#'the bad girl always goes with the bad guy'

[cutiefulism]

cw — pussy eating, pet names, caleb is a german shepard, uhhh idk what this is. soft sex soon guys pls 😓😓 fluff here n another smut here!

puppydog!caleb who begssss for a taste :(

“c-c’mon, pips, honey, baby, please? jus’ one time, and then i’ll leave you alone, i swear.”

and he looks so pathetic there, too — big, violet eyes peering up at you from between your legs, tail thumping on the rug behind him, furry ears pinned flat against his dark brown hair.

you’ve always been a sucker for cute things. how could you say no to a face like that?

a sigh blows past your pretty lips, and you roll your eyes. “okay, okay, fine.”

and caleb beams, ears perking up and tail swishing. “thank you, sweetness. i’ll be so good, i promise.”

oh, but you should’ve known caleb was lying.

because, i mean, get real. did you seriously expect him to stop after one orgasm?

he hasn’t been between those plush thighs in weeks, hasn’t felt them practically crushing his skull and jumbling his thoughts. it’s criminal to deprive him like this — call it animal neglect.

two big hands keep your legs spread apart and that delicious pussy on display for him. it’s so beautiful — he’s never seen one better.

well, he’s never seen one at all, save for the occasional porn video, but that doesn’t really count, does it? and he spent more of that time imagining it was yours rather than the girl on screen.

he’s snatched from his thoughts when you tug on his hair, pulling his face closer to that sopping mess, even as you whine for him to stop.

“c-caleb, you said just — fuck! — o-one.”

. . did he?

whoops.

a throaty chuckle reverberates against your poor labia, sending vibrations right up to your puffy clit, and you choke on a moan. “i meant one session, pipsqueak.” slurp. “‘s not my fault if ya took it wrong.”

your nails dig into his scalp, like you’re punishing him, and caleb barely stifles a whimper, his cock giving a nice twitch and a spurt of pre cum to add to the already massive stain in his briefs.

“no, you didn’t! you— ngh . . liar.”

his grin only grows wider.

you can call him whatever you want. he’ll let you call him a liar for the rest of his damn life if it means you’ll keep letting him touch you like this.

after all, what’s a few harsh, empty protests from you when caleb really knows how you feel?

how your cunt clenches down around his tongue, which you swear has gotten longer since the start of his little predicament, how your thighs squeeze and tremble around his head, greedily holding him in place, the way your moans grow more wanton and feverish in pitch . .

he’s going to get you to cum again.

when does he not?

“give it t’me, honey, thaaat’s it,” he coos, and that praise goes right to your head (and your pussy!).

you really don’t know how caleb got so good at this. he says he hasn’t been with anyone else, and you believe him, but . .

oh, there is no way he can be this good at pussy eating and you two have only done so occasionally.

but who are you to complain? he’s always been skilled, practically a natural at everything. this shouldn’t (and isn’t) an exception.

“ohh, i’m gonna cum—” you keen, back curving into the most delicious arch, and caleb only picks up his pace, licking and sucking, devouring every centimeter of your pussy he can.

he’s a man-dog starved, and you are the only thing that can satisfy him.

his lips latch onto your clit, sucking and thick tongue swirling while his fingers release your thigh and gather up a lewd mixture of his spit and your essence so that he can plunge two inside far enough to curl right at that spongey spot.

and you fall.

swollen lips parted in a silent ‘O’, one hand fisting the sheets while the other yanks at his hair. your legs quiver at each side of his head, and your hips should be too tired to even move, but they’re bucking into his face, grinding up like you’re trying to suffocate him.

though, in caleb’s opinion, this isn’t a bad way to go out. one of the best ways, actually.

he only pulls his face back when he’s positively sure you’re done, and he licks his lips. tasty.

he shifts up, so that he can see that fucked-out expression, eyes glassy and face flushed. “you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, and a hand comes up to push your hair back so he can lavish your face in kisses and licks.

“my pretty, pretty girl.”

you let out a tiny whine that breaks off into a yawn, and caleb’s smile softens. “yer pretty, too,” you mumble.

he snorts. “you’re prettier.”

your brows draw together. “nuh-uh.”

“yuh-huh.”

“nuh-uh!”

a thick finger flicks your forehead. “go to bed, pipsqueak.”

pregnant sex w puppy!caleb soon perchance.. also i might start back doing gradients but idk 🪫 ts kinda hard

[scho17]

In some fucked up way it was kinda funny. 

Guy on the run goes to Bludhaven to keep a low profile and catches the attention of a vigilante. The universe is laughing at him, surely. 

Everything was fine up until a month ago. Really, it was. Danny had obtained his own shitty apartment and yeah, maybe his dead end job made him want to eat dirt more than usual but everything was fine. There weren’t any eyes on him and now there were. A certain bird didn’t know how to leave him alone.

“Can I help you, Nightwing?” Danny says in a flat tone, leaning his forearms against the rails of the fire escape. He isn’t a cigarette type of guy but if ever there were a time this would be it.

“Mhum. I want names, same as always.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “We both know I can’t tell you anything.”

“But you could.”

“I could,” Danny acquiesced with a shallow nod. “And then what? When they can’t get to me, they’ll get to you.” He sighs, feeling infintely tired “in any case, the big bad bat isn’t known for leaving things he doesn’t understand alone, and I’m not really looking to be a lab rat again. Zero out of ten do not recommend. Turns out being vivisected fucking hurts, man.”

“Why won’t you let me take them out for you? Besides, I’m not weak. I can hold my own just fine.”

And thats the million dollar question, isn’t it? Dannys gaze fixes upon the ill looking moon, pallor as he peers through the smog of the dingy city and into the sky. “Because he told me to wait.”

“Who?”

Clockwork. 

Clockwork told him to wait. To do the one thing he hates more than anything in the world. To do the unforgivable - to sit idle when they had Ellie. As much as he’d love to spit venom and recite every reason why the GIW needed to be taken care of much sooner rather than whenever Clockwork had in mind, he can’t. He’s - and Ancients, he’ll never forgive himself - scared. He’s scared.

Logistically, he knows he’s strong. Stronger than anyone in any of those facilities compounded. Stronger than Vlad in terms of raw power if not in wiles, he’s stronger than Pariah Dark. Danny has tested his mettle against the worst of the worst and came out on top but he’s still fucking scared. Isn’t that something? Crown prince of the Infinite Realms is scared. 

There’s no one to magically make it better. No one to lean on because he’s the strongest, he’s it. And if the strongest can’t stand up because they’re too busy having a panic attack at the sight of a lab coat then really, what use are they?

“I can’t tell you that.” He glances down to the alleyway below them. It’s filthy. Wet newspaper plastered to the pavement, old gum cemented in place like spots on a dalmatian. It looks a lot like how Danny feels most days.

Nightwing frowns. “I can help you,” he says. It sounds painfully earnest, like he believes he really, really, could. 

“That's a nice offer, Nightwing, but I can’t take it yet.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

There he is. That’s the boy the bat raised. “Can’t.”

*

The next time Dick sees Danny it isn’t in Bludhaven. 

It’s months later in her sister city, Gotham. Crime Alley, to be specific. It was during the tail end of a joint patrol with the newly minted Robin, Tim, whom he had sent back to the cave early. His eyes snagged on the figure of a young man carrying a child in the middle of the wet season, a thin thoroughly soaked through navy blue sweater clinging to him like a second skin. It was pouring down like the heavens didn’t know how to stop grieving. 

It seemed as anguished as Dick was in the immediate absence of Jason. He blinks tiredly and washes the thought away. There’s a little girl cradled in Danny’s arms with hair just as pitch black as his own, burrowing her small face in his neck, tiny arms clinging as the man himself runs his hand soothingly on her back, murmuring apologies into her hair. “I know, I know, I’m sorry Ellie, I’m sorry. It’s okay, it's- We’re out. We’re okay.”

It’s a painfully private moment, one that he feels guilty for witnessing. The girl - Ellie, sobs into Danny’s chest. It isn’t his place to watch, to witness this. All the same, he wishes he could comfort them somehow. 

[kisakunt]

Choso getting all jealous of a fuck machine and your dildo collection?

-🫡

“Why do you need that?” It’s a simple question, but you can’t tell if he’s angry or not. You and Choso were going through your closet, some spring cleaning if you will, and he happened to stumble upon your private box.

“I don’t know, it’s fun.” You don’t think it’s a big deal. Almost every girl has a sex toy or two. Sure, maybe you’re a little bit overboard— you did buy a three hundred dollar contraption that physically fucks your favorite dildo into you— but are you so bad for liking a little pleasure?

He pauses, fingers tracing over the veins on your hyperrealistic toy.

“Am I,” He starts, pausing for a second as if he’s questioning himself. “Am I not doing a good enough job?” Shit.

“No! No, baby, you’re perfect.” You reach and grab the dildo out of his hands, quickly shoving it out of the box. “You’re gone a lot, though, and I don’t know… I get needy, I guess?”

“Oh.” That didn’t seem to appease him. ��I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to leave you unfulfilled.”

“No! Cho, you’re not understanding.” Your hand is over his and it feels like religion. You never get over him. “I think about you every time.”

“Yeah but if I were fucking you enough you wouldn’t need this.” Your heart drops. In some sick, twisted way you think it’s cute. 

“Is it better than me?”

“No.” He finally looks up at you, eyes full of something you can’t seem to understand, and also a little pain.

“Does it make you cum?” You’re not going to lie to him. If it didn’t, that would be a horrible waste of three hundred dollars.

“Yes.”

He’s grabbing you before you can even think twice, yanking you towards your bed with still such a timid touch. It’s a soft push when your back falls onto the mattress, and he’s on top of you in an instant.

“I’m the only thing that’s supposed to make you cum.” Choso fucks sweet. He can get rough, he can fuck you like he hates you, but despite all that he is a gentle lover. There’s never been a moment having sex with him that you haven’t felt his care radiating from him. You can still feel it right now as he latches himself onto your neck— open-mouthed and sloppy—, but there’s a sense of selfishness you’ve never felt before. Possession. He’s jealous.

It’s a silly concept, you think, to be jealous of a sex toy— but Choso is a silly guy. His hands trace down your stomach, fingers hovering over your hip before they go lower, touching you over your pants.

“I don’t like that you have those.” Choso is never controlling. You know he’s not telling you to get rid of them, more so conveying his emotions to you like you’ve begged him to do.

You gasp as he circles your clit, pussy wet under the cloth of your leggings. There’s a sense of routine when you and Choso fuck. He’s always asking what’s okay, always asking what feels good, always checking on you. But now, he strips you naked without a word, bringing himself down to suck at one of your tits while his hand goes back down to your now bare cunt.

He doesn’t waste time with your clit. His fingers plunge inside you, curling into your g-spot as he moves them in and out of you.

“Does it go faster than this?”

“Yes,” It’s shaky, because even though it hasn’t been long Choso knows how to make you feel good. Then he speeds up and it’s better and you’re cockdrunk without even having his cock.

“Oh, shit.” His tongue is back to lapping circles around your nipple, his hair poking at your neck, his chin pressing into your ribs, and you’re overwhelmed. The room is full of sounds of just wet— from his mouth and your pussy— and it’s vulgar and crass and lewd and you want him.

You cum quick. He feels it on his middle and ring finger— you taught him that, you taught him everything, he’s your picture perfect fuck toy— and whines into your chest.

“I’m going to fuck you now.”

It doesn’t take him long to live up to his promise. He’s bottoming out in you without a second thought, balls hitting you every time he thrusts.

“This is what you’re supposed to have.” You think you might be stupid right now. Actually, you can’t think at all— sharp breaths and erratic moans leaving you.

Choso is a whiner, but right now he groans. He’s fucking you like he needs you, like he loves you, like you’re meant to be his.

It’s almost grotesque; the way your pussy drips from both of your arousal, the sloppiness of the way it sounds each time he bullies in and out of you, the desperation from your spasming cunt.

“Does it feel like this?” He’s barely getting out the words, almost incomprehensible. “Does it fuck you better than me? Does it fucking love you?”

That’s enough to make you cum again. And now, you feel stupid for ever having it.

“I’m sorry!” He’s relentless, each thrust pounding at your cervix, stretching out the softness of your walls. “I’m sorry, I’m yours, I’m sorry.” And it’s beyond the toys, it’s beyond the insecurity and jealousy, it’s beyond primal emotions.

It’s connection. Sweat drips from his hair onto your cheeks, and in a desperate move you lift your head to lick it off his temple. He owns you. You can both feel it in the way your soft walls clench around him, you can both feel it as your legs wrap in a loose pretzel around his waist, you can both feel it as tears form in your eyes from how much it all is.

“I love you, I’m sorry, I’m yours.” It’s weak, muffled by your moans and the sound of his pelvic bone slapping yours. His hips rub at your clit each time he snaps them into you, his cock grazing the top of your pussy in a way you didn’t know was possible.

“Cum, please,” It’s pure yearning. You can tell he’s close from the way he hiccups his breaths, from the way his head has dipped down into the crook of your neck, from the way he begs you through gritted teeth. “I need you to cum, let me make you cum.”

And how could you deny Choso? So you let go, nails scratching at his back, fingers gripping at the slightest bit of fat on his waist, head lulled into the mattress, and you cum.

And so does he, continuing his choppy movements to fuck his cum further and further into you, getting you as full of him as he can.

He collapses on you for a brief moment, before he shifts himself out of you and next to you, arm wrapping around you as he presses kisses onto the top of your head.

“Is it better than that?” It’s breathy, exhausted and worn, but he sounds so sure of himself you can almost see his smile.

“No.” Choso hums, shifting gears into aftercare.

You finish your cleaning the next day, and when you’re back in your closet, Choso can’t find your precious collection anywhere. He thinks he must’ve done a good job.

[criblovr]

｡‧˚ʚ caregiving for dummies ɞ˚‧｡⋆ - the series

In a world where classifications exist— regressors, caregivers, flips, and neutrals— Agatha has been classified for years, decades. Shocking news for her friends, she was classified as a caregiver. Too bad every little she’s met has run for the hills.

Episode one: The decision

tags: classification au, caregiver agatha, gender neutral reader, cg!agatha harkness x little!reader, social worker lilia

notes: here’s the first episode! i’m so excited to start my very first series on here and hope you guys are too :3 i’ve gotten so much support for this idea and feel so loved! have fun reading, then come to my inbox and tell me ur thoughts :p

It was warm today. The first time in months that Agatha didn’t feel the need to put on a coat. It was still chilly, a little breeze that made you shiver so often, but the sun was out and warmed you right up, after.

Agatha always liked taking a morning walk, she felt so much more awake after.

Today was no different. She threw on an outfit and left for her walk. Sometimes, she’d bring Señor Scratchy in his stroller to accompany her. But her bunny thumped and ran from her, telling her, bluntly, that he wasn’t up for a walk today.

She walked slow, sipping a cup of tea. The warmth of the tea filled her tummy and comforted her. From a distance, she could hear a family laughing together. Shut up.

It was too early for that much noise. They’ll wake the entire neighborhood soon enough. Urgh.

Agatha was such an asshole.

She actually really adored those neighbors kids. Even if they screamed each time Agatha tried to make them smile. Their caretakers would awkwardly smile and speed away. Some neighbors were nicer about it, trying to make a lame excuse why their little yelled ‘witch!’ straight to her face.

Agatha was classified at 22 years old. 28 years ago. She waited until she was nearly 40 to register as CWOA (Caregiver with open arms.) It was a worldwide organization. Of course it had different names for different countries but it was nearly all the same. Once classified as a caregiver, you had a choice to register right then and there or— register when you were ready. Same went for flips and littles.

When Agatha registered, she was full of excitement. Her agent gave her all the paperwork she needed once her home was ‘open’ for potential littles. They sent her pamphlets, magazines, books, and a small gift basket when she was done. All of it preached how wonderful caregiving was, how your life feels complete once you have your little.

Ten years later… her house is empty.

Agatha was optimistic at first. Everyone told her that the first year was just waiting, then the next year— when she got her first call of a potential match— her dreams were crushed.

A little girl, tiny age: 5. Big age: 21.

She approached the little girl slowly, smiling hard. Then… “WITCH! MISS!” The girl called out to her social worker and ran behind her. Her throat felt like it was closing up on her. She wasn’t going to cry, but she wanted to.

After that incident, she rarely got any calls from her agent. They must’ve flagged her status. Potentially ill fit caregiver.

She had a few meetings after that, all went horribly. They were terrified of her. She considered just dropping out. She was just scaring these children anyway. She felt like an odd one out. (Which is true.)

A good amount of West View saw Agatha Harkness as a baby eater, an evil witch, and an outcast. Her town didn’t like her. She embraced it most times, walked through the streets with confidence. And she had a few friends at least.

Wanda.

Which…

She wasn’t a person she’d usually spend time with. Wanda was very upbeat, always giggling. She’s surprised she was classified as a caregiver than a little. But she couldn’t deny that Wanda was a good friend. She goes out to town with her, gives her advice, and respects her. Like Agatha, Wanda, too, has a reputation.

A lot of the townspeople think of Wanda as a lunatic. Mostly because Wanda is a over-paranoid caregiver when it comes to her little. She’s insanely protective, as Agatha would be too.

xxxx

You nearly trip when you attempt to put your shoes on. You were late, as always. Your alarm hadn’t rang at the time it was supposed and now you’re 15 minutes late to your meeting with your social worker. You weren’t even sleeping, you were lying on your couch scrolling through the movie section for an hour straight.

You had been classified last year and hadn’t registered to CWOA. You hadn’t felt like it was the time. (Or if it was ever the time.) Your teachers had always scolded you for being so reckless. So irresponsible.

They made you feel like it was impossible for anyone to tolerate you.

Then you get classified as a little. It made sense, you didn’t hate yourself for it. It was inconvenient sometimes but you handled it the best you could.

As a classified little with no caregiver, you were required to meet with your social worker every month. Sorta like a wellness check. It went well most times, just standard questions.

Have you been eating minimum of three meals a day?

Have you found yourself in a potential dangerous situation while regressed?

Have you kept up with cleaning, laundry, and hygiene?

They want to make sure you are okay with taking care of yourself. The meeting lasts an hour maximum.

With no time to spare, you leave out the door in a rush, catching the bus just on time.

The commute there was about 15 minutes or so. It gave you time to catch your breath and relax. This meeting in particular was going to be different. The month prior your social worker had suggested registering you to CWOA.

It was completely out of the blue. Every meeting with Miss Lilia went quick and right to the point. You hadn’t expected something different from her usual routine.

As the bus moved, you cracked your knuckles, nervously. You didn’t even the thought of it.

It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t particularly fun either.

Once you’re registered with the organization, you’re made a portfolio. All your personal details are put onto several different papers for random caregivers to see.

Of course you only shared what you wanted to share. But still— scary.

Littles get called into the office of the organization to meet different caregivers, sometimes they get to play in the playroom as they wait. Which does sound fun.. you couldn’t lie about that. Still, It felt very weird. It was too exposed for your likely.

But. You trusted your social worker. She was caring and understanding, she didn’t make her meetings unnecessarily awkward or boring. Sometimes, she’d bring along her kitty with her and let you play with her as you both talked.

After getting off the bus, you walked a short distance to the office. There were several of these offices around the state— the entire country. This one was the closest to your home, hence being assigned Miss Lilia when you were classified.

“Hi, sweetheart. You have Lilia at 3?” The front desk lady asked.

You nodded, peeking above her desk.

“Are you looking for some candy?”

“Mmh… yes?”

The lady laughs, sweetly. “We’re all out but I promise we’ll have plenty next month, ‘kay?”

Just as you were going to whine, Miss Lilia peeks her head from the hallway.

“You know whining won’t magically give you candy.”

You turn to her, your ears turning warm. Without speaking, Lilia turns back and starts walking to her office, you following behind.

Once in her office, she sits down behind her desk. The absence of her kitty makes you frown momentarily, then Lilia speaks.

“How are you feeling?”

“I don’t get a hello?”

Lilia smirks, “Hi, baby. How are you feeling?”

“I feel.. nervous. And I didn’t get to watch a movie before I left, so upset too.”

Lilia hums, acknowledging you as she logs into her computer.

“I’ve given you plenty of movie recommendations.”

“Yeah, but you know I’m super picky when it comes to finding the prefect movie for the prefect time.”

Lilia playfully scoffs and continues to type on her computer. She’s finding your file, based on her focused look on her face. Once she does find it, she looks at you, fully engaged now.

“We’ll go over the usual questions then we can talk about CWOA, or would you like to talk about that first?”

You fidget with your fingers, wanting to whine again but knowing Lilia wouldn’t appreciate that. She does not tolerate whining in her office.

“I’d like to go over the questions first, please.”

The questions went smoothly, your answers not changing from the last time you were here.

“I’ve been skipping dinner…”

“I felt small when I got lost in a parking lot last week.”

“I sleep good! I did fall asleep at 12 last night.. but I was finishing The Little Mermaid.”

Lilia sighed, her hand resting against her forehead. You weren’t clueless, you knew you hadn’t been taking care of yourself the best as you use to. You knew your answers were definitely a call for concern. You just really needed to start picking up your slack. That’s all.

“Honey, what’s happening? You’ve done so well at taking care of yourself. CWOA are going to be banging at my door by tonight.”

You melted into your chair, sighing louder than Lilia. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no. Don’t apologize. This is normal, okay? So—what’s changed?”

You look down at the chair you’re sitting in. Its cheap leather is peeling, you pick at it. “I’ve been feeling… lonely.”

“In what way?”

“Um… I don’t know. Lately, when I feel small, I’ve been getting a little emotional… a little smaller than usual.”

Lilia looks to her computer, clicking a few buttons before finding the specific folder. “You’ve been regressing to.. 1-3? By yourself?” Lilia’s face is full of concern.

“Yeah..”

“I believe CWOA is the direction we should take, hon.”

“I don’t feel like doing paperwork today,” you groan.

“It’s just a few signatures and answering a few questions,” Lilia says, looking at you with a no nonsense attitude. “Do you remember the procedures related to it?”

You sigh again, what feels like the millionth time today, “yes.”

After almost two hours, you have a shiny portfolio, a few stickers, and a pamphlet.

Littles don’t usually leave the office with more than that. The more important stuff is dealt with for you by your social worker.

Instead of hoping on the bus again, you decide to walk home. It feels warm outside for the first time in a while. You let yourself drift off to the thought of possibly having a mama.

Your stomach does a flip. A nervous, excited one.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Dare or Dare?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You and Dean have a special relationship. A never-ending game of Dare or Dare goes on when suddenly, you want a bit of truth. It’s time to decide if you want tot cross the thin line between friends and something more.

Square Filled: “Stop complaining. I saved your life.” (2021) for @spnquotebingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Dean would have driven to the bar but his car was wrapped around a tree so it’s not able to run right now. You told him not to speed through the woods like a maniac, but did he listen to you? No. When does he ever? If he had, you would have driven him out of the woods with minor scratches on his car. Now he needs a whole new engine, so you’re going to let him suffer alone with that one.

Thankfully, the bar isn’t too far from the Bunker, or else Dean would have taken one of the other cars. It’s good to get some fresh air and get in your steps even though this recent hunt has you going well over thirty thousand.

“God, I’m never going to get the stench of werewolf blood out of my clothes.”

“Get new ones.”

“What about my car? It’s going to take forever to fix her up.”

“You like doing that kind of work. You said it relaxes you.”

“It’s going to take weeks for the cuts on my legs to heal. Not to mention I have a fracture in my left arm. I think I also got a concussion.”

“Stop complaining. I saved your life,” you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, after I made it easy for you.”

You scoff with a smile and push him away from you flirtatiously. “Just admit I’m a better hunter than you.”

“No, sweetheart. I’m better.”

“Yeah, whatever you say, tough guy.” Dean looks at you like you have two heads. “All I’m saying is that I hunted with blood gushing out of my vagina but sure, little cuts on your legs are definitely something to get upset over.”

“I’m not…” Dean pouts. “They’re big cuts.”

You laugh and push open the door to the bar. The place isn’t crowded with a lot of people, but there are enough for the place to be buzzing with chatter. There are two spots by the bar that you snag and wave over to the bartender who finishes with a customer.

“Two beers, please.”

“You got it.”

He comes back with your drinks and you slide one over to Dean who catches it easily. This is the bar you two frequent a lot, but there are always new faces. This is the kind of bar someone goes to when they’re passing through town. It’s a run-down bar that has good music and delicious alcohol, so it’s good enough in your book.

There is a group of girls by the pool table that Dean has his eye on, and you can’t help but feel a pang in your heart. You’ve practically grown up with the Winchesters. You met Dean when you were a freshman in high school and immediately clicked with him. He was easy to talk to, and he helped you get away from your overbearing parents.

It was hard not to fall in love with him. He’s easy on the eyes, he has a way with the words, and he is very charming. He knows just what to say when you feel sad, he is always there for you even if all you need is silent company, and he makes the bad times seem not so bad. The first time he brought him a woman for the night, you stayed in your motel room and cried yourself to sleep. Granted, emotions were already high from the hunt you had just finished, but you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be on the receiving end of his romance.

That’s where you’re stuck right now. In limbo. You’ve been here for decades. There had been a couple of times when you two were close to crossing that line (thanks to expensive alcohol you got Castiel to steal), but you never went over the line. Why would you? It’s scary on the other side. So many “what if” questions and not enough answers. At least on this side, you know where you stand.

“See something you like?” you ask, eyeing the same group of girls as he is.

“Wanna play Dare?” he grins.

Oh, God, not this game. Truth or dare is such a boring game so you play Dare or Dare with Dean. It’s just like how it sounds, but it usually ends with either one of you getting too close to that invisible line. You and Dean have a naturally flirtatious relationship because he makes everything so easy. It’s very easy to fall for his charm when he smiles. He has such a pretty smile.

“Sure,” you say, plastering a smile onto your face.

“Okay, I’m going to go over there and talk to the little blonde, and I dare you to come over there and exclaim I was the best sex you ever had and leave. You know, really sell how great I am.”

“How do I put up with you?”

“You love me,” he grins.

There goes that damn smile. You open your mouth to deny him but what comes out is the complete opposite.

“Okay, bet.”

Dean is gone before you can back out of the dare. He’s always daring you to do something like this. It helps him get laid which should be a deterrent given your current situation, but it’s like you can’t say no. Having his attention on you albeit a tiny amount, is enough for you to agree to anything he asks.

Dean walks over to the group and introduces himself to the pretty blonde one. All of her friends kind of step to the side to give her some alone time with the sexy stranger, and she slinks up to his side with a sultry smile on her face.

The only reason you’re doing this is because you wish you’d know if he was the best sex you’ve ever had.

Okay, no time like the present. You chug the rest of your beer even though it doesn’t give you the buzz you’re craving right now. You walk over to Dean after giving him a few minutes with the blonde, and you tap him on his shoulder.

“Dean?” He turns and smirks at you. “Dean Winchester?”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Remember, it’s all for the bit. He doesn’t usually crank up the charm for you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“How could you? You never called me back.”

“Sweetheart, what we had… I was scared. I had to leave. It wasn’t you, it was me. You understand, right?”

You can practically see the little blonde drooling over Dean from the corner of your eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I can understand that. It’s just… you were the best sex I ever had.” To really sell it home (and to see what Dean would do), you slap him not too hard but not gentle either. “Goodbye, Dean Winchester.”

With that, you turn on your heel and stalk back to the bar. He wasn’t expecting you to slap him but it was a nice touch. The pretty blonde can’t keep her hands off him. It should excite him, but he is suddenly not feeling it with her anymore. He honestly wanted to see if you would do the dare. He didn't have a desire to take someone home tonight, but you just handed him on a platter to this woman.

You don’t turn back to look at Dean because you don’t want to know if he’s watching you. Sure, it would be nice to know his attention is on you but what if he’s not watching you? What if all he wanted from you was to make sure he got laid? Not that he ever had a problem in that department. He could easily get any woman he wanted.

You wonder if you’ll ever have your moment with him, but it’s unlikely. He has to be interested in other women because he never takes it beyond flirting with you. Maybe you’re just destined to be his friend and nothing more.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

A handsome man stands next to you at the bar with a drink in hand. He looks nice enough. Nothing like Dean, but it wouldn’t hurt to entertain him for the night. If Dean is going to slut his way into a woman’s pants, then you can do the same thing.

“No,” you smile.

“I couldn’t help but see you slap that man over there. An ex-boyfriend of yours?”

“No,” you chuckle. “He’s just a friend. We were doing a bit. I’m Y/N.”

“Kaleb. So, you from around here?”

Lana… Leslie… Lauren…? Whoever she is, she can’t keep her hands off Dean. He knew she was an easy target but this is too easy. She ditched her friends to spend more time with Dean, and all she’s been doing is talking his ear off about… well, he doesn’t even know. This should have made him happy yet he’s not into it at all. The music dies down because the song is ending, but before the new one comes on, he hears something.

Your laughter. It’s very hard not to ignore your infectious laughter.

He snaps his head to the bar counter and sees you talking with a man he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anyone in this bar, but he’s more aware of the men than he is of the women. Maybe it’s because he is a man and he knows what men think about when they see a pretty woman.

He just did it not even an hour ago. The little green monster sits proudly on his shoulder, reminding him that because he never made a move, other men can sweep away what’s his. You’re his whether you know it or not, and he’s not saying that to be creepy. You’ve always been his. You know it. He knows it. He, apparently, isn’t man enough to say something to you or do anything about it.

The only reason he never made a move is because you never did, and you never took it past harmless flirting. Neither did he, but that’s beside the point.

Lana-Leslie-Lauren runs her hands down his chest but he’s not looking at her. His eyes are glued to you and the way the man keeps inching toward you. It’s only when his hands land on your thigh that he jumps into action.

“I’m sorry, Leslie,” he decided to take the jump and guess her name, “but I have to get going.”

“It’s Laura.”

Eh, he was close. Does that make him an asshole? Definitely. Does it make him sorry? Not one bit.

“Right. Sorry, sweetheart.”

Dean peels himself off her and stalks to the bar where the man has gotten even closer to you.

“Hey, sweetheart, Sam needs us. He says he might have something for us.”

“Okay.” You take out some money for the bill. “It was nice meeting you, Kaleb.”

“Wait.” He pulls out a business card and hands it over to you. “Call me.”

You take the business card without a word and leave with Dean. You pass by a trash can and toss the card inside. You have no desire to call the man. He just didn’t do it for you. Dean sees this and tries to hide the smirk on his face.

“Does Sam have anything for us, or were you just bullshitting?” Dean’s grin is everything you need to know. “Just as well. I was getting bored.”

“Nice slap, by the way,” he chuckles. “So, was the guy not interesting enough?”

“Him? He was nice but nothing he said was making me swoon. A guy hasn’t done that to me in a long time.”

“When was the last time?”

You look at him as you walk back to the Bunker. How can you tell him the last time a man made you swoon, truly swoon, was in high school? It was senior year and no one had asked you to Prom. You had a group of friends you could go with but they all had their own dates. You would be “third-wheeling” so to speak, and you didn’t want to watch them be all cute and cuddly with each other.

That is, until Dean asked you. It was the first time you swooned for a man, and it was the only time you did.

“I don’t know,” you finally answer. “I guess I’m unswoonable.”

You two reach the bunker and head inside and Dean takes out his key to unlock the door. He can’t help the snicker from escaping his mouth. It sounds like a giggle.

“That’s because you’re so hard to please.”

“Okay, fine.” You walk inside the Bunker but don’t go down the stairs just yet. “I dare you to swoon me.”

“Are you you’re ready for that?”

No. “Yes.”

“Okay.”

Dean swiftly grabs your waist and pulls you into him. Before you have a chance to wrap your head around what’s happening, Dean walks you back into the wall on the metal landing overlooking the war room. Dean slides his hand into your hair to move it out of the way before trailing his touch to your jaw. Your lips part from shock as he gets closer to your face. He rubs the tip of his nose against yours, and you poke your tongue out to wet your lower lip.

He’s so close that you could touch his lips with your tongue. Your heart is beating so much that you’re scared he can hear it. Your skin has a very thin layer of sweat on it, and your hands shake slightly from the anticipation. Your eyes flutter shut thinking he’s going to finally kiss you when Cock-Block Winchester speaks from the war room.

“Hey, how was the bar?”

Dean pulls away from you, taking away his heat, but you can’t move. You look up into his green irises. Is that hesitation you see? Regret? Lust? Dean lets go of you but doesn’t break eye contact with you.

“Yeah, it was fine,” he says to his brother.

Finally, he looks away and walks down the metal stairs, leaving you alone to think about what his lips might have felt like against yours. If he doesn’t know how you feel, he does now. You weren't pulling away or stopping him. You were too scared to make the first move because what if he only did this because of the dare? What if he doesn’t like you like that?

You let out a shaky breath before following Dean down the stairs. Dean watches as you pass by Sam without so much as a word, and he can’t help but feel bad for what he did. Yes, it was a dare, but he was also playing with your emotions like that. You can’t constantly flirt with him and not grow some type of feelings for him. Maybe all he needs is some sleep to wash this feeling off him.

You take your time unpacking your duffel bag, needing an excuse to stay locked up in your room. A few hours go by before someone knocks on your door. Knowing it can only be one of two people, you’re a bit hesitant to open it. What if it’s Dean? What will you say to him? Still, you walk to the door and open it. Dean stands on the other side of the door with a look that can either be nervousness or regret.

“What’s up?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Dare me again.”

“What?”

“Dare me again.”

“Why?”

“I have tried for the past three hours to get you out of my head, and I can’t. I should have done something earlier, and I didn’t…” He walks you backward into the doorframe and puts his arm above you to semi-trap you. Not like you’d move anyway. “Dare me again. I need to know.”

“Know what?” you whisper.

“That you feel what I feel. If you do, you’ll dare me again. If not, I’ll go back to my room and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

You look down at his lips before looking into his eyes. “I dare you to make me swoon.”

Dean slides his hand into your hair to move it out of the way before trailing his touch to your jaw. Your lips part from shock as he gets closer to your face. He rubs the tip of his nose against yours, and you poke your tongue out to wet your lower lip.

He’s so close that you could touch his lips with your tongue. Your heart is beating so much that you’re scared he can hear it. Your skin has a very thin layer of sweat on it, and your hands shake slightly from the anticipation.

“Dare me to kiss you,” he whispers, barely audible.

You don’t. Instead, you grab the back of his neck and pull him in close to you. You make the first move and kiss him, igniting something special between you two. After decades of doing the same dance, finally, the song is over and you’re able to step into this new chapter in your life.

x

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[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Is there any official explanation as to why shinichiro has the worst luck when it comes to love (worst luck when it comes to live too tbh)? Boy got rejected for 20 times 😭

I actually have some hc about the reason behind:

While he is attractive both in the manga/anime/live action, if I remember correctly the characters who are canonically described as good-looking are kazutora (being told handsome and sweet-looking by several characters), hakkai (told handsome and also works as a model), and haruchiyo-senju (while youtubers don't always need to look attractive, appearance does have a huge factor to boost the popularity). So MAYBE if the events of tokrev happened in real life, shinichiro would look like a plain guy whose face doesn't attract many ladies lol

He is chasing the wrong girls. I read a book titled Yakuza Moon and it's an autobiography of a gangster's daughter, how in her teenage years she was involved in ladies gang and hung around with boys from biker gangs. So basically the kind of girls who are attracted to gang members will be those who are familiar with the environment too. Someone like emma, yuzuha, and senju would love to be with a powerful gang leader. In the earlier chapters, emma was shown at Toman meet-up with several girls who dress in gyaru fashion. These girls, as told in Yakuza Moon, tend accompany the biker gangs riding throughout the town and even have sex with them. So shinichiro's taste might be similar to takemichi, falling for a good girl like hinata. But unfortunately all the good girls he crushed on don't want to have any involvement with a gang leader lol

There is no official explanation unfortunately! I actually do think his gang affiliation could be the problem too though. Because of how gangs are typically seen in Japan a lot if girls may just not have wanted to associate with him, fearing their own reputation would go down. It could also be possible that some of the girls were scared of him, when Mikey goes to Takemichi's school we see a lot of fear from the students because he's a gang leader (tbf he did cause a lot of trouble too though), we also know from Emma's character book that the kids at school were scared of her when she started because of her affiliation to Mikey too. So it's possible that people were scared of Shinichiro too, despite his personality they just saw "gang leader".

Could also see it being just because he's really bad with girls, he get's nervous or is just a bit too cheesy with them. We also see him playing about with Emma when they first meet and he comes across as being a bit too confident, also implying that he thinks knows girls well, which is then immediately disproven. If he tries to flirt in a similar way with girls he's actually interested in then I can see why they might be a bit off put by it.

[eah-confessions]

I feel like this is the case with a lot of fandoms, especially with *hem hem* tHe PoLiTiCaL aNd EcOnOmIcAl StAtE oF tHe WoRlD, but fr I feel like people get very...two-dimensional in their views of people, and therefore their analyses and opinions on characters. Like this has always been a thing but I feel it's much more concentrated lately. And I see this ESPECIALLY exemplified in people's perception of Apple White. I know we talk about her SO MUCH but it's because people feel like they have to have a strong take on her. Specifically because her views reflect modern society in a lot of the shows fundamental themes. I see a lot of either "she's terrible and fundamentally a bad person and if you defend her or empathize with her you also suck and are ignorant" or "she's perfect and I will defend all of those objectively sucky things she's done because she's just a sad girl."

Hey guys hey guys; people are three dimensional. Apple is a victim and a toxic friend simultaneously, who goes through a CHARACTER ARC. I feel like in the end, this is what people forget. At the beginning, yeah, she is a highly flawed character. In the end, she is working to change and make amends and grow. Why should we just choose to ignore that? And that's not to say we should ignore the fact she inflicted a lot of damage and started a lot of conflict, cause she absolutely did, regardless of whether she has some justification. There's a balance.

I see this with so many fandoms but like Apple is such a good example of this phenomenon. I find myself defending characters who wouldn't need a defense if they were just looked at from a nuanced perspective because of this so often. People will really have a take that seems like they either do not have the media literacy required to have watched the show, or just want to have some moral high ground.

THAT SAID. JUST TO COVER ALL MY BASES. I have a lot of empathy for the people who have these very negative takes because, as I stated,her character does reflect much of modern society, which affects and hurts a lot of people who are probably those who end up with these really strong takes, and that is perfectly valid. I just think it speaks to a greater, broad misunderstanding a lot of people then have, which is created by this hurt, because anything which influences peoples lives and emotions and wellbeing tend to lean in that direction.

I am just tired of opinions which take one thing and jump to another without considering the other perspective fully. And this goes for both sides, I just feel I see it more with negative takes than positive.

I could keep going, but I fear I would just end up with a legitimate essay. Which I could write. Maybe I will. Anyway.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

(it is getting late and my coherence is slowly deteriorating so I apologize if that was entirely unreadable, I just have a lot to say.)

-

[emblemxeno]

I think the thing that really bugs me when people talk about "3H is so much better than Fates in terms of grey morality"... is that it only focuses on a very specific subset of greyness as a whole. When you actually take a step back from the perspective the game shows you, it's actually not morally complex in the slightest, especially compared to Fates.

For Fódlan, you're introduced to a fundamentally broken system that thrives off of eugenicist breeding, abuse, tyranny, technological stagnation, religious dogma, theocracy and experimentation that saw a young girl watch her fellow test subjects almost all die having Crests implanted into them just to create a superhuman. Said theocracy is staved by a consummate liar who's basically "Corrin, but gone wrong and a terrible human being" with an inability to let go of severe mommy issues or the ability to let go of her hatred and genocide denialism, intentionally keeping up a lie to make the most of it. Said subject leader ended up wanting to cast down the oppressive system to make one of "merit," but becomes an imperialistic, authoritarian revanchist who stages a war of total conquest to enforce that order, and in her ending, doesn't even fully dismantle the titles of nobility outright. Dimitri was genuinely a decent person before the massacre that killed most of his family and almost everyone he loved, causing him to go under severe psychosis that, when unraveled, causes him to turn into a bloodlusted maniacal tyrant who's more in line with Ashnard from FE9 than the typical "good boy lord" archetype since Marth. The least horrible of the bunch is a neoliberal schemer who sides with the strongest side (in VW it's the Church, in GW it's against the church) who can and does show a willingness to drop his interests like a hot potato when it suits him and openly intended to have Almyra invade Fódlan to establish the continent as his own suzerain state. And each of them, if not held back by the sheer divine grace of Byleth's mute ass, ends up committing tons of atrocities in the opposition to manipulate the audience into thinking they chose the "right" side. Hell, even in YOUR route it's strongly implied you're doing the things in the other routes and the story just doesn't want you to consider it because you're the good guy from your POV.

They're all awful and war criminals, and no matter what people say, that isn't moral greyness or moral complexity. Having a story where there isn't a clearly-defined sense of right and wrong, good and bad, to define morally grey conflict as a whole leads to a story where they're all horribly awful if the story isn't smart enough to recognize it doesn't fully absolve them as a person for your actions nor does it dehumanize them. People set a 0-100 scale that's never in the middle assuming a war criminal is either a goodest boy who did no wrong or a violent monster who needs to be put down and not made excuses for it, when the truth is that people are far more complicated than they seem on the wholesale. 3H doesn't do this, it wants you to think your side is always the good guys and the enemy side is sympathetic but still the bad guys. And it does this to avoid pushing forward the truth that you're genuinely no better and that the story is openly feeding you an extremely impressionistic lie of events. This is where any moral greyness falls apart, as without any kind of acknowledgement of your side's failings in a morally grey conflict, there is no hope of making a story that's actually morally grey. You created "hero defeats woobie villain" type story-writing, just slapped a coat of paint calling it morally grey when it isn't.

To give a contrast, Fates goes out of its way to avoid ignoring the actions and consequences of Corrin's choices. All of the routes have players make choices that cause a severe lapse of judgement that leads to bloodshed on both sides and innocent people on both sides dying. On Birthright, you're intentionally invoked ludonarrative dissonance by Corrin in that route being loud and aggressive of killing Garon and not questioning the "good kingdom vs. evil empire" conflict... with not only Corrin not even trying to stymie the bloodshed, but the abundance of route maps and killing waves upon waves of enemies influences that bloodshed and is meant to make players question their actions even as they kill recruitable, named soldiers on the other side. Even Ryoma, by openly lying to Corrin about not about being blood related, is more morally complex because he did so in order to keep Corrin and his family together and because it's essential data, nevermind that Ryoma is strongly implied to know Nohr is starving and just... do nothing about it, feigning ignorance with Silas's explanation in Birthright Chapter 23. Even as far as Corrin being a genuinely good person, they still kill thousands in-story and they don't really care about who lives and who dies as long as it's not their Nohrian siblings, and this leads to Xander accidentally killing Elise and then committing suicide by cop. All while Corrin teaches Ryoma to change as a better person.

Conquest is even more morally complex and grey; Corrin goes back to Nohr with the inability to betray the only family they've ever known and try to end this madness internally, before realizing the privilege they commanded as a Nohrian royal and tried to sabotage the Nohrian war effort and work in any kind of change. He succeeded in ensuring no casualties in small skirmishes, but he failed miserably trying to ensure no deaths in Cheve as it suddenly made them realize the rot is far too institutional for them to fully reform; Garon is a flesh-puppet piloted by Anankos with no regard for anything but destroying both kingdoms, his two trusted men are evil, and the Nohrian royals are deep in denial their father who was once loving and kind has become rotten and abusive and caused so much trauma they don't want to even acknowledge he's been gone for so long. It's a frightening realistic depiction of an abusive household with how the Nohrian royals self-rationalize their control over a fundamentally fucked-up situation, and Corrin begins to see that when Azura reveals Garon's true form. Knowing that the Yato as is isn't strong enough to pierce Garon's blessing from the Rainbow Sage and actually defeat them (which is strongly implied if not all-but-confirmed to operate similarly to Ashnard and BK's blessings in FE9), they need to show Garon's true form to the army... so they intentionally and knowingly abet the genocidal invasion of Hoshido, needing to sacrifice his ideals to save as many people as he can in the least horrible, fucked-up way possible. Along the way while they save a few thousands die in the invasion and Corrin ends up seriously mentally breaking up along the way as he's forced to nearly kill his two brothers and become demonized by the nation he's putting to the sword for the greater good, as he's forced to keep up the lie of a heartless invader until it just... becomes too much. And this is the route people have the most issues with, despite being the route that is so fucking complex that it gives everyone the moral sympathy needed to be empathized with, while not excusing their actions.

What Fates does exceedingly well that 3H doesn't is that it recognizes that the characters' choices are their own actions, and expects readers to pay attention to dialogue to connect fundamental revelations of the plot. It doesn't need to make its characters morally hazy-feely or war criminals with fundamentally unsympathetic traits to make them morally complex, it does this by having the fundamental concept behind Fates is two forces of good people being trapped in a fundamentally violent and horrible war that threatens to tear the continent apart in the process. And Fates does that so exceptionally well by having actual moral complexity to the characters that merits reasons to go down each of the routes while not being so non-committal to calling out injustice or bad actions in the story that it completely destroys any point it has. With Fates, I get the feeling of two families and armies of good people trapped in a war that's engineered by a broken god wanting to destroy the world and both kingdoms. With 3H, I get the feeling many people in Syria felt about each of the factions being staffed with war criminals, rapists and mass-murderers. I can sympathize with all sides of Fates because it recognizes their actions as they are while not diluting their complexity as characters. I cannot sympathize with 3H's lords because they are all so solely-defined by their end slates that no amount of blood, violence or suffering will ever be enough to end the war and them crossing lines even Ryoma would never, ever do. Ryoma, as in the guy who runs basically Fates's equivalent of the Ninja CIA with all the ugliness it implies. Even he wouldn't do what Edlegard, Rhea and Dimitri stoop to in their oppositional and player routes, and while the story humanizes Ryoma, it just expects us to love 3H's blorbos so much we just begin making jokes about how war crimes are "expected" of the series and we should still forgive them because... the story presents it better?

It's a major reason the shitting on Fates's story while lofting 3H as the better one irritates me so much; Fates had an actual writer who was committed to the greater narrative and nuances of the characters that got botched in the implementation of the JP script (which was why IF was even more panned there than Fates was here, which has regular appreciators outside of hardcore FE fans) and got fixed in the localization (despite its flaws), while 3H expects people to just believe they're the good guys without actually thinking about what their actions entails or making consequences stick. And I think it's most infuriating because the reason why people got so weird about Fates, especially Conquest, is because it was so willing to make the player feel uncomfortable with their actions and provoke intentional dissonance in their actions of being rewarded for the right inputs as a Good Gamer™ versus the very visible suffering it causes, and it not saying to the camera "And That's Terrible" and expecting it to be evident within the context and subtext of the work. For many people, it wasn't, and gave such a bad first impression regardless of the sheer cohesive validity of the work that they just wrote it off and dismissed an amazing story as too little value to actually analyze. Meanwhile, 3H's logos, ethos and pathos follow-through sucked ass, but people forgave it because of the lore boner people had and because, when you break it down, 3H is no different than the "good guy vs. evil empire" stories the fandom derides, it just does so in a way that makes those your route deems "evil" sympathetic even when they really aren't. It was so telling that when FE fans said "We want grey morality!" what they really meant was "We want to be morally, objectively correct and rewarded for being a Good Gamer™ while the enemy army has a sob story that makes them sympathetic while still morally, objectively wrong!". In hindsight, it's not hard to see why, Arvis, Lyon and BK are the series's most popular villains, but it's not good writing to apply that to a story about war criminals while thinking sob stories serve as a sufficient excuse to unconscionable atrocities, because FE fans don't want to feel responsible for their actions. They're literally the kind of people Spec Ops: The Line critiques about the typical military FPS dudebro wanting to feel like a hero for being a war criminal, only implied to an intelligence ego-driven bunch of virgin nerds who cannot agree on basic fucking canon details.

...this was a really long ask, so I'll TL;DR it with "FE fans are bad at media analysis and really should stop calling 3H better written than Fates when 3H refuses to actually analyze its own context while Fates does so extensively in giving each of the cast initiative, including for their own fuck-ups."

While I will push back a little against some of the assertions regarding Rhea and Claude (and also Dimitri somewhat) given their circumstances of being the ones on the defense in 3H, I vehemently agree with your assessment, and that's why 3H in general falls flat for me in its storytelling.

Fates, as you say, has intentional dissonance that makes you question your actions when provided with more information the further you get into the game. 3H's dissonance just reads very unintentional.

Edelgard's entire route is obvious low hanging fruit, especially the scene where she executes Dimitri, accusing him of "being obsessed with her" when she's invading his country for no fucking reason other than wanting to enforce her will on independent countries. Instead of going to therapy, she decided to kill a bunch of people, she's nuts and will never not be a shit person.

But to your point, there are other lines in 3H that read similarly ridiculous, fanning the dissonance.

Edelgard and Claude's lines to Kostas in chapter 2 about "being noble and commoner isn't different and you don't have the right to kill actually", and they both sound like immature fuckwads. Claude's consistent push to pry information out of people is insensitive at best, and borders on invasion of privacy. Claude constantly both sides-ing the church and Edelgard, and that's not even going into the shit he pulls in Hopes. Dimitri both sides-ing the dynamic of nobles getting rid of their successors for not having crests. Dimitri constantly trying to find the best in Edelgard after he begins his recovery, to the point where an unbelieveable parley scene occurs, like give me a break. Rhea is never able to confront her issues and mistakes on screen unless she's dying or being romanced by Byleth. Sylvain's "battle of ideals" line in Azure Moon, Dorothea being sad over Ferdie in AM or VW despite him being kind of a coward in that he doesn't have the stones to bite back at Edelgard, Mercedes also has a line about Ferdinand, in general just the entire spiel that side characters make about fighting old friends because "there's no choice."

Does this cast have any self awareness or agency, or not? That's why I rail against Byleth's presence in the plot so much, because he's treated as the end all be all of what is right/moral/correct. Sure, characters can feel bad about what they're doing, but because Byleth (i.e. the player) is there, they must be on the right path in the end. And everyone has to be sypmathetic when you're against them because there has to be room for Byleth (i.e. the player) to have enough reason to join them in another route, otherwise the multi route structure doesn't make sense.

In concept it's already a story structure that warps itself around what makes the player insert feel most good, but in execution it's somehow even worse. And that's because all of it is done in dialogue, many lines of which I've already mentioned. You're not supposed to think about the material reality of the shitty things these characters do and say, because the priority is that they can tug at your heart enough for you to excuse them/fix them/justify them.

Claude is ultimately not a bad person as a whole, but the game really wants you to not consider how feckless and fickle he can be when faced with bad odds, especially when he kind of effectively abandons an entire country that he's supposed to be leading whenever Byleth's not supporting him. Rhea and Dimitri are snug fit into either "crazed opposition that must be taken care of" or "person project that You need to get a handle on", both interpretations taking agency away from making the player seem like a bad person or going in the opposite direction by making the player the ONLY person who's able to save them from themselves. And Edelgard is the queen of never being held to account the damage that she does, always skirting responsibility in-game and in the fandom because "she just did what she felt she had to," "sometimes change takes sacrifice and horrible choices," or "she just wanted to WALK with you, sensei!" All in an attempt to get you to not care what you do when siding with her, and to make you feel bad for her when you don't side with her.

The player must never feel bad about the objectively bad things they do, and must always feel correct and justified in the things they feel are correct. That's the 3H M.O. When you recognize that the people you side with are kinda shitty no matter the route, it's not because the writers wanted you to, it's because you put the time in the think about it long enough. The game wanted you to feel bad about the war because "we used to be FRIENDS", not because of the terrible things you do in the war in the first place, as if the methods and machinations aren't a significant part of why warfare fucking sucks.

And as you say, and I mostly agree on, is the Fates M.O. is not shying away from the negative impacts that Corrin's choice had. In Birthright, Corrin's close Nohrian allies/siblings die because of the choice he made, because siding with Hoshido had a ripple effect on how those near and dear to him were treated by Garon. Another part of Birthright's narrative is the Hoshidan cast having to get used to Corrin just being himself, and trusting that a Nohrian isn't who they believe them to be. Exposing Ryoma's ignorance and showing that his arrogant juggernaut plans aren't gonna cut it when it comes to establishing a lasting peace, is critical in showing that, yeah, mindlessly fighting Nohr doesn't fix the root problems. It intentionally pulls the rug under the player by going "yeah your side kind of fucking sucks for charging at Nohr all this time, when these are people with dreams, loved ones and livelihoods."

Conquest puts a twist on this, by having Corrin be relatively successful in some areas when it comes to changing perceptions towards Nohr, helping people gain autonomy from a brutal regime, and actively undermining the horrible things that war has its soldiers do. The rug pull is then done during chapter 13, and again after the Sakura map, where Corrin is smacked with the reality that sometimes you fucking fail at what you're trying to do in story, despite the player succeeding in gameplay. The player representative doesn't have complete control nor is he treated with kid gloves in Fates when faced with the ugliness from his side and the opposition.

And what's greatest about it, is that it's showing you, rather than employing a missable dialogue in a monastery about how sad it is to fight against former classmates. Dude, I know it's sad, is that really all you can say? The message begins to dull when it's bashed over your head too much, and especially when there's no meaningful impact in story, all because there can't be because Byleth (the player) has to be accounted for as the ultimate arbiter of who joins him or not. You can't avoid feeling shitty about Scarlet, like you can with Ferdie. You can try your best trying to get around the retainers in Fates when you fight them, but they still have crushing death lines because the story is written to accommodate the fact that you're killing people who aren't evil at their core. 3H has to make sure you can avoid that before a war even starts. Flora and Ryoma's suicides, Xander's suicide-by-cop, Takumi's descent, the fates of the Kitsune and Wolfskin who were caught in bad circumstances (something that, despite claims of poor writing, happens all the fucking time and is another shitty thing about war that more need to recognize); the topics of isolationism, war profiteering, subterfuge and treason, spy networks and thievery, the ethics of bystanderism, FUCKING CIVILIAN CASUALTIES.

That last one-alongside the general idea of trying to win a war with as little bloodshed as possible-is one of the prime driving forces of an ENTIRE ROUTE in Fates, and is still pretty prevalent for Corrin's beliefs in the other two. In 3H? Barely a footnote in all honesty, and more so an extension of how other characters are perceived. Edelgard forcing civilians to stay when Enbarr is under siege? Claude says "it takes some resolve, I gotta hand it to her." Remire being destroyed and the Empire doing fuck all? Uhhh, look over there, they got taken in by Rhea, don't worry about it. What about the effects of the Alliance being dismantled and given to the Empire, Kingdom or the church? Or showing more of the people in the monastery town that face the most danger from the Imperial invasion or the thieves after the timeskip? None of this is treated as the horrific circumstance it is, so it ends up as fridge horror you think about at 2 a.m.

Thinking about how the war affects the common people and civilians isn't the main priority in any of 3H's routes as far as I can remember, since it's just lumped in with the vague "too much bloodshed, doesn't war suck" aesop. We never dive into the specifics of why war sucks in 3H because doing that has the potential for the player to materially feel bad about what they're doing, so instead we always have a cushion to assuage our feelings in by being reminded that Byleth (the player) is the pinnacle of good and always knows the right thing to do in the end. Which is shallow, vapid, and utterly spineless in a simulation game series about war.

A lot of this is fueled by my anti-3H though, so I'm very willing to take corrections on things I flat out get wrong, I haven't played that game to completion in like a over a year, so the details are finally getting hazy.

[chimerafflesia]

re-maxed out yugo and yuri on duel links and finally maxed out ruri :D these three have my favorite decks to play so I'm happy I finally leveled them all :) I'm working on serena and rin next :3

[dykeomania]

i don't really mean to ruin your day, but like (not proofread),

made sleepy by unforgiving winters and a population of people who were only young, once, the carnival reminds modern!ellie’s small wyoming town of what it’s like to be youthful, and alive.

tellingly so, people in her town consider this the happiest event of the year. but if it’s just between ellie and god, the significance of multicolored fair rides or the sun beaming hard enough to scorch the morning dew off of joel’s front lawn faces no match against the hatchling of your smile, once made dormant under the hazy coat of november through april, and defrosted by the month of july.

it’s the 4th. and amongst a spectacular of beams and fireworks slashing through a sky made thick with clouds, ellie swears that tonight she will kiss the girl of her daydreams. 

she has also sworn this, for the past three summers.

for the past three summers, she has ridden the same rides with you in almost identical order – familiar of every trough, and yet screaming with you through every loop. you take the same edibles, and you get the same order of fried concoctions, from the same stand and share the same $7 lemonade, from the same cup and the same swirly straw. 

it’s the same saccharine fling, bubble-wrapped in infatuation, and spared the harm of teeth sinking into its flesh in fear of eviscerating the bond that lies underneath.

but she swears, she will kiss you. this time, she will. she swears, she will.

with tongues coated with carbs and a mind made dizzy with sugar, you make the decision to ride the ferris wheel. she buries herself in the brash cackle of your laugh as she nearly rocks the cart off of its hinges. as you settle, belly and chest full of brightness, ellie watches you. your back is slumped against the metal, your head is thrown, and a hand is splayed over your stomach. the neons of the park flicker and change as you the two of you pass through them. ellie watches as they paint your body, electric; this way, she can see the symptoms of summer, highlighted, right on your cheekbones. beaming brightly, adding a shimmer to your smile, like a sparkle on a wink. ellie always has a tendency of falling in love with girls who are nothing like her. in the summer, ellie just burns. but not you. you have always glowed. 

the fireworks break through the sky, booming through the city like miniature cannons. the only unpredictable thing of all this, is the show. pop, a red firework. pop, a green one. pop, pop, sizzle. this one, a cluster of both.

boom. 

the familiar crust of a hill climbs up ellie’s throat and it’s an act of strength to swallow it all down. “wow,” she hears you remark, completely airless, a loopy grin stretching across your lips. “that’s so pretty.”

ellie nods, damning the fireworks and instead only looking at you. “yeah..” ellie swallows, again, hearing the croak that lines her own voice. “well, you’re pretty, too.”

there’s a silence that hangs, like your eyes, onto hers. and then it’s broken -- shattered not by combustion, but by a giggle turned spitting cackle, tumbling uncontrollably from your lips.

ellie’s furrows her eyebrows, “are you.. are you okay?” and starts laughing with you, only half-nervous, but like���

sizzle, sizzle,

“no.. no.. well– like yeah. like, no, yeah i’m just..” you lick your lips, close your eyes,

grin, and shake your head,

“i’m just really glad that you’re my friend.” 

boom.

the firework burns and dies in the iris of ellie’s eye, and brings with it ellie’s reminder to blink. or to do anything, really.

ellie has a tendency of falling in love with girls who are completely different from her. who want different things, and go at different paces,

who are her best friends.

she smiles. tight.

“yeah..” ellie concludes. “yeah, me too.”

she holds your hand on top of her lap, and halfheartedly thumbs over your knuckles. she lets you slot your fingers into hers, the same as you always do. and she squeezes, like normal. lets you rest your head on her shoulder, and rests her forehead atop of yours, like usual.

pop. pop. pop.

this year, she chalks her excuse up to.. loitering in opportunity. wading in questions she knows the answer to.

sizzle. sizzle. sizzle.

maybe, she’ll try again next summer. 

pop,

or maybe, it’s better that she doesn’t.

sizzle.

[cheekblush]

SCREAM there are rumors being spread about me at work that i have smth going on with a colleague of mine 😭😭😭😭

[heartsofminds]

my parents have been at my apartment all of three seconds and i already feel the effects of the eldest daughter penetrating my brain and ruining this entire weekend. . .somebody SEDATE me please! i’m BEGGING!!!!

[drysauce]

went on a walk to the nearby park and ngl i think this can fix me

[wellthatschaotic]

coworker (derogatory)

[cloudshapedpatch]

i really want to tell my best friend i’m in love with her but she’s very vocal about how frustrated it makes her when all her friends inevitably confess their love for her

[ziracona]

I’m actually I think maybe more mad about the treatment Ethan got in that film. People talking about him like he’s James Bond and I will not stand for it. He’s never disrespected or diminished a female agent and he’s NEVER let a GF die not even in MI2 which was so bad it was retconned (unless I guess you count MI OG?? Like I wouldn’t but). He’s just nice. Benji has played damsel in distress more than anyone in the series. Furious they would even TRY to paint him that way.