#Maybe membership cards would be nice

[coralinnii]

I crave for a gathering of the different villainess AU MCs. A mutual commiserating over their villain-like lovers/husbands. A hey you were transmigrated too! Or in Floyd's case, help me what did I do wrong to deserve this! What kinds of interesting conversations, alliances, and other shenanigans may happen?

Imagine a round table of villain/ess!readers just discussing the insanity that is their situation. Like cue the topics that lead into existential crisis and maybe a few geek outs. 

One villain/ess!reader: Do you think the Spiderverse is real, then? Oh dang, maybe there’s a Pokémon world somewhere! 

Another villain/ess!reader: Ohhh, wonder what we gotta do to get reincarnated into that one?

Villain/ess!reader C: At least we're not in a horror genre… 

Imagine becoming the most peaceful era of all times because so many powerful members of nobility and even members of royalty are basically besties for some unknown reason. They really be bringing the kingdoms together.

Malleus’ villain/ess!reader: I’ll try to convince Malleus to join this year’s Noble Gathering. 

Leona’s villain/ess!reader, smirking: Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Leona shows up. He ain’t skipping if I got anything to say about it.

Imagine non-reincarnators, including the TWST men, not being able to make heads or tails of the slangs the villain/ess!readers use around each other. It’s like a whole another language in itself. It’s mostly to make sure no one knows what they’re saying but also because it’s fun. 

Azul’s villain/ess!reader: hey bestie, that heroine of yours be acting real sus, not gonna lie. 

Riddle’s villain/ess!reader: you think so? Do you think she’s a you know…? 

Azul’s villain/ess!reader: I don’t know about that. All I know is that she’s one thirsty bit-

Or sharing embarrassing reincarnator moments. 

Kalim’s villain/ess!reader: Kalim did something really sweet recently and I accidentally told him he had rizz. He started hounding me on what that meant and now he can’t stop saying it.  

Leona’s villain/ess!reader: At least you didn’t get caught saying “I’m not a furry but…” to your new beastman husband. 

Imagine the villain/ess!readers having actual discussions in figuring out who else might be reincarnators and making plans to bring them in. 

Jade’s villain/ess!reader: So Jade’s brother is currently chasing after someone…and I think the script has changed, you get me?

Azul’s villain/ess!reader: Oh dear, and with Floyd too? That’s a tough one. 

Malleus’ villain/ess!reader: I think I might have found another script-changer…

Riddle’s villain/ess!reader: Actually, me too…

Kalim’s villain/ess!reader: Now that you mentioned it…

Idia’s villain/ess!reader: Wow, so many newcomers! We should start making welcome gift baskets at this point. 

Vil’s villain/ess!reader: Oh, should we~? Vil has so many amazing skincare potions! 

Leona’s villain/ess!reader: No. Just…no.

[jarofstyles]

Flower 2

Okay so I really love these babies so I think I'm gonna do 3-5 parts! I'm loving the tension hehe. Let me know your thoughts!

Flower Masterlist

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WC-4.6k

Warnings- mention of age gap romance, mention of bdsm, mention of bad sexual experiences, loads of sexual tension, low-key sugar daddy h, trust me

Sleep didn’t come too easily for her, but she felt absolutely wired when she woke up. Her coffee only made it worse as she wrapped herself up in the dark wash denim jacket she’d borrowed from Harry when he drove her home a few weeks back. His truck pulled into the driveway and she was grabbing her tote bag and phone, making sure to lock up before turning to face him. 

There was a weird expression on his face- something she couldn’t place. It wasn’t quite angry or mad, but it was a little darker as his eyes ran over her face and then body. He remained quiet until she got down her porch steps. “S’that… my jacket?” He asked lowly. The tone was strange to her as he stepped closer, tugging on the collar of it. 

“Yeah, it’s really cute and I figured I could wear it around today and give it back to you at the end. Is that… is that okay?” She worried her brows. “I can take it off now if you want to wear-“

“No.” He cut her off. “No, it’s totally fine. It just… it looks really good on you, is all.” He mumbled, squeezing her shoulder. “You look beautiful, as always.” His compliment was genuine, feeling his finger tap her nose, making her crinkle it. “Put the shiny stuff on it again? Your fairy sparkle?” 

Y/N laughed out loud at his nickname for her highlight on her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “Mhm. I got a new pink one, think it suits me.” And maybe she’d been a lot more meticulous about her makeup now that she had a feeling this may be a more-than-friends situation. “I really like this look.” It was a tease, considering he wore the same thing off duty. Jeans and some sort of tee shirt with a quirky phrase or obscure musician on them. Today’s was relatively tame with a bee surrounded by some words about honey and health. Cute. “I actually like the tee today. A bit muscle-y.” His arms looked real fucking nice in this one. Of course he would have some considering he worked with his hands and was a pretty physical person but… damn. She allowed herself to admire it, respectfully. 

It wasn’t something she’d caught before but a slight pink brushed his cheeks at her compliment. “Thanks, petal.” He smiled. “I… I got us some coffee, got your favorite. It’s only half an hour away but I figured….”

“You know I love coffee. You’re the best, as usual.” She sighed, leaning into him to have a hug. It wasn’t usual for her to do it first but he reacted quickly, pulling her close as he rubbed her back, content to keep her there forever. He was never the first to pull back from a hug, but Y/N would happily stay like this for hours  if the option was there. He smelled good, was so warm and sturdy and he knew exactly how to play with hair. Unfortunately she did have to pull back, shooting him a shy smile as he took her by the shoulder to the car. 

Of course he opened the door for her, made she she was in properly before jogging to his own side. He ever did the whole hand on the back of the seat while backing out move, which… wow. It never missed. The weirdest turn on, but something about it just elevated a man. 

His car smelled ridiculously good, and judging by the little clips on his air vents, he had just changed them. He had a few lanyards for access to work yards and membership cards to certain stores, but no fun little fuzzy dice, or a air freshener with a kitty on it like she had. There and then, she took a mental note to get him one. Maybe a puppy one, though. His German shepherd was his best friend.

“Are you getting any books?” She asked him after a little time passed. The chatter had been casual so far, easy. The tension she felt since last night wasn’t bad in the car if she continued topic switching and slight gossip. 

“Mm, I dunno. I haven’t done much reading lately. What are you gonna get?” He questioned, sneaking a peek at her as they stopped at a red light. 

“Probably romance. I’ve been most interested in that. I’ve seen some good book recommendations online and the girls sent me some, Gia and I wanted to do a book club thing for one of the books by our favorite author. It’s a bad boy romance but it’s called Reaper.” She figured he’d have no idea what that was, but she watched his brow raise as he gave her a look. 

“Well… you do have a naughty side, don’t you?” He snickered, watching her eyes widen. “Think m’clueless? Just because I don’t read a lot doesn’t mean my ears don’t work. Tony told me his wife was reading that and it’s full of sex. Basically erotica.” He licked his lip, looking her over. 

“Oh- well, yes there’s sex but there’s plot to! Just because a book has sex doesn’t mean it isn’t good!”’she crossed her arms, huffing at him. It was a bit to rile him up a bit considering he was doing it to her and it worked. She watched his mouth open and close before rushing out an explanation. 

“No! No, m’not saying that. It’s not bad at all. It’s empowering, but uh, I was just saying I didn’t expect you to read books like that.” He had to pull away as the light turned green but he looked a little stressed that he offended her. 

“I’m joking, H. I know you didn’t mean it like that.” She snickered, watching his face turn to a bit to a scowl. “What, you thought I’m a nun or something? Just cause I’m not spilling all my stories at the table doesn’t mean I don’t have them.” She knew a lot of the group was very open about their sexual experience which was more than fine with her. Y/N was nosy and loved knowing other people's business, But in her life she didn’t share sex related things. It was private, for her and her partners. She didn’t want to betray their trust either, regardless of the terms they were on. 

“I….” His face was more pink now, hands flexing around the wheel as he cleared his throat. “I just thought maybe you didn’t care as much about it. Which is fine, by the way! It’s cool. I just wasn’t sure you cared too much. You never talk about it when we have our confession nights so I… I was being a bit presumptuous. I’m sorry. It just shocked me a little.” 

It was funny to make him squirm a bit but he didn’t need to feel bad. “It’s fine. Promise. No one really asks anyway, so I don’t offer it up first. I’m usually private about it because some of our friends are loud mouths but you can ask me stuff if you want. Maybe after we get our books you can ask me whatever questions come up.” She knew there would be plenty based on his face alone. 

“Really?” He seemed surprised. “Yeah, sure. I mean, I’m not trying to be weird or anything but you know about the time I called someone by the wrong name and the girl who put her tongue in my ear so….” He shrugged one shoulder. 

“Oh, god.” Her giggle was muffled by her hand. He had shared some of his horror stories and she’d found out he was a bit of a bondage fan and dabbled in kinky stuff but until now that info had been locked away in her brain under padlock and key. Suddenly someone had taken nippers to the lock and it was spilling out again, staining the floor. “Yeah… I suppose that is fair.” Angling her knees towards her, she stirred her coffee with the straw. “I think the worst thing that’s happened to me… hm. Probably the time I went home with a guy after a few dates in college and his place was really gross, but he was even more so. Like…” her nose scrunched. “Took his pants off and there was a smell coming from them. I couldn’t do it.” 

“Oh, fuck.” He hissed, wincing at the thought. That was pretty much a nightmare situation. Harry always smelled good and never seemed to be anything but hygienic so she knew he gave a shit about it but still. No one wanted to think of that. “That’s… unfortunate for both of you. Was he embarrassed? How did you get out of it?” 

“He wasn’t, is the thing. Said ‘girls should like a natural musk’ and I told him that it wasn’t a musk, it was a stench. He wasn’t happy with that so he didn’t refuse when I left. I had to take a long shower after that.” Shuddering in disgust, she hated recalling that. “At first I felt really guilty too, cause that’s such a hard thing… but he ended up being such a dick. It was surprising considering he had been sweet on the dates but apparently men change a lot in the bedroom.” That was an understatement. 

“I can agree with that, but I’d hope it’s a positive change.” He shook his head at the thought. “Like, sweet in the streets and freak in the sheets or whatever the saying is.” 

A laugh peeled from her throat, leaning her head against the headrest with her face turned towards him. “Yeah, close enough. But ideally they would be. I dunno, you don’t have to be crazy to be good in the bedroom but I’d hope for the same level of respect. Some men have no idea how to actually handle women so it’s partly why I stopped dating.” And why she had stayed up looking at his Instagram last night and thinking about how she’d look inserted in his life. Harry seemed like a man who could potentially handle her. 

“I wish I could disagree but I can’t. I’ve heard many horror stories from girls, way more traumatizing than men. It’s why…” he stopped himself. “Sorry, was gonna overshare. But I can only imagine how it is and if it’s any consolation, I’m sorry for all the men.” 

God, he was cute.  But… wait. 

“No no, you can definitely  overshare.” She perked up. “If you want to, anyway. I don’t mind.” Blinking at him, he cut a look at her and let out a laugh as he lifted a hand to run it over his chin, the slight sound of skin scratching stubble audible in the cab of his truck. 

“Well, I was gonna say it’s why I try t’be aware of that when I’m with someone that their comfort is first. If there’s anything they don’t like they can say it, that m’not gonna be mad. I don’t want someone to walk away from something with me and feel uncomfortable.” Seeing him a little shy was really fucking adorable. “I don’t really do hookups anymore. They’re not fulfilling, at least not to me. Lost their appeal a few years ago but, the few relationships I’ve been in the whole goal was to make them feel good. I think there’s a lot of selfishness that’s mainly revolved around men and sex, which I noticed a lot. The fact that a lot of women aren’t getting off at all is fucking ridiculous.” He scoffed, looking truly bothered by it. 

Another point added to his growing list. 

“Yeah, it is. It was rare I could because for me, and I think a good amount of women, there needs to be the foreplay aspect of it. Mentally, I need to be stimulated. Y’know, like teasing or not so clean talking.”

It was her turn to feel a little shy but she powered through. “And men can dive right in. It’s where we differ a lot of the time. I think part of it is biological too, I guess. I tried hooking up for a while but it never did anything for me either. I prefer someone with a connection so it’s easier to get to that point.” Now she was the one oversharing. 

“I understand that. I like those things too. A bit of cat and mouse can be fun…” he pushed his hair back before returning his hands to the wheel, squeezing it. “It’s laziness and selfishness. I’d say for me personally, M’more of a giver. Not saying it to praise myself or anything but it’s just… it’s what I like.” There was a pause. “Sorry if that’s a bit much.”

No, it wasn’t enough. She wanted to know more. Her neglected cunt was more than interested in how he was in bed and if he’d like to be a giver for her, but she had to at least try to behave. 

“It’s not. We’re just being honest, right?” She placed a hand on his knee, giving a daring squeeze and let it linger for a few moments before peeling it away. Again, testing the waters of initiating touch. Once she’d realized last night that she hadn’t shown her own interest much she had vowed to at least try today to see how he'd respond.

In this instance his smile grew and he couldn’t look right at her, but he nodded at what she’d said. “Yeah. I jus’ don’t want to seem like some creep. But uh, what other sort of books do you like? Romance, yeah, but what sort of tropes?” He did know some of those. 

“Oh, I’m pretty adventurous.” A double meaning. “I like the grumpy and sunshine ones, the billionaire romances, mafia is a guilty pleasure. Meet cute is something else I enjoy for a light read. I dunno, I think I mainly go for what the summary calls to me for. I do read some darker stuff but it’s nice to have a little fantasy world to escape to. And the fantasy men know how to find a clit.” Throwing the joke in there was meant to diffuse some of tension but somehow it seemed to make it grow. 

Not in a bad way, per say, but he looked at her curiously. “Don’t tell me that all of them couldn’t….”

“No, no. Some of them did, but majority no. They rub the side and think they’re doing something. But I’ve never faked it, I refuse to give a man an ego boost for something he didn’t do.”

“Good on ya, petal. S’bullshit that they get off and you don’t.” He genuinely seemed bothered by it. “Buncha pricks is what they are.” 

“They are.” She snickered. “But I’ll let you read some of the blurbs for the books I pick out today, you can get a read on what sorta books I like.” It was yet again, another way to experiment. 

“I’m very intrigued to see what you’re into.” 

Y/N hopes that held a double meaning too. 

—-

Harry was hovering a bit. 

Normally that would annoy her. She’d huff and tell him to sit in the cafe, or go look at his own books- but she hoped that it was because he was paying attention to what she picked up. 

Plus, he was holding the basket for her. 

The store was earthy and rustic, exposed wooden beams running along the ceilings. There was a little cafe that served teas and coffees which she definitely planned on getting after her shopping, and from her nosy look over when Harry greeted the owner she had seen a blueberry scone. That would be coming home with her too. 

The shelves were high and they had multiple different sections. It was far bigger than any indie bookstore she had been to in the past , and that lead her to quickly realize quickly she was going to make a monthly trek out here. Maybe Harry would be interested in joining her in them. 

Maybe he’d be interested in doing a lot more with her. 

“I’m almost done.” She promised, plopping a used copy of a vacation town romance into the basket. It had to be a little heavy but Harry didn’t complain. It didn’t even look like the weight bothered him, the basket hanging off his arm. They’d stuck mostly to the used section considering they were far cheaper, but she was ready to go for the new ones now. 

So what if she took a little bit out of her savings for this? She deserved a little treat for once. 

“There’s no rush, Flower.” He assured her, following closely behind her as she moved towards the new books. “I was wondering if….” There was a pause as she looked up at him. It seemed to make his brain buffer for a moment, his eyes looking over her face before he blinked out of the stare. “Uh, it you wanted to have lunch or something after?”

Why was he so cute, and why did he look so nervous? Maybe Y/N wasn’t giving the signals she needed to. That would be her own fault, but it was hard to flirt when she was as serious as she was about her books. 

“On the condition that the iced mocha with a pump of caramel and the blueberry scone I get for the car ride doesn’t count as lunch, yes. I would very much enjoy that.” She chirped, watching the nerves melt off of his face. It was mind boggling that her of all people could cause him to be nervous in the slightest but you learned something new every day. 

“I’ll agree, because that’s more suitable for a dessert.” He drawled. Harry did like to tease her about her sweet tooth which always made her roll her eyes. So what if a girl liked to have a brownie with each meal? Life is nothing but spinning on an orb in space. You may as well enjoy the creature comforts. 

“If that’s your dessert I don’t think you’ve had a true one in a while.” The flirtation was light, testing the waters as she looked over the book covers. His eyes could be felt on the side of her face as he was quiet for a moment before letting out a little laugh. 

“Suppose I haven’t. You’re right. Maybe I’ll need to try yours and see what you mean.”

And oh. Oh. She did everything in her power not to react besides a little smirk, though she could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks. Harry could most defintely try her dessert whenever the fuck he wanted. 

“Should you be so lucky.” Was her slightly snarky reply, but he followed it up quite quickly. 

“One could only hope, Petal.” 

And yeah, maybe she felt her new heartbeat between her thighs as the newly heavier silence settled on them like oil in water, but it wasn’t necessarily bad. The anticipation was in her stomach as he got a bit closer, looking over her shoulder at the book she had picked up and was currently reading the back of. 

“What’s this one?” He asked, so close that she could feel the heat of his body against her back. 

“It’s called The Highest Bidder. It’s about… a girl who goes on an auction block at a BDSM club, he is one of the owners? Well he’s one of the richest. Anyways, I saw someone recommend it saying it has sugar daddy vibes and there’s some juicy stuff in it.” Y/N explained, taking the moment to lean back into him as she held the back cover for him to read. 

If he was surprised he didn’t show it. Instead, his hand came up to rest on her shoulder, pinky finger nearly grazing the side of her neck as he looked over to read. Such a casual touch of affection, but he seemed to like it. “And you’re gonna get this one?” It was a bit weirdly arousing feeling the vibrations of his words through his chest and onto her back. 

“I think so. I haven’t read an age gap for a while. Just hope the sex scenes aren’t shit. It’s hard to tell with books sometimes, even if they’re more kinky oddly enough. I’ve seen books that have the best summaries and seem super steamy have a two pump sex scene- or fade to black. Which, you know, is fine. Not all books need to have that, but what’s the point of making the book seem like it then?” She muttered. Clearly she had been victim to it a time or two.  “Then the authors get mad about low goodreads reviews. It’s like, cmon! Don’t mislead the readers about the book then.” 

It was something the woman did get passionate about when provoked, but Harry had opened that can of worms in the car when he had given his go ahead that he didn’t mind discussing things like this with her. 

“Mm. I see.” He nodded and she swore she could hear the smile in his voice. “Show me the others you want to get.” 

Y/N felt increasingly more comfortable as she went through the next five books, letting him read the back covers and giving him the low-down about what she had heard about them. Each time they moved their position would go back to where it was, with his hand on her shoulder and her back leaned into him, only he had gotten a little braver with running his smallest finger back and forth over the side of her neck. 

It nearly made her choke when she first felt it. She definitely stuttered when he did it, but she didn’t comment on how the little action felt incredibly intimate and soft, yet charged with an unspoken sexual energy that would probably kill her if she thought about it too long. Harry was being casual about it, but he always had been. He’d been the first to initiate most touches with her that Gia said were abnormal. Of course he didn’t start off their friendship by being super grabby and touchy but it had morphed into that, and it definitely did take him by surprise when she had initiated last night and again today. Kind of like she was reinforcing that it was more than okay to touch. 

“Are you sure you’re done?” He asked after placing her final book in the basket. Y/N felt like if she didn’t stop this weird, hot position of him asking questions about the books earnestly and his chaste-yet-sexy touches she may bend over the book table and get inappropriate really fucking fast. 

“Mhm.” She assured him. “Please, I’m gonna have to dip into the rainy day fund to afford all the stuff from today but it’ll be so worth it.” The sun shone through the windows and highlighted his features which, god, had her testing her own willpower. Of course she was far too shy to be super direct with him verbally, but she didn’t hide the fact that she was admiring him. 

Considering she had already been successful in her little experiments today, she saw the lock of hair that had flopped over his forehead and decided to push it back. Letting her fingers card through his hair, she pushed the strands out of his face and back into place. If she hadn’t been looking so intently she wouldn’t have seen the shiver he had from the action. His hair was so soft and obvious that Harry took care of it, and she had never really touched it all that much but the temptation had been too much. “Sorry, it was bothering me so it must have been bothering you.” She said simply, giving him a small smile. “I’m just gonna run to the restroom quickly and then we can check out. Okay?”

“Course.” He cleared his throat, nodding his head as if the question had taken a moment to load in his head. “I’ll be by the cafe then.”

Y/N really hated that bookstores made her have to go in there but it was a right of passage. Taking care of her business took only a few minutes, but when she came out she didn’t see him at first. 

He wouldn’t just leave her, so it took her a second to realize he was leaving the counter, two bags of books hanging off his arms and two coffees in the little tray. A brown paper bag clutched crumbled in the hand he used to balance the drink tray, making her eyes widen.

“Hey! I was gonna pay for our coffees and stuff.” She pouted as he approached. “You’ll have to let me get lunch then.” Her eyes went down to the two tote bags with the store logo on them. “Ooo, that’s so nice that they gave you these to hold them in. Let me just grab my wallet and we can go to the till to-“

“Don’t worry about it.” He cut her off, shrugging a shoulder. There was a pregnant pause, her eyes blinking rapidly before her eyebrows crinkled. 

“What do you mean? I have to pay.”

“They’re paid for.” The reply was simple and matter of fact. Again, words escaped her as she looked between him and the books. 

“Did you-“

“I paid. It’s fine, Flower.”

“Uh, what?” Her eyebrows shot up as her stomach dropped. It did the weird thing that had her feeling a little lightheaded as he stood there, like he didn’t just spend probably close to two hundred on books. “No way I can accept that.”

“If I told you I got a discount for building this place will it help?”

“Harry.” She said quietly. “You…. Why?” 

“Because I’m happy you agreed t’spend the day with me.” The reply was so to the point, not hiding anything at all that it almost felt unreal. Hell, it did feel unreal because who the fuck spent two hundred on books for a friend? Granted, she had a feeling-or a hope- there was a crush in there, but it felt like a huge gesture. 

“You already do so much for me.” She swallowed the lump down her throat. “You help me at my place and you drive me home from get togethers and you buy me drinks when we go out and… I feel like it’s a lot. I surely don’t do as much for you.”

“I’d do even more if you let me.” He stared honestly, nothing but truth on his face. “So jus’ let me do this for you. I want to. It makes me happy.” 

Y/N didn’t know how to argue with that. Instead, she nodded, and reached to take the bag and coffee tray from him since he had the much heavier books. “Thank you. I could cry, probably.” That wasn’t a joke. Her eyes felt like they were stinging. 

“None of that, Petal.” He shook his head. “C’mon. I’ve got plenty of questions and you’ve got answers you promised me on the way here.” Without thinking twice, he grabbed her free hand with his own, tangling their fingers before leading her to the truck. 

Y/N had no idea how so much had changed in 24 hours,

But she had a feeling it was about to change a whole lot more.

[drchucktingle]

mr. dr. chuck, i'm a few months ago i told a doc of mine that i believe i'm on the spectrum (after yeeeears of considering all the reasons why i thought so) and she agreed with me. then i came to some conclusions about members of my family. then i started melting down and haven't really recovered.

i'm in my 30's, but my life feels like it's been the mistake-addled 24th year for over a decade. people, choices, wants, they feel like things that were silly blips and not of much substance. i'm tired and my body hurts, so it feels harder to get to things i need. doctors don't seem like they can be trusted because of all the other ways i show up in the world.

i'm worried about my life and my future, and it feels like my magic is gone (or that i can't touch it right now). do you have any words of wisdom for someone who found out this really big thing about themselves kind of late?

thank you.

hello buckaroo thank you for writing. first of all i will say MOST IMPORTANT thing to remember is that it is okay and valid to FEEL the way that you feel. your reaction to this news or any news really is not wrong. that does not mean you cant wish for another reaction or WORK TOWARDS another reaction, but in grand cosmic sense this is just your way. YOUR TROT IS VALID and we all have our own unique way. sometimes that path is an easy path with sunny days and smiles and a glorious view, and sometimes it is through the darkness of shadows or crawling through the old bog. we can PREFER one path over the other, but neither is WRONG.

when giving advice old chuck tries to not PROJECT what i think YOU should do because that is not really the point. this is your trot to trot and i do not think it is my place to act like some authority of your way. what chuck can do is tell you MY story of diagnosis and how it made ME feel and maybe you can take little pieces of that for yourself.

chuck learned of way on autism spectrum when i was in early twenties by doctor who said 'yes this is your way'. when i learned of my spectrum way my reaction was: wow this is very very cool i am so lucky because all of my heroes are autistic and now i am in this RADICAL CLUB. we are special and unique and DANG what a treat wish i could have a membership card in my wallet to show all my buds.

now obviously this is not everyones reaction, but as starting off point i wonder what it would have meant to my future if the news would have HIT ME IN A BAD WAY. if i would have felt let a dang robot alien who didnt belong. maybe id be swimmin through the bog ever since.

thing is I LIKE ROBOT ALIENS they are very cool. doctor did not MAKE me different, i was different already, our talks just popped a nice little name on it for me to take or leave. i took the name proudly because DATA from stars trek (certified robot alien) is exactly how i already felt and dang what a cool character and dang what a great life. so was DAVID BYRNE. so was every cool buckaroo artist that i liked. cowboys are OUTSIDER HEROES and that is how my autism makes me feel.

so like i said, i do not know about YOUR way, but MY WAY of hearing this news was heaps of joy and excitement. i will also say that it is very DIFFICULT to find this reaction later if your first leap is feeling in a sad way about it. so maybe if you want to trot back in your mind to those first few steps it would be helpful. maybe mentally trot to where you were pushed off a dang cliff and think "well was i pushed off a cliff or was i just told 'hey bud youve been floating this whole time?"'

because if youve been floating then DANG thats a lot of power. thats not falling. you can float up, you can float down, you can float side to side.

the next thing i will say AS AND ARTIST is that years of toiling and feeling aimless are NEVER actually aimless when it comes to creation. and to LIVE in a human body is to be an artist, because you are CONSTANTLY CREATING the future. when i am writing and i dont have an idea for my next book that can be frustrating, but it is also PART of the process. if i walk to the store to rustle up my mind, or wander around the park, or spend a whole WEEK feeling weird because of writers block THAT IS ALL PART OF MAKING GREAT ART. that is not wasted time. in other words, your years of toiling are not wasted time, that is just the process we all have when we are creating a future masterpiece.

[stardewremixed]

Why does the Mayor send Robin to greet you at the Bus stop? What is he so busy doing that he can't be there right away? How would the Opening Scene play differently if another Stardew townie greeted you? What housewarming gifts/ advantages would you gain from someone else? Here are my little headcanons.

Marnie - she's the Mayor's secret girlfriend. Maybe he doesn't want to risk exposing this to the new farmer. However, I think it would be cute if you had a dog or a cat from Day 1 thanks to Marnie pointing out that the farm would be a great place for them to run around.

Caroline- She would encourage you to shop at her husband's store. An invite to her Tuesday aerobics class would be nice.

Pierre - He's a busy man running his store, but he might offer you extra seeds.

Demetrius - He would awkwardly show you around, and you'd have access to the farm cave on day 1 if you accept his offer to study the local bat population.

Robin - she's the vanilla choice but I'd like to think she gives you a storage chest.

Linus - the mountain man is shy but he is curious about the new farmer. He would bring some wild forage.

Marlon - Ah! The new adventurer! A rusty sword seems like the kind of welcome gift he would offer. (You don't gain access to the mines but monsters might spawn on the first night on the farm).

Gus - ah! A new farmer! This man is kindly bringing you a hot meal.

Evelyn and George - He would be like 'dagnabbit! Dragged me out here woman!' He can't exactly roll around easily on the farmland. She would be happy to make your acquaintance (and bring cookies, of course). George might give you a leek from Ev's garden.

Pam - She's driving the bus, right? She would mention it's normal for the mayor to run late. Let's crack open a pale ale.

Clint - Errr... hi... here is a sprinkler for your farm. (Makes a quick exit). (Or maybe an upgraded watering can).

Gunther - ah yes! Please help us replenish our museum. It is in a sad state. Here is a library card and a book about the history of the Valley.

Willy - Day 1 fishing pole! Oh yeah! (Super useful for the riverlands farm). If you're on another farm type, maybe just a fish).

Wizard - He finds you very... curious... and gives you the ability to understand Junimos (except who are they?). He smiles and says you will understand in time. And poufs! Where did he go?

Morris- beats Lewis to the bus stop, just barely and is out of breath. He gives you the Joja pitch early (and for today only, a discount if you buy a membership) but you wouldn't sell out, would you?

[spiderispunk]

2 A.M.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Smut (18+). Friends With Benefits. Oral Sex (m + f receiving). 69ing. Brief Assplay.

All mistakes are me own. Comments/reblogs are appreciated!!

You swore you were done with this. Done waiting for flirty 2 a.m. texts. Done with hastily packed duffle bags and sweaty trysts in wrinkled sheets. Done with walks of shame the next morning, the delicious ache between your thighs a reminder of all the dirty things you’d gotten up to in the past few hours.

Though, it can’t really be called a walk of shame if it felt so good, and you weren’t really ashamed, can it? And it did feel good to see your phone light up well past midnight with a corny text from Rooster.

Bradley.

The message from him lights up your bedroom now. Casts the room in a soft blue glow. You swipe open your phone, thumb hovering over the screen as you formulate a response.

You up? It reads. 

You roll your eyes. Those college tendencies had still not left him, even though he was 5 years removed from the Naval Academy, and considered one of the best pilots in the country. Hell, he’d flown an incredibly dangerous mission six months ago, and was still sending You up? texts. 

Typical Bradley. 

Maybe that’s part of his charm. The boyish air about him. Youthful confidence that borders slightly on cockiness. It reminded you of old times. Sneaking in and out of dorm rooms before the sun rose, quickies in-between classes. Cheap beer and dim, crowded basements. 

Maybe it’s the freedom and the mystery that draws you back to him. Rooster throws himself back into the orbit of your life every three months or so without warning. You fuck round for a couple weeks, and then he disappears into whatever Navy void he came from until the next time he swings back around. Like a horny comet. 

No feelings. No strings. Just the best sex you’ve ever had in your life…followed by the worst dry spell of your life. And a strange empty ache. You’d never admit it to his face– don’t want to inflate his ego anymore–but Bradley might have ruined other men for you. 

At least, that’s what you think now. Fresh off of involuntary abstinence and a super disappointing fuck.  

And so, even though you swore to yourself you’d be done with all this, you send a quick response. 

Yes :)

* * *

Bradley’s neighborhood is nice. A quiet line of almost identical brown townhouses with immaculate yards. Must be military. That would explain the harsh conformity, and the high concentration of American flags on the porches. 

All of the houses’ windows are dark, except for the one your car rolls to a stop in front of. 

Bradley throws the door open and pulls you inside before you can even knock.   

“Someone’s eager,” you tease, as you're crowded back against the door. 

Bradley’s hands come to rest on either side of your head. “No time like the present.” His soft brown eyes are full of mirth. 

He looks the same as he did a couple months ago. Same bright eyes and easygoing smile. It brings faint laugh lines to the surface of his freckled skin. He’s only wearing a pair of grey sweats, so the vast expanse of his body is laid bare before you. Your gaze traces the planes of tanned skin, from the solid muscle of his arms, to his chest and then down to the waistband that hangs low across his hips. 

“Like what you see?” Bradley ticks an eyebrow upwards. 

You roll your eyes, but you’d be a liar if you said otherwise. “Jesus you’re a walking cliche. You’re one ‘Come here often?’ away from a free membership to the Corny Club.” With great effort, you drag your gaze up from the glaringly obvious bulge at Bradley’s crotch, to his shining eyes. 

“Baby, I’m already a card-carrying member.” He leans in closer, and you catch a whiff of his body wash. “That’s my most effective pick up line.”

Vanilla and Sandalwood. The reaction is immediate, you want to bury your nose into his neck and breathe him in deeper.   

You suck in a deep breath. “Does it work?”

“You tell me,” Bradley whispers.

His parted lips brush yours, a teasing, barely-there kiss. You lean forward, chasing the touch of his mouth, but Bradley leans away, wearing a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Now who’s eager?” He teases.

You ignore him, and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him back to you. You had no problem going after what you wanted, something Bradley really liked about you. You thread your fingers through his hair and mold your lips to his. 

Bradley presses a hot groan into your mouth. His tongue licks against yours, testing the waters. He meets no resistance. In fact, you almost whimper, body melting against his. You feel the heat of his body against yours, even through the fabric of your t-shirt. It leaves your skin prickly, your nerves singed. 

One of his large hands leaves the door, and slides down the curve of your spine. His fingers slide over the waistband of your shorts, grabbing at your ass and trapping you against his body. Instinctively, you rock your hips against the thigh he’s placed between your legs. 

Funny how well the two of you meshed together, even after months apart.

The back of your head hits the door, a quiet moan falling from your lips at the sweet pressure. Bradley’s lips leave yours to trace open-mouthed kisses across your jaw and down your neck. He guides the greedy grind of your hips at a nearly torturous pace. 

“Fuck,” you whine when he nips at your pulse. You use the grip on his shoulders as leverage to get a better angle. 

Bradley watches you, eyes alight with amusement. “It’s that easy, huh?” 

“Shut up,” you groan. Your clit catches on the crease of his sweatpants so well, reducing you to a puddle. It’s good. It’s great even. But it’s not enough. 

“Nearly drooling for it,” he whispers. “When’s the last time you got laid?” 

The answer? It’s been a long fucking time since you’ve had good sex. Actually, if you had to actually count, it would be 137 days exactly: the last time Bradley was stateside. There was that guy from a few weeks back, but he’d jackhammered his way home in 3 minutes– a personal record even for bad lays– and hung you out to dry. You’d left that encounter missing Bradley more than ever. Even entertained the idea of sending him a text just in case he was back home.

“I said shut the fuck up.” You tug his bottom lip between your teeth and pull. 

Bradley moans, a deep rumble in the back of his throat. You smile victoriously, digging your teeth in a little harsher before letting go. Bradley’s eyes meet yours, widening a bit as his tongue traces over the indent your bite had left behind. 

His cheeks flush a ruddy red, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. “Shit,” he mumbles, and surges forward to kiss you again.   

Bradley’s everywhere. He pins your body back against the door. His lips slide over yours hungrily. Tongue pressing into your mouth as if he’s trying to bury himself inside of you. He rucks your shirt up to palm your breast. He squeezes, pinching your nipple between his middle and forefinger. The pain, the pleasure of it all almost makes you dizzy.

Brain foggy, and body keyed up to 11, you pull away from him. “Bradley,” you sigh, blinking rapidly as the world comes back into focus. 

Bradley noses at the underside of your jaw. “Mmm?” He presses soft kisses to your neck.

“We gonna take this to the bed? Or did you wanna fuck me up against the door?” 

He pretends to think about it for a moment. “Dunno. Door has its merits. I don’t have to move. And I can do this.” He shifts, rolling his thigh against your clit. 

A moan tumbles clumsily from your lips. “You can do that on the bed, and it gives us more room.” 

“Room to do what?” 

You tilt your head to whisper in his ear. “I could suck your dick...” 

Bradley chuckles. “You could do that here.”

“I could suck your dick while you eat me out.” You bite your bottom lip.

He pauses. A grin spreads across his face, lighting up his eyes. “Now that is a convincing argument.” 

“Yeah?” Your answering smile is just as wide. 

“Uh huh.” Bradley frees himself from your grip and takes a step back. He hooks a finger into the front of your shorts and tugs forward. “Just don’t come too early.” 

“Me?” You scoff, letting yourself be pulled forward. “What makes you think I’d do that?” 

“Yeah, you.” He guides you back through the townhouse with ease. “You just got finished humping me against the door.”

“Weren’t you the one who pinned me to the door as soon as I walked in?”

Bradley pushes the door to his room open and flicks on the light. “So?” 

“So, you’re just as riled up as me.” You lick your bottom lip. “If anything, you should be worried about…premature completion,” you finish awkwardly.  

Bradley tosses his head back and laughs. A deep, belly-aching guffaw. The rich baritone notes bounce off of the walls of his small bedroom. Warmth bursts in your chest and your heart leaps, in spite of the fact that you’re the source of his laughter. It’s infectious, bubbling up inside of you until it slips through the cracks of your smile, and pretty soon peals of your own laughter twine with his.

“‘Premature completion?’” He gasps, holding a hand to his chest. 

You punch his shoulder lightly. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry.” Bradley makes a show of wiping nonexistent tears from his eyes. “It’s just such a funny way of putting it.” 

“Rooster,” you snap.

He presses his lips together and makes an attempt at a somewhat serious face. It lasts all of three seconds before he’s laughing again. 

You cross your arms over your chest. “Well not all of us are as crass as you and your Navy buddies.”

“Sorry. It just makes ya sound like a science textbook.” 

“Fuck off.” You roll your eyes. 

Bradley’s laughter turns to quiet chuckles. “Okay, okay. No need to get so feisty. Even though I love it when you do.” He pulls you close and loops an arm around your waist. “I believe you were gonna show me the merits of a bed.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Now who sounds like a textbook?” Your finger traces over his lower stomach.

“Still you,” he answers cheekily.

You ignore his gentle ribbing. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” 

“You’re wearing more than I am.” He tugs at the waistband of your shorts. 

“Then you should fix that,” you say coyly. 

Bradley smirks. “I will.” He sits on his bed and beckons you forward. 

You move to stand between his spread legs and rest your hands on his shoulder. You’re immediately glad that you did, as Bradley’s lips latch onto your peaked nipple and suck on it through the fabric of your tank top. 

“No bra.” He mumbles against the growing wet patch. He looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes. 

You shake your head. “It’d just get in the way.” 

He hums under his breath. “It would.” His teeth tease your breast, skating over the sensitive skin. Bradley pulls your tank top down and switches to the other breast. His fingers lightly pinch and roll the nipple he’s not currently sucking on. 

You moan quietly, and slide your fingers into his loose curls. Bradley doesn’t need much encouragement. He’s greedy, eager. His lips smack against your breast, hot tongue sweeping out to taste your skin. Your knees grow weaker with each passing moment. Each swipe of his tongue. Each of his wrecked groans. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, burying his face into your chest and inhaling the scent of you. Jasmine and ginger. Your body is so fucking warm it drives him crazy. His dick hardens in his sweatpants. His pulse thuds loudly in his ears. He wants to be inside you. Needs it like he needs air. 

It’s been too long since he had you like this. Willing and pliant under his touch. Bottom lip trapped between your teeth as he touched you. Bradley’s lost count of how many times he’s gotten off to the thought of this moment. Memories he’d replayed over and over in his head as he stroked his cock. The echo of your soft cries in his ears as he came all over his hand. 

This, the real thing, puts all his daydreams to shame. 

Bradley’s unoccupied hand slowly slides up your inner thigh. His thumb flicks under your shorts, and he chokes when he meets, not the pesky lace he was expecting, but the softness of your wet pussy. 

“Jesus.” He inhales sharply. “No panties either?” 

You shrug, hoping to come off as nonchalant, even though your heart thuds in your chest. “They’d just end up on the floor.” 

“Are you trying to kill me?” He looks up at you, umber eyes eclipsed completely by desire. 

“I’m trying to fuck you,” you remind him. And then, growing impatient, you push him backwards onto the bed. “You’re always getting distracted,” you chide playfully, and pull your tank top over your head. “It’s a miracle you’ve managed to keep your plane up in the sky this long.” Your shorts are quick to join your top on the ground.  

Bradley grins up at you. “They don’t have distractions like you up in the sky. And it’s a good thing they don’t.” His dark eyes roam your body. “C’mere.” 

“Yes, sir!” You give him a mock salute and he rolls his eyes. 

The annoyed look melts away when you climb onto his lap. It turns into slack-jawed reverence when you grind your down against the obvious erection Bradley sports. His fingers grip your hips and he holds you tighter against him as he rocks up to meet you. A sweet groan escapes his parted lips. 

“I think,” you begin, walking your fingers up Bradley’s chest, “that I could make you come before you could make me.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“Trying to bait me into a bet? Us aviator’s don’t go down easy.” 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. And if I win, you have to,” you pause for dramatic effect, “let me be in charge the next time we see each other.” 

“Done.” He cocks his head to the side, that signature boyish grin etching dimples into his cheeks. “What if you don’t? What do I get if I make you come first?” 

“Well name your stakes, Lieutenant Bradshaw.” 

“When I win–” 

“If.” 

“When I win…” Bradley thinks for a moment, and then bashfulness flits across his face. “You have to let me take you out one night. And not to the Hard Deck either. Somewhere nice.” 

“Take me out? Like on a date?” You ask and he nods. Your breath catches in your throat. 

That’s not what this was. This was casual. A 2 a.m. text. Flirtatious banter. Sex to scratch an itch and a See you next time. Not expectations or permanence. Not dinner and a night on the town.

Then again…Bradley’s a good guy. He’s sweet, definitely easy on the eyes. He takes care of you in his own way. Makes you laugh until you cry, and you genuinely like being around him. Plus, he fucks you like none other. Can make you see stars with just his fingers and tongue. You can’t say that for most of the other guys you’ve been with before him or since. 

Would one date be so bad? It was just dinner, not a marriage proposal. Who knows, maybe something good could come out of it. Or, if it was terribly awkward, you two could just pretend it never even happened in the first place. 

You must hesitate too long, because Bradley shakes his head. “Forget it. I’ll do something else.” 

“No, wait.” You smile, and his expression lightens. “I’ll go out with you, Bradley.” You lean forward and kiss him sweetly. “But you gotta earn it first.”

A steely resolve settles over his face. Bradley cups your jaw, before you can pull away and slots his lips against yours. He moans into your mouth as his tongue licks against your bottom lip. You surge forward, opening yourself up to him, getting drunk on his kiss. It’s a messy, desperate clash of lips and teeth. Battling tongues and noses that bump against each other with the desire for more, more, more. 

More skin. More friction. More of each other. 

His large hand slides down your spine and squeezes your ass, rocking your hips against his crotch. You sigh at the sweet friction of your clit against his sweatpants. His cock, hard and pressed against your inner thigh, makes something heavy pool in your belly. It’s not long before your lips are moving down his body in search of it. 

You press open mouthed kisses across his jaw, down his neck and torso. Bradley groans above you, his hand pressing against the back of your head, and you can’t tell if he’s pushing you lower or trying to get your mouth back on his. Still, your lips continue their trek lower, over the planes of his stomach, to the carved lines of his hips. 

You run the tip of your tongue over the muscles that lead to his cock. The choked moan he lets out has you clenching your thighs as your clit throbs. You only get his sweatpants down a little more to kiss the top of his thighs, when the hand on your neck squeezes. 

“Wait,” Bradley chokes out. 

You look up at him, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. “Yes?” 

“You’re cheating,” he says, chest heaving.

You sit up and tug his sweats down his legs. “If all it takes is a few kisses to make you come, this is gonna be easier than I thought.” 

“You’re gonna need the head start.” He winks and taps his chin. “Get your ass up here.”

You raise up on your knees and turn slowly, wiggling your hips as you position yourself slowly. “Having second thoughts?” 

Bradley’s hand lands on your butt sharply. “Not a chance. I’m taking you to dinner.” He rubs the sting away with his large palm. “Fucking beautiful.” He pulls you right over his face. 

You hum, and wrap your hand around his stiff cock, feeling the weight of him in your palm. His breath hits your cunt in wrecked gasps, making you shudder. Under normal circumstances, you’d stroke him slowly, relishing his quiet groans. Watching his sanity slowly slip away. Teasing him until he got impatient and either begged for you or took matters into his own hands. 

But these are not normal circumstances. You have a job to do. 

You lean forward, mouthing at the base of Bradley’s cock. You run your tongue over every ridge and vein, from top to bottom. 

“Shit.” Bradley moans. “Fuck, that’s it.” 

This’ll be a piece of cake. With the way he’s moaning under you, Bradley will be coming in no time. You’ve got him hook, line and sinker. You can almost taste the sweet victory…and then Bradley recovers from the shock. 

He pulls your hips down onto his face and slowly drags the tip of his tongue from your clit to your entrance and back again. He hums at the taste of you, wrapping his lips around your clit and working at the nerves with a flat tongue. You can’t help it. You moan lowly, and rock your hips down onto his chin–all thoughts of the bet wiped clean from your mind. 

“Bradley,” you whine and drop your forehead against his thigh. 

Electricity races up your spine and you shudder. It’s almost overwhelming. Bradley knows your body too well. Knows all the things that have you careening towards the edge already. It’s embarrassing how worked up you are. Your toes curl against the pillows, and you try to will yourself to get a grip. At the very least, to stop helping him win. You swear you can almost feel his cocky grin against you. 

You might have bitten off more than you can chew. 

Bradley chuckles, and it snaps you back to reality. You won’t go down without a fight. 

You wrap your lips around his cock, matching the fervor with which his lips move against your cunt. You swallow him down, stroking what you can’t fit into your mouth. Your hand glides over his cock easily, aided by the mess of your saliva. 

His chuckles turn into a moan. You’re not out of this just yet.

It’s a desperate race. Hot and sticky. Fueled by desire and broken moans. Your bodies writhe against each other, hips lifting and pushing, seeking the warm embrace of lips and spit. Muffled groans and smacking sounds fill the room. 

But it can’t last forever, and you won’t last much longer.

You let his cock slip from your mouth and kiss down the shaft. Your hand keeps its steady rhythm, even as Bradley presses a finger into your entrance. Your lips travel over his thighs, teeth digging little marks into his skin. Then, slowly, gently, you suck on his balls. 

Bradley loses it. His hips buck up into your hand. He groans and pulls away to bite out a curse. Jesus. His head spins, and he swears he feels his soul leave his body for a moment. He breathes harshly through his nose, steadying himself. In. Out. In. Out. And then a second finger joins the first thrusting into you, and his tongue swirls around your clit once more. 

Your legs begin to tremble around his head, the tell tale sign of your orgasm. Holding yourself up has become a chore, and Bradley doesn’t let up. Determined to make you come. Determined to get that first date. But you’re just as determined to bring him to the edge with you.

He takes one of his fingers, slick from the warmth of your dripping pussy, and teases your ass. Pressing the digit into you just slightly. At the same time, Bradley slurps your clit back into his mouth. The combination is lethal, and it’s the breaking point.

You come with a cry that’s muffled by Bradley’s thigh. You rock your hips against his face wantonly as the embers turn into a wildfire. Bradley groans as you explode on his tongue. He works you through it, greedily kissing your clit while his fingers still fuck into you. Licking and sucking at your cunt until you’re an overstimulated puddle. Only then does he pull away with a filthy pop, and a harsh smack to your ass. 

You collapse onto the bed beside Bradley, and stare up at the ceiling. “Wow.” You can’t even be upset about losing, fucked out and sated as you are. 

You wait for the inevitable teasing, but it never comes. Instead, Bradley kisses your ankle, and rubs his thumb over your knee. Content to sit here with you in comfortable silence until your breathing has settled. 

When the rise and fall of your chest has finally begun to steady, Bradley breaks the silence, propping himself up on his elbows to grin at you. “Best two out of three?” 

[catierambles]

Alternate Instincts Ch.23

I deleted the first posting of this because I forgot Ch.22 and didn't want it to be out of order in the tag on my page. Chapter 22 has been posted btw

The move went relatively smoothly, Walter and Stephanie throwing out Frank’s old mattress and replacing it with his from the cabin. Other than that, he really didn’t have a lot of things that needed to be moved over. Sy would be living part time in Stephanie’s old apartment as it was technically his territory now, rotating spending a couple weeks there and a couple weeks in the cabin. The transition also went mostly well, the rest of the pack being understandably wary about being under the control of another male Alpha, but Mike assuaged their concerns telling them that Sy was not like Frank, not even remotely.

Sy had cleaned Frank out, taking almost all of the money in both his checking and savings. It wasn’t nearly the amount that he had originally taken from the pack, as he had blown most of it on high end electronics and other luxuries for himself, but banking information was taken down and what was left was divided up among the pack. Didn’t amount to much, in the end, but it was something and they could start to rebuild. Stephanie offered the use of her Costco membership card once they had a good buffer so they could get bulk essentials somewhere down the line.

Walter let her know that they had also “convinced” him to confess to the Council what he had been doing, and that Frank was now blacklisted from ever running a pack or owning territory. He would be set up with employment and a place to live in his hometown, his wages being garnished until the books were even, but then he was on his own. Sink or swim. Oddly enough, Stephanie and the others couldn’t bring themselves to care what ultimately became of him. Imagine that.

Stephanie lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Walter was sound asleep next to her, but she was wide awake. She could blame it on the new environment, different mattress, different sounds, but she knew it wasn't that. Everything was a little too...perfect. The guys were a little too...everything. Yes, August had his moments, but they were all a little too understanding, too supportive. It didn't feel real. It felt as if she were perpetually waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, or the sword to fall. Waiting for them to decide she wasn't what they wanted, that they were wrong about her being their Mate. They were mistaken, that this "shadow" inside her only made them think she was their Mate. Waiting for them to realize they didn't love her, not really, not truly.

Was it nice being with them? Understatement. They were incredible, even when August was being a donkey. Who would hurt her first, she wondered. August immediately came to mind, how they clashed at times when her mouth got away from her. No, not him. She’d see it coming with him. Sy? Maybe not intentionally. Mike seemed more the “hurt verbally not physically” type. Walter? He would need to be pushed. Geralt. Probably Geralt. He was too glacially calm all the time, his face nearly always an impassive mask, but he was capable of violence. He was a Tracker, he killed Ferals for a living. He’d snap, that glacial calm evaporating and then...

She sighed, running a hand over her face. She loved them, and they loved her, or so they said, but Jordan told her he loved her and that didn’t stop him.

But he’s a Feral. Said the voice of reason, but it was being drowned out by the voice telling her to run before they hurt her.

Walter turned over to face her, pulling her into his arms sleepily and burying his face in her neck.

“Love you.” He said and she felt like crying. Tears actually did sting her eyes, but she blinked rapidly to clear them. He must have felt something in the way she clung to him because his eyes opened, focusing on her in concern. “Love?”

“Please don’t be like him.” She nearly begged it and she watched his heart break just a little bit.

“Never.” He said, his hand coming up to hold the side of her jaw as he leaned in to kiss her. "Not ever." He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closed tight as she sobbed quietly.

Walter left her sleeping the next morning, easing the bedroom door closed as he dug his phone out of his sleep pants pocket, heading into the kitchen as he selected a contact.

“Yeah Walt.” Sy said when he picked up.

“Are the others there?” He asked and there was a pause.

“You’re on speaker.” Sy said.

“Steph, she—” He sighed, “She did a threat assessment on us last night. She told me after I got her through a panic attack.”

“She what?” Mike asked.

“Shit.” Sy sighed, “Who was at the top of the list?”

“Geralt.”

“What?” Geralt asked.

“August she would see it coming, be able to de-escalate before it got that far. Mike, you wouldn’t hurt her physically, but you would tear her down mentally.”

“No I wouldn’t!”

“Abuse response, Mikey, don’t take it personal.” Sy said.

“Markus, you and I would only after a lengthy argument.”

“Why me?” Geralt asked, his tone controlled.

“Because you’re calm.” Walter said, “And you would be calm until—”

“Until I wasn’t.” He finished.

“Yeah.” Walter said and Geralt gave a growling sigh.

“Fuck.” He said.

“I’m going to kill him.” August said, “Council wants him alive, but I don’t fucking care what they want. He dies next time he shows his face.”

“Get in line.” Geralt said.

“Haven’t we been—” Mike started. “I mean, things have been good, yeah?”

“Mike, I can fuckin’ promise you things were good with Lewis, too, in the beginning.” Sy said.

“And then they weren’t.” Mike said, “Shit. I need to go over there. I need to see her.”

“She’s still asleep.” Walter said.

“We’re comin’ over.” Sy said, “See you in a bit.” The call ended and Walter sighed, running his fingers through his curls before heading back into the bedroom. Sliding back into bed, he pulled her into his arms, tucking his face in her shoulder.

“Morning.” She said blearily.

“Morning.” He mumbled in return, “The others are on their way.”

“Okay.” She said, laying her hands on his arms. “You’re warm.”

"Do you want breakfast?" He asked but she shook her head.

"Not hungry." She said, "Just tired."

"Get some rest then, love."

Stephanie didn't know when she had drifted off again, but when she woke next, Geralt was in bed with her, holding her in his arms, his fingers running gently through her hair.

"Hey." She said and his lips pressed to her forehead.

"Never." He said, "Never hurt you."

"I know." She said simply, "It's just..."

"I understand." He said, "Sleep."

She drifted in and out of awake and asleep all day, and whenever she woke, someone different was in bed with her. To their credit, they didn't make moves on her, knowing that now was definitely not the time.

It was night when she woke again, Sy asleep next to her, his face half buried in the pillow as he lay on his stomach. She watched him for a bit before getting up gently, sliding out of bed and heading to the attached bathroom. Coming back out, she left the bedroom, the TV on in the dark living room but at a low volume. They were asleep, sprawled out on the floor or the couch, curled up in the recliner, the screen casting odd shadows on their faces as the images flickered across it. Take out containers, Chinese food, littered the living room and kitchen. Fried rice, lo mein, a couple different variations of chicken. There was an untouched container of chicken and mushrooms on the kitchen counter and she knew it was for her, as they knew it was her favorite.

She didn't deserve them.

They deserved someone better than her.

She needed air.

Slipping on her flats, she left the apartment quietly, heading into the breezeway that ran the length of the building. She knew she was overthinking it, she knew they weren't like him, that they wouldn't hurt her intentionally. That they would never hurt her, but she--

Pain blossomed from her cheekbone, sending her to the ground, her head bouncing off the concrete.

Mike snapped awake, looking around the apartment.

"Steph?" He called out, but there was no answer. Getting up, he went into the bedroom, but Sy was alone in bed. "Stephanie?" He went into the bathroom, but it was empty. The second bedroom that she and Walter were using as an office was also empty and dark, the computer turned off. "Steph?" A sinking feeling was building in his chest.

She breathed through the pain, hearing him walk around her.

"Oh, Stephanie." Jordan said, "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

[puhpandas]

video game headcanons for the fnaf kids:

Gregory and Evan play mario party together. Gregory will create made up beef with one of the CPUs if they ever cross him and he'll convince Evan to team up with him to pound them into the ground so they'll lose

Gregory would be an animal jam kid. he would be one of those super rich nonmembers that somehow got a ton of rares and cant wear any of them. he uses the tiger or bunny and the colors on it look like glamrock freddys colors. he'll invite Cassie to his den and she'll have a membership and a cute pink/purple avatar. Cassies den is beautifully decorated and she collects pets to put in their own corner

Gregory, Evan and Cassie play animal crossing. Cassie plays and knows the process of project KK like the back of her hand and can complete it in no time. she grinds to get all of the cute items and villagers and will have a bunch of island themes and reset when shes finished to make another. she loves her villagers and only likes the cute ones. she for sure made a raceway island once with Vivian as her fave

Evan plays animal crossing and will just chill. he has no intense goals or interests he just has a completely normal looking island and will take any villager he gets and love them and be nice to them. he completes his daily nook mileage tasks every day and will say hi to his villagers, and then probably fish

Gregory doesnt care about how his island looks. he kind of cares about his villagers but not if they get in the way (or he makes up imaginary beef with them). theres trash and items all over his island and hes wearing the ugliest outfit you've ever seen. all he does is catch bugs and fish and dig for fossils. he only cares about the museum, so he'll grind nook miles to get tickets to visit deserted islands. since he doesnt care about clothes or items he has TONS of bells and likes to see how many he can wrack up with no cheating. they all visit eachothers islands and Cassie always gives Gregory a better outfit when she visits, and Evan will give Gregory golden tools

they all play roblox. Gregory uses his canonical computer skills to create an amazing roblox game and it always has tens of thousands or more players in it and he has tons of robux and limiteds. he plays FPS games and trading games and always had value lists bookmarked on his computer

Cassie has a cute well put together avatar (probably with some UGC roxy item, like maybe her plushie in a bag), and she plays Gregory's game all the time. they always team up and fight with people in drama games and get them voted out.

Evan has an account, but hes just a bacon hair with no robux. it looks like hes a noob but if you go to his account his join date is years earlier. he plays calm games like any simulator or hello kitty cafe, or trading games. he doesnt have a computer so he can only play on his phone. hes actually good at FPS games, but his phone hinders him a lot. he uses a sniper so he can just find a position and use his fast reflexes to get people that way

Gregory Evan and Cassie will play roblox together and Gregory has to use his alt (his alt has robux and hes wearing a shirt that says I'm with stupid->). theyll play things like Outlaster and Gregory and Cassie will cook up some drama with some random player and Cassie will use her tons of items to use vote cards and stuff like that on them.

Gregory is super cracked at the game and wins every game almost instantly. nobody can go up against his GGY skills and everybody hates him for it and targets him. Evan cant move well enough on his phone to be super good at the parkour, and he doesn't want to be mean to anybody, but he pulls through at the end and tells someone off for being mean to Gregory and wins them the game by using one of his items on the Gregory hater during elimination

Gregory and Cassie play splatoon, but Evan doesnt have a switch to play with them. Gregory mains duelies and will be that guy that goes in your spawn and kills you with his cracked skills (only in turf war tho, he has honor). if evan did have a switch, he would main the e-litre and/or the splat roller.

if he used the elitre, gregory would leave his position as a spawn camper to come back and guard Evan while he gets kills. if evan used the splat roller, he would be perfectly content using the roll feature to ink any turf behind the battle (and somehow roll people over in the process lol)

Cassie likes to hide in ink and kill people. she'll get a weapon with squid beacons and hide in a corner on top of one, so when someone comes to break it she'll jump out and kill them. she thinks its hilarious every time

that's all I got for now. thinking about these guys being normal kids is so fun their group could be so funny lol

[strayheartless]

I Am ThInKiNg AbOuT ThE FAN CLUBS AGAIN!!

Specifically naming them. Like I know Sephiroth’s fans get the silver elite, which I like but whenever I see the red leather fan club for Genesis I’m like “Absolutely not. Where is the poetry, the flavour!”

So here have this!:

Personally I think Genesis’ fans would be known as the ‘Crimson guard’. Why? Because its dramatic as fuck. Gen is absolutely the kind of person who trade marks his jacket colour; or at least the Rhapsodus estate does for him. And I feel like his fans exude early 2000s vampire fans. Like they’ve either read loveless and cite it as THE piece of literature; or they haven’t read it but STILL site it as seminal reading.

The Crimson guard wear red in all their outfits. They all have an earring they never take off instead of a club card or whatever. They are obnoxiously debating the subtlety and meaning of that one look Genesis have the camera in Junon. They are insufferable.

Angeals fans are called ‘The honourable few’ because their isn’t as many of them but the ones there are are Loyal as fuck. Genesis named them (as founder of the club, shhhhhh) and likes interacting with them more than his fans.

Angeals fans are very passionate about defending Angeals place in the trinity and there’s a nice balance of men, women and other identifying people in the club. They hold fundraisers for causes Angeal cares about, and run support classes to help each other with their dreams and honour. It’s a very accepting community and concentrates on being accessible and friendly.

The ‘Silver Elite’ are mostly male, and also very toxically straight. Sephiroth hates the fan club with a burning passion. The fandom he’s fine with, but the official fan club he despises. There is absolutely a difference between the two. The fan club makes itself out to be inaccessible to anyone who isn’t ‘of worthy status’ and gives off major toxic fraternity vibes. Cloud has a membership card but doesn’t actually attend meeting because it really wouldn’t be safe for them.

The silver Elite fandom however, are just REALLY avidly obsessed with how pretty Seph is. The fandom is also more LGBT friendly and get along well with the crimson fandom who are also vastly different from the club.

Zacks fan club is honestly the most wholesome. The fandom and the fan club are one in the same with Zack. They are called ‘The Zoomers’ and yes Zack did choose that name himself.

They are openly LGBTQIA+ friendly, basically everyone is neurodivergent, and there’s a big focus on having fun and achieving goals. Zacks fans find him super inspirational and they have an ongoing fund for neurodivergent causes. They do meet ups and plan days out; there’s a community page where you can find likeminded fans to go do fun stuff with. They are honestly the best.

Their only major flaw is maybe being a little too protective of Zack. They can get quite vicious if Zacks character is called into question. And both Cloud and Aerith have had a little bit of shit for being close with him. But generally the majority of the fandom also jump to the defence of Cloud and Aerith when it happens and call out the people being mean.

Cloud also may have a Zoomer club card but he will NEVER tell Zack!

[rebuke-me]

writing prompt jenna and brooke being (awkward) friends 👀👀

i like to think this takes place their sophomore year or so, before the events of the musical. their friendship is so messy to me i love them dearly

They’d all planned on going to the movies, and Chloe Valentine bailed at the last minute for a boy.

It wasn’t uncommon, really, for that to happen. Chloe liked to make plans, then cancel them on a whim. Jenna was convinced it was a power trip thing. Or maybe Chloe just genuinely didn’t care a single bit about her friends. Either one was entirely possible. 

Jenna sat in Brooke’s mom’s car, staring at her phone. Chloe hadn’t texted. 

“She posted on her story and she’s super clearly in Jake’s room.” Jenna said, looking over at Brooke, who sighed. 

Brooke was nice. She was a bit ditzy, sure, she didn’t really know what to say most of the time, but she listened to Jenna’s gossip. But they almost never hung out, just the two of them, without Chloe there. 

“Well, um. I can take you home, then.” Brooke said, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, looking over at the movie theater. Jenna didn’t want to see the movie at all. She’d mostly agreed to get the hell out of her house and stop feeling like such an outsider. Which had failed miserably. 

For a moment, Jenna imagined what it’d be like to just hang out with Brooke for a day. Go get fro-yo. Talk about boys neither of them really cared about. Laugh at memes on each other’s phones. Get their nails done and braid hair and do whatever else girls did when they hung out with each other. 

But the awkward air made her feel like she was being looked at under a microscope. Not even by Brooke, because the other girl didn’t seem like she even noticed that Jenna was there, much less her finer feelings. 

“Do you wanna go get fro-yo instead? Pinkberry has a two for one toppings sale for people with a membership card.” Brooke said, just as Jenna opened her mouth to agree to going home. 

Jenna looked at her for a moment, before she gave a small smile. “Yeah. I think fro-yo sounds… really good right now.” She said. “And I can tell you all about who I saw Dustin hooking up with at Chloe’s last party-” Brooke grinned. “Oh my god. Please tell me it’s juicy.” “The hottest gossip. I promise.” And if she felt a sort of twinge of guilt about talking about something neither of them really, truly cared about, she shoved it away. Fro-yo would fix the roiling in her stomach. 

[shirosanshi]

hiya! 18 and 29 for the ask game please

i really wanna know what you’ll choose 🌻

Aaaah, thank you for these two :3 Well my answers are going to be from Gazette band fanfics, bc that's what I deal in... I hope you don't mind!

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic? I think it has to be this one, from Songs For The Drawer (although depending on what device you are using to read it's a bit more than one line :D): Yuu recognized the song from the scribbles on the back of the paper. It was a painful one from around the time he wanted to quit the band. It was a cry for help, a confession, a self-depriving monologue, but at the end, just like all the other maybe six dozen papers lying on the floor, it was a love letter in the form of a song, one he wrote to Kouyou long-long years ago.  29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. Okay, here's Aoi as a dominant shibari rope master preparing for a night at the BDSM Club he attends... (GazettE fans, pls scream at me if you want this one to be published because I have some work to do on it, but I'd fucking LOVE a reason to make myself complete it.)

The Hunter

The second Saturday of the month. It was always the second Saturday of the month, and it was always the same like someone had written a script for the event. Maybe they did. Starting at nine in the evening, closing at three in the morning, six rooms and a colour coded identification system. You have to wear something nice, maybe something you would not go out to the street in. And you have to arrive with a clear mind and clean body, devoid of any influence. Take your equipment with you if you want, but there will be plenty to use there too. No cameras allowed. If you haven't uploaded a lab result of being STI free in that month to the website yet, you can’t attend…

Yuu knew all the rules by heart, and listing them in his head before leaving his condo was a way for him to get in the right headspace. There were two scenes planned tonight and an instruction session in the Daybreak room. He had to be on top of this. He took one gaze at his reflection in the full body mirror next to the door, noting how the black leather pants were hugging his thighs, the way the soft material of his dark shirt was outlining his upper body, stretching a bit on his chest. He flicked the top two buttons open. No fancy costumes this time, he wanted to be comfortable and be able to utilize his body’s movements to the fullest. With a sigh, he grabbed his bag and his keys and went down to the garage to begin the hour-long drive to the outskirts of the city, where he was to find Flame, the club he was heading to. 

Soft jazz filled the interior of the car on his ride, it always helped heighten his senses and sharpen his focus, but this time his head was a bit fuzzy.

“Get your shit together, Aoi” he muttered as he exited the car seventy minutes later, and headed for the entrance of the club. He presented his membership card to the bouncer and asked for a yellow wristband, as usual. Yellow meant not taken, but not looking for anything in particular either. Yellow meant come and talk to me, but yellow also meant I don’t want anything from you. Yellow was a colour not many wore in this place.

He arrived precisely on time and headed for the prep room in the back. Some heads turned after him in the hallway, some averted their eyes shyly. He had no problem with either. Sitting down in one of the secluded corners of the prep room, he took out his equipment and meticulously checked every inch of it. No chafing of the ropes, no ends left unsealed, everything clean and ready as it should be. Each and every inch of rope sliding through his fingers was like a soothing balm to his nerves, and when he reached the end of his task he relaxed and had all the confidence he needed.

[darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght]

Chapter 11- Part 8

Growth and Mega Drain should be enough to handle one little Happiny, right?

…Uh…this’ll be fine, I think. Like, sure, she’s trying to switch out Happiny for Stufful, but that’s not really working out-

See? Now, it’d be nice if the Stufful didn’t somehow live that attack, but I’ve already said more than enough about my luck regarding the damage rolls, so let’s just try to finish the job with Magical Leaf.

I said, let’s try to finish the job with Magical Leaf!!

Anyways, she’s gonna send out Happiny again, and while Bloom can possibly still beat it, I’m just gonna switch into Glare purely out of spite.

Screech and Crunch, please!

Honey, you have no idea who you’re talking to (referring to myself, not Xera, Xera’s status as a gamer is dubious at the moment).

No ma’am, and we probably won’t see it until towards the end of the game. But I would like to see what’s further down this street, because I have yet to find any hidden items.

For example: this rock hidden back here! Very inconspicuous, seems like a prime location to hide something…

Boom, I was right! And that is a VERY good item indeed, because the Cotton Candy- one of the things you can buy at Sweet Kiss- works as a Revive substitute! 

Our first revival item in this game so far, and it came from a random rock on the street- I wouldn’t have expected anything else.

Sooo, further down the street, we’ve got more broken infrastructure-

So much brokenness, in fact, we can’t read that street sign, such a sad state of affairs. :(

Well, at least this Red Shard makes up for it a little bit.

Now, doesn’t seem like we can go into the building right up there, so let’s take a look at the Department Store instead!

Mm, more mention of Stickers- I remember someone in Grand Hall saying something about a Tangela Sticker or something, but I have yet to do anything with that information, so let’s just talk to the ladies up front, see if they say anything of note.

I think I’ve gathered the basic gist, but…yeah, let’s hear it. Maybe this’ll give us a membership card of our own!

I like how they say they ‘developed’ a membership system as if membership systems don’t already exist in several places- although, given the idealistic state of the rest of the Pokémon world, I guess a membership program would be a pretty uncommon thing.

Previous

Next

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 61: Dreams Delaying

TUESDAY - WINTER 16

The past few days had felt like a dream.

True to his word, the evening after Elliott’s book reading Achilles had purchased two center orchestra seats for Persephonopolis and had made a reservation at the third nicest restaurant in Zuzu City (third because he didn’t want to go too overboard on Date #2). 

Alex had indeed found a tie, though by covering nearly the whole damn thing with a burgundy quarter zip, he hadn’t been quite as overdressed as Achilles—who had fully committed to their “fancy” theme—had anticipated.

Well. Alex had at least liked his suspenders. He supposed the compliment was a worthy enough consolation prize for sticking out like a sore thumb at the Grannis Theater—half the folks sitting around them were wearing sweatpants. Sweatpants! And in such a lovely auditorium, too—pastel murals of Grecian figures had adorned the ceiling, and ornate floral carvings trimmed in gold and sage green had greeted them as they took their seats of cushioning plush. 

It wasn’t the splashiest spectacle of musicals—a little dark, more than a little sad—but the music was good and the set and lighting design extraordinary. And Alex had been bright-eyed throughout, had jumped to his feet, cheering like a child the moment curtain call began, so it was clear he had enjoyed it enough, which was really all anyone could have wanted. They’d grabbed some late night ice cream before taking the bus back. Achilles had walked him home. It’d been a good night. 

And late Tuesday afternoon, during the tail end of the work day, Achilles had popped over to Zuzu again. His excuse had been to sign up for a membership with Orange Grove, after allegedly having forgotten to the previous day, but Alex had seen clear through him. 

“You’re never going to use this, you hate working out in front of other people.” 

“Maybe I’m signing up to make your numbers look good, ever thought of that, Mr. Manager?” 

Alex only laughed as Megan, who was manning the front desk today, snapped Achilles’ photo. 

“But you picked our most expensive plan,” she couldn’t help but remark as she glanced at his freshly printed, iridescent membership card before handing it to Achilles. He straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the counter and slipped it into his wallet before pointing a thumb at Alex’s turned back.  

“Oh did I? Guess that’s just how much I care about this bitch’s numbers.” 

Though perhaps he was doing too much… Then again, even before they’d been dating, they had seen each other practically every day—there was nowhere else to go in that regard, so surely what he was doing now, the “extra”of it all, was only natural. Only expected. What more else could he do? He wanted to be supportive. Really, it was just a natural part of the transition from friends to… whatever the hell they were right now. Right?

And besides, what else was Achilles doing with his life these days? Why not get out of town for a bit. Spend money. He’d nothing else better to do…  

Don’t think about that. 

It’s not like he was just aimlessly loitering, waiting around for Alex. He’d brought a book. He’d brought a notebook. He had taken care not to distract Alex—who, outside of teaching the occasional class, now spent most of his time in the back office—from his job, though there were only a few minutes left in the work day, anyway; he had timed his visit well, Alex would be heading to the pool soon. He had planned to read and keep Alex company for a couple hours while he trained.

Legs pulled tightly against his chest, Achilles found himself sitting atop one of three lounge recliners once 5:10pm hit. The white fluorescent lights above were nice and bright, and he managed to get through a good portion of his book, but even so, his eyes were repeatedly drawn away from the pages in his lap to the muscled figure in the water.

Just like back in the Summer out in the Gem Sea, it was almost meditative watching him swim—Alex was obviously no amateur; he moved with a seasoned, steady strength and confidence that Achilles could never hope to replicate, arms smoothly slicing freestyle through the water like a hot knife through butter. 

At the opposite end of the pool, he saw Alex pause, chest heaving. He gripped the wall with one hand and lifted his goggles with the other as his coach bent down to speak with him.

Achilles followed their gazes to the massive digital clock on the opposite wall. 49.93 seconds. Not bad. Not bad at all. He knew Alex was hoping to get below 49 by the end of next summer. 

But he found that his vicarious thrill was dulled by something a little more sour, a little more grey; he should’ve been excited, seeing Alex’s obvious joy in finally being able to make strides towards his goals, but instead, Achilles couldn’t help but feel… wistful.  

Selfish. 

He shoved the feeling aside and forced himself to return to his book, though he found himself reading the same sentence twice more than an occasional time. 

But afterwards, in the empty locker room, he’d forgotten his melancholy. He’d tousled Alex’s damp hair, and Alex had kissed him on the cheek, and together they had ridden the bus back to the Valley and he had once more felt like gold. 

Yes, the past few days had felt like a dream. A good dream—a great dream! Yes, he had been feeling great. Feeling absolutely amazing. Feeling better than he had all year. 

Until he didn’t.

[sunsoakedhighhopes]

Captain America issue #5, Case #3 - Killers of the Bund

In this issue, a group of German Nazis (I say German, because of course, there are American Nazis, and those are actually the most commonly featured Nazis in these comics) have started terrorizing prominent German-American citizens who refuse to join their ranks.

So, here's something that I think is historically interesting. We have a panel of Bucky and Steve musing that German-Americans are nice people, despite the war with Germany that's happening in Europe. This is reinforced in the MCU with the first scene between Steve and Erskine when we see Erskine almost tense up when Steve comments on him being German, and his later relief when Steve expresses that he isn't going to judge him.

And I understand the difference here, between this and what is about to happen to Japanese-Americans in this country just six months after this issue released. Because Erskine, and Bob Shmidt aren't just German-Americans, they are also German Jews who fled Germany. But I do think it's interesting, because I don't think we are likely to see this sentiment expressed by Steve about Japanese-Americans in the coming issues. I don't know. It will be interesting to see.

Okay, so one of Bucky's friends, Bob Shmidt, and his family are from Germany, and the Nazis have attempted to recruit his father for something. When he refuses, they beat him up and he ends up in the hospital. Bob runs to inform his friend Bucky what happened, which is very fortuitous, since, you know, Bucky is secretly bff with Captain America.

Yeah, you are Steve. Go get em!

Steve and Bucky sneak into the Nazis compound -- or, rather, they attempt to sneak in.

Bucky, how did you not see the bucket before you stepped in it? Okay, well you know how it is. If you can't sneak in, then you'll just have to fight your way in.

Steve and Bucky fight off a literal battalion of Nazis, and I didn't grab the panel, but Steve says, "You've had enough, eh? You're pretty brave until someone stands up to you and fights!" and that just feels like a very Steve line to me.

So, Steve and Bucky leave the Nazis in a pile of beat-up flesh, tell them to never threaten anyone again, and leave. I mentioned in my last post that Steve typically doesn't kill the enemies -- and I want you to hang onto that thought until later in this post -- and he says, "Well, we're going now. We never hit men when they're licked -- We're not Nazis! -- but we'll be back! The time has come for Americans to teach you a lesson! We'll be seeing you!"

Now, there's this thing in the middle of every issue, where kids could send in a dime and join Captain America's Sentinels of Liberty. Basically, they just got a membership card in the mail. it was a way for kids to feel like they were a part of the fight along with Steve, and I think they maybe actually did hold meetings (but those meetings were really just, like Captain America fanclub meetings).

I've talked previously about how Bucky works as a stand-in for the audience, but I swear I read somewhere, though I have to admit I cannot find the source again, that the Sentinels of Liberty was actually a means of propaganda in its own right, because kids would talk to their parents about how they were fighting Nazis, and how their parents should fight Nazis, too. Essentially it was a means to drive support for America getting involved in the war. Don't quote me on that, as I cannot find my source, but I swear I read this somewhere, and I think this case is really interesting if you view it through that lens.

Anyway, the Sentinels of Liberty exist in the comic itself (though this is the first time we've seen them -- again, let that thought hang out in the back of your mind a bit), as well, and are meetings where kids gather to talk about how they can help in the fight against Nazis. Like, literally join in the fight against Nazis.

Bucky of course, is the leader of one of these groups, and he holds a meeting the next day (yes, with fellow small children) where he instructs the members to find the location of other Nazi hideouts and report back so that Captain America can mop them up -- not that Bucky knows how to contact Captain America, because secret identity or something (?) -- but no one questions this apparent flaw in the plan.

Also, y'all, there is a picture of the group, and there is one black child in the group, and y'all.... the art.... ooof. That's all I can say. It's bad.

Okay, so these small children start spying on literal Nazis -- which I mean, look, you do what you gotta do, this was probably actually happening in Germany -- but as a means of propaganda, it is kinda a lot. Bucky happens to overhear two Nazis talking about how, at that precise moment in time, there are some other Nazis on their way to "take care of Captain America". Bucky runs back to camp to warn Steve...

...but it's too late because Steve is already missing.

I'm honestly not clear on whether the presumption is supposed to be that they took him from his tent (or at least camp) since they shouldn't actually know where to find him -- since secret identity and all -- but hold that thought, because the plot holes in the secret identity thing are big enough to drive a van though in one of the upcoming cases.

Anyway, where is Steve? Steve is passed out and being manhandled by a bunch of Nazi men.

Note that he is in his uniform, which would mean that he was taken as Captain America and not as Steve. But still...

Okay, so they knocked out Steve with some sleeping gas of their own invention, tied him up, and then we get this exchange.

Steve! You are a menace. Also I love how absolutely nonchalant Steve is, because then they tell Steve that they're going to use the sleeping gas to knock out the whole town and then take it captive. And then they quickly discover that they probably should have kept that detail to themselves, because this upsets Steve a great deal, and we get this:

Like, I am absolutely enamored with the fact that Steve was like "Okay, I'll stand here and pretend like you actually have me captured because it amuses me and I have clever quips about it" and then he's just like, okay, now I'm done pretending, and completely wipes the floor with all of them.

I mean, they didn't even successfully have him tied up (score one for Steve bondage fics where he breaks his bondage when he gets bored with it).

The Nazis run for their planes, and we canonically have Steve being able to fly a plane.

Also.... remember how I was like, Steve typically doesn't kill the villains.... yeah, that all changes here, where he literally does go target them and hunt them down.

Which is.... interesting, I think? The US didn't join the war until four months after this issue was released. Yes, ostensibly we joined the war because of Pearl Harbor, but things had decidedly been moving in that direction before Pearl Harbor. I just feel like we can track the overall feelings about the war and the Nazis by how Steve handles them at any given point in time during his run.

After he shoots down all the Nazis, and has a fist fight with one of them on the wing of an airplane (hello, Indiana Jones) he lands back on the ground where he meets Bucky, who tells him that the members of the Sentinels of Liberty (and their fathers) have gone to raid the Nazi hideout where they went before. Yes, again, literal children show up at the Nazi camp with a bunch of sticks and start kicking Nazi ass. And then Steve shows up and the Nazis flee.

Later Bob Shmidt's father turns up at camp to thank Steve for taking care of Bob when he was in the hospital (uh.... Steve did not take care of Bob while his father was in the hospital, he was off fighting Nazis.... with Bob! ... but anyway...)

Steve! Actually I think this is kind of sweet. He wants to reassure them that Captain America knows they appreciate what he does.

And Steve somehow manages to avoid KP-duty this time. May miracles never cease.

[lesaltywarlock]

A Regular Day For Griffin Fogarty

A story about how Griffin Fogarty met a Demon. 

I was working on Griffin’s profile when I thought about this fic I made a while ago, detailing the story of how he met his Servant. I want to make similar stories for the rest of the Masters as well, but...well, I’ll get to that eventually.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What a beautiful day, ain’t it? The sun’s shining, the birds are chirping, and the car exhaust is as rotten as it was the day before.

“What a beautiful day.” Griffin Fogarty repeated his inner monologue, only questioning his sanity for a few seconds before sitting up. Reaching his arms up above his head to stretch, he promptly banged his knuckles on the metal roof of the van he called home. He recoiled and rubbed his mildly sore hands. “Jesus, I really need to stop doing that.”

Seriously, there were indents from how often he’s done that. 

To start off the day, he did his morning routine as anyone would. He neatly folded his thin blanket and placed it on the upper right corner of his mattress before throwing open the van’s back doors and slipping on some gym shoes. Griffin hopped out onto the blacktop of the gas station parking lot to go buy some breakfast. 

The familiar jingle of digital bells greeted him when he entered, along with the bored expression of the clerk at the door. An old Italian woman, with a voice ragged and scratchy from years of smoking, but she was kind and gave him free reign of the drink machines. 

“Hey, Griffin.” They said, just like always, with a heavy accent. “Just the usual?”

“Yes, please! Oh, actually I just got paid yesterday, so I might be able to splurge a bit more this time.” He placed down a crumpled up ten dollar bill with a cocky grin. “I’ll actually pay for my coffee this time. 

The woman’s name tag reflected the morning sun into his eyes, displaying her name. Janice. She smiled at him, perhaps the first expression of interest she’s made today. “Really, now? Why don’t you use it for something better.”

He denied it at first, but she kept insisting, so he eventually relented. Griffin roamed the three short aisles of snacks and occasional premade meals before choosing out some trail mix, a salad, and a Gatorade for when he gets thirsty. There weren’t many options he could choose when it came to meals, as most of them contained meat, but he’s grown to like what little he had. He also got his usual coffee order, adding as much cream and sugar as humanly possible in the tall paper cup filled with slightly burnt vanilla flavored coffee. 

Janice scanned his things and handed him his precious change before they bid their farewells. Today was a weekday, and he only got gas on Sundays. He hopped into the ripped up, sun bleached driver’s seat of his van and sped off into the city he’s memorized like the back of his hand. 

The gym was his first stop, as always, where he greeted the man at the front desk who only worked Mondays before heading off to his usual round of machinery. He had no need for exercising this frequently every morning, but it was a nice way to get him energized and ready to take on the world. 

Also, gyms had showers, and since he didn’t exactly have a home, a corresponding gym membership would allow him to use said shower all he wanted. Which he did, for maybe a good thirty minutes afterwards. 

Today was an off day for him. The past few days have been off days for him, mostly because he couldn’t find work after being let go from his old job, and it was rare for anyone to come to him of all people for appliance maintenance or locksmithing no matter how much he advertised it online. The only exception was yesterday, when he miraculously snagged a job helping someone locked outside of their home. 

After changing into much cleaner and less sweaty clothes in his van, he then drove to the local library. Having a library card was also a much needed expense since they had free wifi, computers, and, of course, books! Grabbing his old backpack that was practically ripping apart from years of use, he headed inside and plopped onto his usual spot at one of the many wooden long tables inside. 

Griffin was still a student after all, taking a few online classes over the summer partly for fun and to finish off some electives he missed before. School was difficult, but having a full ride made things a bit easier, or at least it motivated him enough to keep trying for at least a B+. Without it, he’d probably have gone into debt which he sure as hell didn’t need when he didn’t even have a home.

His stomach’s incessant growling signaled the end of today’s work session. As he left the library and navigated through the parking lot, he mentally tallied up the money he had saved up along with the number of places to eat at. In the end, he decided on his favorite taco truck that was always close to where some of his friends lived. It was hard being on the streets as a vegetarian, but the owners of the truck were kind enough to start making vegetarian options for him. 

He was about to start the engine when he noticed a slip of paper peeking out from the lower left corner of his windshield. Griffin stared at it for a few seconds before fear ran through his spine. He let out a defeated sigh and got out to retrieve the ticket. 

“Come on, New York, what the hell did I do wrong this time?” He groaned and pushed the door open with his foot. “Seriously, you see a guy living in a van and think he’s a criminal or something….”

When he grabbed the ticket, he was surprised to see that it very much wasn’t a ticket. In fact, it was a parchment adorned with a golden eagle wax sealing. After peeling it off, he opened it up and read a fancily written letter. 

To the head of the Fogarty family, 

Fortune smiles upon you today, oh fallen blacksmith. You, whose family has all but perished, have been given a chance at redemption. The Holy Grail of legend, an all powerful wish-granter, has been planted in New York City. You and six other Mages shall conduct a ritual known as a Holy Grail War, in which you summon a familiar, a phantom of the past, at your side and defeat your fellow Mages so as to win ownership of the Grail. Only one Master and Servant will win this. If you search the back of your van, you will find the materials needed to start the process, however, a catalyst to help assist with summoning your Servant is not provided. Perhaps you already own one, as the heir to a family of talented armorers. 

Good luck, 

- Quentin Rambert

“What the fuck?” Griffin exclaimed aloud, turning the heads of a family entering the library and causing the parents to glare at him. His face heated up, and he yelled out, “sorry!”

Obviously, they didn’t care about his apology, and the kid didn’t care at all about what he said either.

He turned his attention back to the parchment in his hands, which weighed as much as the world itself. A chance to wish for anything he desired, and all he had to do was kill six other people and their familiars. 

Griffin wasn’t unfamiliar with the idea of killing someone, though he never did. He was still a Mage, and his pride as a Mage still burned within him no matter how long it’s been since he lost everything so many years ago. Nonetheless, he was still inexperienced, and he lived in a van of all things. If anyone found out, he’d be better off as death fodder. 

But…there was still a chance for him to win, right? All he needed was his familiar to fight with him and a catalyst to help summon them. 

He crawled into the back of the van through the driver’s seat and found a duffel bag containing another large parchment containing a summoning circle, the directions and incantations to summon the Servant, and an address. 

After looking it up on his phone, he discovered it was an old abandoned store in a practically barren part of town. It looked shady, but then again, most Mages were. 

Griffin weighed the odds, but he began to imagine seeing his family’s faces again. His mother’s kind smile and his father’s tough gaze that always encouraged him to succeed. He shut his eyes and pictured that scene countless times before coming to an answer. 

“Alright, Quentin. I’ll accept this offer of yours.” 

The only problem, of course, was a catalyst. Some item meant to help summon this Servant of his own. Considering he was homeless and also very poor, there wasn’t much that he had much less could use as a catalyst. 

But then a thought popped into existence in his mind. He hoisted the mattress off the floor of the van revealing a garbage bag filled with mementos of his past protected by bubble wrap. After rummaging through family pictures, documents, and some personal keepsakes from his parents, he found it. The first sword he ever made that earned his family’s approval, and it was the start of his journey as a Fogarty before it all came to a screeching halt. He sold a lot of his tools that came after that for money, but he could never quite let go of this one. The blade itself wasn’t perfect, with the edges slightly jagged and starting to rust from years of being hidden away. Even the pommel was barely attached to the hilt, and the leather sheath it was in had started to rot away.

But it was his, and maybe it could give him some badass Servant to boot. 

He drove to the address on the paper, only getting lost once trying to take a shortcut along the way. Eventually, he arrived at the empty square and headed inside past the cracked nonfunctioning automatic doors. 

Either a storm passed through it or a fight broke out, because the whole place was wrecked and filled with debris. A long gash wrapped around the entire store, with overturned shelves and carts all slashed in half in a manner that looked way too clean to be anything natural. Obviously, none of this was natural, but….

“You’ve accepted our invitation, then?”

The shadows spoke in a shrill, cocky voice. Emerging from the darkness came a young man several inches shorter than him. He was dressed in a black suit lined with gold, and the insignia of an eagle was branded on his shoulder. The man strutted his way over to Griffin, staring straight at him with green eyes shimmering with some sort of electricity. Smoothing his dirty blond hair back, he remarked, “call me Quentin. I’m the heir to—”

“The Rambert family. Famous and rich modern day aristocrats who’ve served New York for years. I-I read your stupid invitation or whatever.” Griffin waved the parchment around in his hands, only to realize that he just yelled at the heir of a rich and powerful family who could probably sick the fucking mafia or something on him. “Uh…I mean, yeah, I’ll be in your Grail War.”

“I’m a bit honored you know me.” Quentin stood up straight and bared his chest out in pride. “Then again, everyone knows me.”

“Why are you here?”

“To observe the birth of a new Master, of course.” They replied. “It’s not everyday that one gets to be in a Holy Grail War.”

Griffin wasn’t exactly buddy-buddy with any Mages, much less the famed Rambert family. He was immediately suspicious, and all of his brain’s alarms flared up with every passing second, but it’s not like he had a choice. If he rejected, there’s no telling what they might do to him. Though if he accepted, there was also a chance that Quentin might kill him on the spot. 

His only choice was to do the ritual.

He glared at the man but tried his best to continue as usual. He laid out the parchment of the summoning circle and placed his old sword in the center. Quentin raised a brow at it and said, “you’re trying to summon a Saber, then? Going for a strong Servant from the bat, aren’t you?”

“If it helps me win, then I’ll do whatever.” Griffin stepped back a few paces and held up the paper with the incantation. With a catalyst, it made the whole process much easier, so all he had to do now was start the ritual. 

“Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let fire and brimstone pay tribute. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate!”

The moment he started the incantation, energy poured out from his body in the form of flames that burned the parchment away, leaving the now glowing shape of the summoning circle. Quentin’s face was illuminated in the light, giving his cold expression an eerie glow. 

He continued. 

“Let it be declared now. Your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth.”

His sword trembled, absorbing the summoning circle’s energy before shooting out a pillar of pure light up into the ceiling. A gust of wind shoved him back, but he managed to keep himself from falling over. As he spoke, a deep voice repeated his words moments after they left his tongue. 

“From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!”

The light promptly disappeared in the blink of an eye. The energy surging through the summoning circle faded away like embers crumbling off firewood. It was just him and Quentin once more. 

“Did…it work?” He asked above the ensuing silence. 

Quentin said nothing but pointed at his right hand. When he looked down, he found a lion’s head branded on his skin like a tattoo. Its jaws were open in a ferocious roar, with eyes that pierced right through his being. It burned, but no matter how much he rubbed at it, they didn’t smudge. 

“Those are your Command Seals.” Quentin explained. “They are proof of your title as Master. They’re powerful spells that allow you to order your Servant to do anything, regardless of power or will, but remember that you only have three. Use them wisely.”

Suddenly, they started to ache even more after hearing that information. Did they really just freely give him the spells to give his familiar absolute orders? Griffin looked around the store, not finding a single person, and a part of him wondered if the ritual actually worked. HIs Servant was nowhere to be seen. 

“I…uh, don’t know what to do now.” He murmured in a feeble attempt to fill the silence. 

“What we do now is kill each other.” 

Griffin choked on his spit. He stumbled backwards, tripping on an empty cart and falling on his ass. Quentin approached him at a snail’s pace, but it didn’t ease the fear creeping into his throat. “Wh-what?”

“With you, our final Master, the Holy Grail War has officially begun.” Lightning crackled between his fingertips which he clasped together, smiling with bloodlust. “The objective is to kill six of the seven Servants, but considering they’re much more powerful than regular humans, it’d be easier to target the Masters. Starting…with you.” 

Oh fuck. Oh shit. He was about to die. Griffin Fogarty was about to die. He tried to move, but found himself paralyzed by the growing static electricity in the air. His nose hairs burned with the scent of ozone as clouds gathered above them. Quentin snapped his fingers, sending a bolt of lightning to strike the ground in front of him. 

At first, he thought the man just had bad aim, but the sound of footsteps growing closer behind him told Griffin that it was done on purpose. It was a signal. 

He turned his head to come face to face with a spear flying straight at his chest, held by a warrior in silver armor. His brief, miserable life flashed before him, and it only made his impending doom feel even more disappointing. After trying so hard to turn his life around after losing everything, this was where it all ended. 

“Pick yourself up, Griffin Fogarty!” That same deep, echoing voice spoke both in his mind and in reality. Milliseconds later, a sword, his sword, deflected the warrior’s blow. The wielder was a samurai, or at least someone dressed in the thick plated samurai armor that he’s only ever seen in movies. Despite his sword being a standard European style longsword, they wielded it similarly to a kendo player and used it to parry the silver-clad warrior’s strikes with their spear. 

The samurai stared at him with blood red eyes, almost like a demon. His words shook Griffin to his core, like they were commands etched into his very being. “Your life shall not end here. Be brave, Master.” 

All of the fear and horror that froze him in place melted away. He pushed himself to his feet and looked over to Quentin’s direction. The man furrowed his brow in anger, yet he didn’t seem surprised by anything that happened. “Lancer! Distract that Servant, I’ll take care of him.” 

Electricity gathered in Quentin’s hands as he prepared a spell, but the samurai was much faster than that. He kicked the other Servant, Lancer, in the gut and sent them flying all the way across the store. Then, they were gone in the blink of an eye and reappeared right in front of Quentin, striking them in the nose with the butt of his sword. 

Their spell fizzled out as they stumbled back clutching their bloodied nose. Quentin glared at them as Lancer ran to his side with his spear pointed at Griffin. “Alright, you pissed off the wrong guy. Servant or not, you’re still outnumbered.”

The air shimmered as dozens of men with assault rifles appeared from the shadows aiming their laser sights at him. His Servant took up a defensive position, holding up an arm in front of him as some sort of shield. They then huffed and said, “I assure you that you are the one who is outnumbered.” 

Plumes of smoke swallowed up the men as the sounds of fighting ensued. Seconds later, when the dust settled, figures cloaked in dark blue clothing that blended in with the darkness stood over the now unconscious gunmen. For the sake of his sanity, Griffin ignored the blood staining their katana. 

Lancer took one step towards them before Quentin ordered them to halt. A smile formed on the man’s face, almost seeming satisfied as he applauded Griffin saying, “I must admit, you’ve outsmarted me. What may be a setback to my parents is a job well done for you. You’re one step closer to winning the Grail.”

“Is the Grail a trap as well?” He asked, “is all of this one big elaborate scheme?”

“I assure you that the winner will receive their prize in the end.” They answered, grabbing onto Lancer’s forearm. “I can’t assure you that I’ll help you, though. Maybe the other Masters will be willing to cooperate. Outside of us, there are five others that you will have a chance to meet tomorrow.”

Griffin tensed at the sound of meeting the other participants in this war. He couldn’t help but imagine Mages equally as powerful as Quentin, paired with deadly Servants that could take down a hundred men without so much as lifting a finger. His own Servant’s eyes burrowed into him as they said, “be calm. I will protect you with my life.” 

He gathered his courage and forced out his fears through a heavy sigh. “What do you mean by that?”

A few seconds passed before they replied, “a banquet will be held at the Rambert estate outside of the city. This will be your chance to assess the competition and for us to celebrate this momentous occasion. Please, try to wear something fancy. There’ll be a strict dress code.”

“B-but I live in a van, you think I have the money for a suit and tie?”

Quentin shrugged, “not exactly my problem, now is it? I don’t have the time to help you anyways. Being a Rambert’s pretty busy work. Come on, then, Lancer.”

With the loud crackle of thunder and lightning, the pair vanished. As his adrenaline faded, so too did his energy. He fell to his knees clutching at his chest trying to catch his breath. His Servant then pulled him to his feet and gripped him by the shoulders. “Are you alright, Master?”

“Y-yeah, thank you…for everything, and all that.” Griffin managed a smile. “So, you’re my Servant, huh?”

The samurai nodded before sheathing Griffin’s sword and hanging it at his waist, right next to the far sleeker curved katana. They bowed deeply as they said, “you may call me Saber. I shall be your blade from now on, Master.”

“Uh…just call me Griffin.” He laughed nervously. “Master’s…a bit weird of a name.”

“Lord Griffin, then.”

He had a feeling that was the closest Saber would get. Griffin motioned for them to leave the store, and as they did, he couldn’t help but eye the shadows wondering if those men from earlier were still in hiding. “Uh…Saber, where’d all your guys run off to?”

“They are my Noble Phantasm.” He explained. “I can summon them on command to fight and spy for the both of us.”

“Um, mind if I ask what that is?”

Saber nodded. “We Servants are Heroic Spirits, phantoms of figures of the past and fiction. We are given special abilities known as Noble Phantasms that represent the legends that we are known for. Some may wield holy swords, like the legendary King Arthur and Excalibur, while a samurai such as myself is given command over three hundred men. In turn, you are also given that same privilege.” 

Griffin’s mind wandered off to a certain BBC show of King Arthur, and how the king definitely sparked an interest in him. He threw that thought away as he slid out of the store and into the parking lot. The sun had set, bringing with it the blanket of night. He didn’t like being in parking lots at night outside of the gas station he’s basically called home for years. It was so dark, and sometimes eerie as well. However, Saber had such a strong presence that he felt the need to be strong as well. 

“Do you have a name, Saber?” He asked. “Your…real name. I don’t remember any samurai named Saber in history.” 

“It is just a cover name. There are seven classes of Servants in a Holy Grail War, and Saber is one of them.” They answered once more, and Griffin suddenly felt bad for asking so many questions to a man who only just came into being a few minutes ago. “My True Name…the name I was given in life…is Hanzo.”

“Hanzo…that’s a much better name than Saber.” Griffin laughed, throwing open the door to his van and sliding into the driver’s seat while allowing the Servant to rest in the back. “I’m guessing these True Names are supposed to be kept secret?” 

Saber nodded. 

“Huh…must be weird, you know, to never be called by your name. I wonder if you Servants ever forget who you were back in the day.”

No response. 

Griffin was beginning to see how most of their conversations would turn out. He hid his disappointment and drove out of the square, suddenly doubting his actions and the future. Perhaps most importantly, he began to doubt whether or not his wallet could handle having another mouth to feed. He could survive for today, sure, but what about the coming days? What about the literal suit and fucking tie he’d have to buy for tomorrow?

He decided to go and ask his friends tomorrow for help. They were all rich anyways, or at least they had homes unlike him, which Griffin considered wealthy enough. Too tired to do anything else, he pulled into the gas station, headed inside to fetch another pre-packed salad and a chocolate chip cookie as dessert, before flopping onto the mattress in the back of the van. 

Saber observed him as he wolfed down his food with reckless abandon. Griffin felt a bit awkward since he’s never exactly had guests in his van, but he did his best to ignore it. 

“Are you sure it’s safe to be out here, Lord Griffin?” Saber questioned, eyes roaming the nearly empty parking lot with a hint of unease. “We cannot be stuck out in the open like this, when there might be enemies at every corner.”

“It’s the safest I can manage.” He answered, “considering I don’t have a place to go other than this ol’ thing.”

Griffin proceeded to bang on the van’s walls, causing Saber to freeze and then slowly nod. “I see…so you have no home?”

“I’ve been living on the streets for a couple years now, ever since my parents died and their house burned down.” Griffin cleaned up his hands with some hand sanitizer before stuffing his trash in a plastic bag to throw away in the morning. “All they left me were this van and the tools they made, before I had to sell those for money. That sword I used to summon you is the only thing I couldn’t sell.” 

“It is a fine sword.” The Servant unsheathed the blade and held it up against the light pouring out from the gas station. “Whoever made this holds great potential as a craftsman.”

His chest burned with pride hearing those words, and he smiled, sitting up a little bit straighter. “Thanks. It’s the first sword I made that earned my parent’s approval. I could probably make a better one now, but…a blacksmith can’t exactly do his job without the tools, and buying those tools takes money that I obviously don’t have.”

It was the worst thing about his situation. If he just had the tools, he might just be able to start earning a living for himself. But in order to do any of that, he needed money, but he also needed money for food and paying for his phone or gas and all the fucking things homeless people still deal with despite not having a home. 

“A blacksmith?” Saber questioned, “there’s far more to you than meets the eye, Lord Griffin.” 

“Heh…yeah. My whole family line made their legacy as blacksmiths.” Griffin hung his head and conjured up memories of his childhood. The roar of a furnace and the constant hammering of metal always sounded so comforting to him. For a long time, he could never fall asleep without hearing the sounds of fire crackling in the background. “We made a lot of things…and I sold them all, just to get enough money to survive.”

In hindsight, it was a bit dumb, but he was a dumb teenager who didn’t know how to survive on his own. 

They sat in silence. Griffin shifted around before eventually laying down on his bed and wrapping himself as best as possible in his blanket. It was getting late, and if he wanted to wake up early to get that suit, then he’d best sleep now. Maybe it’ll give him a bit more time to dream as well. 

“Rest well, Lord Griffin.” Saber said. “My men and I will keep you safe, both you and your dreams.” 

He heard the Servant exit the van and shut the door. Normally, Griffin was still paranoid sleeping out in the open like this, even with the door’s locked, but today felt different. Then again, not everyone had some badass samurai and his retinue of three hundred ninja to protect them. 

As his eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, Griffin fell asleep, and he fell into the warm embrace of his dreams where his mother and father still lived, and a place where he wished he could live as well.

[vernahateclub]

All post-wedding dialogue

I married Amirah and here are all the NPC lines after the wedding sequence

(captured during EA, might have changed since then. Also no Haru/Logan)

Andy: Nice shindig, Builder. Course, if it was me; organ music is a bit corny. I woulda done rock guitars! Twenty minute drum solo between vows! Dancers explode out of the cake, they're wearing- wait a sec, am I seriously talkin' about my own wedding right now? Get it together, Andy. Get it together...

Arvio: Anyone who doesn't believe in true love... well, it's a pity they missed this ceremony! Even one with a heart of stone would have melted after hearing your wedding vows...

Banjo: Meow!

Burgess: "Though you met in darkness, your souls are on in the Light..." Pretty good, huh! Heh, well. Not mine. Deacon of Meidi! But it totally reminded me of you two! You shine brighter than like... all the stars combined!

Catori: If your marriage was a business, I'd invest every last penny! Here's to wishing you many years of happiness.

Coco: Coo! Coo!

Cooper: Welcome to the club, builder! The marriage club! Now, it's not an official organization. We don't have membership cards. I mean, we have marriage licenses, which, I reckon for all intents and purposes could suffice as a membership card, but, well, to me that just wouldn't feel right. First thing you're gonna wanna get straightened out in your marriage is who sleeps on which side of the bed... (you realize there has probably never been a better time to slowly back away.)

Dan-bi: Congratulations, congratulations! And now, as this monumentous ceremony nears its close: time to get down to business... that's right, I'm talkin' about babies, baby! Good chance our kids'll be the same age... then they can have a best friend right out the gates! Well... you think about it...!

Deputy Captain: Meow meow!

Elsie: So what was it like standin' up there? Was it more... beauty of this miracle called life? Or more... Warmth of the Bright Sun in the form of finding true love amongst those closest to you? Ooh, I can tell the way you're lookin' at me, it's both!

Ernest: If I ever need to write about the perfect wedding, I'll always be able to draw upon this moment for inspiration. Congratulations, Builder

Fang: I pray for you to be forever... as two swans

Grace: You're going to have to give the rest of us dating advice at some point, Builder. It's not easy to bag a keeper like you did, eh?

Heidi: What a wonderful ceremony... Hey, extended family means expanded homestead, am I right! Just come by Construction Junction anyti- oh, shoot, I just did an ad spot at your wedding. Sorry! And congratulations again!

Hugo: Nothin' like a good start as a good omen for a happy marriage. Steer the course, Builder. You've got this.

Jasmine: Your wedding has been super fun, Builder! I love the flowers, too! I just wish there was someone here taking pictures... maybe that's what I'll do when I grow up; take pictures at weddings. Then you can relive this moment anytime you want!

Jensen: Hey, with this wonderful ceremony coming to an end, it's time to start thinking about your honeymoon! Why not take a train to Lucien! I hear it's nice this time of year.

Justice: Dang, Builder, you're a lover and a fighter! Not many people get to say that! Hence... you know, the whole nature of the phrase revolving around the idea that one must choose one or the other...

Krystal: Ah, shoot... I was really hopin' we could have someone from the Salvage Co. Who could make it through the ceremony without cryin' but... aw, here it goes...! Waaahhh!

Mabel: Oh, Builder. You two are like peas in a pod. Like bread and butter. A real match made in heaven! Oh... I can hardly contain myself...!

Macchiato: Meow!

Matilda: I must say, in all my years, I have never read for a more earnest and unwavering couple. I wish you the best, but can say you hardly need any thoughts or prayers; your love is one that will surely last a lifetime.

Meerkat: Squeak! Squeak squeak!

Mi-an: You two look amazing together! And just think, all of this started with you hopping off that train platform oh so long ago... we've come so far and built so much... some of us building even... relationships!

Miguel: Keep your wedding vows, Builder. Take them home, put them somewhere safe. If ever things are hard, look at them again and try to recall the splendor of this moment. Congratulations.

Mort: Congratulations, Builder. You know, I always say my greatest achievement was convincing Martle to marry me. I wish you two the same happiness.

Nemo: Ruff! Ruff ruff!

Owen: Whew... I said I wasn't gonna cry... Oh, who am I kiddin', here come the waterworks... wahhh...! You two... are just so beautiful together... sniff...

Pablo: Love the outfits! You two match in just about every way possible! Seeing you two... oh... it makes me want to almost think about maybe considering having thoughts about one day... thinking about getting married.

Pebbles: Marry! Marry! Marry! When my ma and my pa gon get married...?!

Pen: Heyyy, you actually went through with it! I was kinda hoping to see someone get left at the altar, but... this while 'magical moment' thing kinda works, too. Congratulations!

Qi: Excellent work, Builder. Though, new to the sport, I'm quite confident that you're winning at wedding-having. I can honestly say I have never seen anyone so skilled at weddings before.

Rian: Hey! Me an' Dan-bi got married here, too! I guess not that much of a coincidence, it's the only place in town... but we've got that in common now and uh... I dunno, maybe gettin' married here is good luck or somethin'.

Rocky: Aw, man... I'm gettin' all warm and fuzzy inside... I... nah, Riast, I ain't cryin'... I'm just... talkin' in a really high voice for some reason...! Congratulations...!

Trudy: The family is the foundation of our society. It makes me proud to see someone like you putting down roots in our humble town. I'll keep trying to make our town a better place for you and your loved ones!

Unsuur: Wow, this wedding is great. You should get married every day.

Venti: I was clapping for you guys so much my hands hurt. Clap clap clap. Ow!

Vivi: I am just so glad with how the attire turned out, you two look absolutely to die for. Riast, it really has been an honor to be here and to be able to contribute on your special day. Congratulations! Now go and enjoy yourself, your grandma said so!

X: I want a brother! I want a sister! More birdies! More birdies!

Yan: Heyyy there newbie! Thanks again for the invite! Say, you're out of shrimp cocktails. And those tiny hotdogs. Aaaand... well, pretty much all of the hors d'oeuvres; I stuffed 'em all in my pants for later! So yeah, very happy for you la dee da dee da, go get us a re-up on those hors d'oeuvres! I'm starvin'!

Zeke: I used to be the guy to pronounce couples. Saw a lot of 'em stick together, a lot of 'em fall apart. Sometimes, only way to know if a shoe fits is to slip it on. Here's hopin' to many comfy walks for ya, Builder.

(I don't know what Amirah says as a wedding guest, but here's what she says as a bride)

Amirah: My only regret is that this moment couldn't have come sooner. Today, I feel our love emboldened by a new spark... I love you more than I ever thought possible, Builder. Thank you for this day..

[cathrynworrell]

The only 2 things you need to make art

I loved art and design at school but it took me a while to find my way back to making drawings and paintings.

I studied a very academic subject at university and took a brief detour into teaching, but being diagnosed with a chronic illness led me to rediscover how much I enjoyed being creative.

During the early days of being ill, whenever I had a pocket of energy I would find some comfort in doing some simple sewing or crafting handmade greeting cards.

Every so often I would pick up a pencil and have a go at drawing something but it had been so long since I’d done that, that my drawings were inevitably imperfect. So I would lose patience (and energy) and give up.

Thanks to Danny Gregory’s Book The Creative License I started to draw with a pen for the first time and sank into the process of drawing which felt meditative.

During a conversation with some fellow artists where we were discussing our favourite and newly discovered art materials, I sparked a momentary silence by declaring, “In the end, all you need is a pen and some paper” which nicely sums up what I want to share today.

Sometimes it’s easier to get on with making art if you keep your tools really simple. And the simplest way to make art is with just 2 tools:

1. A pen

Nothing fancy, just choose a pen. That ballpoint pen sitting on the coffee table will work just fine. Don’t put extra pressure on yourself to use or find the ‘perfect’ pen. Doing that’s a really good way to procrastinate and avoid making a start on a drawing.

Just find the nearest pen and use that. Once you’re in the swing of making drawings regularly, consider rewarding yourself with something a bit more fancy, but don’t let the sparkle of shiny new art materials become a barrier to making art.

And yes, I know, it can feel really scary to dive straight into a drawing with a pen. There’s nowhere to hide and no possibility of erasing your lines. But if you embrace the slight wonkiness and imperfections you might start to realise they’re nothing to be afraid of. Accept that a line might not be at the perfect angle and redraw it or just go with it, it doesn’t really matter.

But observing, really looking at what you’re drawing and transferring what you see onto paper with your own marks might start to become something you can truly lose yourself in. Maybe you’ll begin to enjoy the process so much that the outcome of your drawing is secondary to the experience.

And yes, when you first start out you might still feel disappointed or frustrated with the results. But if you haven’t drawn in years, or since you were a child maybe, then your ‘drawing muscle’ is going to take a bit of time to get into shape.

In the meantime, though, be brave, dive in with a (any) pen, observe your surroundings and make some marks.

2. Some paper

Again, don’t overthink this. Have you got a printer? Take a piece of paper from there. Sticky note? That’ll do.

The most memorable drawing I ever did wasn’t fancy, wasn’t my best drawing, but it’s stayed with me. It was drawn on a piece of printer paper with a pen that was just lying around the house.

Maybe at some point, you’ll want to explore all the different kinds of papers and find a sketchbook that feels good to use. But make things as easy as possible to get moving. It’s the equivalent of going for regular walks or runs before you sign up for an expensive gym membership.

You might even have a notebook sitting around somewhere so once you’ve used a few pieces of printer paper or sticky notes, why not see if you can fill all the pages in that notebook?

Just don’t overcomplicate things. Don’t make excuses like “I’ll just go to the art supply shop at the weekend and then I’ll start drawing.”

Embrace the wonky, shaky, wobbly lines. When you look back at those drawings you’ll remember what it felt like to make those marks. Each one tells a story.

In the end, all you need is a pen and some paper. And the best pen and the best paper are those that you have right now. Making art isn’t about having the perfect tools, it starts with making beautiful, imperfect marks with simple materials. Give it a go. What’s the worst that can happen?