way humanely possible, you sneak out of the room (not before you softly kiss his forehead) and into the kitchen. You weren’t too worried, though. Miguel didn’t get to sleep in a lot like this due to his work, but when he did, not even a geographical disaster could wake him. You were safe.

You start listing in your head all the things you remembered you wanted to make him.

Your hands were ace in the kitchen. Everything you made, Miguel loved. One of his favorite parts of the day was coming home after a long day of work and into the arms of his cute sweet little housewife, a plate of delicious warm food already ready for him on the table. It’s kinda funny; it’s you he blames for his weight gain, but you always reply with how much you absolutely love him that way, accompanied by a kiss and a playful smack to his juicy butt (which has also gotten larger, props to you).

You slave away in the kitchen, making sure everything was perfect, even down to exacting the edges of your heart-shaped pancakes, which matched the heart-shaped strawberry slices.

You go to check on the sleeping giant. He’s still knocked out thankfully, except he’s on his back now, hugging a pillow (thinking it’s you no doubt). Aw.

You notice that the blanket wasn’t on him anymore, which allowed you a beautiful view.

His dark wavy hair sprinkled with hints of gray tussled from his sleep. His 5 o'clock shadow framing his perfect, dark, plump lips. His thick neck, chest and arms, peppered with dark hair as well, resting beautifully. His soft midsection, rising and falling with each dad snore. Near his happy trail was a prominent tent, the print of his huge cock tightening his briefs. You bit your bottom lip at his morning wood. God, this man was too perfect for his own good. You could feel yourself salivate as you remind yourself of all the other things you had to get to like decorations or lighting the candles or the rose petals…

It doesn’t take much for you to give into your urges. He won’t miss the candles or any decorations anyways…

He’ll appreciate what you’re about to do way more.

You silently climb onto the foot of the bed, your face dangerously close to the bulge. You give it a small caress, your hands gently molding around the shaft on top of the fabric of his boxers. You look up when you evoke a barely audible groan from Miguel, who’s still asleep.

You apply just a little more pressure in your next caress, this time making his dick twitch and his hips faintly buck up into your hand, his instinctive neediness signaling you to proceed with your lustful endeavor.

You then lift the band of his boxers, his completely hardened cock immediately springing up. You have to literally suck in your lips to muffle a moan.

Your eyes drink in his perfectly shaped bush at the end of his delicious happy trail, the pumped veins going up his shaft, the singular drop of pre-cum already running down, and finally his fat tip. He was perfect.

You use the juice already there as lubricant, slowly stroking his dick, the other hand on his thick, hairy thigh for support.

You start to feel Miguel‘s thighs contract and hips slightly bucking up some more, little grunts escaping his lips. His arms tense up as well, his muscles clenching around the poor pillow.

His small, slow thrusts drove you crazy, not able to wait any longer to put your mouth to use. You test the waters by giving his tip soft licks, swirling your tongue on it in lazy, annoyingly slow circles.

This grants you a few quiet hums from him, his belly and round pecs rising and falling faster, his body telling you to keep going for him.

Faint ‘Ffuuuckkk’s and ‘Mmm’s were sighed in his sleep, brows furrowed, lips in a pout; signs that you were doing amazing.

You then take him in completely, hollowing out your mouth for him as much as you possibly can, because as mentioned before, this man is big.

You bob your head slowly a few times. It’s when you pull him out with a pop! and start treating it like your own popsicle does his eyes finally slowly open, his lips curling when he looks down at his now very cock drunk girlfriend with a satisfied smirk. His chuckle is low and silk-like, his morning voice making your cunt clench around nothing.

“Well,” his breathing remains labored, his jaw hanging open, “Good morning to you too, Mamita… Mmfuck.”

He says as you maintain eye contact, your lips wrapped around his long and thick member, tongue tracing along a vein. You pull away with a wet smack before saying, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy”, in the most sing song tone of voice.

Miguel tuts at your adorable yet seductive response, “ay, beba, so thoughtful n’ good to me…do that again...” he pleads.

“Like this, Daddy?” You ask, lapping your tongue over his tip just the way he likes it.

“Oh-oh fuck… si, just like that, mamita, así, goood girllll.” his head falls back against the headboard for a moment to sigh before looking back down at you again, seeing his balls in your mouth as your thumb works on his sensitive tip almost making him instantly burst.

You know he’s getting close when he starts panting, propping himself on his elbows and reaching a hand out to your scalp (it practically covers your entire head), gently applying pressure now that he’s in your mouth again. “Aw shit…. I’m close, mama, almost there… fuck, takin’ my fat cock so well, princesa…” He mutters apologies and thank you’s as he relentlessly rams into your mouth, his bush managing to meet the tip of your nose almost every time. He growls as he starts greedily thrusting his hips, face fucking his release into you.

You take your sweet time pulling him out of lips, making sure to get every single drop, your eyes on his the entire time. Once he’s out of your mouth, he sees you swallow, “Open,” and you do as he asks, “diablo, mami, eres tan sucia.” You begin to sit up, wiping your mouth, “Only for you, baby… C'mon, there’s some things in the kitchen for yo-“

“Oye, whoa whoa whoa,” He grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the bed and pulls you toward himself, “I didn’t say we were finished, did I?”

You fall into the bed again, Miguel guiding your hips onto his lap as he sloppily makes out with you, his tongue practically down your throat. “I’m not done with you yet, nena,” he mumbles against your lips.

He lays back down on the bed, “C’mere. Sientate.” He brings his hands up to his face motioning for you to sit on your throne.

You wince, now realizing you forgot that you had meant to shave last night.

“Babe, noooo wait... I haven’t shaved…”

Miguel furrows his brows, a confused scowl on his face.

“Mama. Look me in the face and tell me if I look like I care.” You begin to smile seeing how Miguel was starting to look genuinely mad at you for saying such a ridiculous thing.

“Now, I said sientate. I’m hungry.” He says sternly.

“You sureee? You really don't have to-”

“I don’t like repeating myself.” He commands. This man wasn’t playing any games. He was starving.

Your smile widens at his insistence. Your boyfriend was a real man.

Placing your hands on his hairy, thick body for support, you scoot your way up to his face, Miguel’s grin getting wider as your wet cunt comes into full view.

“So perfect for me, fuck,” His voice is sweet and tender now, planting a few equally tender kisses on your inner thighs, making sure to show them some love before you squeeze his head between them like a melon. “Te amo mucho, you know that, mama? Wanna make you feel good, beba.”

“Mhm,” You nod, biting your lip as the breath of his voice tickles your womanhood.

If Miguel could, he would just live in between your thighs just like this for all of eternity. His absolute favorite place in the whole world. “N' when I tell you to sit on my face, yo nunca quiero ir ese porqueria, understood?”

His stern tone made both your heart and pussy flutter. “Yessir.”

Your hands use the edge of the headboard as support, tentatively hovering your hips over his face as he showers your inner thighs with loving pecks and nibbles, the smack of his lips making your pussy clench again.

One of his big hands steadies your hips with a tight grip, the other moving your panties aside to reveal your unshaven lips.

“Prettiest pussy ever…. y todo es mio. Fuck, you’re so wet, mamita, did I do that?” He speaks mockingly.

You sigh when his lips kiss your clit, his tongue following shortly after by flicking it a couple times. You hear him grunt beneath you after having to lift his head off the bed to reach your hole.

"Baby, sit down. All of your body weight." He's short with his words. It sounds more like an order than a request.

"But Miguel-"

He breathes out, "You're really testing my patience, mama." And with that, his massive hands wrap firmly around your waist and pull you down, a yelp falling from your mouth as he feasts on your sensitive pussy.

Miguel is the definition of a munch. His head movement adds to the stimulation, moving it up and down, side to side; any effort to submerge his face deeper into your folds. His nose, the perfect size and shape that brushes against your clit while he simultaneously slurps and tongue fucks your cunt. The vibrations of his ‘Mmmph’s, the scruff of his face rubbing against your inner thighs, and softly pressing your clit between his tongue and front teeth were the cherry on top.

Your sounds are pornographic as he eats you out. When you're unable to sit up straight anymore due to the immense pleasure, you lean back, hands landing behind you on his soft pecs, pushing into them in an effort to get some kind of break, but Miguel wasn't having it. Plus, he was way stronger than you. There was no escaping him. A small part of you wondered how he was going so long without coming up for air, but you quickly answer your own question when you remember that your man loves to eat, and when he does, he’s like a starved man. Each time you pushed, his grasp only got stronger, but as much as you pushed, you truthfully didn't want him to stop. Ever.

"B-baby, baby… I- I- c-can't," you cry, unable to speak without stopping mid-sentence to let out a whine, "I'm so close, Daddy, don't stop, please, don't stop, don't stop!" You became a broken record, all sense leaving your body. The only thing on your mind was Miguel's mouth ravishing your weeping cunt. You sat forward again, now tugging on his hair, making him hum further and fueling his hunger. "Mmmph fuck! I won't mama, I won't, don't worry... I'll give you whatever you want," You began to literally ride his face, desperately chasing your climax with his hands slapping against your ass. Miguel was in heaven with this view, bucking his own hips into the air from how perfect you looked like this.

“Mmm… such a dirty fuckin’ girl you are,” smack, “wakin' me up like this… ay, que ricoooo, sabe tan dulce,” smack, “puta madre, Puedo vivir de este coño y nada más…” both his voice, an octave lower, and the wet, sucking sounds of his mouth helped uncoil the knot in your stomach, bursting on his handsome face.

Your hips stutter and your jaw falls open when you cum, Miguel drinking in your juices as if he’s been stranded on the Sahara for weeks. You could’ve split his skull into two, that’s how hard you pressed your thighs together, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Miguel finally lets you go, allowing you to sit on his chest now, both of you catching your breaths. He smirks back up at you, and you roll your eyes, blushing. "awww, mi princesita gets all shy when I make her cum, eh?"

"Leave me aloooneeee." With Miguel’s big hands as support and guidance, he rolls over, so he’s still in between your legs, but you’re now the bottom, and him the top. With your legs now around his waist, He chuckles at you and goes to kiss your flushed cheeks.

Then he goes in for a sweet, romantic kiss on the lips. You feel safe and taken care of while feeling his body weight on you again, his soft tummy against yours and his big muscly arms wrapped securely around you. You can feel his cock twitch against your overstimulated cunt, completely soaked from his second climax from simply eating you out, no doubt. He moves any hair on your face aside, caressing your cheek when he does.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, princesita. Have I told you how much I love you?” He coos, pure adoration in his eyes.

You manage a soft, tired smile, “Every day. I love you, too.” you chuckle, “Oh! I made you breakfast! You must be hungry, baby…” you say, as you start getting up.

He gently stops you, and you lay back down.

“I am… but not for food.”

Safe to say the feast you prepared was cold by the time y’all got to the kitchen<3

Hope u liked it <3 It's a bit longer but I've been thinking alottttt about this tee hee!!!

This is a culmination of my thots and the thots of some of my hot moots, so Tysm @mybvalentine @gltzpzy for the ideas <3

Happy Valentine’s season, my loves!!! Wishing everyone not only a day but a whole new year of love. Not just romantic love, but also the love of your friends, family, and above all, the love for yourself <3

Speak to yourself kindly, treat your heart nicely, and consume all the chocolate!!!! You deserve ittt!!!

P.s. n if u don’t have a Valentine’s, I’ll happily be urs 🤭 MWAH!

- Cupcake xoxo

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

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kmiuu1 · 23 days

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Just thinkin' bout Gojo Satoru.

Gojo x Reader, basically! :3

( Sorry about the small text thing!! I don't really use the small txt but it suits this style better, lol...! )

Satoru, the man who would gleefully get down on his knees and hands to worship you — his beloved, precious, endearing, gorgeous, and talented woman. The thing he finds best about that part is that you're his.

Satoru, who would prefer to be the little spoon as he loves your touch — the way you hold him so lovingly, how could he not be intoxicated by you and your warmth?

Satoru, thought he'd never have the time or chance to ever find the “love of his life” till he met you. Completely altering that thought, twisting and bending it a 180° degrees when you just randomly slipped into his life at one point.

Gojo Satoru.

Is the man that loves you. The man whose fallen heads over heels for you. Not the “strongest”, but Satoru — Your “baby”, your “man”.

If you were to ever say you liked “poetry”, he'd all of a sudden also be into it and conjure up the most corny yet breathtaking poems.

If you felt like homemade desserts, he'd scurry to get an apron and get to work. Hes good at everything he does, anyway... so of course anything he bakes will probably be the best thing you've ever had.

You ever accidentally blurt out a “Ugh, I kinda feel sick...”, and he'd be gone the second you finish that sentence — only to return with a plastic bag filled with prescribed medicine in SECONDS.

Of course, you'd do the same things for him even if it'd mostly end up as failures — but that's exactly why he loves you. Because you treat him as an equal, because you don't see him any less or more than the average human being. Hes just him, in your eyes.

Though, he knew the world of Jujutsu would eventually cause your seperation together. He'll be selfish, for a bit more — as long as you're the reason, as long it's you.

He loves you. You love him.

And that'll never change. Even if the world were to be thrown against the sun, even if the largest meteor ever recorded were to suddenly crash through the earth, even if a million natural disasters were to occur at once.

This may or may not be the first and last time he'll ever be so greedy for another person's love, touch, warmth, and joy. As long it's you until the end of time, his soul and heart belongs to you — and will never stop being greedy.

(*´▽｀)ﾉﾉ ( Did I cook guys?? Satoru gives me cuteness aggression sometimes, tbh. I wanna hug him so bad ugh. )

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strang3lov3 · 1 year

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A Learning Process

Extra Soft!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Your whole life, everyone told you motherhood would come easy. So far, it has not. You struggle to connect with your baby boy, Francis. You struggle to console him, to breastfeed him, everything. Joel has pretty much taken care of your son by himself in the two months since you gave birth. Today is your first day alone with your baby boy, and it ends in disaster. Does Joel also think you’re a failure of a mother? Takes place in Jackson, sometime after TLOU

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: emotional, emotional breakdown, talks of giving birth, breastfeeding, dirty diapers, taking a bath with Joel, pet names, vulnerable reader, postpartum depression and anxiety, undefined loving relationship with Joel

A/N: Just thought of this story, thought you could all use some sweet soft Joel :)

Edit: forgot to add this is loosely based on this request from @guiltgoreglory !!!

If you like this story, please leave me a comment or reblog telling me what you think!!🩷🩷

Masterlist

It’s a quiet December morning, the sunlight is just beginning to dance and sparkle on the snow outside. You’re in an old rocking chair Maria gifted you, holding your baby boy close to your chest. He’s quiet for once, usually he’s fussy when you hold him. You’re morose, wondering if it was the right choice to bring him into this world, with you as his mother.

His name is Francis. You gave birth to him two months ago in October.

It was a chilly April day when you realized you were late, not having a period since January. In a panic, you called Joel into your shared bedroom.

Those two words hit him like a ton of bricks. “I’m late,” you whispered, eyes full of worry and tears. Your words were bitter, tasting like the bile on your tongue.

“You’re what?”

“I think I’m pregnant, Joel,”

Joel sat down on the bed with you, his head spinning. He was quiet, too quiet. But not angry like you feared he would be.

Jackson was a great place to raise a child, but Jackson was still a town on Earth, which for the past twenty-odd years, has been overtaken by a brain-controlling fungus. There was no guarantee that having a baby in Jackson would be 100% risk free.

“But we’ll take care of it. I want you to come to the doctor with me tomorrow,” you started. “And we’ll deal with–”

“No,” Joel interrupted. He looked at you with his big brown eyes, so sad and worrisome. “I can’t let you do that. Not safe.”

Abortion is what he was referring to. It’s not that Joel felt abortion was wrong in any sense, he was the last person on Earth who had any right to discuss right and wrong. Abortion was risky, even in the safety of Jackson. And he couldn’t risk letting you get hurt, or worse. He was right, and you knew it. You didn’t need any convincing. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“I don’t know that I’m ready to be a mom, Joel,” you breathed shakily. “I can’t do this.”

He held your hand in his own, so big and calloused from years of backbreaking work. “I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he whispered. “You didn’t get into this all by yourself.”

It was true. Joel was the one who did this to you, anyway. He was your person, or whatever you could call him. Not really your lover, not officially at least. He was just your guy, your companion in everything. And you slept together. It just was a one time, two time, okay maybe all the time kind of thing.

Contraception wasn’t easy to come by. If you were lucky enough to come by some condoms, they were most definitely expired and probably useless. You’d be better off with the pull out method, which was never that great of a birth control method.

You and Joel would often forgo pulling out, getting too caught up in the heat of the moment. You loved each others’ bodies passionately. And well, your bodies did what human bodies tend to do. They created a baby.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Since giving birth to Francis in October, Joel had taken on the role of sole caretaker to your baby boy. It’s not what you had planned, exactly. It’s kind of just how it happened.

Joel did his best to teach you how to swaddle Francis, but you could never quite get it right. He’d flail his limbs too much and you couldn’t wrap him quick enough. Joel also tried to help you learn to breastfeed, but Francis would never latch to your nipple.

You and Francis didn’t quite connect, the way most new moms do with their babies. You’d seen women around Jackson with their babies, smiling and singing to them. Their babies looked so happy, so at peace with their mamas.

And it made you feel so isolated. You could never console him, never. It seemed like he only ever cried in your arms. You and Francis were like oil and water. Sometimes you wondered if you were even his mother. He wanted just about nothing to do with you, and everything to do with Joel.

Even the pregnancy was difficult. There was no glow to your body, like everyone told you there would be. You felt ugly and swollen, and you were in constant pain. Francis’ favorite activity in utero was to do somersaults, over and over and over, which meant you’d puke your brains out, over and over and over. Joel was patient with you, of course. You were growing his child. Didn’t press you for sex or make you do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He’d just hold your hair back and promise you that everything would be alright, it wouldn’t be like this forever.

Joel, on the other hand, had no problem connecting with his baby boy. Francis and Joel were thick as thieves. Francis was silent in his arms, save for the cute little coos he’d let out while sleeping. Francis didn’t cry when Joel changed his diapers like he did with you. Francis let Joel bottle feed him, but refused to let you.

It broke your heart.

And it broke Joel’s too.

To add insult to injury, your relationship with Joel was dwindling. He was there for you, just distant. And you were distant too. You knew it could happen, lots of couples lose sight of one another after a baby. You just didn’t expect it to feel so lonesome and severe.

You didn’t play games with Ellie like you used to. Didn’t cook together. Didn’t touch each other. Didn’t even go to bed at the same time, because Joel was always with Francis. You’d go to sleep before Joel, silently weeping at all of your shortcomings as a mother and partner, or whatever you were.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“You’ll be alright today,” Joel says sweetly as he dresses himself. He speaks to you in a soft and gentle tone, soothing you.

“I’m just nervous,” you admit, still rocking Francis. He looks just like Joel. He’s got big brown eyes, just like his daddy. He’s even got the same dimple as Joel on his right cheek.

“I know you are,” he says, pulling on and tying his boots. He’s nervous too, if he’s being honest with himself. He knows motherhood has not been easy on you. It’s not that he thinks you can’t handle yourself and Francis, he just knows you’re high strung and anxious. “It’s just a couple hours. Tommy put me on the short shift today.” Everyone contributed to patrol in Jackson, and today is Joel’s first day back since the birth of Francis.

You smile weakly, but wear a brave face. He’s right, it’s just a couple hours. It’ll be fine. Joel kisses your cheek, then bends down to kiss Francis’s soft head. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises.

And then he’s gone.

The silence is unnatural, almost eerie. You feel your anxiety in your fingertips as you mindlessly twiddle your fingers against Francis’ back. The sun is brighter now, and it’s time to get the day started.

Here goes nothing.

“Alright, baby. What do you think, eggs and toast for breakfast?” you whisper to Francis.

Francis just looks at you and coos with his amber eyes, his mouth suckling on his pacifier. He looks so much like his daddy.

“Sounds yummy to me too,” you reply to his lack of an answer. As you shift in your seat and maneuver Francis so that his head is tucked by your neck and you’re supporting his bum, he begins to whine a little. “It’s okay, my angel. It’s okay. Mama’s got you. We’re gonna have a good day today, baby.”

You bounce him a little, soothing him. He quiets down. You make your way to the staircase, your sweet boy wrapped in your arms.

The stairs are…daunting. They’re steep, rickety, and old. They’re hard wood, but you were smart and took your socks off to eliminate any possibility of slipping. But still, it’s scary. For a second, you consider sitting and moving down the steps the way a toddler would. But you wave that idea off. Don’t be ridiculous.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. You take a step. And then another. Slowly, ever so slowly. Another now. One more.

You don’t know how it happened. You’re suddenly at the bottom of the stairs, your foot twisted and underneath your body, pinned to the hard stairs. Francis is screaming in your ear, still pressed to your chest.

You move your foot out from under you with a wince and before even checking to see if it’s broken, and hold Francis in front of you.

He’s screaming, wailing. His face is fire engine red as he cries. You quickly examine his little body to check for any scrapes or bruises or cuts. Luckily, there are none.

You do your best to soothe the little boy. “It’s okay, angel. It’s okay. Mama’s got you,” You tell him over and over that it’s okay, but you don’t know that for sure. Did he hit his head? Did you shake him?

Francis is inconsolable. You look around you for anything to grab to keep him calm, luckily his pacifier is in reach. You place it in his mouth, he spits it out. You do it again. Nothing.

You’ve got this. Just breathe.

“Okay, okay. No paci. That’s fine, baby,”

Francis’ cries never let up. He’ll tire himself out eventually. Right?

With Francis still shrieking in your ear, you check your foot. It’s black and blue, already swelling. You try to sit up a bit, put some pressure on it. The pain shoots through your entire body. You don’t know if it’s twisted, sprained, or broken.

What you do know is that you’re stuck. You’re alone, with no way to call for help. No way to move from the steps. Joel’s short shift might as well be infinite now.

A few minutes pass as you just focus on your breathing.

Breathe, is what Joel told you when you found out you were pregnant. You panicked and hyperventilated as he wrapped his strong arms around you, bringing you back down to Earth.

Breathe, is what Joel told you when you spent hours vomiting into the toilet, Frankie never letting up on his somersaults. He held your hair back, rubbed circles into the tense flesh of your shoulders.

When you were in your long and arduous labor, screaming in agony and gripping his hand. Breathe.

Breathe. When you couldn’t soothe your son, and you broke down in tears of frustration. Joel took Francis from you and walked into another room to give you a break from his cries.

You just breathe.

Finally, the ear piercing shrieks flying from Francis’ mouth subside after a while. You don’t know how long exactly, maybe an hour. He’s still crying, but it’s a different tone. He’s hungry.

Might as well give it a shot. You can do this.

You lift up your shirt, adjusting Francis so he’s flush with your body. You guide his mouth to one of your breasts, encouraging him to wrap his lips around your nipple.

You can tell he’s trying, just can’t quite figure out how to latch. You do your best to help him, maneuvering his little body and your breast to ease his struggle.

“Come on, Francis. You’ve got this, buddy,” you coo. He seems to be relaxed a little by your voice. He almost latches, but not quite. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart.”

Maybe he’s uncomfortable on this side. You flip him over and offer your other breast. He can’t quite latch there either.

He’s whining, crying. He’s frustrated, you’re frustrated. He’s hungry, you’re hungry.

“Please, please, please,” you beg him softly. “You can do this, baby. Just eat for mama.”

He still won't latch, but you don’t stop trying. Not for hours.

Francis’ hunger pangs have seemed to peter out, now. He’s asleep in your arms, most likely tired himself out from crying so much. You worry if he’ll lose his voice by the end of today.

Your ass is sore, so is your back and your foot. But you savor the peace and quiet despite the pain in your body.

You wonder how many hours it's been. You try to tell by the way the shadows on the floor change with the sun, but you can’t make out much. Maybe the shadows have moved, maybe not. You can’t tell. Time doesn’t even feel real at this point. Today is agonizingly long.

You rest your head against the banister, closing your eyes. Joel told you once to take advantage of your sleeping son.

“Get some sleep,” Joel mumbled to you. It was maybe a week after giving birth to Francis and you were peering into his crib with heavy eyelids, afraid that if you slept he’d disappear. “He’ll be fine.”

“I know, I just,” you struggled to form a sentence. You wanted to make sure your baby boy was alright. You hated leaving him.

“He’ll be fine,” Joel repeated, his gruff voice firm yet sympathetic. “Go to bed.”

Joel helped you up, your body still so tender after Francis’ delivery. You winced at the ache in your muscles. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispered to you.

You were in a trance, being led to your bed by Joel. It was like your feet weren’t even moving, just floating along and walking on nothing. Joel helped you in bed, adjusted the pillows under your head and pulled a blanket up over your shoulders.

He stepped away from the bed and made his way to the door, turning to give you one last look. Your gaze was still fixed on Francis, unwavering.

Joel sighed and walked back to the bed, this time his side. The bed creaked with each of his movements. He flipped you over gently so you couldn’t stare at Francis any longer, your head on his chest.

“Joel,” you protested. “Our baby.”

“Francis is fine,” he mumbled. “You need to sleep. I’ll watch him. Okay, mama? Mom sleeps when baby sleeps. That’s the rule.”

“I can’t sleep, though. I have to watch him,” Your anxiety wouldn’t leave. Joel felt you fight and struggle against watching Francis. You were so restless.

“Don’t sleep then,” Joel said. “Just rest your eyes. Can you do that for me?”

“Just rest my eyes?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just give them a break,”

You groaned. “Fine,” you grumbled. You’d give them a five minute break and go back to watching Francis. “Just for a little bit. And then I’m gonna watch him.”

“Alright, honey. You do that. Hush, now. Relax,” Joel commanded you ever so sweetly. “Just close your eyes, mama.”

You did as he said, and he brought his hand to your head, dragging his fingertips through your scalp. His fingers trailed to your neck, then your back. You melted into him, turning into a puddle in his arms.

Within minutes, you were asleep, snoring quietly.

Joel knew how to read people, the right words to say to sway them in the direction he wanted them to go. You were no different than anyone else. Now, he wasn't proud of manipulating you into slumber, but he felt it was justified given the circumstances.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You wake up to a putrid smell, your ass basically numb underneath you.

“No, no,” you groan. You adjust Francis, and he begins screaming when you peek into his diaper. The kid does not like being woken up. “Fuck.” you cry.

It’s a bad one, the mess in his diaper. Francis wails in your ear as you assess the situation. You can’t just leave him in his mess.

You sigh, taking off your shirt. You set it down next to you on the staircase.

Francis screams louder when you take off his diaper and set it on the ground. He hates being changed. “I know, bud. This sucks for me too,” you sympathize with him. Then, using your shirt, you wipe him clean as best as you can. It’s not perfect, but it will have to do.

“Please, don’t cry. Don’t cry, baby. It’s okay,”

Francis is relentless. He doesn’t let up. You just hold him, his excrement is on your skin and clothes. You’re gagging as your eyes begin to water.

Your ears are ringing and sore from all the noise. Your back is aching worse than it ever has, worse than when you backpacked across the country with Joel and Ellie. Your arms are full of pins and needles and going numb, you’re afraid you may drop Francis. Your foot is throbbing angrily.

And then the floodgates fly open. Your tears are spilling, hot and fast. You’re gasping for air, hyperventilating. Francis is shaking with each jolt of your lungs and you try to still yourself, but you’re powerless against your body.

You sob loudly, almost as loud as Francis. You can’t remember the last time you cried this way. All of your frustration, pain, loneliness, leaving your body and washing over it again in heaving sobs and cries.

“I’m sorry,” you cry to Francis. “I’m so sorry.” Your voice is thick and wet.

You try your best to breathe, just like Joel told you. But you can’t. You’re gasping uncontrollably and your nose is full of mucous, blocking you from inhaling and exhaling.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, holding Francis and rocking him. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I fucked up. I’m so sorry, Francis.”

You repeat it like a mantra. You apologize to your little boy over and over and over again, for hours.

“I’m so sorry, Francis. You deserve better, sweet baby,”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I was thinking we’d do soup for lunch. Nice and warm, what do you think?” Joel’s voice is faint and muffled through the front door. You perk up slightly at the sound of him and Ellie, but you’re too drained to do anything more.

“Soup sounds good. But I’ll make it. You burnt it last time,” Ellie giggles. Her bubbly voice is music to your tired ears.

“Did not,” Joel says with disdain for Ellies recollection of events. “How do you even burn soup?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re the one who burned it,”

Ellie and Joel giggle as they make their way through the house, then both of their smiles drop at the sight in front of them.

You’re half naked, covered in feces and your face is puffy with tears. Your foot is black and blue and ugly as you sit and cry, with Francis naked and messy in your arms.

Joel says nothing, just grabs Francis from your arms and checks him. Then he moves to you, checking your body and your face.

“Oh my god,” is all he can get out. “Oh my god.”

You just cry.

“What the fuck happened?”

Your eyes meet Joel’s, then Ellie’s. They’re both so concerned.

So you explain how you fell down the stairs, right after Joel left. You don’t know how it happened. You explain how neither you nor Francis have eaten. “We’ve been here for hours,” you get out between sobs.

“Oh my god,”

Joel’s eyes are glassy, his voice is shaky. He passes Francis to Ellie. “Need your help,” he says to Ellie. “Clean him up. Please.”

She nods, holding out her arms to take Francis. “I’ve got him,” she whispers, before taking him into the kitchen.

Joel helps you up, you yelp at the pain. Your foot aches, so do the rest of your bones. “I know. I know,” Joel mumbles. His heart is broken into a million pieces, he’s in disbelief that this even happened to you.

He helps you into his arms, cradling you as he walks you both up the stairs. You hold onto him tightly, the smell of his clothes and his sweat bring you so much comfort and relief. Your person is here, and he’s gonna make it all better.

Joel takes you into the bathroom and removes the rest of your clothes, leaving them on the floor. You sit on the toilet seat as he removes his clothing. You feel like such a failure of a mother.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, now,” he says softly.

“I can’t shower, Joel. My foot,” you cry.

“I know, honey’. I’ve got you,” his voice is so quiet, so gentle. “Just for a minute. Just let me rinse you, that’s all.”

Joel lifts you up slowly, being extra conscious of your foot, then lifts you into the tub. He pulls the leg of your injured foot over his hip and wraps one of his strong arms around your waist as he uses the other to turn on the warm water.

He removes the showerhead and rinses your body, watching all of the dirt and grime leave your skin. Then he places the showerhead back in its spot and switches the water to come out of the bath spout.

He maneuvers you in his arms to sit down against him in the bath. Your back is pressed to his chest as the warm water begins to fill the bathtub. All that can be heard is the sound of rushing water and your quiet sobbing.

“Shh,” he hushes you. “It’s okay, now. I’m here. You’re safe,”

“Joel,” you cry, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know. I know,” he murmurs.

He holds you like that as the water fills, your sobs are beginning to die down. Joel leans forward to shut the water off once the tub is full, then grabs a rag and some soap to clean your body.

Only now does it hit you that this is the first he’s seen you fully since giving birth to his child. You look so different now. You curl up, bringing your knees to your chest.

“Don’t hide from me,” he whispers as he pushes your knees back down. “I only wanna help you, sweetheart. Let me take care of you now.”

He scrubs your body gently, washing away the disaster of a morning you and Francis shared. He can sense your insecurity still. “So beautiful,” he breathes. He’s so delicate with his movements, washing you so tenderly. So full of love and care. “Always been so beautiful, mama.”

You relax into his touch, your head resting on his chest. He’s so warm. So comforting. He feels like home. He tilts your chin up so your eyes can meet his own, so deep and dark. His fingers trace your features, your chin and your lips and your nose. Your eyes well with tears again.

“I’m so sorry, Joel,”

“What for, honey?”

“Today. Francis,”

“Hey, now,” he says. “Wasn’t your fault.”

“It was, though,” You shake your head slightly, your bottom lip is wobbling. “I’m such a terrible mom, Joel. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Joel’s eyes fill with tears, they begin to fall down his cheeks. “You’re not a terrible mom,” he hushes you with a broken voice. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that.”

Of course, he knows why you think that. He’s been a little overbearing with Francis, not giving you the opportunity to learn to parent the way he should have. “You’re new to this, honey. That’s all,”

You mumble something under your breath, Joel doesn’t hear. All he hears are your quiet whimpers and sniffles as you stare deep into his eyes. He’s never looked so raw before.

Some silence passes, and finally he speaks.

“Sarah was an early walker,” he begins.

Your brows furrow. Joel rarely talks about Sarah, even now.

“Once she began wobblin’ on those little legs of hers, I knew she’d be trouble. She’s the reason Tommy and I built a fence,” Joel recounted. “You know why?”

“Why?” you whispered.

“Well, she was an escape artist,” he says. “I’d be out there, doin’ yardwork or grillin’. She’d be in her sandbox, building little castles and whatnot. I thought she was, at least.” Joel pauses for a second, looking away wistfully.

Joel continues, smiling now. “Anyway. I’d look back to check on her, and poof. She’s gone. And I’d look across the street, and she’s makin’ friends with the Adlers. Workin’ her charm with them into givin’ her cookies and ice cream. She did it all the time,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Constantly. She did it constantly,” Joel replies. “Girl was trouble. Nothin’ but trouble. So Tommy and I built that fence to keep her from escapin’. ‘Course, didn’t stop Mr. and Mrs. Adler from sneakin’ her treats before dinner.” Joel chuckled at the memory. You did too.

“She sounds so sweet, Joel,” you say.

“She was,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. He’s quiet again for a moment, remembering. “I was runnin’ her a bath one night. Right after she learned to walk, you know? And I’m focused on the water, makin’ sure it’s not too hot and not too cold. She’d kick up a fuss if the temperature wasn’t to her liking. Like, exactly. Had to be perfect.”

You smile. Joel is such a wonderful storyteller, you could listen to him talk all day long.

“Didn’t even notice her leave the bathroom. Thought she was right behind me. I just heard her tumble down the stairs, screamin’ and cryin’. Tommy grabbed her, drove us to the hospital,”

You nod quietly.

“So they run tests on her, of course. She’s charmin’ the nurse into giving her suckers and toys. She was fine, thank the lord. No bruises, no scratches. Just fine,”

“That sounds so scary, Joel,” “It was. Terrifying. I cried like a baby the whole night thinkin’ I hurt my little girl,” he says. “But you know what the nurse told me?”

“What’s that?”

“She said that babies are rubber. They’re tough. Resilient. Our little boy is resilient too, you know,”

You look away from him, picking at your fingernails. The guilt is eating you again.

“You’re new to this, mama. Go easy on yourself, for christsake. You just had him two damn months ago,”

You barely reply, just kind of mumble. You don’t know how to respond.

“Hey, look at me,” he tilts your chin and to stare into your eyes. He’s deadly serious. “You’re strong. You’re brave. You’re doin’ fine, mama. Shit happens.”

You still can’t speak. His words help, but it was still a terrible day. Maybe one day you won’t hurt over it. He understands, not forcing you to say anything.

He just finishes washing your body, then dries you off and wraps you in a towel. He carries you into bed, promising you that he’ll get the town doctor over later to check on your foot. There’s a sandwich waiting for you on your bedside table. Ellie. Such a sweet girl.

Joel leaves you to clean the mess of your clothes in the bathroom and at the stairs, and you eat your sandwich. You feel so much better getting some food in your system.

After finishing your sandwich, you hear tapping at the door. “Can we come in? It’s me and Francis,” Ellie says.

“Yeah, El. Come in,”

Ellie tiptoes in with Francis, his hair is wild and curly. Just like Joel’s. His eyes are big and lost. Ellie looks fatigued. “He didn’t like the bath very much,” she says. “But I did give him a bottle.”

“I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble,” you reply. “He can be a little cranky. Thanks for feeding him, El. You’re so good with him.”

“Yeah, I can handle him. We’re best friends,” she says. You can see in her face that she’s exhausted, though. “Right, Frankie?”

You smile softly, holding out your arms. Ellie places him in your hold gently, being extra careful to support his head and neck. She can see the worry on your face. You still feel so unsure of holding him, being responsible for him.

“Guess what?”

You look up at her. “What?” You bounce Francis softly.

“I’m gonna teach him how to say fuck. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” she giggles, that signature smirk on her face. Her eyes are so playful and bright. “And I’m gonna teach him the other ones too. Bitch, ass, asshole, shit, dick, cun-”

“Don’t you dare corrupt my son, you little shit,” A deep voice interrupts. It’s Joel, standing at the doorway. “Don’t need two demented kids in this house. You’re more than enough.”

“Hey!” Ellie gasps, feigning offense. Ellie sits down on the bed as Joel walks towards her. “I’ll teach your kid whatever words I want, old man. And I’m not demented,” She punches him in the arm playfully. “You are.”

Joel just rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

You meet his gaze, smiling at him quietly. Francis is asleep in your arms, mumbling and cooing softly. He’s so sweet like this.

Joel takes Francis from your arms, places him in his crib. Joel looks at Ellie. “Out,” he says. “Mama needs to sleep.”

Ellie gets up to leave, not before giving you a hug. You wrap your arms tightly around the girl, she’s such a good big sister to your baby boy. She doesn’t often hug you, so it’s a welcome surprise.

Joel meets you on the bed, pulling you close to his body. You rest your head on his chest as he plays with your hair. “Get some sleep, honey,”

You yawn, melting into his body. “Okay, daddy,”

He feels like home.

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wheeboo · 6 months

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the secret life of jun | wen junhui

SYNOPSIS. in which jun gets set up on a blind date by his best friend. PAIRING. zoolinguist!wen junhui x gn!reader (ft. minghao, gyu the golden retriever, boo the duckling, and lil mentions of some members as their representative animals. not hybrids.) GENRE. fluff, humour, kinda strangers to lovers, magic-realism au WARNINGS. cursing, jun just being a very cute awkward shy boy :(, my first attempt at something remotely magic/fantasy WORD COUNT. 3k

notes: this is for the caratlibrary secret gift exchange event! and therefore, this gift is for @phenomenalgirl9 who also gifted a fic for me hehe. i hope you enjoy <3 this is also my first time writing something remotely fantasy/magic, so... feedback is welcome! ty to my lovely moots who read this over for me ^^

"Jun! Can you tell your dog to get the fuck off me?" Minghao attempts to shove away the ever-persistent golden retriever pawing and licking at his face, but Jun doesn't seem to hear, seemingly engrossed on something else entirely in the kitchen.

Minghao just groans annoyedly, and just as he's about to call out for his best friend's name again, a thought crosses his mind. A sort-of stupid one that he knows won't work, but he'll try it out anyway.

He brings a hand up, watching the dog follow it with curiosity, and he points to the ground while firmly saying, "Down."

Unfortunately, the dog only tilts his head inquisitively, as if dazed and confused by the action, before relentlessly pouncing on the boy again, and all he could do is surrender himself to the attack of excitement. Right, he thinks, these animals don't exactly understand him normally.

Jun finally emerges from the kitchen after what feels like an eternity, a black cat cuddled gently in his arms, lightly running his fingers through its fur carefully. When he picks his head up, he could only chuckle at the sight in front of him. Minghao only rolls his eyes, shooting a playful glare to his best friend who only seems amused.

"Your dog is a menace," Minghao declares, wiping away the slobber from his face.

"Come on! Gyu just likes you."

"I'm not sure I share the sentiment right now," Minghao replies almost coldly, perhaps even half-jokingly, attempting to regain his composure.

Jun just sighs and sends out a whistle from his lips to get the dog's attention. And with a subtle look from just his eyes, as if sending a silent signal, Gyu hops off the couch and trots over to Jun, letting out a few barks in response.

"He says he doesn't like your attitude today," Jun translates, setting the cat in his hands down on the floor. "but he's forgiven you."

"Gee, thanks," Minghao scoffs and crosses his arms together, still trying to maintain a façade of irritation, though it's quite easy to see right through it.

He watches for some time as Jun crouches down to the dog's level, the two of them communicating in a way he knows he can never understand, but is grown to be amazed by every time. It isn't a secret that he knows that his own best friend can communicate with animals, as strange as that might sound (because... it's true), but it's a fact he's fully accepted.

Jun probably has more animal friends than human friends at this point. He's made friends with the birds at the park, the stray cats that roam the streets, a deer that comes to visit occasionally behind his place, an otter that frequents at a nearby pond, hell even one of the tigers at the zoo𑁋the list goes on.

And not to exactly complain, but he also really wants Jun to find a fucking partner.

Not that it's a bad thing Jun isn't seeing anyone, and it totally isn't the entire reason why Minghao is here right now. He has tried to set Jun up on dates, but the older boy almost always manages to find some excuse or simply doesn't show up, claiming he got caught up in a conversation with a stray cat or a butterfly on the way. Or the date ends up in disaster with a chase down the street of the neighbourhood raccoons stealing food.

But then again, that's Jun for you𑁋unpredictable.

"One more date."

Jun raises his head, and the moment he sees that particular smirk to Minghao's face, he groans.

"No."

"Oh, come on, just one more," Minghao insists. "I promise you'll like them. They're an animal lover."

"Just because they're an animal lover doesn't mean𑁋"

"You're either going to be drinking 'till you're absolutely couch-ridden on new year's because you're single and lonely again, or you could be celebrating with someone special. Your call, dude."

Jun finds his face flushing out of embarrassment, scratching absentmindedly behind Gyu's ears as Minghao's words wash over him. Then his features soften, and he lets out a sigh.

"Fine," he relents. "One more."

Shit, he's screwed. The minute Minghao told him the date would be happening in the middle of the park where he often chatted with the local squirrels and ducks, Jun knew this already wouldn't end well.

He also had quite the love-hate relationship with blind dates𑁋or dates in general, to be honest𑁋and the thought of meeting a stranger made his palms sweat even with the cold threatening through his thick coat (he's convinced that Minghao is pulling anyone out of his ass at this point).

The park is covered with a light blanket of snow, the trees standing tall and glowing with strings of fairy lights against the grey winter sky. Jun shivers in place and adjusts the scarf around his neck, partially from the cold and partially from the impending awkwardness he anticipates.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry for being late! The traffic was awful coming here and I got a bit lost..."

The voice is frantic and panicky to Jun's ears akin to his equally panicking heart, who turns around to a figure rushing up to him, covered in layers and letting out misty breaths that appear in the air.

"It's okay," Jun says, voice coming out a bit awkward. He offers a reassuring smile. "I'm, uh... Jun, by the way."

"Y/N," You say, relieved as you finally catch your breath and look up at him with a cute grin. "I'm so sorry for being late. I hope you weren't waiting for too long."

"Oh, not at all. I... just got here as well." It's a bit of a white lie𑁋he was beginning to worry you ditched him, honestly. Jun feels his hands fidget in his pockets nervously, yet he sees the ease that washes over your features at his words, and he relaxes slightly. There's something about the way you carry yourself and the slight blush on your cheeks from the cold that eases some of his tension.

And maybe, just maybe, his heart stutters a little at your smile, like a startled butterfly in his chest. Did the lights at the park grow brighter?

"Would you like to, uh, maybe grab some hot chocolate?" Jun suggests, gesturing towards the small, lit up kiosk nestled in the corner of the park that seemed quite busy with customers. "It can help... warm you up."

Your eyes light up to his words, grinning. "That sounds perfect, actually."

As you both walk towards the kiosk, the air seems to crackle with a nervous energy Jun hadn't expected. Despite the awkwardness gnawing at him, he can't deny the strange sense of hope fluttering in his stomach, somewhat like a small bird unsure of its flight. He's not the best at dates and probably never will be, but for some reason, feeling this sort of apprehension is unlike anything else he's felt. It's not uncomfortable per se, but more... exciting?

The two of you stand in the back of the line, shoulder-to-shoulder, hands tucked deep in your pockets and sharing silences punctuated by the occasional nervous giggle when your eyes meet. The line at the kiosk is surprisingly long, a mix of bundled-up families with laughing children and young couples warming their hands around steaming plastic cups.

When your shoulder brushes against his, Jun freezes for a moment, feeling a warmth spreading through him that has nothing to do with the hot chocolate. He steals a glance at you, finding your gaze already on him, and there's a shy smile that you both share before you look away first.

Then Jun notices it𑁋you're shivering.

It's almost imperceptible at first, a slight tremor running through your shoulders as you shift your weight from foot to foot. He hesitates for a moment, then a nervous breath leaves him. Fuck it.

Without a word, he unravels the wooly scarf from around his neck and drapes it over you, fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary as he adjusts it comfortably. You blink up at Jun with wide eyes.

"Sorry I, uh... noticed you were cold," he mumbles, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

You glance at him, surprise evident in your eyes, and then you chuckle. "Are you sure? I don't want you to freeze."

"I'll be alright," Jun just assures calmly, though the chill creeping up his neck is a bit hard to hide now.

The line moves forward, and soon you're ordering hot chocolate for the both of you. Jun pays for both, insisting with a small nod when you attempt to pull out your wallet.

As Jun and you clutch the steaming cups, the warmth radiating through the thin plastic felt almost comforting. The park bustles around you, but with each sip, the outside world seems to fade away, leaving only the diffident hum of conversation and the fluttering hope that dances between you.

"So, uh, what kind of animals do you like?" Jun asks, trying to break the ice as you both trail down an empty path close to the icy pond nearby. He's not exactly smooth with conversation, but he figures asking about your supposed love for animals is a safe bet. "I've been told you like them."

Your eyes light up as you take a swift, long sip of the hot chocolate, the warmth quickly spreading through you.

"Oh, all kinds!" You answer eagerly. "I volunteer at an animal shelter not that far from here and take care of the injured ones. I have a lot of pets at home too𑁋a hamster, a dog, a few cats, a rabbit... How about you?"

You spoke so quickly that Jun could barely register it all, but he can't help but grin at your enthusiasm. It’s almost infectious.

"Wow, I have, uh... a dog and a cat at home... Gyu and Woozi are their names," Jun replies slowly, almost unsurely.

"That's really cute!" You tell him, catching the way the corners of his lips crinkle up just slightly and how he has to angle his face down just to hide it. "My hamster's name is Hoshi! My dog is Minnie, my rabbit is Hannie, and my cats are Wonu, Nonie..."

Listening to you list your pets' names and some of the ones you've taken care of at the shelter makes Jun feel just a tiny bit lighter with each step he takes with you, and also from the way your eyes sparkle with every word you spoke. He finds himself letting out giggles at your stories of Hoshi's escape attempts and Min's stubborn streak, and for the first time in a long time, he feels truly comfortable, truly seen in a way that didn't feel fake.

Yet it doesn't take long for that feeling to falter just slightly. He doesn't know what Minghao exactly told you about him, or if anything at all𑁋how does he explain to you that he can quite literally talk to animals?

He knew that spilling the beans could go one of two ways: either you'd think he was crazy, or you'd be amazed (and maybe even a little scared). He's never exactly revealed it to any person he goes on a date with because, in the end, after a handful of mishap encounters with animals that don't mean to ruin the date, they end up leaving anyway.

Should he tell you? The words dance on his tongue, ready to tumble out, but that unwanted fear of rejection holds him back once again.

But before he can say anything, a squeaky quack pierces through the air, snapping Jun out of his thoughts. He looks down to see a small duckling waddling towards them, its tiny yellow head bobbing with each step. It stops in front of you, tilting its head inquisitively as it looks you up and down curiously, before heading to Jun's feet and quacking loudly.

It's Boo, one of the park's young resident chatterboxes who loves nothing more than socialising and the occasional spread of gossip. Jun had befriended Boo a while back, often sharing stories and snacks by the pond. But what was Boo doing here, and why does he look so worried? Jun could almost hear a frantic heartbeat echoing through the duckling's chest.

Boo lets out a series of rapid quacks. Jun strains to decipher the splurge of words, picking up snippets about stolen food and a local raccoon, and... how one of his siblings is stuck somewhere.

"Oh my gosh, you're so cute!" You exclaim, kneeling down upon noticing the young duck in front of Jun and extending a tentative hand. "What are you doing out here, little one? You're going to freeze."

Jun could only listen as the distraught duck spills its frustration on you. Yet you didn't understand anything, only continuing to coo about how cute the duckling is, and Jun watches as Boo looks up at him with pleading eyes, urging him to do something. He knew he had to act, but he glances at you, still kneeling with outstretched hand at Boo, and his mind races.

Should he explain his... ability to you and risk making you uncomfortable? Or maybe try to handle it on his own, somehow decipher Boo's instructions and lead you on a cryptic animal rescue mission that might look completely bizarre, delusional, and psychotic?

"Do you think it's lost?" You ask worriedly, glancing back up at Jun. And when his gaze catches yours, warm and hopeful in the glow of the fairy lights surrounding you, a surge of determination pulses through him.

Jun only quietly chuckles at Boo's attempts to tell you his name, his tiny feathered body vibrating with slight annoyance, but your gentle cooing and outstretched hand seem to soothe him a little. The sight stirs something deep within him, a warmth that spreads beyond the simple comfort of the hot chocolate from earlier.

"He's not lost," Jun says, his gaze meeting yours. "He's... a friend. And he's telling us a story. Oh, and his name is Boo, by the way."

Your brow furrows in confusion, a tiny crease appearing between your eyes. “You… understand ducks?”

Jun offers a hesitant smile, a knot of anxiety twisting in his stomach. There's no going back now.

“It’s a bit more than that,” he admits sheepishly, watching your expression shift from curious to intrigued. “I can, um, like... sort of talk to animals, I guess. Or they sort of talk to me, basically, yeah..."

The silence that follows is deafening. Jun braces himself for a wave of disbelief, rejection, maybe even a startled shriek. But instead, your eyes widen with awe, a growing smile forms on your lips, and Jun can't quite bring himself to tear his gaze away from you. He'd taken a leap of faith, and you, instead of running for the hills, were looking at him with... wonder?

"Wow, that's..." You breathe, voice hushed with wonder. "I-I mean I always knew that... sort of existed? Like, in research papers and ancient history, but meeting someone who can actually do it is just..."

Jun blinks, a bit taken aback by your reaction.

"You're not... freaked out or anything?" he asks cautiously. "Like... you actually believe me?"

"Jun." You turn to him, shifting so that your knees are slightly touching in the snow. "Minghao told me like... a lot of things, or tried to at least. I mean, at first I found it ridiculous, then I realised that this is Xu Minghao telling me this, and if he's vouching for you, it must be true. And, well... I really wanted to get to know you too."

Oh. "Oh," Jun mutters, cheeks flushing and face burning. Minghao, of course. He should have known his best friend with a 'credible' reputation wouldn't simply set him up on a blind date without throwing him under the bus a little bit. "I mean, it-it's nothing too fascinating. No mind-reading or telepathy exactly, just… understanding their gestures and stuff. It's kind of like learning a new language, you know?"

"Well, can you tell me what Boo is saying then?" You quirk up expectantly, and Jun swears he cannot handle more than five seconds of you peering at him without melting completely. His heart does a little double flip in his chest, landing somewhere around his ankles.

Jun chuckles, a warm sound that feels right at home amidst the snowy air. Then he takes a deep breath, steadying himself under your gaze, before turning his attention back to the little duck at his feet.

"Alright, alright," he teases, ruffling Boo's feathers playfully. "Don't get jealous, little guy. Spill it."

Boo then goes on an insistent frenzy of quacks, and you could only watch in awe as Jun listens carefully, nodding and humming in response. There's a certain magic in the air that you can sense, as if you've stepped right into a fairytale of some sorts. The small duckling then looks up at you with begging eyes, as if seeking your help as well. Jun shoots you a quick glance, and you can see the uncertainty in his eyes.

"He's pretty worked up," he admits, clearing his throat. "He's telling me about a raccoon that stole his flock's food, and... um, one of his siblings is stuck in a log somewhere. I have some food with me, but he wants to find his sibling first. He knows the way."

"Then let's do it," You say, rising to your feet and dusting off the snow on your pants.

Jun hesitates again, staring at you in slight disbelief𑁋you want to come with him? He glances at Boo, who lets out a frustrated quack, urging him to make a decision. Then he looks back at you, your kind eyes holding his own, and suddenly the choice becomes clear.

"Do you trust me?" Jun asks softly, his heart pounding in his chest.

You hold his gaze for a moment, a thoughtful look on your face. Then a smile blooms across your lips, one that reaches your eyes and seems to chase away the worry.

"I trust you," You answer, stretching an open hand towards him.

Jun feels a warmth spread through him, and he grabs your hand in his. Relief and something else courses through him, like excitement and perhaps a bit of fear. You were in, and that was all that mattered.

Boo lets out a triumphant quack, and with him waddling excitedly at your feet, you follow Jun deeper into the park, the fairy lights casting long shadows against the snow-covered ground. It's a strange sight𑁋you walking on one side of Jun and a duckling trotting on the other𑁋but with every step, whatever awkwardness that was lingering seems to melt away.

And maybe, just maybe, something else was blossoming too.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify

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badass-queer-couples-battle · 8 months

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Gay wrongs tournament, round 2.5 of the major bracket

Propaganda:

For Eddie Brock and Venom:

I'm pretty sure its Canon in the comics and like, Canon adjacent in the 2nd movie??? Idk I just watched the first one sooo, anyways, this isn't propaganda i just couldn't remember if you said they needed to be Canon so I put what I rembered about that here, idk I'm proboboly just gonna send the propaganda in the ask box at a later date

They eat people:) venom is an alien symbiote and Eddie is the host and they have melded together into one being. They care for and protect each other and are so intimately intwined they are only ever separated by force. Also they’re both absolute disasters and they periodically bite and eat the heads off their enemies.

They eat people <3

For Will and Hannibal:

Ive previously only heard the term "murder husbands" refer to hannigram so it feels flitting. The whole series culminated with a murder they did together bathing in blood.

The show and ship that coined murder husbands. It’s in the text in s3 from a journalist side character. They do Many murders either together or as a message to each other. Usually this involves turning the dead body into an art piece. The show ends with them killing a guy together in a slo mo scene backed by porno music.

They're both batshit and manipulative.

ALRIGHT so they're not canonically together but it is HEAVILY implied and they have some sort of fucked up psychosexual obsession with each other. in the later parts of the show they start committing murder and cannibalism together and they're soooo unhinged but it's awesome

kill people for each other. maim each other. kill people together. most batshit insane metaphors. send each other to jail. ruin everyone’s lives. someone can probably say this better than me but these gay people are insane

Literally THE murder husbands. They kill for each other. They've tried to kill each other. They're canon in all but name, like the homoeroticism between these two is the driving force of the show.

one time hannibal folded a guy into an origami human heart

They are in love and they kill and eat people. They are called Murder Husbands in canon.

The original murder husbands (literally, that's not just their ship name, they get called that in canon)

The show begins with Will working for the FBI and trying to catch Hannibal, but because Hannibal is so intrigued by the way Will is able to see the world and the motives behind the killings so easily, it becomes a game of Hannibal isolating Will even more from the people around and seducing him to try and kill. By the time Will starts embracing the side of him that Hannibal sees, he starts oulling back and trying to distance himself so that when the time comes for Will to fully embrace himself and Hannibal, no one really suspects what they have planned.

hannibal literally does murder as courtship and it works bc will is also a fucked up little guy

I'm actually quite offended they aren't included by default (joke). They are THE murder husbands!!!!!! (mod note: they should have been, but I wanted to see how many submissions they'd get. They got 19, making them a little more than 6% of total submission count).

do i have to say it. they literally get called murder husbands IN THE SHOW

There are 3201 works for Hannibal on ao3 tagged Murder Husbands. They are the ogs, they are the pioneers we owe it all to them.

THEE murder couple. You know it. I know it. They commit crimes at each other as courting and then commit crimes together and then fall off a cliff to wash up somewhere and live on to serve cunt. Get referred to as 'murder husbands' in canon. What more do you need

Hannigram were literally called Murder Husbands in canon, they are the og, they are THE blueprint. They were gay as hell and comitted so much murder so many crimes. THEY RAN OFF TO EUROPE TOGETHER.

#gay wrongs tournament round 2 #venom #hannibal nbc #hannibal #symbrock #hanningram #eddie brock #venom symbiote #hannibal lecter #will graham

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rayroseu · 11 months

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💚Mallevan/Levanoa Headcanons (2/?)

PART 01 PART 02⬇️

you guys dont know how often i brainrot about these couple who never even talked in game yet KDJAKSK

Am glad to see that Levan's receiving the "Yuusona treatment" because of the various ways that twst artists draws him lolol

• • • Headcanon 2.

Malenoa is the strongest of the trio. Because she is a royalty, she is much more knowledgeable about magic— particularly if its related to dragons. Naturally, she became kind of like a magical tutor to both Levan and Lilia when they were children.

i really like the thought of eastern dragons in TWST🥰 its a nice foreshadow that Levan is a Long bcs thats Malleus' Halloween costume✨

(if its really like that,,,, im going to cry bcs that means Malleus dressed up like his papa who he never knew 💔😭)

(also I'm praying with all my heart he's not some plot twist jerk in game like King Stefan from Maleficent 1 😭)

I think dragons are rare on TWST not only because they're really particular on their mates but also because raising one is extremely high maintainance.

Its 1: life threatening to the caretaker, 2: needs constant attention and love, 3: once it grows up, you even need to withstand its tantrums and emotions (who are btw magically powered) 😭💥

That's why I think ??? there's limited knowledge about mediating their power (so they just get stuck in this cycle of being the strongest but that very strength can bring disaster bcs its uncontrollable)

Thus, I thought of Malenoa being Levan's friend who teaches him about controlling his draconic powers because Levan doesn't really want to accidentally harm others because of his uncontrollable strength--✨✨✨

I like to think its because of Levan's pacifist nature that Land of Briar chose to have war treatiest first instead of just crushing the Silver Owls through Malenoa's military strength. He's aware that killing off humans would just make them more hostile to faes in general, and I don't think both Malenoa and Levan wants Malleus to grow up in war once he hatches-

—

Levan's fire is purple because I remember getting surprised when Overblot Malleus used that on his attack despite Land of Briar/Malenoa (?) being "mainly green colored" all this time...

So, I think that's one magic he got from his father??? because most of his features already derives from Malenoa (horns, tail, magic (i think his green fire is from Malenoa), straight hair, etc)

The purple fire might've originate from Malleus' mastery of void magic (I hc their dorm spells' element are their forte magic and Dorm Malleus is double void card) but we've never seen void magic used like a fire... its usually like an energy beam right? I think it was so exciting when he attacked like that💜👆‼️✨ (I literally squealed lol its so pretty?? but I know I'll die from that lol)

I love the thought that Lilia is the "mom friend"/"sensible friend" of this trio... 😂 because he says hes the one constantly working for these couple... mostly to deal with their antics lol

plus Lilia is literally the sole person working for Levan and Malenoa to meet together right now---

since Levan's missing and Malenoa can’t really leave the castle since she’s guarding unhatched Malleus--- and its just a bad move to send the best queen on the frontlines when they can just send Lilia yk 😆

i hope we get more dragon egg lore and also specifically egg malleus reveal🙌🙌 like how do THEY take care of a dragon egg anyway.... do they put it on cradles as well like human babies??? or their parents will hold them since they require vast amount of love-

i'd used to think malleus backstory would be his child self being lonely (which in the future might??? but for now?? his backstory is literally just him being an egg and all of us are crying over an egg JDHJWJD 😭😭😭

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deafmangoes · 3 months

Text

I'm not a shipper by nature, just putting that out there. But, uh, Dungeon Meshi does things to me.

Anyway, I've shared my Farcille thoughts, so now to blabber about a different popular ship: Labru. The Hot Mess. The Disaster Couple.

Firstly let's talk about the -bru part of the ship. Kabru is a neurotic little twink with PTSD and anxiety. I don't think that's in any sort of doubt. He exudes an entirely false confidence to hide his crippling self-hatred and survivor's guilt. For some reason, this makes him incredibly attractive to nearly everyone he encounters. Rin has the traditional tsundere crush, his whole party firmly believes in him (more than reflects his actual abilities), the ninjas blush when he smiles at them, even dead-hearted Mithrun warms up to him over time. The omakes take this even further: his landlord cleans his room for him, Dia's fiancé breaks down in tears when talking to him, and Holm's sister clearly wants to get it.

Kabru's not blind to any of this. He weaponises it, really. He's manipulative to an artform! Then he meets Laios. The Monsterfucker.

Laios' sexuality is not immediately clear from the manga. He definitely has a little flame for Marcille - between his awkwardness over touching her, his succubus taking her form, his illusion memory of her focusing on her power and strength - it's not love, I don't think it's even a crush, it's just that "boy sits across the table and stares intently at you" sort of feeling.

He doesn't show any direct interest in men but dearly desires their companionship. He practically kidnaps Shuro and - even though he struggles with Kabru's name at first - takes a liking to him instantly.

So do they make a good ship? Hell no, they're fucking awful together, but it works. Kabru just natually slithers in as advisor, and Laios is more than happy to have someone take all that off his plate. If there's anything there, I think it's one-sided from Kabru, and whatever feelings he has for Laios are based in his total confusion over how Laios just... survives. He finds him fascinating. Intriguing. Possibly sexually. If everyone else is an open book, Laios is the eldritch tome he cannot decipher and will burn him if he touches it. You can see why this ship seems to naturally arise from the canon.

But from Laios' point of view, I think he's... sort of homoerotic asexual? His feelings towards Marcille are more like a fascination with the exotic and monstrous (because she's Not A Tall-Man, and he doesn't want to be one), but his interactions with male companions are much more open and affectionate, even if he's a bit oblivious about it. I think he'd openly appreciate Kabru but wouldn't realise they were in a relationship until literally at the altar.

As another user put it: Laios is a human fascinated with monsters and wants to be one. Kabru sees himself as a monster and is fascinated with humans. They definitely compelement eachother.

#dunmeshi #dungeon meshi #labru #kabru dungeon meshi #laios dungeon meshi #more shipping discourse

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