#I’ve just been having a lot of thoughts about this lately

[honourablejester]

I’m going to respond to this directly, since I’m one of the ones it’s aimed at, but I understand if OP doesn’t have the spoons for direct conversation. This is just running into several related things I’ve been seeing a lot lately, so I’m going to explore this a little.

Fantasy, Religion, War, Genre Conventions, and Portrayal as Endorsement.

So the thesis here is that the crusades should not be portrayed as a good thing. And what I want to know here is what specifically we mean by that.

Why were the real world crusades bad? And this is not some kind of gotcha question, I’m not claiming they weren’t, I’m asking why specifically. They were a series of religiously inspired wars of conquest that involved invading and occupying foreign territories.

Is the issue here ‘war of conquest’? Or is the issue here ‘religiously inspired war’?

Because the specific example in Pathfinder can be argued as a war of defense, in the sense that an army of demons had actually invaded and conquered one country and were looking to expand from there. Now, granted, the country invaded wasn’t the crusaders’ country, at least not the majority of them. This was pre-emptive defense where a foreign army basically occupied one country and walled off another to prevent a second foreign army from using them as staging grounds to invade further. So there is a native country stuck in the middle getting shat on by everybody, which was true of the Holy Land of the real world crusades as well. But if there is a genuine threat, is it wrong to go to war with them? At what specific point does a war stop being justified? (Or, alternately, at what specific point does a war start being justified)? Is the issue here the concept of war?

Or. Since the impression I’m getting is that the issue is the choice of demons, an objectively evil enemy that it is morally correct to fight, as the opponents of said war, is the issue that it’s a religious war? And in that case … Is the issue the portrayal of religion as objectively correct?

What I’m saying is, are we approaching this from an atheist standpoint? While we’re talking about the assumptions baked into our narratives. Is the assumption here that the historical real life crusades were wrong because religion is false and never a justification for war or anything else that would damage another person, and that therefore any portrayal of a religious war as something the heroes might morally take part in is objectively wrong?

Because. Fantasy as a genre. Assumptions, genre conventions of fantasy as a genre. Not universally, but quite often. Magic is real. Gods are real. Supernatural threats are real. If we have those as a baseline of the genre, how do we marry those concerns?

If a supernatural threat does exist, one that is inimical to other life, one that genuinely wants to destroy everything before it, and that supernatural threat is currently attacking, is it morally wrong to go to war with said threat? If you have an another supernatural ally, one that is the enemy of the thing trying to destroy you, is it morally wrong to listen to them? Is it morally wrong to believe in and follow a god if gods are demonstrably real things?

Now. Pulling back slightly, I fully understand that the terms are loaded. Gods, demons, crusades. These are real world words that had often horrific real world consequences. Blood libel, zealotry, genocide. Calling an enemy force ‘demons’ so that you can justify wiping them out has had real world consequences. Historically, the crusaders weren’t fighting actual demons, but people.

So is the issue here calling the fantasy war a crusade while swapping the portrayed enemy from people to an actual demonic foe, and thereby … justifying the real crusades the same way? They thought the enemy were demons, and demons are correct to fight, so actually the real crusades were justified?

The thing is, though, that we know that the enemies the real crusaders fought weren’t demons. The audience knows. (And the parts of the audience that don’t aren’t the part that are going to be critically examining much of anything).

The narrative is not real life. The narrative is operating on certain specific assumptions that, particularly in the case of fantasy as a genre, are held up as impossible in real life. (Whether they’re right to be or not, there is a particularly atheistic, Enlightenment, ‘we’ve progressed beyond such silly superstitions and beliefs’ sort of stripe in the Western approach to fantasy). Demons are a fantasy thing.

And a religious one. Which, yes, is where the danger lies.

So what I’m asking here is … What do you mean when you say ‘fantasy thinks the crusades were good’? Do you just mean that fantasy operates in a world where demons are real, and that makes fantasy automatically wrong? Is the basic premise of a heroic ‘good’ force fighting a supernatural ‘evil’ force just automatically wrong?

And again, I want to clarify that I do get it. The alignment system, creating a fantasy race or species of beings specifically to be your villains and specifically so that it’s okay to kill them. An enemy that you don’t have to agonise whether you have a moral right to kill, because they are inherently, on a molecular level, just … made of evil. That desire in and of itself is problematic.

But. The thing is. That desire also inherently indicates that the writer knows people can’t provide that. If a writer has to make up an explicitly supernatural foe to serve as their fantasy punching bag, it’s because they’re aware that their audience (or at least hopefully most of their audience) know that humans at least are not inherently evil and morally okay to slaughter.

(The question of other fantasy races created to be punching bags is a different one, the orcs, goblins, drow, etc, because those are explicitly meant to be people bred or damned to act a certain way, which goes different directions, but honestly I think demons are actually less fraught, here, because they are explicitly supernatural, a direct force of embodied evil. Which does then get complicated when you then go back and go ‘no, they’re actually people too’, but eh. This gets messy no matter which way you slice it, unfortunately).

So is the desire to fight an uncomplicated enemy and feel righteous doing so just the basic problem? Because I feel we’re veering there into ‘video games make people violent’ sort of territory. The desire to do something in a game in a fantasy environment that you are conscious is not real is not the same as wanting to actually beat someone to death for being different in real life. And even if it is, the desire to seek out a fantasy means of satiating that desire instead of a real life one is, I would argue, a very good sign. Thought police again. Desires aren’t the problem, actions are.

And, well. A lot of people have the desire to just, for once, know for sure where the evil comes from, to see it given a form, and to be able to directly fight that form. That’s just a thing that happens in the bewildering landscape of today’s increasingly stressful world.

There’s just. There’s a bundle of closely linked potential issues in here that don’t all point in the same directions. It’s a very broad statement, ‘fantasy thinks the crusades are basically good’. Potential elements of that:

Fantasy often uses metaphysical concepts like ‘good’ and ‘evil’ as physical, concrete realities, with all the potential loss of nuance that entails.

Fantasy posits a world where traditionally religious elements such as souls, spirits, demons, gods, sin, etc are physically real, which interacts in very messy ways with the history of religion in our world (as well as with current religion in our world).

Heroic fantasy often automatically creates a value judgement of certain violent activities (quests, war, combat, dragon slaying) as ‘righteous’ based mostly on the fact that it’s the hero doing said activities, and either doesn’t examine that value judgement or causes a lot of (sometimes) unintentional implications while trying to justify it.

When a fantasy narrative using the conventions of the genre (evil as a tactile force, heroes as morally justified, violence as the vehicle of righteousness) borrows terminology from real, significantly more dangerous and nuanced real world events, there is a potentially dangerous resonance where the fantasy narrative is (purposefully or otherwise) being read as an interpretation and endorsement of the historical event.

On the flipside, however:

Fantasy as a genre (whether rightly or otherwise) is specifically highlighted as unreal, as divorced from reality.

The conventions of any narrative genre tend to interact very messily with the significantly more complicated real world. (Heroic war movies, unrealistic or unhealthy relationships in romance novels, etc).

The use or deliberate avoidance of specific terminology within fiction is its own thorny issue, and especially in fantasy given its interesting history of allegory and thinly veiled disguises. Just not using the word doesn’t automatically fix the issue.

Which is not to say that fantasy shouldn’t be examined and criticised and questioned! But. I want a bit more specificity than blanket statements like ‘fantasy thinks such-a-clearly-wrong-thing is good’.

Because. Does fantasy think the real world crusades were good? That likely depends on the writer. Does fantasy create a fictional world where fictional crusades are good? Yes, sometimes it has done. Is fantasy wrong to do so? It depends on the execution.

Because fantasy posits a world where supernatural forces are real, and in such a world, is it wrong to fight such forces if they threaten you? And does fantasy coming to the conclusion that in a world where such things are true, it is right to fight them, does that then mean that fantasy believes that a) such things are true in the real world, and b) such violent actions can be justified on that basis in the real world? Again, it depends on the execution. Because fantasy, as we are told so very often, is not reality, and when we’re judging fantasy (and any fictional narrative), we’re interpreting it both within its own universe, and on how it interacts with our universe.

And, again, going back to that specific example. Paizo, Pathfinder, and the Mendevian Crusades. Pathfinder is carrying a lot of baggage from the history of D&D, the alignment system, the concrete physical realities of good and evil and all the buggy and messy and wrongheaded ways its been implemented. Could they do better, absolutely. But. These specific crusades, as I mentioned before, were portrayed as incredibly flawed, politically and morally messy, and were shown devolving into mindless persecution and opportunism several times. Which means that, in a world where the enemy was objectively evil, where a real and genuine god had mandated the fight against them, and where the survival of the world depended on holding the tide back, the crusade was still shown as complicated and messy and wrongheaded and as harsh on the afflicted people as the demonic invasion itself. There are good demon characters within the narrative. There are intelligent demon characters within the narrative. There are evil crusaders within the narrative. So yes, I’m going to give Paizo some credit here, for interacting with the concept with nuance even with certain fantasy conventions in place.

And again, said fantasy conventions are not inherently wrong in-and-of themselves. Is it wrong to interact with the concept of physical gods? With a physical, supernatural manifestation of dark concepts? If we create a narrative in which evil is given a physical body for us to fight, is that an inherent sign of weakness?

I suppose the other part of what I’m asking, here, is what the solution is. Like. Are we not to interact with these concepts? Is fantasy as a genre inherently wrong for having these concepts as genre conventions?

When you say, fantasy thinks the crusades were good, what is the opposite of that? What is the thing you want to see? Are we getting rid of the supernatural as a genuine force? Are we getting rid of tying inherent morality to supernatural forces (which I can definitely see the argument for, and which to be fair, people are currently struggling with attempting in the genre, and the ttrpg expression of the genre)? Are we dumping the whole concept of the heroic struggle? Are we, say, removing heroic and high fantasy as genres and going exclusively for low/grimdark fantasy?

I realise that this is a very specific example, of how D&D-inspired ttrpg fantasy interacts with the specific concept of religious wars, but as I said this is bumping into a lot of related questions I’ve seen floating around recently. Morality of war, morality of religion, portrayal vs endorsement, morality of violent games, purity culture, etc.

And I am curious, I guess. How do you think a setting with the specific fantasy conventions of pathfinder/d&d, in this case specifically that gods are real and that good and evil can be physically embodied to threaten people, should interact with the concept of a holy war? Just avoid the issue altogether?

Because honestly I think it’s on the audience to draw the conclusion that since the Islamic forces were not actual demons in our world, we’re not going to judge the historical crusades by the same metrics that we judge a fictional world where the enemy literally was an embodied chunk of elemental evil. You know? What might be an understandable and moral course of action in a fantasy world where literal embodied evil trying to destroy the world is a threat you might actually have to face isn’t necessarily a moral and understandable course of action in our world, where things are unfortunately significantly more complicated than that.

I’m not sure if I’m still talking past you, but I figured I’d get my ramble in anyway.

kind of concerning how married the fantasy genre is to "crusades as a basically good thing"

[suunani]

remembrance ( johnny suh )

▍ it’s been weeks since johnny last saw you, and he can’t wait to see you again.

content : 2.1k words, male reader, established relationship, lot of memories (written in italics), angst, hurt / comfort, soft & domestic moments, requested here!

johnny adjusted the bouquet of white tulips in his hands, his fingers curling slightly around the stems as he walked, his pace slow but steady.

the cold air nipped at his cheeks, but he barely noticed. he was focused on the flowers, their delicate petals soft beneath his touch. he wanted them to be perfect. it was the least he could do, even if it didn’t feel like enough.

the past month had been a blur — rehearsals, travel, late-night recordings, a schedule that seemed to have no end. johnny hated it. he hated how time slipped away from him, how the days seemed to vanish before he could catch his breath.

he hadn’t seen you in weeks. the guilt gnawed at him, gnawing at his insides like a constant reminder that he hadn’t been there for you the way he wanted to. the last time he had held you, kissed you, told you he loved you, it felt like a lifetime ago. too long.

johnny glanced at the tulips in his hands again. you had always loved white tulips — peace and remembrance, you’d said.

he didn’t know why he remembered that now, but the thought of it made him pause for a moment. he could almost hear your voice, your gentle laugh when you’d first told him, the way you’d talked about flowers like they had their own language.

you had always had a way with words.

“if you could have any superpower, what would it be?”

johnny chuckled, rolling over to face you on the couch. the two of you were curled up in a blanket, just passing the time in a comfortable silence.

you’d tilted your head, an eyebrow arched as you glanced at him. “come on, don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

“of course i’ve thought about it,” he replied, laughing. “but if i’m being honest, i don’t know what i’d pick. maybe… invisibility? i could sneak up on you and surprise you when you least expect it.”

you smiled and shook your head, clearly not impressed. “that’s just sneaky.”

“exactly,” johnny grinned. “and you know how much i love surprising you.”

you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “i’m still not sure how i feel about being sneaked up on all the time.”

“well, too bad,” johnny teased, leaning closer. “now that i’ve got invisibility, you’re stuck with me.”

you didn’t resist, instead reaching over to tug him closer with a quiet laugh.

“what about you?” johnny asked after a beat, gently squeezing your hand. “what would you pick?”

you didn’t hesitate.

“i’d want to time travel,” you said, eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and something deeper. “imagine all the places i could go, the things i could see. i could relive moments i’ve missed, change little mistakes. i could even meet people from the past and see how they lived.”

johnny smiled softly at your enthusiasm. “what would you do with all that power?”

you paused for a moment, looking almost wistful.

“i don’t know. maybe i’d go back to my favorite days. or forward… to see the future.” your voice softened. “maybe i’d even go back to when you and i first met. i’d want to remember it all over again.”

johnny’s breath caught in his throat as he walked, the weight of your words settling on him. the memory of that conversation, of your excitement about the idea of time travel, was more vivid than he’d expected.

he couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing.

what if he could really go back? what if he could relive those early days, hold onto every moment and never let go? but time didn’t work that way.

time kept moving, never stopping for anyone. it moved without care, without mercy.

his hand tightened around the tulips.

the ache in his chest grew. he wished he could just freeze everything, stay in those moments where you laughed with him, where things were simple, where you were right next to him.

“babe, i swear to god, if you fall—”

“i won’t fall,” johnny called down, balancing precariously on a barstool as he attempted to hang the fairy lights you had insisted would make the apartment feel cozier.

from your spot on the floor, arms crossed, you gave him a deeply skeptical look. “i don’t trust you.”

johnny scoffed, reaching up to secure another hook on the wall. “wow. where’s the faith?”

“you lost it when you fell off the couch last week trying to change a lightbulb.”

“that was different.”

“how?”

“…it just was.”

you raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “huh. just finish hanging them up before i have to call 911.”

johnny smirked, eyes still on his task. “relax baby. i got this.”

and then, right on cue, the stool wobbled.

before he could react, gravity took over. his arms flailed, the fairy lights tangling in his hands as he went down with a loud thud.

silence. then—

“…baby, i think i saw my life flash before my eyes.”

you stood over him, biting your lip, trying (and failing) to suppress your laughter. johnny groaned dramatically, sprawled out on the floor with the lights draped over him like some kind of tangled christmas decoration.

“don’t laugh. this is a serious injury.”

“you landed on a pillow.”

“it hurts.”

you rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. instead, you sank down beside him, resting your head on his chest. his heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, his breathing slowing as the initial shock faded.

“you’re an idiot,” you murmured fondly.

johnny grinned, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer. “mhh, but you love me anyway.”

you sighed, your voice softer now. “yeah… i do.”

johnny’s throat tightened as he walked, the memory wrapping around him like a familiar embrace.

it had been one of those ordinary moments, one of those insignificant nights that didn’t feel all that important at the time. but now, it was everything.

it was funny, how memories worked.

the big milestones, the grand gestures. those faded first. but the little things? the teasing, the stolen glances, the way you fit so perfectly against him when you curled into his side. those were the ones that stayed.

the ones that haunted him.

he let out a shaky breath, forcing himself to keep moving.

it had started as a joke, just a silly moment.

you’d stolen one of johnny’s rings, slipping it onto your own finger with a dramatic flourish, holding out your hand like a queen expecting her crown.

“i think this suits me, don’t you?” you’d teased, tilting your head as you admired the way the bright metal caught the light.

johnny had rolled his eyes, laughter bubbling up from deep within him. “i think you just want to marry me.”

you smiled. “maybe i do.”

the playful banter had made him laugh then, but later, when the apartment had quieted and the lights had dimmed, he found himself lying awake beside you, staring at your hand.

the ring still sat on your finger, loose but not falling off, the sight of it stirring something deep in his chest.

he had thought about it before, in passing. marriage. forever. but something about that night made the idea feel real, tangible.

he could see it so clearly — standing in front of you, his heart pounding as he slipped a real ring onto your finger. he could hear your breath hitch, picture the way your eyes would widen before softening into that smile that always undid him.

it was terrifying.

it was exhilarating.

it was just another dream that would never come true.

a dream that had once felt so close, so real, like something he could reach out and grasp if only he tried hard enough.

but now, it was just a cruel mirage, something that taunted him in his sleep and left him gasping for air when he woke up alone.

johnny looked up, and his heart clenched.

he was here.

the cemetery stretched before him, vast and still, the kind of quiet that wasn’t peaceful but suffocating. the kind of silence that pressed down on his chest, making it harder to breathe with each step forward.

his legs felt like lead as he took those final, dreaded steps toward your grave. he didn’t need to look for it — his body already knew the way. muscle memory had betrayed him, guiding him here like a path he had walked a thousand times before.

he hated this.

he hated how familiar this walk had become, how routine it was now to bring you flowers instead of taking you out to dinner. hated how, instead of texting you to say i’m on my way, he was standing here, staring down at your name etched into cold, unfeeling stone.

it wasn’t fair. none of this was fair.

his fingers trembled slightly as he knelt down, carefully placing the white tulips at the base of the headstone. he smoothed his palm over the petals, as if trying to fix something, as if trying to make them perfect — because that was the least he could do for you now.

then, slowly, his hand reached for the stone. his fingertips traced over the carved letters of your name, and the moment they made contact, a fresh wave of grief crashed over him. his vision blurred, but he refused to close his eyes. if he did, he’d see you too clearly.

and right now, he wasn’t sure he could handle that.

“hello, my love,” he whispered, his voice barely more than breath. “i couldn’t come earlier. i’m truly sorry.”

the wind rustled the trees above him, a soft, almost gentle sound — the only response to his words.

a quiet, bitter laugh escaped him as he shook his head. “i brought you flowers again.”

a single tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it, landing on the cold stone below. he wiped at his face with the back of his hand, but it didn’t matter.

there would always be more tears.

“i know you’d tell me not to cry,” he murmured. his voice cracked, uneven. “that it’s okay. that you’d wait for me, no matter how long it took.”

his hands curled into fists on his lap. he let out a shaky breath, his chest tight, his throat burning.

“but it’s not fair,” he whispered. “it’s not okay. i was supposed to have more time with you.”

more mornings waking up next to you, sunlight spilling through the curtains as you sleepily reached for him. more lazy afternoons spent curled up on the couch, talking about nothing and everything all at once. more laughter, more kisses, more nights tangled up in each other under the covers.

more everything.

but instead, all he had were memories that felt more like ghosts, lingering in the corners of his mind, haunting him in ways he never thought possible.

he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. “i still don’t know how to do this without you.”

johnny sat there for a long time, his fingers resting against the stone, his heart heavy in his chest. the world kept moving around him, but he stayed still, unwilling to leave just yet.

eventually, he sighed, tilting his head back to look at the sky. the clouds had shifted, revealing a sliver of blue. it was a small thing, barely noticeable. but it was something.

maybe you were up there somewhere, watching him, waiting for him. maybe you were still with him, in ways he couldn’t understand.

he wanted to believe that.

he needed to believe that.

johnny pressed a soft kiss to his fingers before touching them to your name.

“i love you,” he whispered. “i’ll see you soon, okay?”

he stood slowly, his legs unsteady beneath him, his body reluctant to leave but his heart knowing he had to.

with one last glance, he turned and walked away.

it was a long walk back home, but it would be the only place he’d ever feel your presence again.

[humpster35]

Matt, Please

This smut includes: unprotected rough sex, pussy eating, angst, loss of virginity, daddy kink, asshole Matt (if you squint) slight baby trapping and praising.

It was a late night, nothing was like this feeling i’ve felt in this moment. Matt and I have been together for awhile now and we haven’t had sex. “Matt….why are you doing that?” I laughed watching as Matt fixed his desk rapidly, he moved in a funny way. “I’m trying to make this aesthetic for you, I know you like when things are neat and pleasing to look at. I mean(he poses showing a cheeky smile) you ARE dating me.” This asshole. I thought as I shook my head. The bed creaked as he sat down, he wore a black shirt, sweatpants, a necklace and his hair was left messily hot after gaming all day. “Matthew you ARE quite sexy…maybe I should reward you.” I shrugged while smiling.

Silence. It filled the room up as if it could envelop me whole and leave nothing behind. Oh shit…I was a virgin wasn’t i? “Matt wait i’m sorry i-“ He got up quickly. “Why do you have to do that Y/n? We haven’t fucked ever. You keep teasing me but whenever it’s time to actually do something about it you bail on me.” “I don’t bail on you- I just..I just” “Can’t commit to anything?” Feeling insulted by his words I get up and begin removing my top. I’ve always been the more naive one of the group, being friends with the triplets and moving to La to film with them i’ve come across a lot of much more experienced people. It’s silly i know but, in my head I though that if i didn’t tell Matt about my virginity then things would just remain the same between us…after all guys do act differently once they find out. I looked at Matt when my top completely comes off, my white lace bra visible. You’re not like that…are you Matt? “What are you just standing there for? Why even remove your shirt if we’re just gonna cuddle?” Matt shrugged as he laud down on the bed and rested his arms behind his head. “I wanna—no I can do it. I’ll have sex with you.”

Matt stared at my face intently, was he studying me? He stood up and took off his black shirt. I watched as his tattoos were painted on his left arm…he was so fucking hot. “We gonna fuck hm?” Matt said mockingly. “If i’m gonna fuck you then i’m gonna need you to promise me something.” Puzzled my face looked up at him while he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to his body, it felt as if any closer and we would become one. “Matt don’t be a dick okay? I said we can have sex so stop mocking me.” He chuckled. “Promise me you won’t make any noise.” Confused I looked at him before getting close to his face and kissing him. “I….I promise.” Matt chuckled and tucked of strand behind my ear. “I’m not mocking you darling..hm? I just wanted this for awhile now…are you sure you’re ready?” I moaned softly as his soft pink lips placed butterfly kisses along my jawline to my neck, his hand roamed further down to my crotch. “it feels good Matt…can i have more?” Matt chuckled a bit as he lifted his head up, staring into my eyes he smiled before kissing my plump lips. “Come on, let me take care of you.” He lifted me up by my waist making me throw legs around him. “Let daddy take care of you hm?” “O-okay daddy.” I watched as Matt started laughing, his face turning red. “Why’d you say it like that? Are you embarrassed?” “Shutup I am not embarrassed-.” “I think you are(Matt laughed even harder into my shoulder while he stood between my legs.) Have you not called anyone daddy before?” I shook my head no embarrassed. “Awww shhh shh it’s okay baby…you don’t have to ever be embarrassed mmkay?” Matt pulled my pants off slowly, I studied his actions anxiously. Next was my underwear, he slid those to the side before he stopped and looked at me. “Daddy will always take care of you.”

Matt pull his dick out of his boxers. “Woah.” was all I could say as I watched the long and slightly dick bounce against his chest for a second due to Matt’s sudden movement. “Woah?” Matt laughed, he started stroking himself while looking down at my pussy. “Yea…Yeaaaaa that’ll do hm?” I moaned softly feeling him rub his tip on my clit. Before I could even warn Matt that I was a virgin he slammed into me causing me to moan loudly and grip his shoulders. “fuckkkkk ouhhhhh shit you’re fucking tight.” Matt moaned while he let go of his dick and rested his hands on my hips getting ready to fuck me. “m-matt wa-wait…mmmm” I couldn’t get out any words due to his size and pain. It hurt but felt good, i’ve had his fingers inside of me before but this. This was much different, more bigger and much deeper. THRUST THRUST THRUST THRUST THRUST. Back to back Matt was fucking me hard on his gaming desk, I watched him with half open eyelids throwing my head back. “ah ah ahhhhhhh Mattyyyy please I can’t..” “hm? speak up.” Matt was so arrogant at times, even now that he’s fucking me he wants to taunt me. I gripped his shoulders hard causing him to bleed. Matt started fucking into me extremely rough and hard as he gripped my ass for support. “MATTTTTTT AHHHHHHHH” “FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKKKKKK OH FUCKING FUCKKK.” Matt screamed in ecstasy as he bit his lip hard. “mmm ouhhh yeaaaa baby fuckkkk right there for daddy yes yes yes yes.” My tits bounced aggressively through my bra while i struggled to breathe at this point. This man doesn’t even know im a virgin and he’s fucking me like he hates me. “Matt wait-.” Matt kisses my lips and pulls me closer to his body, in one fast swoop he lifts me off of his desk and transfers me to his bed. “Ah!” “M’gonna fuck you here now baby.”

Without warning Matt again inserted himself into me. This time i had something to hold onto before he started pounding, I grabbed his bedsheets while he threw his head back. “Fuck I haven’t pussy in awhile…” I bit down hard on my teeth trying to hold in any sound I was making. Clearly Matt also forgot about his so called “promise” because once he lifted my legs on his shoulders to get a deeper angle he started moaning loudly. “AHHHH OHHHHH Y/N Y/N IM SO FUCKINF CLOSE…i’m so close imsoclose imclose.” THRUST THRUSTTHRUSTTHRUST. I let out mewls and mewls of moans loudly as Matt started biting my neck slightly, every move he made I felt him knock my cervix back by like two inches. It was so painful…but it hurt so good. “Matt wait..pleasepleaseplease wait-.” “Shut. THRUST. the. THRUST. fuck. THRUST up.” THRUST. My legs started shaking around his shoulders, the bed creaked loudly and he was pounding into me so hard that I felt myself being pushed into the back of the headboard. “M’gonna cummmmmm” “ahhhhouuhhh yes yes baby i’m gonna fucking cum in you.” What. Did he just say he was gonna cum in me-.

I felt Matt’s long fingers begin to rapidly rub my clit, he stopped for a moment and stuck them into my mouth. “Spit on it bitch.” He angrily said and I immediately did what he asked, he took his fingers out of my mouth and begin to rub my pussy again. “OHHHH FUCKKK. MATT aahhhhhhhh-.” “yeaaaaa let’s fucking cum hm? wanna cum together? you wanted to have real sex well here you go—.” Matt made me cum instantly with his aggressive tone and his long fingers, My legs continued to shake while he pounded deeply into me and he didn’t stop rubbing my pussy. “S-stop please…” My small hand tried to push his much larger one away weakly due to my body being spent. It was getting overwhelming and overstimulating. “Matt, Please.” He stopped and looked at me, “Okay. okay baby.” Matt gently kissed me before he hurried and started thrusting deeper to get his own orgasm. THRUST THRUST THRUST THRUST. “ohhhh i’m gonna cum..IM GONNA FUCKINF CUM IN YOU AHHHHH.” “NOOO AHHHHH.” We both let out loud screams of moans as Matt came deep inside of me. I tried to push at his chest to get him to pull out, “Matt please I don’t wanna be a momma.” Matt chuckled and shushed me. “Shhh shhh baby, it’s okay hm? daddy’s got you.” I started crying out of frustration and overstimulation while Matt gently kissed everywhere on my face and neck. “I fucking hate you Matt…..” Matt pulled out of me as his dick made a wet pop sound and I immediately closed my legs. “I know….but i’ll always love you.” My breath hitched as he wiped my tears, he picked me up and took me to the bathroom to clean me up.

tag list: @hjvi

[ww2yaoi]

as of today, february 2nd, ww2yaoi turns one year old! I initially made this blog to promote my mota fic (which I thought absolutely no one would read) so the first thing I ever posted here was a link to my second clegan fic I wrote. that post got 3 notes (maybe even less at the time) but that fic is now my most popular ever at over 1k+ kudos on ao3!!! just goes to show you never know what's gonna happen...

this year has been a rollercoaster in terms of my interests. going from mota/clegan mania in the first part of the year to my insane web(gott) breakthrough around april when I read parachute infantry for the first time. then these last few months I've been so pacific pilled it's not even funny (sidsledge nation there are dozens of us!! dozens!!!). from the spring to the end of the summer I wrote about 90k of unreleased webgott fic then eventually started posting some other stuff on ao3 again (thank you for your support as always <3333) and although I've been on a bit of a fic posting hiatus lately, there are things in the works... trust

to celebrate my blog's bday, I thought I'd highlight some of my fave things I've made for this blog over the past year. because I have made A LOT of bullshit. this blog has been a passion project of mine and a great creative outlet. even if it's lowkey kind of stupid it takes a lot of effort and love to be this stupid :P here we go...

my fave edits I’ve made: joespresso, this artifact of ron livingston summer, uptown webgott, supercut webgott, winnix lovesickness, sidsledge pop girlie extravaganza, all-american b(ucky)itch

my fave fics I've written (not exactly blog content but my fic is the whole reason this blog exists): buck and bucky paint the town red, welcome to the stalag bozo, joe liebgott in peach lingerie, smooch stained webster, everything is better in the spring :)

my fave posts I’ve made: my web weaves, my webgott wednesday meme dumps, my beautiful wife home safely :), who's the other guy?, that one coworker that's just gotta go, his german's as good as mine, webgott as the five love languages, i suck dick loud as hell and also the entire invention of webgott wednesday

anyways, if you've ever interacted with any of my posts, sent me an ask, reblogged an edit, commented on a fic, left funny tags on a meme, messaged me about these shows, etc. THANK YOU!!! you make blogging on here fun and you will have a piece of my heart forever :) I am so grateful to the friends I've made on here (you know who you are I'm sure) and really there's nothing I like more than analyzing our fave ww2 vets like bugs in the dms

here's to another year of nonsense!!!!! <3

- meg aka ww2yaoi :^)

[dekariosclan]

I had a thought about Gales reaction to/feelings about stretch marks on his partner. Not ones from pregnancy (I personally feel those are kind of different. I have a lot of them just from fast weight gain, and even after losing that weight seeing them seems to only remind me of my shame that I ever let myself go that much).

I feel like I already know the answer - he is so loving, and so truly does not care about physical “imperfections” on his loved one or things that may be outside whatever beauty standards apply in his world. If he knew his partner was insecure about them, he’d likely go out of his way to make them feel better about them. But I’m still curious how you would describe his thoughts on them, if that makes sense. Would he even notice them? What would they represent to him, if he knew they were from a time his partner was neglecting their health (or even being very lazy)?

I hope this isn’t a nonsensical ramble. I think I’ve lately found myself trying to change my own negative perceptions of myself by thinking through the lens of what Gale would see, so asking an expert like yourself for your take might help me get there on this topic <3

Not nonsensical at all anon! 💜 And I love your idea of thinking through the lens of what Gale would see—the world would be a much kinder (and chattier!) place if everyone did so.

Your thoughts about Gale’s response to his partner’s insecurities are spot-on. But he’d also want to reassure them (and you!) that there is nothing shameful about the fact that their body changed shape or appearance. He would hush any disparaging comments about ‘letting oneself go’ or ‘being very lazy’. He’d be very, very proud that his love was no longer neglecting their health, but he would not apply any shame or negativity to their bodily appearance, either in the past or in their present condition.

I honestly think a lot of people struggle to understand Gale’s way of thinking because we have been-force fed toxic beauty bullsh*t for our entire lives. By our society’s beauty standards, Gale is hot. And Gale had a hot Goddess girlfriend; therefore how could Gale love a non-hot person? I’ve seen countless posts about Mystra being his ex and how ‘my Tav could never compare.’ But we’re the ones who have it all wrong; in Gale’s eyes, when he falls in love with Tav, it’s Mystra who can no longer compare.

So I’ve come to think of it like this: we all know Gale loves and treasures books, right? If you try and destroy the Necromancy book, he gets mad. He geeks out thinking about shopping at Sorcerous Sundries. He has a massive overflowing library in his home in Waterdeep. In short, he absolutely adores, respects and reveres stories. And I think, when Gale looks at others, and especially at his beloved Tav, what he sees and values first and foremost is their story—because that’s what defines who they are. Gale doesn’t judge a book by its cover, he judges it by the quality of the writing.

So, to answer your question about how he would react to Tav’s stretch marks, and whether he would notice them, and what they would represent, I believe he would simply see them for what they are: A physical representation of a chapter in Tav’s life. Not an imperfection, not something shameful, but an experience that, like all the other chapters in Tav’s life, helped shape them into the wonderful person that Gale loves today. An experience that helped to write Tav’s story.

And in his eyes, what could be more beautiful than that?

[pupyuj]

baby daddy gaeul thoughts? :)

omg anon i was just gonna link you this old baby daddy ive drabble i did but i realized there's literally nothing much for gaeul there so now we out here‼️‼️‼️

idek how nasty i can get with this since i stated in my last baby daddy ive drabble that gaeul’s just really fucking sweet 😭💕 like truly!!!! taking care of you day and night throughout your whole pregnancy and when the baby’s here, she just gets even better! 🥺💓 she becomes a hundred times more attractive to you while she does the whole parent stuff… it warms your heart every time you wake up in the morning and you see her by the window holding your kid in her arms and singing them a soft melody.. but really also makes you think that wow.. you reallyyyy scored the jackpot huh 😛😛

ofc the two of you would act appropriately when the kid’s around but once they’re grown enough to be away from home for daycare or something??? oh trusttt that you and gaeul revert back to your young adult selves where you just can’t keep your hands off each other 😵‍💫 gaeul would come back in the house from taking your kid to school and she would see you making a little mid-morning snack and she just can’t help herself seeing you in your nightgown and apron 🤤🤤

don’t be surprised when gaeul inevitably presses up against you from behind while you’re slightly bent over the kitchen island as you ate your snack! 🤭 you could be talking to a friend over the phone too… having to bite back a small whine when she palms your ass and tells you to hang up the call.. and ofc you do that bcs what else were you gonna do?? not get fucked?? come on now 😤

first it would just be little kisses on your neck and shoulders, and then she’d have her hand in between your legs from behind and ykw i believe gaeul can be an ass sometimes! teasing you about being so wet, claiming that you probably didn’t change out of that nightgown in hopes of this exact scenario happening… and it was true! 🤭 but you’re not going to allow yourself to be the only one embarrassed here! making a comment about how gaeul’s jeans are near to bursting open bcs of the hard-on that you knew has been there the second she started driving back home to you.. yeah gaeul wasn’t being as slick as she thought she was 🫠🫠

apparently that was the last straw bcs then you’re laying on the couch taking gaeul’s whole cock inside you effortlessly and it felt a lot better when it wasn’t dead in the night and the two of you were trying to be sneaky ��� even gaeul couldn’t keep herself quiet at all, and has she always been so… chatty??

“t-the way you’ve been acting lately is so… f-familiar… mmm.. i’ve been trying to figure it out for d-days and… fuck—i finally know why…! i know what you want, darling…”

“you don’t want to fuck just for the sake of fucking, don’t you…? you want another one…!”

“is that what we’re doing today? hm?? you’re going to take me until we have another baby, huh?”

well when she talked like that… it wasn’t very shocking that you’d come home with amazing news after a visit to a doctor 🫣

[ghostsandfools]

Okay guys. Okay. OKAY.

I just went back and watched a couple of the astral related episodes that have released in the past few months and I have a LOT to say.

I don’t think we realize how messed up the astrals truly are. Like, they seem to have noble goals and all, but oh my goodness.

Okay, lets walk through Lunar’s entire life story real quick:

The first episode of TSAMS came out on March 24, 2022. That was a little less than three years ago now. Let’s just keep that in mind.

When Lunar was created, his entire purpose was to serve Eclipse. I’ll be honest, I’m not too familiar with early TSAMS. I joined the fandom a bit late. But Lunar underwent constant emotional and sometimes physical abuse from Eclipse. He was constantly belittled, made to feel worthless, and in the end, Eclipse killed him in front of somebody he cared about. His entire purpose was to serve Eclipse, and suddenly that purpose had been taken away from him.

Lunar was remade in space, granting him the ability to use star power. Gemini then came down to Earth to evaluate if he was a threat and train him in the ways of star power. In the very first episode they appear in, Castor asks Earth to “please leave Lunar alone and stop talking to him.” Earth obviously refuses, but this interaction is still interesting. It’s strange that their first instinct was to try isolating him from his closest family.

Castor and Pollux began training Lunar and eventually becoming closer with him. Lunar was freaked out at first, and it seems like he didn’t really enjoy his training at first, but eventually it kind of took over his life. Star power was his entire purpose. And when he began to develop feelings for Gemini, it only became a bigger part of his life. His personality and goals for the future revolved completely around star power. It was his new purpose in life.

Lunar messes up a couple of times and begins to fear what will happen if he lets his power get out of control. First he attacks Bloodmoon, then kills Eclipse. Killing Eclipse was the especially interesting event here. Afterwards, Gemini makes it very clear to him how much he’s fucked up. They tell him his life could be on the line, that the other astrals want him DEAD, and they seem to be withholding their affection. They don’t spend as much time with him, saying they’re busy with his court case. Killing someone is a bad thing to do, so it makes sense for Gemini to distance themself, but I think we should remember this.

And then, it just stops. Taurus tells him that if he can’t move on from his trauma with Eclipse, he can’t continue to train.

This is detrimental to him. He doesn’t know what to do without a purpose. Eclipse abused him, but he also gave him something to do. He gave him someone to be. His entire identity was serving Eclipse. And now, he thought he had moved on from that. He had a new purpose now, to serve Gemini, to train as an astral and make everyone proud. And now he’s suddenly being told that he can’t anymore? That if he doesn’t get over his trauma (which is exceptionally difficult to do) he won’t be able to train anymore?

And so he makes a mistake. Another very big mistake. He pursues negative star power, he hurts Earth, he’s temporarily shunned by his family. It’s a big mess, he goes to jail, he’s put on trial.

And do you know what Libra does to punish him? She finds him guilty and takes away his star power.

So… This whole time. This entire time, they could’ve taken his powers away. And yet, they didn’t. Why is that? Why is it that they let someone like him, who has been shown to lose control, keep these powers?

Alright. Let’s take a look at the astrals. Let’s take a look at what they’re really doing here, because I think it’s interesting.

I’ve talked about this before, but the astrals operate like a cult.

Lunar is traumatized. He is emotionally broken and he has no idea what to do with his life. He’s just experienced death and lost his purpose in life, and now he has no idea what to do. And all of the sudden, the astrals appear.

Cults will often prey on people who are going through a rough time, as they’re much easier to manipulate and control. Not only that, but when they did appear on Earth, as I mentioned earlier, Castor asked Earth to “stop talking to Lunar” so they could evaluate if he was a threat. Cults will often isolate their victims away from their family and friends. Obviously they didn’t go through with this step, Lunar kept in contact with his family during his training, but it’s clear the astrals will use isolation as a way to control people. Remember when Nebula tried to befriend Earth and Taurus immediately scolded her for stepping out of line?

Next, they trained Lunar. They told him he’d have to leave behind this life on Earth, that he had a bigger purpose now. He wasn’t just an Earthling anymore, he was special. He could become somebody noteworthy if he trained hard enough. And they got closer to him, went on a vacation with him, spent time with him. Eventually they even pursued a romantic relationship with him.

But during this time, it was clear that they weren’t being completely honest with him. If he asked to many questions they’d say “you aren’t far enough into your training to know that yet.” They’d withhold information from him, yet another method often used by cults. They kept him enticed with the promise of something more. If he could get his emotions under control, if he was just a bit stronger, maybe Gemini would like him then. Maybe then they could be fully honest with him. Maybe then he’d be truly worthy.

They stayed committed to him. When he was in trouble, they went to court for him. They trained him diligently, stood up for him, they were always by his side. They cared for him.

And then, of course, disaster struck. They stopped training him. Lunar felt lost, he made a mistake, he had everything taken away from him. He lost his family, his friends, his partner. His entire life fell apart.

But think about why this all happened. They could’ve taken his power away. They could’ve come down to Earth, taken his powers away immediately, and been done with it all. None of this needed to happen.

I don’t think Lunar was justified when he killed Eclipse, and I don’t think it was okay for him to attack Earth either. Trauma isn’t an excuse to hurt people. But Lunar hasn’t had a break within the last two years.

First it was Eclipse, then the astrals, Bloodmoon, Nexus. He was abused every day for years, he died, he was brought back and began spiraling into depression, and then he was indoctrinated into a cult. Now he’s messing around with dark star power and getting himself into trouble.

And even now, he’s trying to be better. He’s been torturing himself, putting himself in that machine Moon made where he listens to his loved ones berate and verbally abuse him. Why? So he can impress Gemini. So he can have a purpose again.

TSAMS is the kind of show that’s meant to go on for a long time. The action has to happen FAST! But because of all the fast paced action, Lunar has been in multiple traumatic situations with no real breaks for two straight years now, and i think it’s messed up. He’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s trying his best. I feel bad for him.

[mscryinglighting]

hello, would you do an alex turner x musician reader? she's just as famous with a solid fanbase, and they get a lot of media attention and even called a power couple of some sort. yet behind closed doors they're like any ordinary couple that love each other the most and doesn't care about what other people say about them? basically lots of fluff. i hope this makes sense! <3

Between The Chords

Alex Turner x musician!reader

Word count: 1.1K

a/n: Thank you sm for this request!

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The paparazzi's camera flashes momentarily blind you as you exit the airport, arm in arm with Alex, you try to speed walk through attempting to reach the car in one piece, all while the shutterbugs yell things like:

“Do you think you’ll be up for a BRIT this year?

And

“Y/n, any thoughts on the criticism of your new single?”

“These paps seem tame enough, non invasive especially for LA’s standards.” You thought, though their relentless camera flashes were starting to turn your mild headache into a full on migraine. You were fairly new to the scene, your debut album having blown up a little over a year ago, Alex on the other hand was slightly more well versed in the music industry, maybe that was what drew you to him -his experience- he’s become sort of a lighthouse keeping you afloat among the madness.

After what felt like an eternity you finally reach the car. Alex, ever the gentleman, holds the car door open for you, once you’re in he climbs in next to you, his fingers naturally finding yours, intertwining them as the car eases forward.

“God, I have such a headache,” you groan, burying your face against his neck.

“Oh, me poor baby,” Alex teases, smirking. “Need some Aspirin?”

“Shuddup.” You grin despite yourself. It’s like his superpower—making you smile through anything.

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The hum of the engine and the faint rhythm of raindrops against the windshield make the drive almost peaceful. Alex’s thumb absentmindedly strokes the back of your hand, his warmth lulling you into a half-daze. Before you know it, the car slows to a stop outside your place.

“You alive, love?” Alex murmurs, squeezing your hand.

Barely. You just want to crawl into bed—but with him, of course.

Inside, the familiarity of home washes over you. Despite four months of touring, you both fall into your usual routine like no time has passed. Instead of unpacking like a responsible adult, you strip down and slip into a pair of Alex’s boxers and his hoodie—your real post-tour uniform—before heading downstairs.

Alex is already in the kitchen, and you watch him from the couch, your favorite spot for early morning and late-night admiration.

“Whatcha makin’?” you call, arms draped over the back of the couch. The open layout of your home—a design choice you hadn’t realized you’d love so much—means you get a perfect view of him moving around the kitchen, a bonus you fully take advantage of every time he makes breakfast shirtless.

Alex returns from the kitchen, a steaming mug in hand. “Doctor’s orders,” he jokes, handing it over with a lopsided grin. “Drink up before your headache gets worse.”

You take a sip, the warmth spreading through you. “When did you get your medical degree?”

“Oh, love, I’ve been a specialist in you for ages,” he quips, nudging you playfully.

“Stop it.” You blush bashfully, hiding your face in his chest.

He chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head before reaching behind the couch to pull out his guitar. “Mind if I play some tunes?”

“Now?” You raise a brow, amused. “You just survived an eight-hour flight, and you still have energy for this?”

“Yes, now while I still have my gorgeous muse beside me.” He starts to strum out a tune on his guitar, his fingers moving with practiced ease until he reaches the F Major, the one chord that always seems to trip him up.

You’re playing it wrong,” you say, watching him fumble with the chord.

“I am Alex Turner, y’know.” He says smugly while still trying to perfect the chord.

“Then act like it,” you tease, playfully nudging his shoulder. You set your mug down before briskly taking the guitar to show him how it's done. 

“Look,” you say, shifting closer, “put your index here, and your middle on this string—like this.” You guide his fingers into place, your hands lingering over his.

He looks up at you, his eyes glinting under the warm glow of the lamp. “What would I do without my genius of a girlfriend?”

Alex strums the chord again, this time getting it right transitioning into a melody. It’s slow, almost hypnotic, and then he starts singing—low and soft, just for you.

You rest your head against his shoulder, letting his voice wrap around you like a warm blanket.

“You falling asleep on me already?” Alex murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair.

“M’not,” you mumble, but your body betrays you, melting further into him.

He chuckles. “That’s what they all say before they start drooling on me hoodie.”

You swat at him weakly. “I do not drool.”

“Right. Just like I don’t mess up F Major.”

You groan, hiding your face against his chest. “I regret helping you.”

“No, you don’t.” His voice is warm, teasing. “And you love me.”

You huff, but your sleepy smile gives you away. “Yeah, yeah.”

Fame could be loud. But moments like this? This was what really mattered.

Speaking of fame, the airport paparazzi pictures have already been posted to social media, both your fandoms were going absolutely berserk over the images. Since Alex was a grandpa about social media you had to read out all the comments to him. Well maybe only the nice ones.

“Wanna hear what the internet has to say about us?”

He hums, strumming idly on his guitar. “Oh, go on then. What’s the verdict?”

You clear your throat and read dramatically, “‘Rock’s Most Stylish Couple Spotted in L.A.: Y/N Stuns in Casual Chic While Turner Keeps It Classic.'"You glance down at yourself—his hoodie and boxers, your hair still slightly messy from the flight. “Casual chic, huh?”

Alex looks over, eyes flicking lazily across your outfit. “Yeah, proper high fashion, that.”

You snort, scrolling down. “Oh, this one’s good—‘Alex Turner and Y/N Y/L/N prove once again they’re the definition of couple goals.’” 

Alex smirks but doesn’t look up from his guitar. “Ah, well, hate to break it to ‘em, but we’re actually a disaster behind closed doors.”

You roll your eyes, scrolling further until a tweet makes you burst into laughter. ‘Alex and Y/N are real-life couple goals. If they ever break up, love isn’t real.’

You turn to Alex, raising a brow. “No pressure or anything.”

Alex finally stops strumming and squints at your phone. “They’re putting that much faith in us?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you tease. “Apparently, we’re single-handedly holding the concept of love together.”

Alex sets his guitar aside and tugs you closer, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “Well then, guess we’ve got no choice, love.”

You grin, leaning into him. “Guess not.”

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a/n: Hope I did this amazing request justice! I had so much fun writing this, and I truly appreciate all the love and support. Also, part 2 of ‘The AM Effect’ is in the works—I can’t wait to share it with you all soon!

[sojumica]

| AGAPE LOVE | Heina sukuna x Goddess reader

001. Moonlight wordcount:714

Sukuna hated most gods. He realized, deep down, that most were cowards getting high off power and praise from their worshippers while doing the bare minimum for them in return. He was never one to praise gods in his many years of life, going on 400 years old. Why would he, as king, praise a god? If anything, he should be a god just like the rest of those buffoons on Mount Olympus, but he was not; he was stuck here on Earth, wreaking havoc on anyone who dared to mess with him.

Many of Zeus' worshippers tried to threaten him, saying, “May Zeus come down and strike you with a lightning bolt, you 4-armed beast.” They spoke loud and in fear.

“I wish that lazy bastard of a god named Zeus would,” he burst out in laughter on his throne made of the skulls of the people who dared to fight him…

One night, he sat amongst the stars, drinking the night away, as the king of curses usually did. He was met with a group of men with torches. Being unfazed by the group, he gave a short eye roll at the fact that his night of peacefulness might be cut short.

“You dare wreak havoc on our city; we shall attack you,” the largest man in the group spoke out.

“Which God sent you?” Sukuna looked down at his cup of alcohol, the moonlight reflecting off it.

“The Goddess Yn sent us.” The man puffed his chest out as the rest of the group boosted his ego.

Yn? Sukuna thought to himself, trying to recall if he’d ever heard your name before. He was positive he knew all the gods and goddesses, so how come he didn’t know yours?

"Interesting, I’ve never heard of her. Who is she?" He looked up at the man with both sets of glowing red eyes.

"Yn is the mother of all lost and broken spirits of this world and the afterlife," he spoke with confidence.

"And this Yn sent you? Are you sure of that?" Sukuna said, eyeing the man down.

"Yes, she di—" the man said, trying to finish his sentence when the cracking of leaves stopped him. Someone emerged from the trees. A nymph.

"The goddess Yn sent me here to inform you all that she never called you men to come and attack the king of curses, and that Zeus had tricked you men. She apologizes on her behalf to everyone here today. May everyone head back home and leave the king of curses alone, please and thank you," they said before bowing and disappearing once again into the trees.

"You heard the nymph, beat it," Sukuna said, flashing his sharp canines at the men who ran away in delight that they didn’t have to get killed by the force of the gods.

"Once again, Zeus makes humans do his lazy work," he said, laughing up at the sky to taunt Zeus about his yet another failed attempt to get him killed.

As Sukuna lay there on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his mind wandering back to you. "Why did you stop the fight? How come he’s never heard of you?" He couldn’t stop thinking about how you called him the king of curses. Did you know of him? I mean, of course, you would’ve since Zeus loves picking a fight with him. Although if you were on Zeus's side, wouldn’t you just have let the men attack him? So why did you not?

“What a foolish goddess, may Zeus have mercy on you Yn…” he thought as his eyes slowly closed and he headed to sleep.

“Mercy on me? I’m a lot stronger and smarter than you realize Mr. King of curses come and see my temple for yourself.” A giggling woman spoke out.

Sukuna woke up shocked and confused to what he was just dreaming about, it was still late at night.

“Was that her?” He grabbed his head with his hands.

“No, snap out of it; that's foolish,” he said, trying to dumb down the thoughts. Sukuna knew gods were able to speak to people in various ways, and you had already spoken to him in one (one being the nymph) and now two in his dreams.

•Sukuna and Zeus have had beef been since sukunas cursed technique appeared.

•no god can fight sukuna because they don’t know wether to classify him as a curse or a human yet (this has been going on since he was born)

•more importantly no other god has major beef with sukuna BUT Zeus

•Aphrodite took a liking into sukuna when he was about 300 years old but she gave up when he wasn’t impressed by her beauty

Taglist; @vitoshi @miiyas

[lilimaginebean]

five days — 五日

synopsis: In which Kaiser fell in love with his tattoo artist, or in which Kaiser has only five appointments to convince you to go on a date with him.

note: just two chapters left :))

prev | next

🥀 Day 3

"Kaiser? What are you doing here? We have a meeting in 15 minutes," you asked the tall figure walking in front of you, recognisable only by the old cap he always wore to the meetings.

This time you weren't in the studio, but on a random street in Berlin. It was Saturday, and your uncle had given you the morning off with a long list of chores to do.

His hair had changed, the wild and long blonde hair had become short with two long rat tails. The lower part and the strands were dyed blue.

"Don't call my name, and I could ask you the same... What are you doing here?" Kaiser asked to approach you.

"Well, some chores, but hey, look what I bought in the library," you said as you took a book out of one of your bags. "I bought it for you, I thought you might like it."

Kaiser took the book and stared at you. It was the first and only gift anyone had given him without second intentions.

"I don't really know how to react..." he admitted

"Well, most people say thank you" you said in a funny tone.

He rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t talking about that, but that I also bought you something” Kaiser got from the bag he was holding a giant bouquet made from your favorite sweets

You blinked surprised.

“What? Most people say thank you” he said in a mocking tone

“Thank you” you said while taking the giant and heavy bouquet and eating a sweet “Really, thank you, appreciate it”

You smiled him, and Kaiser couldn’t avoid but returned you that genuine smile.

“Also, what about your change of hairstyle? Why did you change it?” you asked curious while staring at that peculiar hairstyle and asking how could he pull off that great

“What? Don’t you like it?” he asked curious while touching his hair “I’ve been receiving plenty of compliments from the hairstylists, and it also cost me a lot of money”

While you leaned to him to stare and admire his hair even better, you realized that wasn’t the only change on him.

“Wait… is that red eyeliner?” again, how could he pull off

Kaiser nodded once again.

“Yeah, I went to a Korean Stylist, and she recommended me this. It deepens my stare, right?” he said while approaching even more to you, leaving just a lil bit of space between you two

“Michael Kaiser, you’re such a diva” you said with a smirk

“Liebling, It's all for you. I told you I would make everything right, so there would be no reason or excuse to reject me," he said firmly, "so now tell me. I have dressed up and get presentable so that you will finally accept my proposal. If you refuse me again, I will stop trying. Tell me, would you like to go out with me?" Kaiser asked again, nervous to hear your answer. He had done everything he could, now all he could do was wait for your answer and hope for the best.

“I mean, if you tell me where your eyeliner comes from, of course.” you said with a smirk

He smiled at your answer. He put his hand in his pocket and tossed you the eyeliner you asked for. You gasped when you realised it was from YvesSaintLaurent.

"There you are, although this colour won't suit you. You don't have my colour palette," Kaiser said confidently as he called a taxi. "Let's take a taxi, we are already late for our tattoo appointment."

You followed him, saving the eyeliner on your pocket coat.

"All right, but you're paying for it," you said, staring at him, he just rolled his eyes as he opened the door for you.

“I never expected anything else, everything for you Liebling".

[spoonfulofmilo]

this is such a throwback, but ages ago, I made this moodboard

and now i've written a fic about it

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

susie wolff x mercedes driver!male!reader x toto wolff

“So, Y/N, straying away from your stellar on track performances…” Y/N could tell where this was going, but he was contractually obligated to stay and hear her out so he forced a grin and a nod towards the interviewer

“Yeah?”

“You obviously recently announced your relationship with your team boss, Toto Wolff and his wife Susie, congratulations by the way, I’m sure you’ve had a lot of questions surrounding it…”

“Yeah…” Y/N relaxed a little bit, this interviewer didn’t seem to be questioning the ethics or morality or team disputes in it, which was a welcome relief.

“I’m just wondering how the three of you avoid excluding someone, as this is quite common in trios and…”

“Sorry?”

“I just meant… well, there seemed to be a lot of events I can think of, just off the top of my head, such as the Mercedes gala last year, which Toto and Susie attended, obviously Lewis didn’t, but neither did you, which is a little surprising, and…”

Y/N’s mind immediately knew which event she was talking about as his mind flashed back to it…

—

“Hey, Liebe, we’re just heading out, we’ll be back.” Toto nodded at the kitchen as he straightened his tie in the hallway

“Oh, where are you going?” Y/N looked up from the data he’d been studying on the kitchen table. He was surprised to see Toto and Susie nicely dressed up. Surely he hadn’t forgotten about a date.

“Just some sponsor function.” Toto paused as he watched Y/N’s face fall. “They didn’t want to see the drivers, saw you guys as ‘too angry and irrational and stuck up’, otherwise you would be coming darling.”

“But… I- I could come, give me 10 minutes to get changed and i’ll be ready. Not as a driver, just as a Mercedes ambassador, surely?”

“Oh, sorry, darling. It’s not that kind of function. No Mercedes ambassadors are gonna be there, just bosses and partners…” Susie paused as Y/N tried to interject “I know, I know, but you’re not publicly out as our partner, and it would be odd of us to drag you along, as a driver.”

“Oh…it’s okay, yeah that’s fine… I’ll stay here, and get this work done…”

Y/N did not finish his work. He sat at the kitchen table staring at his work, thinking about where it all went wrong. He’d wanted to come out about their relationship since it began, but since it began not too long after he had signed for Mercedes, there were always going to be comments about him ‘sleeping his way to the top’. He thought he could deal with that.

But because Toto and Susie were older and supposedly knew better, and they had insisted that Y/N get settled at Mercedes, win a few championships, and then maybe the relationship could go public.

But…this gala wasn’t the first time this had happened. Y/N couldn’t even think to count the amount of dates he had missed out on because they’d been going out and he couldn’t be seen with them,

They made up for it, sure, and he had agreed to a private relationship, when he was young and cared more about people’s opinions than he did now.

—

“Sorry Y/N?”

“Um, y’know we manage, as I’m sure you’re aware, we wanted to keep our relationship private for a reason and attending galas that my other driver was not would have arised suspicion, I’m sure. Sorry. I’ve just checked the time, I think because of all the questions I’ve gotten, I’m running late for debrief, apologies.”

Y/N could tell that his press officer was looking at him oddly, knowing that debrief didn’t start for half an hour as Lewis had only just entered the media pen. But she could tell that something had agitated the driver and let him run off towards his driver room.

—

“Darling…where are you?”

Toto and Susie wandered through the hotel room, searching for any signs of Y/N in there.

They’d heard that Y/N had been spotted leaving the paddock an hour ago, backpack on, hood up, not talking to interviewers or taking photos with the kids.

And he hadn’t turned up to debrief. He called in and added a few hmms here and there on his engineer’s phone, but no face, and no real contribution to the conversation.

And now they were searching through the, initially welcome, now hindering large hotel suite they had for the weekend, trying to find their partner.

Jack was also helping the search, checking under all the couches and tables, until he went into the closet and loudly exclaimed “Y/N!”

Susie walked into the bedroom, seeing Y/N with tears still falling down his face, with his hood up, and a half packed open suitcase next to him, as he embraced Jack. He looked up, and Susie could see his red-rimmed eyes from here, and sobbed and held on tighter to Jack, burying his face in the little boy’s shirt.

Susie had a feeling she knew where this had come from. She slowly approached the boys and tried to extricate Jack from Y/N’s ironclad grip on the young boy. She felt Toto enter the room and come to the same conclusions that she had.

Y/N without speaking tried to plead with her, until he finally let go of Jack, and curled up in himself in a corner, hiding his face.

“Who said something, I’ll blacklist them from the paddock, liebe.” Toto immediately was pulling out his phone.

Susie didn’t think that was the way this conversation needed to go.

“Can’t blacklist the entire paddock Toto.” Y/N looked up and Susie got a first full proper look at his face, which was blotchy and red, and he’d clearly been crying for a while. He averted his eyes and started grabbing more clothes and haphazardly shoving them in the suitcase again.

“Darling, darling where has this come from? We know most of the paddock were gonna ask about the ethics of our relationship, and I don’t think that would’ve gotten you like this. We talked about how to call them out.”

“I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“Liebe, do you mean the team, because I really think that someone should’ve been in touch…”

“No, no, I’ll stick by the team if you still want my shitty results, I’m leaving the relationship.”

“What, liebe, you can’t just leave…”

“Why not? It’s not like you care about me anyway…” Y/N furiously wiped at the tears that were continuously falling down his face as he continued. “You’re always leaving me at home while you get to go on dates, and be seen together as a couple, meanwhile, I’m stuck at home…It’s…It’s like you don’t want to be seen with me cause you’re ashamed of me.”

“Oh, baby, we’re not ashamed of you. We could never be ashamed of someone so talented, and kind and open and passionate as you are. We were worried about how you would be treated if this relationship came out.”

That was all it took for Y/N to launch himself into Susie’s arms, sobbing, and clinging onto her. Susie rubbed his back, whispering soothingly as he sobbed, repeating over and over again ‘i’m sorry, i’m sorry’ and she soothed him reminding him again and again how much they loved her.

Toto crouched down, also, embracing his 2 partners “And liebing, your results are not shitty. I actually was contemplating making you the lead driver cause youre so close to challenging Max for the championship. I spoke with Lewis about it after the debrief and he agreed.”

“What? No, no. Lewis has won 7 world championships, Lewis, Lewis should be challenging Max. Getting revenge for 2021.”

“Lewis wants to support you. I was going to discuss it with you after debrief but you didn’t come.”

“I’m sorry, being a bratty driver.”

“We all have our off days. I think it’s part of being a driver, maybe Toto likes it and thats why he’s dating 2 of us.”

Y/N couldn’t help but crack a smile, thinking through everything.

Despite the challenges, they would always be there for him.

Although Toto would always say that if he ever moved to Red Bull, they may not be. But a slap on the arm from Susie would shut him up.

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @anicega, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m, @koalapastries, @camelliaflow3r

[chdarling]

Hi CH Darling!

I just wanted to take a moment to tell you how much your books have meant to me. Over the years since you started publishing TLE1 and TLE2, I’ve gone through some really difficult times, losing both my parents after a long illness. It might sound silly, but reading about James’s grief over his father’s illness and Lily’s loss after the accident resonated with me deeply. I felt seen in a way I didn’t expect, and your books made the grieving process so much more bearable.

I want you to know that I’m doing really well now, but I have to admit—I cried and cried when you dropped that TLE3 spoiler about James and Lily talking about death. That one hit hard!

I absolutely adore you, and I’m beyond excited for the third book. I just know it’s going to be spectacular. I also wanted you to know that I don’t think you realize just how much happiness you’ve brought to so many people—including me.

Sending you all my love ❤️

I had to sit with this ask for a little while before responding because it elicited such a strong emotional response in me (in a nice way!). The first time I read it, I sat down on my couch and just sobbed (again, in a nice way!). I am still in a mental place these days where I feel like I struggle to effectively wrangle my words around the thoughts I want to convey, but please bear with me as I try.

First of all, I am so, so sorry about your parents. That is such a heavy loss to bear. It doesn’t sound silly to me at all to turn to stories in times of suffering (this is why TLE exists in the first place, to be honest), and I am so profoundly honored to have been able in a small way to sit with you through this grief.

I have been feeling very useless and alone lately in the face of everything happening in my country and the world. I won’t go deeply into that, but I’ve spent a lot of time unhealthily and somewhat brutally interrogating myself over what can I even do to combat all of this, when the only thing I know HOW to do is write my stupid little stories? And what good does that do anyone, really? In the face of a fascist takeover, a burning planet, a lingering (and looming) pandemic, an intolerable onslaught of grief and loss, what is the point or value of my fuckin’ Harry Potter fanfiction? Of art at all? Of me?

This message — and all the messages people have been sending me lately — really helped to remind me what the point is. It’s connection. It’s communion.

Grief is an uneven road — it bends and forks and often loops back upon itself — but it is a road that all of us will one day walk. The point of art, I think — be it poetry or novels or a fuckin’ HP fanfiction — is to make sure that we do not have to walk it alone. Thank you for letting me walk with you, and thank you for telling me about it. It made me feel less useless and alone.

I cannot thank you enough for that. ❤️

Annnnnd I’m crying again. (In a nice way!!!!!!)

[umi-adxhira]

ᝰ.ᐟ SERENITY | 012

FANDOM: TWTPTFLOB

WARNINGS: Dion

AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's now later heehee

◄ PREVIOUS CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ►

You’re in your room, brushing your hair as the morning light filters through the window. The second day of Yggdrasil has arrived, and you prepare yourself to step out once more into the world of nobles and hidden dangers. Your movements are slow, methodical - anything to delay the inevitability of leaving the comfort of your room. I never thought brushing my hair would be so calming. I guess I never really got to appreciate it since I always needed to get ready fast for school since I wake up late almost every morning.

Your new maid is out fetching your breakfast. You don’t know her name, and you don’t plan to. There’s no point in learning the name of someone who might not last. Elaine had died almost immediately, and while you had felt a moment of disquiet at her passing, it had been brief. No bond had been forged, no attachment made. It had been easier to let go that way.

You set your brush down, exhaling softly. It’s better this way. A knock on the door disrupts your thoughts. You blink, turning toward it. "Come in." The door opens, and there stands Dion. He lingers at the threshold, his eyes unreadable, his presence heavy despite his silence. Something about the way he stands there, unmoving, makes the air in the room feel thick. You shift slightly in your seat. "You can come in, you know."

Dion steps forward, his movements sharp yet strangely hesitant. Then, with no warning, he slams the door shut behind him. The abruptness of it startles you, your heartbeat quickening for just a moment. "What’s wrong?" you ask, your voice softer than he expected.

He doesn’t answer. He walks across the room until he stands right behind you, his appearance visible in the mirror in front of you. He reaches forward, taking a small section of your hair between his fingers. His touch is deliberate, his thumb grazing over the strands in a slow, thoughtful motion. You freeze, your hands stilling in your lap, still holding your hairbrush.

He’s never done this before. Not like this. "Dion?"

Still, he says nothing. A few moments pass before he finally speaks, his voice quieter than usual. "I’ve been thinking a lot."

The weight of his words settles over you. Your mind flickers back to last week once more. I never even thanked him, did I?

An odd guilt twists in your chest. Dion had done something no one else had, and yet you had let it pass without a word of gratitude. That realization urges you forward before you can think better of it. You stand, stepping toward him. He watches you, his gaze unwavering. Why does he always look at me like that? As if he’s searching for something only he can see.

You don’t allow yourself to hesitate. You reach up, pressing a quick peck against his cheek. The briefest touch - a whisper of warmth against his skin. "Thank you."

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. He only stares at you, the usual blankness of his expression made, “You already thanked me,”

A heartbeat passes. Then another. I DID??? THEN WHY HAVE I BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT FOR SO LONG??? DID I ACTUALLY FORGET I THANKED HIM? AND NOW I KISSED HIM. ON THE CHEEK. WHAT DO I DO?!?

Without a word, he turns away from you and makes his way to your bed, sitting down heavily. His posture is loose, his hands resting between his knees as if deep in thought.

The door opens again. Your maid returns, carrying a tray of food. The moment she sees Dion, her hands tremble slightly, though she keeps her head down. She places the tray on the table before glancing hesitantly at him. "D-do you need anything, sir?"

Dion barely acknowledges her. "Leave."

She does, nearly tripping over herself in her haste. The door clicks shut behind her, leaving the two of you alone once more.

You make your way over to the table, lifting a sandwich from the plate. Without much thought, you take a bite, barely noticing the crumbs that fall onto your lips. The silence between you and Dion is thick but not uncomfortable.

He watches you as you eat, his gaze unwavering. You feel it, the weight of it pressing against you, but you don’t shy away. He’s always watching. But why does it feel different now?

You tear off a small piece of your sandwich and hold it out to him. "Want a bite?" He exhales through his nose, the closest thing to a scoff, and declines with a small shake of his head.

A faint smile tugs at your lips. You don’t push further, simply returning to your meal. The crumbs stick to your fingers, dotting your lips. Before you can wipe them away, Dion reaches forward. His thumb brushes against the corner of your mouth, slow and deliberate, swiping away the stray crumbs, similar to how he treated your hair a few minutes ago.

Your breath catches. His touch lingers just a moment longer than necessary before his hand falls away. Then, without warning, he shifts. He kneels on the floor before you, his head lowering until it rests gently against your lap.

Your body stills. "Dion-"

"Let me stay like this."

His voice is quiet, almost tired. It’s rare to hear him sound anything but composed.

Your free hand hesitates before lifting, fingers threading into his dark hair. It’s softer than you expect, silkier. You stroke lightly, feeling the way his muscles relax ever so slightly under your touch.

A part of you wonders why he’s doing this. Is this comfort? Is this something else entirely?

You exhale, allowing yourself to simply exist in the moment. The warmth of him against you, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath. The intimacy of it all is subtle, unspoken, yet undeniable.

Minutes stretch into an eternity. His breathing evens out, slow and steady, while your fingers move in soft patterns through his hair. There's something grounding about it, something that makes your heart ache in a way you don’t fully understand.

You lower your gaze to him, watching the way his lashes fan against his pale skin, the way his hand has slowly clenched into the fabric of your dress as if anchoring himself. Is he afraid I’ll disappear? How cute.

A strange sort of tenderness wells up in your chest. Carefully, you let your fingers trace along the back of his neck, feeling the tension still coiled beneath his skin. Dion never asks for things. He takes. But this… this is different.

Your voice is quiet when you finally speak. "You can stay as long as you need."

He doesn’t respond, but the way his grip tightens just slightly tells you everything you need to know. The morning light shifts, casting long shadows across the room. And still, neither of you move.

[luniviravosshipper]

Yeah, I love TDP personally but this is like one thing I’ve been really sour about lately.

I don’t know if you want to hear spoilers (everything except how his arc ended isn’t a big spoiler) or not since you haven’t watched the show since, so if you don’t you can feel free to ignore this reblog.

But Viren’s arc ended in the second to last season with him permanently dying. It’s not really popular in this fandom to be critical of the handling of his arc and arc’s ending, but I am. And in part because of the reasons listed above.

I don’t want to influence you to feel negatively towards his arc without you having seen what happens to him in case you end up deciding to pick up the show again, so I just want to clarify that I’m just sharing what’s purely my own feelings and I’m not claiming they’re right. But to give a basic summary of what happens, Viren throughout seasons 4 to 6 goes on this whole self-discovery journey where he tries to become self-actualized and a better person. But at the very end, as literally stated in interviews and public posts on social media made by the creators themselves, it’s decided that he was never going to be fully “redeemed” as a person because he wasn’t deserving to be. Now, I myself never wanted him to have a full fledged redemption arc, but I really disagreed with the reasoning used by the creators as to why they didn’t want him to have one either and especially disagreed with what type of arc they thought was best to provide him instead. He ends up spending the entire sixth season locked up in a jail cell, looking back onto how bad of a person he was before without being given the chance to plead for forgiveness (he didn’t want to anyways and was willing to accept any punishment he’d receive) and feeling completely isolated from everyone and essentially spending his days wallowing in his own misery, until at the very end where he’s needed to save the kingdom of Katolis (I won’t spoil specifically what from) and then sacrifices himself in an attempt to do so.

A lot of the classist/racist undertones I found would be too much to explain right now since they go over seasons worth of subtext, but mainly I’m mad about how those undertones were affirmed by how exactly he died. I guess one example I can share about how I thought it tied into those undertones is how he died in the same robes the Sunfire elves back in season 3 gave him for the purifying ritual and while claiming to be a “servant”. (There’s a lot more of an explanation behind the servant motif used for him that would take me too long to explain right now, and it’s not inherently bad. It’s just the way they decided to go about using it in conjunction with every other choice they made in writing his arc that, yeah, makes it read off as sort of classist/racist.)

But anyways, that’s what happened to him and how I feel about it. It is really disappointing to see how TDP tried so hard to punish Viren as a character and in turn went and did the complete opposite of what might have been necessary for him to have had an actually nuanced arc like they had wanted.

(Also, since I saw your tags, I was specifically looking for some older posts—actually because of my criticism for the handling of his death in season 6—from when just seasons 1 to 3 of the series were out that I saw a while back speculating that Viren had depression. Since, well, his death kind of went into some of those disturbing themes too… But anyways, I just found your post reblogged to another person’s blog when I was searching for those. So that’s how I found this.)

Is it bad that I don’t want Viren to be fully redeemed? Because his ‘redemption arc’ is probably going to make him try to please the elves, or give up dark magic, or do all of these things that will just cheapen his character and/or play into the classism/racism inherent in the show’s differing treatment of elves and dragons vs humans, and that’s absolutely the last thing I want. Rayla needs to understand that mocking humans is Not Okay, especially if she doesn’t let Callum ‘mock’ elves (it wasn’t even really mocking though??). The show needs to address the heroism of dark magic and the moral double standard in treating it the way it does, including the vaguely-excused prejudice against it on both sides of the war. Viren is a good character and inherently a good person underneath Aaravos’ manipulations–he’s just not ‘good’ in the emotional, illogical, naive way the protagonists are.

[ceslatoil]

Ghost Filbrick AU

So a few weeks ago I was in the group chat and I pitched an idea for a fic (not writing it anytime soon, I have enough projects on my plate for now!) and it’s about the Pines family visiting Ma Pines before she moves to an assisted care facility. Main idea is that Dipper and Mabel meet Filbrick’s ghost who is trying to hinder the move, and the family trying to get him to move on. Lots of family drama ensues.

I wrote like, a scrap of a script draft for it if y’all wanna read it below:

(Scene: The grown ups, including CARYN, STAN, FORD and COOPER, MABEL & DIPPER’s dad, are all up playing cards. CARYN pulls out the Tarot Deck)

Caryn: I call this one “Last Man Standing!” You put down a card and the other player has to put down either the same suit or card number. If someone plays a major arcana card like wheel of fortune or the star, they can switch up the minor arcana suit. If you play death or the tower, the other players draw four. Whoever has zero cards wins!

Dad Pines: Grandma I think you just reverse engineered Uno

Stan: Dad wouldn’t buy us more than one card deck, so we made due with Ma’s tarot.

Ford: I thought it was to keep you from cheating the deck

Caryn: Both things could be true! Now hush.

Stan: … Coop is everything all right with Dipper? It’s not my business but… he seemed pretty cagey with ya earlier.

Caryn: Cagey? The kid stormed out of the room in the middle of dinner! Granted it was *my* cooking, so I can’t really hold a grudge on that front. (*plays a card*) That’s The Fool, so we’re reversing direction.

Ford: … It just doesn’t seem like him.

Coop: … that’s been the norm lately, I’m afraid. I don’t think he’s handling the divorce well, with me moving out and I just haven’t been around as much since then.

Ford: Mabel told us in one of her letters you were in family therapy together?

Coop: We’ve had a few sessions, yes. She loved it, got along great with our counselor. I think she asked a few times about becoming a therapist someday! But Dipper doesn’t really participate much during the sessions. He just sulks in the corner, like he doesn’t want to be there at all.

Stan: He’ll get over it. He’s stubborn, but not the type to hold a grudge.

Ford: I can’t imagine any of this is easy for any of you.

Coop: Weirdly enough, me and Annie— uh, Annie and *I*— have gotten on better than ever. Divorce was the best thing to happen to our relationship, it’s like we’re finally friends again?

Stan: Divorce ain’t so bad, I’ve done it at least six times now!

Caryn: I thought about divorcing your father, but he died before I got around to it. Suit change.

Ford: when did Dad pass?

Stan: … ‘97.

Ford: … I see. (*silence*)

Caryn: … Let’s not talk about funerals right now. God knows I’ve been to enough of ‘em. I’m just glad one of ‘em didn’t count. (*pinches Stan’s cheek.*)

Stan: … me too, Ma.

Ford: … Last Man Standing

Stan: Like hell you are, you shit, draw four!

Ford: … that’s not the tower, that’s a Stan Buck!

Caryn: Don’t tell me you’re still making Stan Bucks! You know damn well that’s not how money works!

(This next part is self indulgent and idk if I’ll include it in the fic proper)

Caryn: Now Stanford… let me ask you a question. Why the hell have you been hiding your left hand in your pocket all night?

Ford:…. I don’t know what you mean— HEY!

(Caryn pulls his hand out of his pocket, examines his second ring finger)

Caryn: Stanford Filbrick why does it look like you have a wedding band on your finger?

Ford: …. (*sighs*) because I have a wedding band on my finger.

Caryn: AHA! Here we are moping about death and divorce and you sit on good news like that! Who is she? Who’s your wife? Where’d you meet her, what’s her family like, what does she do?

Ford:… I don’t have a wife. I have a husband.

Stan: The guy used to live in the dump and now he’s a millionaire inventor running for president.

Caryn: You married McGucket?! Me and the girls canvassed for him this year! Wait till I tell that Janine, that’ll get her to pipe down about her Chiropractor Son-In-Law for once!

Coop: I really like his policies on infrastructure, very forward thinking!

Stan: Eh, I’m voting third party. Nothing personal, I just don’t want a brother in law who’s commander in chief. It would make thanksgiving a nightmare.

Ford: You’re a felon, you can’t vote at all.

Stan: That hasn’t stopped me in thirty years!

Ford: So Ma, you’re… fine with—

Caryn: Sweetie, until this morning I thought two of my sons were dead and one cut all ties. I figured I deserved it. Sitting back while your Father gave you all grief for nothin. I told myself if I ever saw you again I’d take you as is, and I meant it.

[kingkatsuki]

Does anyone else think about breaking up with their self-ships? Like scenarios for when, how or why it might happen and for how long. Whether you remain friends or cut each other off completely, and if fate will bring you back together later?