#admittedly the guy is not. a bad person but he's bad for her period

[maryasmorevna]

ANYWAY. my sister finally broke up with her toxic bf, and this time it's the real thing. thank god

[thebluebygracieabrams]

wow when i think about it maybe this year wasn't that bad

[1l-ynn]

Want You So Bad

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

1.4k words // use of y/n // mutual pining-ish

a/n: this is very long and WILL HAVE a part 2. i realized that i kinda didnt focus on the romance of this like at all... EEK I am open to any feedback!! please tell me if there's anything i need to fix

part two

"No ones asked you? For real?" Nobaras brows pinched in confusion as she stabbed at the peices of lettuce in her bowl. Homecoming was just around the corner, and although you didn't care to go, seeing all your friends get asked out left and right left a bad taste in your mouth.

It seemed like everyone and their moms were getting asked out. Of course the cutest couple, Kirara and Hakari were going together no questions asked. Maki had asked Yuta an hour before lunch. Toge and Panda were going just to cause chaos, and having no one else, Nobara and Yuji decided to go together.

"Yes for real. What did you expect?" You scrunched your face, huffing as you sipped on your strawberry milk. Your style was admittedly different from your group of friends, their light colors and fast fashion seemed to clash with your velvety style. Not even the school uniform could conceal your preference for darker clothes. Maybe thats what scared others off.

"Well you can always go with Yuji and I, I doubt Megumis coming." She drops her fork, wiping her mouth and dusting her hands off. The lunch period was coming to an end. And as she rises from the table, bringing her tray with her, she finishes her statement. "Not unless Yuji successfully forces him."

Megumi had the right idea. Who'd wanna go to an event where high school students get together in a stuffy gym room with their tacky decorations and overplayed pop music? Or better yet, where the girls are practically breaking their ankles from their heels and the guys are sweating bullets into the cheap fabric of their suits.

"Then what's the point of even going?" You say, trying to match her walking pace. You and Megumi weren't close, but that didn't stop the fuzziness you felt anytime he was near.

Though you're sure he doesn't look your way.

It was practically common sense that Megumi wouldn't be joining you guys, he was more of a home body. There's been countless times where you went to hang out with the group and he was no where to be seen. But that's okay, his isolation only made you wanna learn more about what was under those brooding expressions and the walls he kept up so high.

---------

"You're fucking lucky." The dark haired boy grumbled, he looked rather sharp this evening. Too sharp. He was originally planning on pulling an all nighter. Playing valorant until his eyes bled or until Tsumiki had enough of the string of obscenities he would scream at the TV each time he died.

But no, here he was being Yuji and Nobaras personal driver. He's lucky for Gojo, without him Megumi would look a hot mess. He was dressed in a dark gray button up paired with black slacks. His hair was unruly and had no plan to tame itself, and his cologne had this trace of woody scent.

"C'mon Megs- it'll be fun!" Yuji said enthusiastically, though it didn't take a scientist to realize that was bullshit. Megumi knew that he was really there to drive them from homecoming to some after party. "Plus! Y/n's coming, aren't you excited?"

Thats what got him. It was the best manipulation tactic ever, and Yuji knew it. Although he would kill to go back home, get in some sweats and play Valorant, nothing beat the rush of excitement he got thinking about how nice you would look. Granted you always looked nice, your style was always something that interested him.

Your eerie color scheme appealed to others, but Megumi wanted to be the one to uncover those secrets you hid behind those drappy sleeves. Though its not like you guys were close, he was fine wondering why you were thinking behind those perfectly blended smoky eyes.

"Who knows maybe something'll happen tonight?"

"Yeah right, this is so dumb." Megumi ran a hand through his hair. "She's probably gonna latch onto Nobara."

"Okay yeah but- its worth a shot right?" Yuji gives Megumi a sheepish smile that he only rolls his eyes at. He huffs as he pulls out of the driveway and on to Nobaras.

------

"I don't know..." You stood in front of Nobaras full body mirror. Looking at the dress you guys rushed to buy a few days ago. It was complete luck you got such a beautiful dress, completely your style. The fabric was made of black lace, its corset was tight and form fitting, and the neckline hung a little lower against your chest.

Nobara and Maki give eachother a pointed look before looking back at you. Could you see yourself right now? "Girl what are you talking about? There's nothing wrong." Maki says as she touches up her lipstick. She looks up at you with an incredibly deep scowl. You silently cursed yourself for being the reason for Makis sour face.

Maki set down her red lipstick, it went perfectly with the green pattern of her dress. It was a simple style, the only thing about it was the cut in the skirt. Nonetheless she looked perfect. Yuta would think so aswell.

"Yeah, you look fine.." Nobara pauses before looking at you cheekily, a smirk painting its way onto her face. "You look fine."

She was in a satin red dress with an asymmetrical skirt. Her black heels were practically toothpicks, it was insane how she was keeping herself upright.

You roll your eyes, continuing to pick yourself apart. "Doesn't something look off?" Maybe it was because your hair pins were poking into your head and you were sure it was gonna give you a headache. Or maybe it was the fact that your makeup was a lot lighter than usual.

"Look, you look great. Those guys are gonna wish they were got their grabs, okay?" She hugs you from behind, pouting a bit before starts speaking. "Y'know-"

"KUGISAKI. The boys are down here." Her grandmother called from downstairs.

The boys..? Wasnt it just supposed to be Yuji?

"Finally." Maki grumbled, grabbing her hand purse and walking out the door.

"Wait, what does she mean boys-?" Your question goes unanswered as she unlatches from your back, grabbing her purse and making her way out the door.

Her head pops in for a second. "You look fucking hot, okay?" The brunette gives you one last smirk before saying "Megumi will think so, now let's go."

"Wait- what?!"

---

"They've been up there all evening. I don't even think they got any food..." Nobaras grandma says as she wraps up the last of her Onigiri. Placing them into a small bag before handing it to Yuji. His fat ass already digging in. "Take these so you guys don't starve."

Megumi's face immediately pulls into a scowl, as he raises a hand to smack Yuji with. Earning a yelp from the pink haired boy. "Thank you Ma'am. Thats very generous of you."

"Ehh..Don't mention it." She waves her hand, beginning to clean the kitchen. Just in time for the girls to start walking down. First Maki, then Nobara and lastly y/n..

Y/n...?

"Oh would you c'mon already?!" Nobara throws her head back in exasperation. She looked up at the stairs with an expectant glance. "God so help me-"

Megumis adams apple bobbed in his throat, holding that same expecting glance. He was silently preparing himself for your arrival. His brain filling with possibilities of what you could be wearing.

"Get down here before we drag you down." Maki was already starting to stomp up the stairs.

"Okay- okay I'm coming.." You slowly walk down steps, Your hands clutching onto your long skirt so it wouldn't get caught under your heel.

Megumi's breath hitched- There you were in all your glory. Your dress was perfect. The corset fit snugly on your waist. Like it was tailored to your form, or better yet a second skin. It continued to hug you down to your knees showing off the cute divots where your hips were. Your sleeves went down in that same fashion, draping down your forearm. And to top it all off your neckline rested just a bit lower than your collarbones.

Megumi practically had hearts for eyes, watching you look around nervously. Your makeup was simpler than usual but that didn't take away from the look overall. He was stuck in that daze until you both locked eyes.

"Finally. Now let's go take pictures!"

part two

[alleycatking]

Currently ruminating after my third listen of The Magnus Archives, and I needed to put my thoughts into words. Because after 3 listens and 4 years after first discovering the series, I still don't know how to feel about Melanie King.

On my first listen, I thought my opinions on the characters were pretty set: John is sympathetic. Tim is annoying but ultimately tragic. Martin is sweet and misunderstood. Etc.

I absolutely DESPISED Melanie on my first listen. Her seeming lack of self awareness with her anger issues. her constant deflecting and accusing, and even her last conversation with Martin where she's snide, all got under my skin and made me hate this character.

Part of all that was because I was still pretty new to horror as a genre (I am admittedly a pretty big scaredy cat), and further, my unfamiliarity with the more narrow genre of cosmic horror. I had someone put it to me this way: "It's horror. Everyone and everything sucks. That's the point."

On my second listen of the series, I was surprised by how much changed. John was no longer sympathetic to me, but a mechanism in his own self destruction, who essentially used the "but I'm just a little guy with glasses uwu, and it's my birthday, I'm the birthday boy" defense every time he was called out. Tim was no longer annoying, but an example of someone shutting down, mentally and emotionally, in the face of discovering what (to a very small extent) was going on. Which now, is totally fair. Crumpling like a paper doll under the weight of pure horror is actually an understandable response (who knew). And Martin... is still sweet... but is also a people-pleasing asshole.

But Melanie was... different. I definitely softened on her character. Entering a period of my life where I was FINALLY starting to acknowledge my own history of anger issues and mental disorders probably helped, and I will admit there was projection from my part.

But now, after my third listen, it seems like there's this weird aspect of the series, especially season 5, where every character needs to address their own toxicity in order to admit they've done wrong. Everyone, except Melanie.

John tells Martin about Gertrude's shortcomings, and how being a cold stone bad-ass didn't make her a good person, and that she was willing to throw away innocent people for the "greater good". Martin LITERALLY self reflects, and his other self calls him out on how much of John's behavior he's willing to excuse. Hell, even Helen goads John into revealing that he's no better than her in the hotel. In the end, he was just as "hungry" as every other monster. He even admits this to Martin.

But the most we get from Melanie is "I've actually done a lot of work on my anger." Which, would be great, except...

Melanie King gave Johnathan Sims the mark of The Slaughter, and she is partially responsible for the apocalypse that is created.

I am not the first, nor will I be the last, to draw the comparison that the unknowable forces and systems that make up the horrors of TMA, are meant to represent capitalism. I personally would make the distinction that the analogy is better made as a comparison to the abuse of power in general, but to a lot of people, those are the same thing. And one argument I have seen in Melanie's defense, is that by willingly blinding herself, she is removing herself from the fucked up game that is being played, and is a better person for it. That by choosing not to participate in "capitalism", she is one of the few people that grows. But... does she? Is that how that works? If we remove analogy from the story at all, would we say that a billionaire who wakes up one day and decides to redistribute all their money and help people is absolved of all the pain they have caused in the past?

I think part of the reason why, even after softening on Melanie because of my own experiences with anger and lack of personal security, the conversation between Melanie and Martin STILL makes me angry, even after 3 listens.

The end of season 4 is basically a confirmation of it, but I would argue John confronting Jude Perry is a secondary confirmation, that John had to be "marked" by each of the powers in order for Jonas' plan to work. He even outright states it "Did you know this would happen when you burned my hand?" Jane Prentiss marked John with The Corruption. Jared Hopworth marked John with The Flesh. But Melanie's involvement in the state of the world, is never brought up. And it's not just the state of the world in season 5 either. I find it very interesting that Melanie's therapist is specifically being tormented by The Spiral. And yeah, you could make the argument that it's BECAUSE she's a therapist, like the series does, but I also think it's interesting that when The Spiral tries to claim her (Melanie's therapist) again, it's done so through Helen, who Melanie literally and figuratively opened the door for. Melanie's actions have consequences, and they DO affect other people, but the most we ever get from her is "I've been working on my anger", which feels... unfinished. And unsatisfying, given her character as a whole is essentially an exploration of anger issues. I don't really buy the logic of the framing of the series (we as the audience only hear what's relevant to The Web), or that just because it's horror, some people are shitty and some answers are unsatisfying. Because I no longer believe Melanie is shitty. I believe she's a complicated character who goes through so much shit in order to feel safe and self-actualized.

But that doesn't excuse her past actions. And it's weird that those actions are never challenged, when other characters who have histories of being abusive, like Daisy and Basira, VERY MUCH ARE.

So... I don't know if this rant really had a point, other than just me trying to motivate myself to write down my thoughts instead of festering in my own head. I don't know if there's a point to be had at all. All I know is I've listened to the Magnus Archives, all 200 episodes, three times,

and I still don't know how I feel about Melanie King.

[mc-tums-fog]

Under The Desert Sky

Fic Summary: Upon arriving in Australia from America and taking up the job as a ranch hand for the Marston Ranch for the sake of your family, the only thing you could find worthwhile of your attention was the night sky that was endless of stars. But that might start to change when you find that the particularly precise ranch owner sees you as someone worthwhile of his attention.

Pairing: Elliott Marston x GN! Reader

Chapter I: To Catch a Glimpse of the Stars

Content Warnings For This Chapter: Period-Typical Racism (Mentions against the Aboriginal people and Native Americans), Ableist Language/Ableism, Canon-Typical Violence

Notes:

Right now the plan for this is to be 5 parts long with each part uploaded on Tuesdays so hopefully at least one of those two stick.

TL;DR: Your Honor, his ass is down so bad to fix him and his racism he made a canon divergence fic

Also shout out to @smilingformoney cause I like how she formats fics on Tumblr so got major inspiration for how I'll share this fic here and for also jumpstarting my infatuation with Elliott Marston because I was only looking at Hans Gruber gifs on her blog while she was posting Elliott Marston gifs and once I saw Alan Rickman in an all black cowboy outfit I knew it was over for me.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

You already knew that from the moment you had first set foot into Australia that you hated it. The journey of crossing a vast amount of ocean with your family cramped into a ship containing at least fifty other passengers, one third of which were seasick, was not pleasant to begin with. Arriving in a climate you had rarely experienced before made it worse. The month you arrived in the city of Sydney; it was a warm welcome that was very much unwelcome. The air was hot, stifling, and every sense of the word cramping. You weren’t used to this kind of temperature, having lived in mostly cool city regions, and at times traveling to mountain regions that offered year snow. Did Australia even have snow?

Regardless, this would not have been your first place to move to. Or second. Or third. You didn’t even realize Australia existed if you were completely honest. You honestly thought your cousin, or uncle-honestly, you couldn’t remember your relation to the guy anyway- was making it up when he said he lived down here just so he didn’t have to attend family get-togethers. So when you had learned that there was a smaller continent that was right in the middle of the ocean, you were surprised. And scared at the prospect of moving. But you really had no other choice. Your father had come down with a sickness that left him with a coughing fit every single day. You caught the signs early, and the doctor recommended that you all move to a hotter climate as soon as you could, as it would ease the sickness progression, and hopefully, stop it all together. So, whoever your relative meant to you, offered the opportunity for you all to come down here. You found that it worked better, as no other family member lived in a hotter state, and you didn’t want to move to somewhere new where you didn’t know at least one other person. Especially since without the physical illness, your father, admittedly, was not all “there” mentally.

He hardly spoke to others and when he did, he was a man of few words, often which people couldn’t completely understand. He didn’t like being in certain areas and was really only comfortable with a small handful of people. He couldn’t do certain tasks but the ones he could do, he excelled at. But not many people found his skills useful. So, often, your mom would have to take care of him beforehand. Now the time and care she put in helping him went double time once he got ill. It would give her extra comfort to know that she had a relative she could reach by in time while being in the optimal location for his health.

So, whatever your personal feelings were the moment you stepped onto Australia, being far away from a place of familiarity, you had to hold it down for your family’s sake. You could adjust to a strange land.

And to Sydney’s credit, you were surprised, but comforted to see that there were building structures resembling the ones you grew up in, with there even being forests that were distant but visible to the naked eye. From what other passengers had been describing, the picture painted in your head about Australia was mostly a desert region, territory with which you were unfamiliar. So, at the very least, it seemed like you could make this work. So long as you found a job or two that allowed you to be indoors most of the time, you’d be fine.

And that’s how it was going, fine. You got a decent place to stay, worked jobs that allowed you to be away from the heat and come back home before nightfall to help your mom prep dinner and take care of your dad, and let the darkness from outside make your already cool room even cooler. As far as work went, it was much like the other times you worked, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. You could get used to this routine.

But it hadn’t even been six months since your arrival and you, and your family were already starting to have financial troubles again. It was like this before, with the family struggling to make ends meet. But at the very least, sometimes the different workforces you worked at would be charitable and allow your dad to work to some capacity, so long as you or your mom were around to help keep an eye on him. That was before he got physically ill. Sure, you could see improvements now that you were all here, but he still wasn’t well enough to work. So, it was just you to be the one to provide for the family. But the jobs that you did have were not enough.

As luck had it, that extended uncle-cousin had the opportunity to help you and your family out again. He knew someone who owned a ranch, who needed both a ranch hand and a way to repay back your family member. So, he brought you up, as you had prior experience of working at ranches and on farms. Both of those jobs were short periods in your life, but you excelled in them well. It was a deal that would work out for them both in the long run.

The catch was that it was in the Northern Territory of Australia, within what they called the “outback” region. That would mean you needed to move up nearby or live within the ranch for convenience’s sake. With your dad still only just barely getting better, and your mom still needing to take care of him, all of you couldn’t move up there easily. But it was a higher paying job that would have benefited you. Even if you hated how hot it was here now, you’d do the work in order to make sure your family was comfortable. You told your extended relative that you would take the job, so long as the ranch owner would accommodate by sending the majority of the money down to your parents. It would allow them time to build up the funds, and for your dad to get better, to move up there safely and in their own time. Once he got it squared away, you made the journey.

Traveling through the desert region made you realize how you took Sydney for granted. The colder months had just started to wear off, and the farther you went up north, the hotter it got. You did your best by staying inside the wagon whenever possible, as it had a covering over it. But that still wouldn’t stop the dirt and sand getting inside of the wagon. The sounds of wild animals would bother you more than it did your relative, he was used to it as he carried a gun around like it was an extension of himself. It was a bit unnerving for you, with not having much experience in weaponry.

Every night before you went to bed you had to remind yourself who you were doing this for, and just hoped the ranch owner was charitable in allowing time for you to take breaks when needed.

He was anything but.

After traveling for a few days and arriving at the ranch, the owner, named Elliott Marston, wasted no time in putting you to work shortly after your introductions. This initial interaction already set you off on the wrong foot with him. You could already tell this man was someone to not go against in any capacity. Your general tasks ranged from actual ranch hand work, such as taking care of the livestock, fixing the fences, emptying out the wagons when they made their supply runs, things like that.

But then Marston and his other men would have you perform menial tasks that would make you think they could easily do it themselves. It was particularly annoying when the men would criticize you or when Marston would watch you from his house, which he did from time to time. You didn’t know why. Perhaps the city look was still that much apparent on you, or Australians and Americans had distinct mannerisms that you had no idea about. Especially as some moments when you tried to take a break by dunking your head into a barrel of water, and if Marston and his men were nearby, his men would make a joke about how you weren’t accustomed to the heat.

These things, you could hold your tongue for. Menial tasks, the mockery, you could withstand that if it meant you got good pay. Which you did. But the longer you stayed there the quicker you realized how much his men were more focused on practicing their shooting, hooting and hollering with the ladies they brought back, and going after and attacking the Aboriginal people, you realized how much harder this was going to be. You didn’t care for any of that, especially towards the disrespect to the Aboriginals. In America, the tribes you encountered were the only group to show more respect for your fathers’ mental issues, unlike those in the big cities. You could see similarities as you learned more about them and who they were on the land. Seeing them treated like that, it would make your skin boil more than when the sun boiled your skin.

Still, it wasn’t something that you could just say that you went directly against without putting your job at risk. It killed you, knowing that you were trading your morals for money. But you just had to rationalize to yourself that it wouldn’t be much longer. Writing to your mom as often as you could, you just hoped that they could save enough that they could just downgrade somewhere in Australia, or maybe you could convince your relative to take you all into his house. So long as you could find a way where you didn’t have to work at the Marston Ranch while leaving amicably for the sake of your relatives’ connection, you would hold your tongue.

And you tried. You really tried. But as the hotter months progressed with barely any break time, besides sleeping in the lodge provided to the workers, and with the right set of words thrown at you to get you going, you couldn’t do that anymore.

Despite it still being within springtime, Australia never got any cooler for you. It was getting late in the afternoon one day as you were moving hay bales for the horses to eat when you overheard one of the men talking. You did your best to tune them out whenever they weren’t directly talking to you or giving you orders. But this topic of discussion revolved around the two Aboriginal women that they had on the ranch. Both of whom were still very much within earshot of what the men were saying. They threw various insults about them like they weren’t there, but knowing full well that they were.

It brought you back to the times that you brought your father to work with you at your jobs, and how the rest of the workers would say hurtful things about him, right to his face, and laugh. They did it under the assumption that he wouldn’t know what they were saying. But you could tell, in a way that he did. And even if he didn’t, you did. And that was enough to send words, and if necessary, fists right to them.

So, with the added heat from the sun to fuel your decision to finally shut them up, you looked over to them and called out as you were setting down the last haybale.

“Would you quit going on about them? They’ve done nothing to you.”

The men, and the two women perked up at you. The women’s faces were unreadable; however, the men made their feelings very clear.

“Keep workin’, this conversation’s got nothing to do with you.” One of the men, Coogan if you recalled correctly, tried to wave you off.

“With how loud and obnoxious your voice is I’m forced to be part of the conversation.” Your rebuttal back to him was, as you looked back to the hay bales.

He stood up more properly, as if to try to seem more imposing, despite still being a good amount of feet away from you.

“You think being from the big city gives you the right to talk to me like that?”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from the stables. “No, but it’s given me the displeasure of knowing that no matter what country I’m in, there’s still the same kind of stupidity that’ll set us back to the stone age. And I’m not going to be silent about it.”

The other men started to clamor as they could sense it was starting to get heated, at least from Coogan’s side. You were just planning to rest up in the lodge, thinking that he was just going to wave you off again, when his next words set off the simmering coals that were in you into a roaring fire.

“Well, it’s clear your mom didn’t teach you some manners. Because she would’ve been busy takin’ care of your dad. And we know he’s too slow to teach you anything!”

The clamoring among the men grew louder, but all you could hear was the ringing in your ears as you stopped in your tracks and looked him dead in the eye. You had heard them whisper among each other about your reasoning for being here when you first started working. But this was the first time they had directly made fun of your family.

It was going to be the last.

One fistfight later, that ended up with a set of stitches and a black eye for a Coogan, and a badly bruised rib cage and bruised cheek to you, you already began to pack your things from the lodge. You figured that you might as well wait beside the trees that were closer to the ranch entrance. Elliott Marston hadn’t been there due to some sort of business he needed to attend to with Major Ashley-Pitt a few days prior. If he had you would’ve likely experienced the consequences sooner. However, he was expected to come back later that evening. And you were expecting that once he did, the men would pull a primary school move and tell on you, and at best, you would be fired and either have to leave right then or in the morning. At worst… Well, you didn’t think about that or how Elliott Marston always had his pistol on his hip and how quickly he drew his gun on deserters.

Sure enough, he came back riding on his horse when the sun was just starting to set. He took note of you sitting by the tree, with your arms crossed as you looked ahead, only to give him the briefest acknowledgement by turning to face him slightly. Surely, he saw your bruised up face, but he didn’t comment on it, his expression unreadable. Which, that’s how it always was when he stared at you for no good reason. You continued back with staring ahead. As he got off his horse and went into his home, you could already hear the few footsteps of his men, with Coogan calling out to him.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you huffed in annoyance anyway. More so at yourself at this point.

You wanted to be a provider for your family. But this was taking a toll on you. You knew on a deeper level, if you explained the situation to your family, they’d be happy that you stood on your morals and got out of there when things weren’t going well. However, your mom particularly didn’t want you to get taken over by your pride for yourself and your family. Especially when it could have easily gotten you killed. It’s clear those men weren’t didn’t have to use guns to protect themselves. Though you were sure if she saw the state of your face now, she’d do everything she could to make sure those men weren’t standing either.

You laughed a bit. If she got her hands on them the men would get a glimpse on what your mom did teach you and that you went easy on Coogan.

Then there was the issue of money. You had initially figured that it would be quite easy to find another job if you left this one. But that was on the assumption you left on good terms. With how influential Elliott Marston seemed to be, especially with his connections to the army, it was possible that word of mouth would spread. And the influence would decrease your chances of getting hired by others within the area.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes, which caused you to flinch at the pressure of the bruised side of your face. You flopped your hands down and bumped your head back against the tree. Which unsurprisingly also didn’t help with the apparent pain in your head that was growing all together. You were about to close your eyes and wait for the inevitability of being let go either tonight or first thing in the morning when you stopped yourself. Through the leaves of the tree, you could still see the night sky, and the brilliant number of stars that were beginning to show.

You got up, wincing as you maneuvered to pick up your bag, and walked further out over to a crate that was close by the fence. You positioned it so that you were sitting on the crate but resting your arms on one of the wooden planks. As you looked up, a few things suddenly dawned on you.

First, you have rarely ever looked up at the night sky here in Australia. Second, you have rarely been outside at night during your whole time here in Australia, besides the occasional bathroom break. And third…

The Australian night sky was breathtakingly beautiful.

You didn’t think you'd ever seen this many stars in your life. Back home, the city night sky, when you looked up at it, hardly showed any indication of stars. It was always dark, looming and glooming over you. It felt miserable to look at, so you never did. But tonight, here in the desert, the amount of stars and the big bright moon casting the area in a calming deep blue hue that made it bright enough to still see everything was nothing like you had seen before. You didn’t feel dread when looking up at it like you had in the city before. There was something to it that made you feel a sense of calmness that you hadn’t experienced in a long while.

It was peaceful.

The serenity of the scattered stars shining over you was short-lived. You could hear precise footsteps from behind walking over to you. You exhaled through your nose in annoyance, already preparing yourself mentally for the chewing out you were likely going to get. You still stared ahead, but in your peripheral vision you saw Elliott Marston come up to your left and lean his own arms against the fence, still dressed in that all black attire that he typically wore.

You don’t even know how he was able to do that with how intensely hot it got during the day. At night you could see how the outfit could work for him, blending into the shadows. But during the day he stuck out like a sore thumb amongst his men.

“Seems you and Coogan had a quarrel.” He said in a strangely calm voice, looking down at you.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his tone. He always had this sense of superiority that was more than just being someone’s boss when he talked to others. It was like he viewed himself as better than everyone else in the room. You hated it. You figured that’s why he wore all black, just so he could stand out among the rest. He could surely hear you scoff at him, with how quiet it was, and could surely see you roll your eyes at him, given that he was standing above you while you were still sitting down and could see your face clearly. But once again, he didn’t comment on your reaction directly and continued.

“I don’t appreciate fighting among my workers, nothing gets done once they do.”

“And I don’t appreciate the disrespect he showed to my parents,” A quick brief pause, before you decided to add the last part, “And to the Aboriginals.” You figured that since you were already in the shit, you might as well go further into it.

You could tell he cocked his head at you as you still stared straight ahead.

“I could understand defending your parents honor, but to defend such an uncivilized kind of-”

You cut him off, finally looking up at him. “You think you’re any better than them?”

For a split moment, the unreadable stare he normally had finally had an expression to tie it down to, that being shock. He really must’ve not been expecting you to say something to him. Maybe he figured that you would turn yellow and try to smooth the situation out for your sake. He was wrong. The emotion was there for only a moment as he composed himself to get back into his usual stare. But you could tell that the gears in his head were turning much like a clock. As if he was trying to convince himself that you didn’t say what you just said to him.

“They’ve come and ruined our crops and livestock, something that keeps us fed and workers a job, which includes you mind you.” He said in an even calmer tone of voice. Like he was restraining himself. Like he was giving you another out to take back what you said and learn to respect what he was saying.

But it didn’t. And you had no problem in not restraining yourself.

“And you don’t think for a second that maybe it’s because of what you’re doing to them? They’ll easily make trades with those in the other towns as I’ve heard, with no issues whatsoever. No bloodshed from either group. Meanwhile, you and your men hold hunting parties when they travel through the desert, to get away from you, mind you.”

He seemed like he was going to rebuttal that statement, but you weren’t done.

“I hear you talk about how you’re a student for other countries like America. Wearing your intelligence like it’s a badge. But if you can’t see how your ruthless acts are on par to what you claim the Aboriginals are doing to you, then you mustn’t be a good one.”

You looked back up to the stars.

“You’re no better than any of them.”

You were certain that your chances of getting fired were increased by the max right now. And if there was initially no chance of him taking more drastic measures, such as leaving you to die in Australia, the chances were increased now. But you couldn’t keep your opinions to yourself any longer. You respected yourself too much for that. Even now, when you could feel his intense gaze burning into you, you weren’t going to beg for his mercy.

The few moments of silence were so heavy and filled with tension, only being broken by the night sounds and distant barking of a dingo, or coyote, you still couldn’t tell the difference. You were just waiting for the moment that he would break it by whatever reaction he saw fit.

But the reaction you got wasn’t what you expected.

“You don’t know me well enough to make that judgement.”

You were about to counter that statement when what he said right after stopped you.

“But I suppose the same could be said about me to you.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that. And why he said it in a much softer and more thoughtful tone than how he was originally speaking. But you didn’t have time to ponder that as he added more to your confusion.

“I’m a man of my word. I intended to uphold the deal between your cousin and I.”

Well at least your relatives’ identity got squared away, though you were certain he was old enough to be your uncle.

But that wasn’t important right now. You were still trying to figure out how he was even allowing you to breathe at this point.

You waited to hear if he would then explain the consequence for speaking and acting like that towards his men and especially to him. But a moment passed, and he still didn’t say anything. He kept staring out to where you were looking at, which was right at the stars. Getting lost into them just as much as you had been a moment prior.

You were about to bite the bullet and ask him what the catch was to still being employed to him, but he got up from where he was standing and began to walk back. As he walked, he spoke in that calm yet full of that superiority tone of voice he normally had.

“That fence is not stable. Unless you plan on working with a lantern, I expect you to be working on it early in the morning.”

You just looked at him as he continued walking away, dumbfounded. That task was like the other tasks he had given you before. So, it wasn’t like he was going to work you to death. Unless he had that planned for later. But if he was truly a man of his word then he was still going to keep the deal going. You could only assume that this meant he wasn’t going to decrease the pay. Surely if he did, he would know that you would write to your cousin about it, leading to more complications between the two.

So, what was it. What was the catch that he had planned.

You weren’t sure, and you knew it would be best to keep your guard up for the coming days. But for now… you looked back up to the stars one more time. You could tell that the calmness that they brought will be helpful to get you through whatever was going to happen within the next, however long you were employed here.

You took comfort in knowing that the stars would be there when the catch came.

[atinylittlepain]

Part Two

no outbreak!joel miller x f!oc

series playlist

joel miller masterlist

series masterlist

She's tired. He's tired. They're neurotic. They're in love. Something needs to change. They need to change.

word count | 5.1k

chapter content info | 18+ little angst, couples counseling, just two tired people trying to figure out the tangle of their relationship together

a/n | part two is here, and i'd just like to say thank you to everyone being so kind about the first part - i know this isnt the usual peepaw fare, so thanks for giving her a chance - and also big thank you to @wannab-urs for beta-ing this bad boy <3

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This is not a failure. She is not failing. They are not failing. Every Thursday at four o’clock she shuts her laptop and locks her office and stops in the bathroom at work, silently repeats these things to herself in her mind while she rubs her fingers at smudged mascara in the bathroom mirror. Like a mantra, though she’s not sure she’s fully bought into it yet. Because the truth is, she has had plenty of conversations with plenty of girlfriends that, really, they shouldn’t have been having about other girlfriends, not in the room with us girlfriends who, did you hear, started going to therapy and, did you hear, started going to therapy with their, oh no, husbands. Yes, she has been the bitch who has made jokes about death knells and a marriage’s last gasp for breath, jokes about the husband having the emotional range of a goldfish, and the wife being so up the husband’s ass she should give him a colonoscopy while she’s at it. She’s not really making jokes like those anymore. 

She’s not supposed to be doing what she’s doing this Thursday at four o’clock. When they first went to Vicky (LMFT, for the record) her fundamental decree had been a period of full separation. Sixteen years, she had asked, and they had nodded, and she had said whoa boy, yeah, y’all need to back off each other before we do anything else. If Paula Dean had a penchant for self-help instead of butter, she’d be something like Vicky. And so, with all the care of a drill sergeant delivering commands, or a mechanic running a diagnostic on a fucked-up car, Vicky had told them how this is going to go. An apartment, she said, don’t care which one of you lives in it. Minimal contact between sessions, right, keep it civil, right, this isn’t for forever, right. So Joel got an apartment, and Tommy helped him move all the furniture in the basement with admittedly minimal, but still present, wariness, and for the last four weeks they’ve been doing everything their beloved herr-therapist tells them. She supposes it’s working, although you can’t really do much fighting when you only see the other person for ninety minutes every Thursday so, the results might be confounded, actually.

“Hey there.” Hey there? What the fuck, what the actual fuck. He doesn’t think he’s ever said those words to her, ever, maybe not to anyone actually. He feels a little insane, a little itchy under the skin, mouth full of cotton, brain too, because they’re not supposed to be doing this, not really. The first time she’s seen the apartment, or, well, the doorway of the apartment, doesn’t really seem interested in stepping further inside, running her curled palm up and down the strap of her purse and right, not here for that. He shuts the door behind him and then they’re on their way to therapy because it’s four o’clock on Thursday and this is what they do now at four o’clock on Thursday.

“Thanks again. I didn’t think my car would still be in the shop today.”

“Oh of course, you said it’s a transmission leak?” 

“Yeah, the bad, expensive kind that’s above my paygrade. Guy said they’re still waiting on a part for it.”

“Well I’m off work tomorrow if you need a ride anywhere.”

“Vicky’ll get pissed.”

“If she finds out. Are you gonna tell on me to Vicky?” It’s a joke, they can joke, right? She laughs a little on the end of her words to make it clear, hey, it’s a joke, awkward and out of touch and unsure of what the rules are. But he offers a breath of a laugh, at least, fine, it’s fine, they’re fine, and now they’re silent driving to Vicky’s office. 

Should he ask her how her week has been? If the kitchen sink is still leaking? He’s not sure. Not sure about any of it, really. Every week, Vicky asks them how they think they’re doing and Cass doesn’t even hesitate. Good, she says. Not fine, not okay, but good, usually with a sure, terse nod. It takes him a little longer to find the right word to describe how he’s doing. Not sure about that either, but it’s definitely not good. Some things are better, sure, easier not to argue when under foot, easier not to remember all the ghosts they’ve built up around themselves. But at the most basic level, he misses her, even misses arguing with her, in a perpetual state of missing something, walking around and wondering if he left his wallet at home, or if he remembered to call a client about a new build, wondering if he’s missing something essential, a limb or an organ he didn’t know about. No, none of that. Missing something else.

“You’re not wearing your ring.” She flexes her left hand over the steering wheel in response, her very bare ring finger making him feel a quick pinch of something he’ll call anger, though it’s probably something else entirely. 

“No, Vicky advised I try not wearing it during the separation.”

“Why the fuck would she tell you to do that?”

“Joel.”

“I’m just asking.”

“You’re swearing.”

“Well, why didn’t she say the same thing to me?”

“Maybe because I told her this is how you would react.”

“I think I’m having a pretty normal reaction to it, actually.”

“It’s not a big deal. It’s just for now.”

“Right.”

“It is.” 

“Seems like a strange thing to advise someone to do when they’ve been married for nearly two decades.” She parks outside of the office complex that Vicky works in, lets out a long sigh through her nose and doesn’t spare him a glance as she reaches around to the backseat and pulls her purse up front, producing her ring from somewhere deep inside of it and sliding it back on her finger. 

“There, are you happy now?”

“Why the hell were you keeping it in your purse?”

“Oh my god, really?”

“That’s a real easy way to lose it is all I’m saying.” The truth is, she’s been keeping it in her purse in order to have easy access to it. Like a pulsepoint, sometimes she just needs to know it’s there, reaching into her purse underneath her desk and yep, still there, still okay. Sometimes she doesn’t get through a whole day without putting it back on. Like reflex, like ghost limb aching. But she’s not about to tell him that.

“Do not bring this up with Vicky.”

“Why not?”

“Because then she’ll know we drove here together.”

“You’re that worried about what Vicky thinks?”

“She’s our therapist, I’m a healthy and appropriate amount worried about what Vicky thinks.” 

“You know she’s not the arbiter of marriage just because she has a couple of degrees, right?”

“Really, the arbiter of marriage?” 

“Are you doing that thing you do, is that what this is?”

“What thing?” 

“Cass.”

“What thing?”

“Are you trying to win therapy?” Fuck him. No, really, fuck him. He’s doing that thing, his thing to her thing, half a smile in the passenger’s seat like he’s got her. Awful, of course he’s got her, smug and sure in his getting her. She doesn’t answer his question, knowing that her silence is an answer in and of itself and not really caring because they have therapy, damn it, and it’s going to be his fault if they’re late to therapy, damn it.

“You know, I’m starting to see why Vicky told us no carpooling to sessions.” Slammed shut, he sighs when she gets out of the car, thinking idly to himself that yes, he doesn’t necessarily disagree with that commandment of their therapist either. At the very least, Cass’ ring is still on her finger. He tried a few times in the past to get her something new, something nicer than the gold band he had given her when they were still young and still not able to afford much of anything, but sure enough in each other to want to keep doing it, all of it, together. No, she would tell him, doesn’t want anything other than the gold band. What she doesn’t know is that he pawned his grandfather’s watch and an electric saw for the ring the shop owner kept in a padlocked display case. Twenty-six years old, and looking back, he thinks he would have sold a whole lot more just to get it for her. 

He used to call her pearl. Something about grit that would make her roll her eyes and ask him what late night National Geographic TV special he got that line from, all the while inwardly swooning because sure, she had been baby before, babe, an errant sweetheart even, but pearl was new, and tooth-decayingly sweet. And when he proposed, Sarah bouncing around them like a manic cupid, Cassandra made an ugly sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry, little black velvet box and a ring that was more signet than wedding, simple and gold and a single pearl set in the center of it. Her hands clasped, she runs the pad of her finger over her ring, wordless and worrying it on the elevator ride up to Vicky’s office. 

Vicky has a thing for lamps and art prints of naked women. Her waiting room is a little dim, no windows, green velveteen loveseat and two high-backed wooden chairs that they always take when they get here, his eyes scanning over the coffee table laden with back-ordered Psychology Today magazines, headlines about overcoming anxiety and exercising your way out of depression. There had been one about postpartum  depression somewhere in the pile the last time they came, but he had made a point of hanging back after Cass left, some excuse about checking an insurance thing with Vicky, though what he really did was pluck out that magazine and throw it away in the men’s restroom down the hall. One less thing to worry about, at the least. 

“Hi, you two, come on back.” The sessions always start the same. Vicky asks them how they think the week went, and they both offer up some iteration of fine. Vicky asks them if they’ve been upholding their phase of separation, and she answers before Joel can, pointedly not looking at him, yes, no contact between sessions. But apparently, this week is going to be different.

“We are nearing the end of the total separation phase. After this initial period of cooling off for both of you, the real work can begin.” Right, phases, because Vicky works in phases like this is some sort of military siege. He tries not to roll his eyes at the real work beginning. 

“Can either of you remember the last date you went on together?” 

“It would’ve been in August, right before the separation.” Cass scoffs at his answer, tilt of her head like, really?

“Tommy and Maria’s baby shower hardly counts as a date. But we did go to dinner at the end of July.”

“I don’t think your work banquet counts either.” Vicky hits them with that look, that yeah, that’s what I thought look, all raised brow and scrunched nose and nodding. Not that she is, but if she, hypothetically, were trying to win therapy, Cassandra thinks she wouldn’t be doing a great job of it right now.

“Right, well, you’ve made my point for me. It’s not unusual for people who have been together for as long as you two have to let things like this fall to the wayside. However, it can be very helpful to reestablish some of these routines. Think of it as marriage maintenance.” 

“So you want us to start going on dates again?” 

“Yes, but not with each other.” Did she? Did he? Hear that right? Cass is nodding like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world, like, yes, of course, this is just the solution they’ve been looking for. This time, he doesn’t hold back a laugh.

“I’m sorry, what?” Both of them look at him like, yes, keep up, please, let us explain this to you very slowly so you can keep up, please. Something about seeing what life is like outside of their marriage, testing the waters, seeing if they still like the same things without their extra marital limb, something about making a decision about their marriage, though he tunes most of that part out because, no, thanks, no new decision has been needed since he got down on one knee during that trip to Galveston, sunscreen and sticky sweet and he’s not sure if he or Sarah was more excited, but he was definitely more nervous. And Cass said yes, and then he wasn’t nervous anymore, not scared anymore, and that’s all there was to it, is to it, right? Right. 

“This is the closing exercise of the total separation phase. It’s really important that you both have this opportunity to see what it’s like to be back in the dating pool. Think of it as a trial run of if you decide to make this separation–”

“No, no thanks. That’s not– we’re not those people, so, you know, we can just move onto the next phase.” 

“Joel.” The mom voice of all things, and he knows for certain now that Cass is trying to win therapy, nudging her shoe into the side of his, and, come on, really? She’s really bought that hard into what Vicky’s selling? Now that, that isn’t like her, at all. 

“What feelings are coming up for you right now, Joel?” She fucking hates that question, and she imagines that he does too, fingers drumming on his knee, long sigh, and she knows that look, that’s his getting ready to bolt look. Big man, big, skittish man who has accidentally nailed his fingers to house frames and hardly shed a tear. But feelings? Yeah, forget it. 

“Uh, I guess I’m confused as to why that is so important for us to do. We came here to help our– to help us, not to create more problems.”

“And you think that if you and Cassandra went on dates, one date, with other people, that it would create more problems in your marriage?” Well, it’s hardly rocket science, Vicky, though judging by the way she’s speaking to him, he’s pretty sure he failed some kind of test of hers. He doesn’t particularly care.

“I imagine it’d do that to anyone’s marriage.” 

“It’s just one date, it’s a part of the process.” She’s starting to get pissed, and trying very hard not to show it in front of Vicky should she get the what feelings are coming up for you treatment. When they agreed to start going to therapy, like a pair of dogs gagging down a pill, they had both agreed to put their full effort into it, and if Vicky wasn’t in the room with them currently, Cassandra would sharply remind him of that agreement. 

“Maybe I should clarify the expectations around this exercise. It’s one date, preferably with people outside of your shared social circle, and it would be best if the focus is just on the date, no sexual relations.”

“Oh really, you think that’d be best?”

“Joel.” He gives her a slack and slanted look, speaking two different languages, apparently. And really, she doesn’t see what the big deal is. One date versus sixteen years is pretty obvious math for her to square up, though it doesn’t seem to be for him. But, watching him engage in psychological tennis with Vicky, some new jab dripping in sarcasm for every reassurance she tries to offer him, the realization comes to Cassandra slowly, simply. Joel is scared. 

By the time they leave Vicky’s office, he feels deflated, defeated, because yes, they are, apparently, going to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them, scheduled in three weeks instead of one to give them time to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them. 

“Can’t we just, you know, say we did it but not actually do it?” 

“Are you serious right now?” Judging by the look she gives him, a quick, sharp flicker of her eyes before she focuses back on the road, he thinks he probably shouldn’t say anything else. He shouldn’t, but, well. 

“Is this about pleasing Vicky, or are you just that interested in dating someone else?”

“Don’t be a child about this, Joel. It’s a therapeutic–”

“It’s bullshit is what it is. I don’t– I already know what I want, and I don’t need to go testing the waters to be sure of it. What I’m not so sure about is if you can say the same.” She can’t put her finger on anything specific,  probably just a slow-building amalgamation of things. Stressful week at work, and the leaking sink getting worse, and her doctor increasing a medication dosage that’s made her body feel like something other than her body, and this fucking therapy and this fucking trying and she’s trying so hard and she feels like she’s failing and when she glances at him he looks hurt, really hurt, a close crumple in his face, deep frown, and it frustrates her because all she’s trying to do is do it right, and all she gets is this constant rhythm of resistance, this push and pull and yes, it’s all of that, all of that creeping up her throat tight and hot and curling behind her eyes sending salt pinpricks and sharp pangs. When the first sob breaks, it does so as a gasp, like a small and stunned thing in her chest. And, well, it’s never uphill from there, is it?

“Do you– do we need to pull over?”

“No, I don’t need to fucking pull over. I’m not an invalid, I can cry and drive at the same time.” Except it doesn’t come out quite like that, not smooth like that. The words get stop-started with each new shudder, new stutter, hiccuping on fucking and invalid. The world has gone to slanted stained-glass through all her tears. 

Unsure what to do, but that’s nothing new. He doesn’t say anything else, watches her through the wary side of his eye, sobs turning into something more subdued, little wounded sounds high in her throat, a choice fuck you with a little more bite behind it when someone cuts her off merging onto the highway. He feels useless, feels like, maybe, this is what Vicky should be talking with them about instead of her siege on marriage plan. All he knows is that he seems to get it wrong every time, so this time, he doesn’t interject or intervene, doesn’t say any more than he already has. He lets her cry, and he lets her drive.

He doesn’t know when it happened. When he decided he was going to fix things for her, or just fix her, really. His lady in pieces and he was going to put her back together, and it seemed like every time he tried to, she just shattered a little more. That April is the obvious answer, the most shattered he had ever seen her. But the fighting had started before then, and so had the fixing that wasn’t really fixing. Like a relief, like a release, the slow realization that no, it never worked, and no, it was never going to work. The sobs turn into shivers turn into something even smaller. By the time they pull up in front of his apartment complex, it has passed. 

“I just– I want to do this right, this therapy thing, and I want it to work, and I want it to work so we can be okay again. That’s what I want.” The words hang between them. He makes no move to get out of the car, and she counts her inhales in the silence, waiting for him to say something, anything. It feels like a child’s logic, or maybe a hail Mary, and she knows it, feels a little insane saying it, the words fitting strangely in her mouth. The brief wondering comes to her, what would she have said about where they are now to her girlfriends, what snark, what sharp jokes at their expense? Him in an apartment and a fifteen minute drive separating them and a woman named Vicky unraveling (and in theory, putting back together) their marriage in phases, fucking phases, and fucking Vicky. She doesn’t want to go on a date with someone else, and she doesn’t know why she’s taking Vicky’s instructions as gospel. But she does know, doesn’t she? It’s not about Vicky, not about Vicky and her fucking phases. Fixing, being fixed, that’s what she wants. 

“So, you’re saying you want us to date other people in order to fix our marriage.” Grateful that she takes it for the joke he meant it as, it’s just enough to slough off some of the tension, roll of her eyes, please. They both let out a sigh, too tired for much else. But maybe, he thinks, this counts as progress, sitting here with her in the car and the sun washing everything down burnt and orange. He watches her eyes drop shut for a moment, fine lines like porcelain fissures and he loves those lines, liked catching her in the bathroom with her face pressed up close to the mirror and her fingers pulling those lines taut around her eyes, her mouth. He’d pull her hands away from her face, ask her if she was planning her halloween costume for next year, earning a scoff and a roll of her eyes and her trying to pull away from him, and he wouldn’t let her. Making it better with kisses to those lines, and eventually, her pressing her fingers as light as prayers over his, an implicit wondering, where did the time go?

“Look, if it really makes you that uncomfortable, let’s just lie to Vicky. We could still get like, an A-minus in therapy if we leave just one thing out.”

“I didn’t realize therapy came with a grade.” He smiles, all soft, and she can’t help the sheepish bloom in her chest, rolling her lips back into her mouth to hide her own grin, eventually, reluctantly, admitting in a quiet, skewed to the side voice, okay, so maybe, maybe I was doing that thing, that winning thing. He doesn’t say anything, and that’s a mercy. Just nods, of course, and of course, he knew, maybe even before she did, and is that knowing not a mercy too? She thinks it is. 

“I want to do this right too, Cass. And, I mean, we’re paying Vicky enough money that we should do what she tells us to.”

“Are you saying you want to do it then?”

“Want is a strong word.”

“Okay, are you saying you’re willing to do it?” 

“It’s just the one?”

“Just the one.” 

“Alright, fuck it, let’s do it. We better get a goddamn A-plus at the end of this.” 

“Mmm, gold stars too.” Another sigh, another settling. How nice, another sigh, another settling. It’s a strange equation, but she thinks it still adds up. Neither of them want to do this, not really, but they’re willing to, and they’re willing to because of each other. Willing to try and get it right for each other. Just, well, ignore the finer details of what getting it right entails. 

“You hear from Sarah lately?”

“On Monday, yeah. Called to wish me a happy birthday.”

“Well, only off by four days, not too bad.”

“Oh no, she called on Monday because she was, and I quote, too busy the rest of the week to call.”

“Wow.”

“Right?”

“Is it bad that sometimes I kinda hate it?”

“Hate what?”

“That she’s like, a fully-formed person now. I miss the days when she was a little blob who liked holding onto me by one of my belt loops.” He has to smile, nod, because he knows exactly what she means. And the truth of it is that Sarah was so good, maybe the best, if he’s allowed to give his completely biased opinion. And the other truth, Cass is, was, one of those people simply meant to be a parent, a mother. He remembers when they first started dating, and all the exhausting maneuvering he did, getting his parents or Tommy to watch Sarah, a string of canceled dinner plans when his kid couldn’t seem to stop catching things at daycare. He was sure that Cass would lose interest every time another piece of his reality was revealed to her. After all, he was not unfamiliar with being left behind. But that never happened, she stayed every time. 

It was Cass who first suggested it. Didn't want to impose, but what if, maybe we could, would it be okay if, why don’t we. They went to the zoo that weekend, if he remembers correctly, Sarah in tow, shy at first around the woman she barely knew, though she bloomed over the course of the day. Yes, he thinks, it was the zoo, because he remembers how by the end of the day, Cass had her on her hip, as easy as anything, so she could get a better view of the rhinos. He knows now that, even in those earliest days, she loved his kid just as much as she loved him. He knows now what a gift that was, and continues to be. 

“She’s gonna be alright, Cass. We did good with her.” She sighs, yeah, we did. She had been worried about telling her about the whole lieutenant-LMFT thing, the whole quasi-separation thing, but that was a direct command from Vicky, letting the family know what was going on. Sarah had taken it surprisingly well when she called, could be good, mom, like a reset. Of course, they kept the worst of it away from her, and of course, she still knew something had changed, something not right between them. No one was left unscathed after that April.

From the start, loving him included loving Sarah. It was never difficult for her to do both. Sweet girl, bright like the sun girl, rounded cheeks and bouncing curls, and Cassandra found that her love for her had a particular effect on her heart. Whenever small hand reached for one of hers, whenever small face tucked into her neck, whether tear-damp or milk-tired, and eventually, whenever she was given the name mom, like a stop and restart of her heart, like something turning back on inside her and finally working right. An everything kind of love, to not only be chosen by him, but to be chosen by her too. 

“Well, anyways, Vicky didn’t make any stipulations about birthdays, so I have something for you.” Just a small thing, she says, leaning over the console and into the back seat, and he knows better than to say no, shouldn’t have, because there’s already a perfect package being placed in his hands, navy blue wrapping paper and a white bow, and her hand cups underneath his for just a moment, there and gone. 

The truth is she had already picked out this gift two months ago, what feels like a lifetime before this separation. Now, watching him open it, she’s a little worried it had been presumptuous of her, if not completely narcissistic. But if he thinks that, he makes no show of it, lets out a quiet laugh as he takes the watch out of the box and holds it up in the fading light to look at it. 

“It’s a little sappy, maybe. But, well, we have something that kinda matches now.” Something is unfurling in his chest, heat loosening something he didn’t even realize he had been tightening up around. It’s a beautiful watch, rich leather strap and polished silver. And the face of it catches and shimmers a little in the light. He knows right away that it’s mother of pearl. 

Here, she says, let me, and he does, feeling a little indulgent watching her fasten the watch around his wrist, and definitely breaking one of fucking Vicky’s fucking rules when he ducks his head down and steals a kiss, another one, letting the third deepen just a little, both of them humming because missed this, missed this, didn’t realize how much, but missed this. 

“Thank you, pearly.” It feels good to be so close to him, noses brushing and smiles curling around each other. Feels like a relief. 

“Happy birthday, one day ahead. We could, you know, do something tomorrow? Get dinner maybe?” Before he can answer, say yes, she’s already caught herself, sheepish smile and pulling a little further away and oh, right. She says sorry, wasn’t thinking, and they do an awkward dance around the whole thing, right, yeah, probably shouldn’t, right, yeah. He is not a hateful man, and it would be too strong to say he’d wish Vicky harm. But if something were to happen, in theory, that’d make Vicky go the fuck away, in theory, he wouldn’t be too torn up about it. 

“See you next Thursday then?”

“Well, next next Thursday, because we have to do the– yeah.”

“Right, yeah.” Right, yeah, this is the part where he gets out of the car. The part where he goes up to his apartment and she drives home and they don’t eat dinner together and they don’t brush their teeth together and they don’t go to sleep together. Right, yeah. They say goodnight. He’d like to say love, but he doesn’t. She’d like to say love, but she doesn’t. And they part ways. 

She hates being in this house alone. Leaves all the lights on all hours of the day and checks all the locks three times before going upstairs to bed. Passes by the closed door that remains closed with her breath held. She knows it makes no sense, but she’s been sleeping in the guestroom, makes the whole thing a little easier. Always had a tendency toward insomnia, tossing and turning brain and body. 

When they were just starting to get more serious, and she was just starting to stay over at his more often, she got worried that eventually it'd drive him mad enough for the whole thing to not be worth it, neither of them getting much sleep as they learned how to share a bed together. And she doesn't remember how it started exactly, maybe out of a moment of pure exasperation, him draping just enough of his weight over her to press slower breath into her lungs and still her body. It became a routine, she'd ask could you? And he'd already know what she was asking for without her having to say any more than that. What she also doesn't remember, when that stopped working, when she stopped asking, and he stopped answering. She supposes it all happened slowly, just like the rest of it. 

[the-s1lly-corner]

Maybe, reader is super funny and have a super funny laugh? like, they can laugh from literally everything, and their laughter is like the whistling of a kettle. I hope you understand me

TADC cast x reader w/ a funny laugh!

You guys know how I said that I was gonna go to sleep ab 5 ish hours ago because I had to work on a bunch of stuff the next day

Its uh

Now 4am, could not sleep at all. This always happens when I know I have busy days coming up. I hate it so much, melatonin hasnt worked. Meditating hadnt worked. Everything dodnt work

Blugh

Anyways! New mission is to keep myself awake between working on stuff to try not to get tempted to nap today

So uh... more requests will be answered today

Hope you guys enjoy this !! I was admittedly a little lost on ideas for this request 😭 not sure if it's this specific request or because I've been writing so so much <\3

The writers block be hittin

CAINE:

Honestly caine seems like a comedy sort of guy, you know? He looks like he enjoys telling and hearing a good joke every now and then. So I can easily see you two just rattling off jokes to each other until your digital lungs cant handle the sheer amount you guys are laughing!

I think he would lightly tease you for your laugh, but it's all in good fun!

POMNI:

I think she would be able to find some humor in your jokes, even through her desperation to escape the circus. I think that there would be some occasions where she would tell you to cut it out with the jokes, mostly if shes trying to look around for any clues of an exit

As for the laugh, I think it REALLY catches her off guard, especially in the beginning. Probably just stands there awkwardly

RAGATHA:

Honestly I personally see ragatha not being able to tell good jokes, be it because they dont make sense or because the punchline just isnt that funny.... perhaps both. Point is only the dullest of people will laugh at her attempts. With that being said I think she would love hearing you chatter! Really helps take the stress out of a hard day

I think your laugh would make her laugh harder. Then make you laugh harder, which makes her laugh-

Okay you get the point. It's like a whole loop

JAX:

Now this man can be a real jokester. Sure a lot of his jokes revolve around some level of meanness and teasing, so theres a chance your senses of humor may clash against one another. Afterall, humor that relies on making fun of people isnt for everyone and it can only go so far until it steps into bullying territory. Similar to caine, you two have a "joke off"

I think he would either find your laugh really goofy, or annoying. No in between though it may vary by the day. Probably gives you a nickname based on what your laugh sounds like

KINGER:

He gives dad vibes so by law he has to enjoy dad jokes, that's his humor. Bad cheesy jokes are his go to. I don't think he himself makes many jokes, given his current state,but I think he does appreciate it when you go off and tell him a bunch of jokes

I think if you had a really distinct or intense laugh it would catch him off guard, but ultimately he grows used to it

ZOOBLE:

Doesnt really understand how you can laugh at literally anything. Well, unless its jax getting karma for his antics.. then maybe they would laugh along with you. As funny as they think you are, I dont think they would be able to listen to jokes and funny stories every day for an extended period of time. Zooble had a short social battery imo and they do like their alone time. Nothing against you, this is just how they are!

Very similar to jax in regards to your laugh, just without the nickname portion. I think they would feel just a touch bad if your laugh happens to irritate them, they at least understand you cant really. Change your laugh

GANGLE:

Ohohohoh when she had her comedy mask, you guys are bouncing off one another like in Caines piece! However when her comedy mask is broken and shes shedding tears, your jokes can still make her lighten up just a bit.. so hey at least its helping someone..!

Honestly she kind of finds your laugh endearing. It's just so genuine and open, you dont try to hide your laugh or suppress it or try to change it. I dunno, maybe I'm putting too much thought into gangle having a mask that literally effects her mood and demeanor, but I think she would wish she could be as open as you

.. or maybe she just thinks you're cute

[neonscandal]

If you were asked who is the better antagonist in JJK or BNHA, who would they be? I found some similar ask that asked, "who is better antagonists between Kenjaku, Toji or Sukuna"? And what I think about is the antagonist in BNHA are cool, too.... What do you think?

I can't tell if this is a comparative question of JJK vs BNHA or just generally the best of both soooo I'll try to answer to the best of my interpretation.

⚠️ There's a spoiler warning for the below, I'm just riding the struggle bus today so assume spoilers through recent chapters.

Jujutsu Kaisen

🏆 Best Antagonist: Kenjaku

The Competition

Don't get me wrong, Mahito and Toji are certified demons too but their impact on the story is not as expansive. Admittedly, this is kind of silly considering Toji and his justified denouncement of jujutsu culture is precisely what creates the chasm that informs the greater conflicts we're currently in the midst of. Personally, I think Toji will make one more comeback on the side of the good guys, somehow. It's not outside of the realm of possibility and, based on spoilers around Chapter 236, he's been potentially alluded to as some sort of insurance. Who else's father could Gojo have been talking about unless Jin is still alive?

Regarding Mahito, I think an interesting insight into his character is buried in one of the light novels. He mentions it in the fight with Yuji to a degree to in that he's a mirror of humanity. He rampages as he sees violence in the world. But when encountered by a human at peace, he, too, found peace and his interest piqued. Ultimately, Mahito was a knife in the heart that just kept twisting but he was nothing more than a rabid dog interested in seeing what kind of curse Yuji's turmoil might bring about. How many times could he rend his soul without laying a finger on him.

Kenjaku, however, is insidious in the fact that his power spans millennia and I don't think we've seen the full exposition of his impact. With his ability to commandeer bodies, he did whatever he wanted throughout history using the bodies of countless people and why? Sick curiosity. There's no rhyme, no reason, he just wants to see how big of a clusterfuck he can make of the world and, so far, we've only seen a few of the ripples of that. He is both unpredictable and, yet, exceptionally cunning and resourceful. Who knows how many back alley deals he made with the reincarnated sorcerers. How many other cursed paintings, artifacts or vessels he forged that haven't revealed themselves. Where Toji and Mahito kinda allowed themselves to fly off the handle, Kenjaku is playing a long game of chess. I've considered whether Geto was doomed by the narrative and, I think we'll find that Kenjaku was a part of what pushed Geto to his ultimate defect to better line up his next body. Scarily, Kenjaku had the time and means to plot where that possibility isn't that far off.

Sukuna, similarly cunning, is the villain of the story with all the traditional markers of being the big bad and, seemingly, unredeemable but Kenjaku effectively could have put the whole course of events into action a thousand years ago. I also always think its funny that Gojo randomly rattles off facts from other eras/periods. I don't know that that isn't by design either.

My Hero Academia

🏆 Best Antagonist: Dabi

The Competition

I think we've seen the resolution of Toga's story and, as far as antagonists go, she added a degree of mayhem on the final battlefield when, in mourning Twice, she let forth his Sad Man's Parade. While she has the quintessential recipe of being cast aside, misunderstood and vilified on the basis of her quirk (see also: Spinner and Shigaraki), I think she more served as a device for character development or a parallel to Deku. Having found acceptance with Ochako, her current status is unknown.

Spinner really had a big moment at the hospital but namely as a pawn for AFO. He kind of waffled around, wringing his hands over whether LOV was true to Stain's vision before choosing to follow Shigaraki. But his lack of resolve coupled with a forced power up ultimately fumbles what could have been a huge win for the LOV at the hospital. Actually, Spinner probably could have been utilized better but his story was overshadowed by Shoji coming into his own. Maybe his purpose was really just to be the real time example of someone wanting to do the right thing, ending up on the wrong side, having so many opportunities to do better but sacrificing that path for whatever acceptance he found with the League.

Shigaraki is an obvious choice for villain but, we can see how tenuous his connection to villainy is. He, like the other members of the LOV, are ultimately the product of never having someone reach out a hand to help but I think we're getting closer to Deku untangling the knot of his trauma and it'll be what frees him of the grasp AFO has on him. Further, while Shigaraki was ultimately dubbed the prodigal successor of AFO, his struggle to enact a grand scheme to unite the League and the Paranormal Liberation Front, I think, is more indicative of what we've noted to be a really immature mindset. He's no diabolical genius.

Which leads me to the best antagonist, in my opinion. Ain't no vengeance like that of Touya MF Todoroki. In addition to burying the lede of his identity for so long just to build up to one magnificent, triumphant dance, Dabi's origin story is so zesty. Born into the pinnacle Haves of quirk society, he was on track to follow in Endeavor's footsteps only to have so many odds stacked against him. The right quirk but incompatible with his body. Still, he wasn't deterred and his similarly obsessive commitment to besting All Might for Enji causes him to self destruct. He winds up in AFO's clutches. Found and rehabilitated by Garaki, he dips without so much as a name only to resurface years later. Still a phantom. Still guided by his twisted need to make his father just as miserable as he was when he found out he was not sought after despite the years that passed. Not only that but, spoiler for the big Shiggy Showdown (chapter number escapes me), but he is unaffected by the reconciliation of his family. Unbothered by their pleas or the fact that he'd burned through his own skin, nerves, pain receptors, organs. He is possessed by his need to wreak havoc and he cries tears of blood to boot. This doesn't undermine the tragedy of his origin story - his stolen birthright, the inequities of what should have been his given his quirk and tenacity, the fact that at the height of his power he can't help but cry. Just like the rest of the League of Villains, he is just the product of a family who did not adequately support or care for him and a society that cast him aside. He just also happens to have grander schemes at play, the exposition of which provided a more comprehensive understanding of hero society and its failures which was Shigaraki's desire all along to shift the whole paradigm. What sets Dabi apart from other antagonists, in my opinion, is that there really aren't villains in MHA. Just people waiting to be moved by how earnest Deku is or rehabilitated by their own recognizance. This is as it applies to Stain, Gentle Criminal, La Brava, Lady Nagant and even Overhaul (so I won't bother going into them individually). But Dabi stays 10 toes down on his commitment to madness. I'm still uncertain whether his charred corpse will actually see redemption but it stands to be seen.

All For One is of course the irredeemable demon lord and I'm not sure the power of friendship is going to affect anything there.

Winner Take All

Best Antagonist: Kenjaku. This largely stems from my belief that, despite his death in recent chapters, we're going to get additional exposition into his depraved dealings or another layer of his plans that lays in wait and is ready to devastate us all. The possibilities there are endless with the way the story oscillates from present to past.

Bonus, Best Villain: Gege Akutami. They know what they did.

[synergysilhouette]

My feelings on some of the Gen 1 relationships in Monster High

I've been wanting to make this for a while! I don't remember every aspect of these relationships, but I did want to put my feelings down on them. Lemme know what you think.

Frankie

Deuce--2/10. Admittedly not an actual ship, but just a crush, Frankie was so interested in impressing Cleo that she lied and said Deuce was her boyfriend. She later apologized to Cleo and gave Deuce the "but we're cool, right?" brush off. It was very annoying, since it seemed to show that Frankie didn't really care about the fact that she got a guy in trouble with his girlfriend (who didn't even apologize to him for jumping to conclusions) just because he caught her eye.

Andy--6/10. I loved this ship for a long time, until my memory of it faded and someone reminded me that Andy was drawn to Frankie because she looked like his ex. Plus they wrote him off without any warning and he's never seen again despite enrolling (except for perhaps a cameo in "Freaky Fusion"?)

HooDude--3/10. Frankie did him so wrong. Feeling left out by her friends, she decides to make a fake boyfriend, only to throw im away when her friends tell her to be herself, deciding she wasn't ready for boys yet. Turns out he's actually alive, and is heartbroken by it. I know everyone says "she didn't know he was alive at first," but considering this is how she was made herself, it's pretty annoying that she didn't think about this. I love her, but she isn't literally 15 days old. Plus Frankie making him obsessed with her results in him being kicked out of the house and placed under the care of Ms. Kindergrubber. Maybe if Frankie hadn't gone overboard, they could've had a sibling relationship and he wouldn't have to have been kicked out.

Jackson/Holt--5/10. I could go either way with this. Jackson has obvious feelings for Frankie, but I don't recall if she ever openly reciprocated. Personally I feel like they're on two different wavelengths; Frankie is on the upside of the school hierarchy while Jackson is on the downside. They just seem like they run in different circles, but I enjoy the idea of two characters like them getting together.

Neigthan--8/10. Okay, I'm biased because I like Neighthan's character and the fact that he's a hybrid monster. Frankie helps him with self-confidence and he has a chill attitude that balances out her voltageous excitement. Don't judge me.

Cleo de Nile

Deuce--4/10. I can't be the only one who thinks that Deuce's personality changed when Yuri Lowenthal stopped voicing him, but I digress. I feel like there's a weird power dynamic going on with Cleo and Deuce; Cleo is often dramatic and spoiled while Deuce is laid back and cool. While I like them individually, it feels like Cleo takes Deuce for granted a lot, especially when she bosses him around. "Scaris" felt particularly weird with how Deuce becomes clingy after Cleo doesn't text or call him within a short period of time and asks her never to do so again. It makes him feel like he has no life without her, which is a giant red flag. It astounds me that they had toxic moments and yet "Boo York" had Deuce feeling like he wasn't good enough for her without Cleo really doing any soulsearching for why he may feel that way.

Draculaura

Heath--5/10. I feel like they had potential beyond just one episode, and I could've seen them being a cute, fan-favorite couple. Kinda wish that was referenced again later.

Clawd--6/10. They seem like one of the more stable couples, but Draculaura literally treating him like a dog just feels..weird. Especially when she hit him with a newspaper for being bad. I can't imagine Clawdeen or Howleen being in a relationship with a manster and them treating them like that. Maybe it would've been better if we had episodes where Clawd asked Draculaura to treat him like that, but I don't know. It would've still been weird.

Lagoona

Gil--4/10. Gil having racist parents isn't his fault, but it definitely feels like he was stringing Lagoona along at certain points.

Abbey

Romulus--5/10. They didn't actually date, but I was interested to see more of his character, and I'd be curious as to how their romance compared to Draculaura and Clawd's. He seemed rather bashful around her, which was an adorable new side of him.

Heath--7/10. I love the opposites attract vibe, and how they didn't feel too different to the point where I don't like them together. It's a really cute romance.

Ghoulia

Slo Mo--6/10. I'd give it more, but sadly the mansters don't get as much attention. That said, despite his basic design, Slo Mo is a sweet character, as he strives to become smart enough for Ghoulia (side note: I appreciate that despite talking the same, zombies don't all share the same intelligence--or at the very least, Ghoulia is the exception), and I do wish Monster High worked to show him developing more as a result of his relationship with the smartest Ghoul in school. They deserved more, but given how mansters are treated and how underrated Ghoulia is, it's unsurprising that this is the case.

[whiskeysmulti]

Let’s see… how to start with Fiore. When she first saw him, she did feel a bit intimidated and scared—but that can also be attributed to the fact that their first meeting, she was already being hassled by some goons so she was like ‘oh dear, just my luck. Another one.’ He did quickly prove her wrong though. He also was very quick to shoot lol, but given her father/brother, she’s not all that scared by guns as a concept? She was more impressed. Then knowing he has a bit of a gentleman-esque attitude to him, there is a feeling of being impressed and feeling secure when she looks at him.

Admittedly, she does feel a bit confused when he treats her nicely or is polite/gentlemanly towards her as she’s not all that used to it. (Lore context time hohoh) Fiore had a bit of a tomboyish streak when she was younger? A bit more wild and energetic. You may think that’s okay but for the time period, that certainly doesn’t bode well. So at some point, after some ladies had spoken ill about her, that’s when Fiore’s mother started becoming very strict with her. She can’t have a daughter be the reason she gets looked down upon by other ladies in the social circle. Still, some old impressions are hard to forget, so many people still associate Fiore with how she was when she was younger.

It doesn’t help that her temper does tend to leak when she’s around her brother or around people who have known her since forever. So, a lot of the guys who grew up around her, a lot of them don’t really treat her like they would your average lady. They kinda bring up her past as a way to upset her because it’s funny to them to see what they can do to make her façade crack. They make it into a game of sorts. Also talked about the whole thing with the military, and so some of the guys there treat her like thirsty wolves if her father isn’t around. In other words, she’s not used to being treated decently. Sadge.

All this to say, when she sees him, she does feel a bit of confusion as well as gratitude. He treats her like a regular person ought to be treated and so she feels comfortable around him. So this brings about a thought that he’s just a really nice person, despite how he looks. So, she has the image of him being a kind person who isn’t afraid to just assert a strong foot if needed. She hasn’t yet clued into the fact that he likes her. Due to the fact that she feels that she herself is lacking, she doesn’t think he’d like her romantically. She often is in trouble when they meet, so it’s more likely (in her mind) that he lowkey feels annoyed by her.

So, there is a bit of insecurity and anxiety she feels when she sees him because she thinks lowly about herself. That said, why does she continue to meet with him anyways? It’s probably due to the fact that he’s nice to her and has been patient with her up until now, so she also feels hope that maybe he would find her okay to be with. I hurt myself with this. ((OOC: I uh… failed to keep it UNDER 12, but I managed to STOP at 12? That sound count for something))

Describe how your Muse feels when they look at my Muse.- no longer accepting!

.Whiskey. 'Just my luck, another one.' lmfao! But you did bring up some valid points. Looking at the time frame, there were societal norms to adhere to and neither of them fit the bill. Fiore being deemed unladylike and a bad choice for a wife, G was probably considered your standard hoodlum at the time as well. But they both have that layer underneath that they see in each other, G seeing a potential wife in Fiore and Fiore realizing in spite of his looks and roughness he's still a gentleman with her and nothing like actual hoodlums she's put up with.

Lol I recall us talking about that though that Fiore might not get the hint that he likes her and is thinking something akin to "oh G's a really nice guy." just for Asari or Giotto or someone else in the family to be like "Him? Nice? Are we talking about the same guy?" Which is a wonderful way to find out all the potential shit your new bf has possibly done and not told you, but also plays up the fact that no matter how much you think you know a guy, you don't know him like his boys do.

And yes, they both have their own insecurity I think and I feel like that's something they can help each other heal from. Just constant reassurance that this is their own choice, to hell with what their families wanted for them, because considering my headcanons for G I feel like he's estranged from his family possibly for his own reasons, or another route I thought of taking with it to bounce off the fact that Fiore at first feared they might be hostile to military forces as well as the cops, what if G had a military background in his family too. Like what if he came from an Army family and his dad had all this ambition of turning him into a soldier and it failed? How do you think that would work with her?

[maneaterwithtail]

I'm always torn on this because I've heard multiple conflicting information on the star of David being a literal jewish symbol aa opposed to 1 that's been assigned to them or a cultural catch on sort of like wearing headscarves

I mean obviously this fanart is just for fun and it's not necessarily bad and being other or a form of someone who is slightly out of line is a part of what characterizes these folks. so it's understandable anything that catches on or resonates with that could be assigned

At the exact same time, there's something to be said about being aware that there's something more to a culture than it's just not being mainstream and having its own unique needs experiences struggles and what have you

Having the insanely tall, light eyed, blonde haired guy with a full body Characterized as jewish just because he's disliked for his unusual behavior, which is deliberately unusual and born out of inconsideration/nd not so much cultural or religious matters feels a bit off

Even more so when you tap into more specific issues he's having with family. mainly not being able to fit with the culture and traditions of his people and how they've been hurtful to him and his sister. at least by his assessment (why would hewish mother assume daughter cursed and treat her like that?)

But finally perhaps the worst is that I'm thinking of an old old old anime movie known as project A-ko 3...or 4

We have a full on ancient alien conspiracy going on and then it's pointed out that the star of David is actually 2 isoscles triangles intersecting with each other i.e. a common geometric shape that's going to have a certain level of appeal and multiple uses and meanings. so even across the stars it could literally be a coincidence.

now admittedly this was a deliberate comedy gag in a parody anime movie series

But it's for this reason alone that I've learned not to go 'okay if I see this sign I might not actually know what it's about. it could be a hexagram. it could be related. simple coincidence. Spiritual symbol. or not. and if it is I probably want to hold off"

Just my personal thoughts and responses to this whole idea

But

because someone did go through the trouble of actually drawing and sharing something that they imagined yes this is funny charming and witty.

I like that I can notice the characters. I'm glad that scene inspired you to have some ideas and wonder what the characters would be like if this was the interpretation or meaning that might apply to them in their setting.

Actually I want to ask you further questions. given the relative time period that may be alluded to in the series, what if any traditions or implements will be used in terms of the coming of age ceremony of jewish men and women at the time?

Everything is of course subject to change and of course I understand that there are regional aspects as well as time period ones.

so I'm curious genuinely if they would have bar mitzvah and if so what would they look like? could they run them? it's my understanding that lios isn't just some random guy he's actually the son of someone with authority in the village if not the village chief

Even if this isn't the case they at the very least had the opportunity to ship their daughter to a foreign high boarding school. that might have been as much a cultural matter as opposed to a class opportunity

But adapting what would be the equivalent of Judaism or the jewish people into the world of dungeon meshi would be kind of interesting to consider without focus on representational value

Certainly wouldn't want to offend the jewish heritage and history and ideas and concepts but at the same time much as toshiro isn't exactly the most faithful or charming display of Japanese culture I hope that the primary idea of engaging with hey what if the toden's are in fact jewish or their people have greater influence from people's or groups. Maybe human faith/religion isn't presumed to draw. From universalized to the point of sludge Christian tradition or iconography but whatever cultural enclave can use as touden base

Is it possible for instance that Judaism is accepted on a level of cultural appreciation not necessarily actual honor authority that in order to be thought of as having class or Religious legitimacy a lot of its aesthetics iconography and rituals have been plucked alongside and throughout the peppered human villages and cities that are around the world of delicious in dungeon?

For instance there are lots of aspects that just read to us as Japanese cultural of Wa that would naturally have to tie into India and thus Buddhism and Hindi culture trying to sort of exist

Yet at the exact same time could not. along with say Korea and various dynasties of China.

And finally as has been pointed out there are a lot of new world vegetables cuisine and ecology in a show that very much emphasizes the point of ecology and social development in how things are made and get to where they are

I am not going to knock the ethnic diversity in DinD

Just amongst the humans, dwarves, and elves themseleves division race/ethnic, generational, class and other winnowing

But I mean where are the native Americans? we got their crops.

Where are the Americas? and how have they been affected by having a presumably even longer lasting more capable empires that even as they are dissolving and falling into themselves would be incredibly powerful and influential as noted with a boomtown on the island being subject to just one random ship showing up and basically believed to have their way?

watching new dunmeshi ep

[arcplaysgames]

Well you said "gender" so now people give a shit.

gosh you know what yeah, in America we get taught that Frankenstein is the first work of science fiction, but the story of Kaguya honestly fits the bill much better-

gurl what

MORGANA IS A VOLKSWAGON NOW

This line made me laugh out loud tbh. Way to hang a lampshade.

Okay so instead of Tartarus, we have Mementos. Admittedly not as pithy of a name. Morgana is hoping to unlock the secret of their true form by exploring deeper into Mementos, delving into the collective subconscious.

I love you, Ann.

Does Morgana not remember whether they are boy or gorl or other? That's very telling. By all means, if he feels like a boy, neat. But the fact that there are a lot of question marks around that makes me think once again that Morgana isn't human but is some manifestation of something from the collective unconsciousness, like Teddie was.

Also Morgana gives me massive Teddie vibes anyway. Oh, the annoying mascot character who I wind up liking a whole bunch? but a CAT THIS TIME instead of a white guy? Perfect.

Maybe Notigor is the Big Bad of the game while Morgana is the Big Good. Notigor represents confinement and false accusations and abuse of authority masquerading as "rehabilitation." Morgana has thus far enabled actual rehabilitation.

But we're so early on, who fucking knows. I am very interested in Morgana's arc tho. Like Teddie as the Star, Morgana's SLink is on a plot-progression time table, so I assume he's going to be tied to the themes of the story like Teddie was.

also the degree to which i mistrust this child cannot be overstated. FEAR ALL PRECOCIOUS CHILDREN. You better fucking not be the Justice arcana, child, i swear to fuck.

WOW Mishima's personality change now that Kamoshida is gone!!!!

Which: makes sense. He was one of the preferred punching bags and was the fucking grim reaper to his classmates, sending them to see Kamoshida for their daily beatings. Breaking loose from that would inspire a dramatic turn, easy.

He's the one who set up the Phan-Site (lmao, nice pun tbh) for the Thieves. He really really really wants to get in on helping them out and is, uh. Mildly overeager.

Moon arcana, huh. I'm being a nerd and staring at one of my own Moon cards rn.

Moon and Hanged Man are very similar in my eyes. Hanged Man is about the Choice but with the Moon, it's a place you find yourself eventually. When there has been a dramatic change in your life, the Moon represents the period of calm after. The usual depiction is of the Moon's reflection, actually, bouncing up from a pond or river, and drawing the attention of a fish or scorpion or something else.

The Moon is like staring into a mirror. It can help you understand yourself and become re-acquainted after a traumatic event. But it can also drag your journey to a halt and even lead you into madness if you don't figure out how to look away and understand what reality is.

Mishima has def been through the traumatic incident. My fear is that he throws himself too far into the Phan-Site thing and needs help clawing his way out.

also, in the Death route, I am picking the most ridiculous options and I cackled at her response. there ain't a drug that can fix Reverie Vantas The Fifth lmao.

anyway, LOOK AT THE FUCKING POLLEN

As someone living in the american south, I can look out my window right now and see my car fucking covered in a sheet of pollen. IT'S HELL. IT SUCKS. FUCKING GODDAMN TREES, STOP IT!

[safarigirlsp]

Did you see the announcement that Adam is going to be in Heat 2 with Michael Mann again? What are your thoughts on that? Do you have any dream team directors you would like to see him work with? I wish he’d do the Chloe Zhao Dracula movie!

HI! Sorry it took me a while to get to this.

I did hear the Michael Mann announcement, and all AD movie announcements are definitely good news to me! I've never been super impressed with Mann as a director and I have disliked all of his movies that I've seen, which admittedly aren't all of them. I'd be very happy if he did a Last Mohicans 2 and let AD have long hair and run around shirtless for 2 hours fucking people up with a hatchet, but Heat 2 isn't really blowing my skirt up. In all fairness, I've never Heat 1 so now I need to. I'll see how he looks in it before I get too excited lol. I made that mistake with Megalopolis by getting super excited over an upcoming movie only to have my hopes crushed when the first pics leaked. Megalopolis now falls under the same category for me as White Noise - I'll watch it, but I'm going to bitch the whole time, and need a Jacques and Mills mental palette cleanser afterward!

I haven't see a Chloe Zhao movie, so I can't weigh in on her as a director. But I have heard the Dracula rumors and how it's supposed to be a Dracula Western and omfg I would love that!! That would definitely be on my dream list of AD movies. However, I personally speculate that with the new stupidly fun looking Nic Cage Dracula movie coming out, AD will not want to take a Dracula role. Which is really too bad. But I think he likes to be more original than that. I'd love to be wrong though!

Here are the directors I'd love to see him work with! The first three are my top three in order, then they're just random as they came into my head.

Chad Stahelski aka the John Wick director! AD needs to be the next John Wick! Or a bad guy in a John Wick movie! Or anything similar! Absolutely one of my dream roles for him! The John Wick movies are favorites, complete with some of the best action around, hot and well dressed men, gorgeous cinematography, and kick ass music. I love them! AD in a John Wick sort of role and all the things that are bound up in that get my #1 vote!

Quentin Tarantino. I have my fingers crossed that AD will be in his upcoming movie! That would be a dream for me! Inglorious Basterds, Once Upon A Time in Hollywood, Django Unchained, and Deathproof are some favorites of mine. AD really has to get Tarantino on his punch card for the best directors out there, and I really hope he doesn't miss the opportunity to work with him.

Clint Eastwood. Preferably in a western playing a scruffy cowboy with facial scars! I love Clint Eastwood and he's so good and genuine with creating rugged manly men. I grew up watching his movies and loving them all and I still do. Unforgiven, The Outlaw Josey Wales, and Two Mules for Sister Sara are favorites of mine.

Robert Eggars. I would actually bet that AD will team up with him at some point because they’re both young and have plenty of time to do so, and they both like strong talent and making dark weird things. They’re meant for each other! I personally want another hyper masculine role like Northman. I would kill to see AD in something like that! They could even repeat the naked volcano fight and I wouldn't mind at all!

Tim Burton. Gorgeous movies with great occult vibes! AD would be perfect to play a dark disturbed Victorian dude!

Guy Richie. Great action, great characters, hilarious dialogue. His movies are all a blast!

Kenneth Branagh. HIs movies are so beautiful! I'd kill for AD to have been in Death on the Nile! That would have kept my adventurer vibes going for years! Any intelligent, beautifully filmed, period murder mystery would be great by me.

Guillermo Del Toro. Another director who does beautiful and dark so well! Weird, macabre, and a match made in heaven!

Ridley Scott. In another period movie! By making him so unbelievably hot as Jacques and letting him lean fully into his hotness, Ridley is now one of my all-time favorite directors! He was in my favorites anyway and I love so many of his movies, but that gave him an extra boost! Ridley did two awesome period movies with Russell Crowe. They actually did five movies together total - three of them were great and one was even a romantic comedy! Ridley owes the same with AD as a minimum! He's another top tier choice for me for another period piece or an epic.

After Cocaine Bear, Elizabeth Banks gets my vote for the woman director he should work with first! That was so much fun and I would love to see AD in a campy action/horror comedy where he could do dark physical comedy.

These next three would never happen, but it’d be so much fun!

Gore Verbinsky. Some first rate adventure like Pirates of the Caribbean! I love those moves so much!

Stephen Sommers. The Mummy and Van Helsing are some of my all time favorites and anything similar would be a blast with him!

Baz Lurhman. I don’t actually like a lot of his movies, but they’re all SO gorgeous and he lets his men be hot! AD needs to make more pretty movies! Baz took my second favorite, Hugh Jackman, and gave him his hottest role ever in the western Australia. It was hard to top Wolverine, but Baz did it!

I actually feel super lucky and very happy that two of my dream roles for him he’s already done, and even luckier that they’re the two where I find him the absolute hottest! A badass knight and a rugged action hero!

I'd love to know who everyone else has on their dream list of directors if anyone wants to weigh in!

[starlight--writings]

Dating Badboy!Bucky Barnes in high school would include

Badboy!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

A.N: My time has come. Modern High School AU with Friends to Lovers 😁🙃. Take a seat, this is gonna take a while.

Warning’s: Swearing, Talks about sex, Fighting,

It started out with the cliché, new girl thing.

You had moved to Brooklyn from Beacon Hills (not an actual place, but of you get it I love you)

You’d been there for about a month when you met Bucky

But you’d heard about him, mainly because you sat next to Steve in art class, but people would whisper about him

Your meeting wasn’t the most gracious, he spilt his coffee over you

Admittedly, you hadn’t been looking where you were going before you walked into him, full force. “Holy shit I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” When you looked up you expected the person to be mad, but he wasn’t. Bucky’s face held a small smile as his ocean blue eyes scanned your body for any injuries. “I wasn’t looking either. But it’s okay, just a bit of spilt coffee.” You felt so embarrassed.

“I’ll pay you back for the coffee.” you told him. “No, I’ll forget the coffee if you take my spare shirt.” “What?” Bucky tried to avoid your eyes and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, your white shirt has coffee on it. And it’s kinda goin’ see through.” You looked down to see that your white shirt with the phases of the moon on it was in fact going see through, showing the world your bright red bra.

You walked around in his red Henley for the rest of the day

After you had returned his shirt he kind of ignored you in the corridors and in lessons

About two weeks later you had art last period and you and Steve had decided to stay behind to carry on. Bucky hadn’t got the memo and had come to pick up Steve

When he stood in the door way watching the pair of you talking and laughing - covered in paint in front of your canvases, he knew that he had to get to know you now

The three of you started hanging out together and you all became good friends

He was a bit grumpy about it at first as it was Steve’s idea, but after a while he softened up and he let you into his life properly

He asked Steve about you a lot to try and find out things about you. Steve would roll his eyes but tell him anyway

“What’s she like Stevie?” “The same as when we hang out with her Buck.” Bucky groaned. “What kind of things does she like? Books? Music? Movies? TV shows? What does she like to draw?” Steve laughed at him. “Why don’t you ask her?” “Because it’s hard.” “The big bad wolf is nervous about talking to a girl!” Bucky rolled his eyes.

After (finally) finding out that you loved things about space, he started calling you ‘moonbeam’

Bucky and Steve’s parents loved you and your parents loved them

The three of you had fallen asleep on each others couches or sat on the floor so many times

You and his little sister Rebeca got on really well

Bucky was such a sweetheart and you couldn’t work out what he had done to get his 'badboy’ reputation. People would tell you to stay away from him, that he smokes and is a criminal. You just didn’t see it

I mean, he was always grumpy and didn’t tall to a lot of people but you didn’t think much of it

Until he got into a fight

A bunch of guys were picking on a girl and her girlfriend. Before you could do anything, Bucky had dropped his bag and gone over to the situation

He beat the shit out the guys while you and Steve made sure the girls were okay

“Oh my god Bucky your hands!” you half yelled at him. You took his hands into yours to get a better look. His knuckles were all bloodied and bruised. “It’s nothing Y/N, I promise.” You looked up to see his black eye and bust lip, “But you’re hurt.” “It’s nothing moonbeam, I’m okay.”

Ever since then, you saw the tougher side of him. He was hiding it from you in case it scared you off

He always protected you and Steve

He would protect you from guys who made comments at you, they both would tbh

Bucky was grumpy and glared at anybody that wasn’t you or Steve

You also learned pretty quick that Bucky got into fights to defend Steve who would unintentionally start them by calling the guy out for being a dick

You were once in a fight to defend Steve because Bucky didn’t get there fast enough

Anyway…

It was after yet another terrible date that ended with you crying on his doorstep, that Bucky had asked you out

He hated seeing you upset because the guys were trash

Bucky had brought you to the leather couch in the living room, his mum had poked her head in to see if you were okay but Bucky told her that he had it handled. “I don’t understand what happened.” you told him. “Was I not good enough?” Bucky pulled you into his arms. “Of course you’re good enough, he just has no idea how to treat you moonbeam.” that made you snuggle closer to him. “I’ll show you how you should be treated Y/N.”

He picked you up on his motorbike and took you to the local diner for dinner

It was the best date ever

He hugged you a lot

He held your hand on the table, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles

He let you wear his jacket because it was cold, you hadn’t expected it and so didn’t have anything

Bucky actually took you on a few dates

You’d watch a movie

Or go to the book store or the art shop

He would happily watch you looking at books and art supplies forever, watching your face light up at things that you found

When the two of you started dating he was such a sweetheart

“I can carry my own bag you know Buck.” “I know you can Y/N but that is not the point.” you chuckled, shaking your head. “It weighs a ton Bucky are you sure you wanna carry it?” “Yes. Now, are you staying late to finish off your art today?" “Why?” “I’ve got dad’s truck today if you want to go to the art store.”

He held your hand everywhere. Which caused stares because Bucky 'always in a fight’ Barnes was holding the hand of Y/N 'literal angel’ L/N.

Friday night was date night

He would let you wear his leather jacket and his shirts all the time

So. Many. Fuckin’. Kisses.

Hand kisses, forehead kisses, cheek kisses, neck kisses, all over the face kisses, ‘I love you so much’ kisses, ‘I missed you during the one hour I was away from you kisses

He is the best at cuddles

All kinds of cuddles, whether you were curled up on the couch together or you were lying in bed together with his head on your chest

Badboy!Bucky is a nerd and I will die on this hill, fight me

He reads to you if you can’t sleep

Will 100% answer the phone at 2am because you can’t sleep

Going on bike rides in the middle of the night with you clinging to him

He has a picture of you sat on his motorbike as his home screen of his phone

You are the only person that can touch his hair

Bucky had his head in your lap. He was reading a book and you were watching The Martian, again. Without really realising what you were doing you started to run your fingers though his hair, gently pulling at his soft locks. Bucky put his book down and looked up at you, you were still watching the movie and hadn’t noticed his beautiful blue eyes looking lovingly at you. “I like it when you play with my hair.” he told you. Truth be told his sudden voice scared you slightly, but you looked down at him. “Good.” you replied. “I like playing with your hair.”

You would pull at the strands at the nape of his neck when you were kissing

You also pull on his hair when he is eating you out

When the two of you had sex for the first time Bucky was so soft

He was terrified of not being good enough

Constantly asking you if you were okay

Asking what to do to make you feel good

He would kiss your entire body, telling you how fucking beautiful you are

You were both nervous but you helped each other get over the fears

He was freakin’ amazing

Your neck was covered it hickeys the next day and his mum smirked at the pair of you when you went down for breakfast

He calls you: Angel, Sweetheart, Baby, Babygirl, Moonbeam

You call him: Baby, Babyboy, Loverboy, Angel

He has definitely taken you on a date to an art gallery and refused to hold you, when you asked him why he went “We’re not supposed to touch the artwork here.”

You were blushing for about an hour

He never buys you flowers

He brings you over things like a new book to read or some new glitter pens.

[gabriel-knox]

Swallowing hard at her rebuttal, Gabe practically recoiled, “No, I wouldn’t–,” he shook his head, his frustration mounting by the minute. It might as well have reached a fever pitch when she reintroduced Cole’s name into the conversation. “Jesus Christ,” Gabe groaned, raising a hand and pinching at the bridge of his nose, “I don’t give a fuck about Cole, alright? This isn’t about him. But don’t even pretend like you and him are the same– you’re not.” Blood on her hands or not, Gabe would never equate Sawyer to someone who murdered for sport, which was his perception of Cole– warranted or not, it was a feeling he had that he couldn’t shake. Or maybe, he just didn’t want to. 

“You don’t know?” He repeated, shooting her an incredulous look, clearly stunned by her response. Gabe figured that by him simply being here, it was obvious he was trying to mend what lay broken between them. “I’m trying to make this work– that’s what I’m doing,” he pressed, hoping that she could see that if him simply being here wasn’t enough proof. Admittedly though, he knew he’d been distant with her ever since the gala, stoking the flames of doubt with every period of silence. It wasn’t fair to her, and he knew that, but the reality was that he hadn’t know what to say. He was barely processing the truth she’d dropped at his feet. 

Lifting a brow as she turned his question back around on him, Gabe shook his head, “What do I want? I want to be your partner– the person you come to.” But hadn’t been privy to any of this until blood had already been spilled and finding out later stung– it made him feel like she couldn’t trust him, and maybe that was what was chapping his ass so bad. “But it’s kinda hard to be that whenever I find out about all this shit after the fact– was it because you couldn’t trust me, or because you thought I’d try to talk you out of it? Because I can live with the latter.” But not the idea that she couldn’t trust him, though he didn’t really feel the need to say that out loud when his expression said it all.

“You really think I’d do that?” Resent her, that was. Despite how meek and mild he often appeared, Gabe was capable of a lot– but not resenting her. He quite simply didn’t have it in him. “I’ve loved you since I was eighteen, Sawyer,” he continued, a touch of hurt weaving into his tone, “and you really think I could resent you?” Gabe let the question settle between them for a moment as he stepped closer to her, hating the gap they’d created. “That…isn’t the kind of guy I am– not when it comes to you.” It couldn’t be. “The way I feel about you isn’t cheap– it’s real. And that’s why I’m so goddamn upset– because I love you that much.” Sensing how volatile they both were, Gabe decided to test the waters anyway and closed the gap between them, hands gently coming up to cup the sides of her face in a bid to get her to meet his gaze. “I love you,” he said slowly so that every word hung in the air. “Tried to stop once– twenty years ago,” he admitted, head shaking slightly, “Didn’t work out so well.”

Her icy gaze locked onto him, slicing through any semblance of innocence he dared to wear. "You wouldn't?" She shot back, a derisive snort punctuating her disbelief, her brow arching in challenge to his audacity. "That's your perception of Cole, isn't it?" She reminded him, the bitterness creeping into her voice betraying her fear. Gabe had branded her brother, stamped him as society's reject, a criminal fit for disposal. And now, she couldn't shake the dread that she might suffer the same fate. Blood, they said, always ran thicker than water. "You've cast him aside, marked him as beyond redemption," she pressed on, her words laced with raw edge. "Why? Because his hands are stained with blood?" A mirthless chuckle escaped her. "Well, newsflash: mine are fucking soaked in it." It wasn't a fight she sought: quite the opposite, she longed to mend what had fractured. Yet her mind, ever vigilant, braced for a fall that might never come. Sawyer, she realized couldn't bear the thought of being left vulnerable, shattered, should he chose to walk away from this, from them. This is what she wanted, and she needed to know he felt the same. No regrets later on down the road.

"I don't know." She blew out in frustration, "I don't know what you're trying to do." She huffed in irritation, a cloud of exasperation escaping her lips. Her brow furrowed with uncertainty. They'd skirted around the issue since the gala, tension thickening between them with each passing day. It was a powder keg ready to explode, and she knew it. To Sawyer, Gabe remained an enigma, his intentions elusive as ever. Was he plotting a way out, or searching for a way to salvage what they had? That uncertainty gnawed at her, chipping away at her composure. She hated being left in the dark, left to wonder. Yet, she silently acknowledged the hypocrisy in her own actions. She, too, kept him at arm's length, hiding behind a facade of protection, when deep down, she feared of scaring him away from good. "I'm not asking you to bury it and move on," she spat, her voice edged with frustration. "But a little god damn insight into what your thinking wouldn't hurt."

Her piercing blue eyes lingered on him, dissecting his every move. He had a point; he was still there, steadfast. Perhaps that was where the disparity lay between them. He wore his emotions openly, while she guarded hers behind impenetrable walls. "You are," She conceded, her frustration etched into her features but her tone subdued compared to moments prior. "No, Gabriel," She interjected, shaking her head. "What is it that you want from me?" Parroting his question, she gestured towards herself, emphasizing her words. "I'm not asking for protection or coddling, but I am asking you to stand by my side, and be there for me when I need you." Her lips tightened into a thin line as her blue eyes bored into his, searching for any flicker of understanding. "If you can't, or this burden is too heavy to bear," She continued, her voice steady despite the vulnerability creeping in. "Then say so now." She refused to let her resolve waver, but the crack of vulnerability betrayed her facade, revealing her fear beneath. "Because the thought of waking up one day to find you resenting me…" She couldn't finish the thought aloud; the mere notion was unbearable.

[russadler]

All That Remains: Chapter Two

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

A look back to happier times and a defining conversation

A/N: Hey lol once again sorry I took so long. This chapter is relatively shortish (?) because it was originally part of the next chapter, but I decided to split it since it was getting long lmao. The next chapter will actually be coming soon I promise I was like almost finished but decided to publish this section since it was done and yall need to get fed.

Also another note I guess? I refer to Russell as “Adler” even though its third person Sophie centric. I believe since they came to know each other through work, Sophie only initially heard/knew of him by his last name and will still refer to him in her mind as such. I didn’t do this much in the first chapter but I thought about it and also it felt weird calling him Russell all the time LMFAOO

August 2nd, 1980

“…I’m surprised you never had kids.” 

It’s more of a question than a statement, and an admittedly nosey one. They’re currently in the midst of a very picturesque picnic in a field of their choosing, the pair of them eating lunch while sprawled across a spare blanket pulled from the back of Russell’s car. The man in question is currently laid on his side, chewing a strawberry and peering up at her with a curiously cocked eyebrow making an appearance over the rim of his aviators. 

Sophie wriggles under the scrutiny, a blush rising to her cheeks as she redirects her eyes towards her leather boots with a timid huff. They had been together for more than enough time by now, enough time for the lustre of having Russell Adler as her boyfriend to have worn off. Yet, even all these months later, a mere glance from the man was enough to leave her flushed and stumbling over her words. 

“I’m sorry —“ She rushes to apologize, sandwich suddenly forgotten as she picks sheepishly at a loose thread on her dress. She had meant to word things a little…differently, but who was she kidding? it wasn’t her place to ask such things in the first place.

With Russell, the more you pressed him, the further away he pulled. His trust came with patience and time, a small price Sophie didn’t mind paying. There were things he held close to himself, his marriage being one of them. It was obviously a sensitive topic, or at least one he didn’t enjoy talking about. She hadn’t intended to interrogate him about the fact he didn’t have any children despite being married for a little over a decade, it was his business. Only recently had he begun sharing that part of his life with her, and it was a sign of his trust that she deeply valued.  

And here she went, utterly obliterating that carefully constructed confidence because she seemed to lack a brain-to-mouth filter.

“You’re fine, kid.”  Russell soothes, interrupting her scattered thoughts. The woman manages to to will herself to look at him again, where his enlivened grin signaling he was more amused than offended by the statement. 

He sits up, and one of his hands moves to rub at her thigh in reassurance. “I admire that you’re always pretty straight to the point.” He notes lightheartedly, subtly pacifying her current flustered state.

The woman huffs, self conscious despite the comforting words. "It gets me in trouble way too much.” She confesses, biting into her sandwich a bit too harshly. It was true. She had a terrible habit of being too honest for as long as she could remember, and it had made for some terribly awkward experiences throughout her life.

“I’d argue telling the truth is a pretty good thing to get in trouble for.” Adler remarks in return, his hand remaining on her thigh as he continues with his lunch. She could tell he was making a point of appearing relatively unconcerned about the whole thing, likely in a bid to provide her some sense of consolation. The man was leaving little room for her to feel upset at herself. 

Sophie releases a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and relaxes, shoulders loosening as she finishes the last of her sandwich. 

There’s another beat of silence, and then it occurs to her that Russell had managed yet again to wriggle his way out of talking about himself. It was a common pattern, nearly every time she attempted to make conversation that centered around him, he would artfully steer the conversation away from himself and find a way to redirect the topic towards her. 

He was annoyingly good at it, too, and she was just starting to catch on that he was doing it in the first place. 

“Wait! You didn’t answer the question!” The brunette gasps, exasperated. “You always do this!” 

“Do what?” Russell retorts, behaving as if he were completely ignorant of what was the matter. He always acted as if he didn’t know.

“You always find a way to not answer me! Every time you change the subject and then hope I forget!” The woman laughs, failing miserably in her attempt to come across as annoyed. His behavior was maddening, but Sophie often found she was less irritated and more awestruck that the man was so artful at playing people. 

“I’d never do that, you’re just making things up.” Russell quips, mouth twisted with a lopsided smile as he continues the playful banter. “I love talking about myself, actually. Could do it all day.” 

Adler just keeps smirking, stuffing a strawberry into his mouth as he does. The younger rolls her eyes, because as much as she loved him, the man could seriously be a pain. “You don’t actually have to answer the question if you don’t want to. ” She adds, humor now absent from her voice as she quietly rearranges the bundle of wildflowers she had picked.

“I said it was fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.” Russell tells her again, his voice calm and even as he continues to rub circles into her skin. There’s a brief pause, and suddenly the hand on her thigh stops moving. “Wait, do you want kids? Is this your way of asking?” He asks, his head suddenly shifting to level her with a steely gaze. Despite the presence of the aviators on his face, she can feel the intensity of his stare. The man’s demeanor had grown suddenly serious, alert even.

“No! I mean…kids are nice and all and I don’t mind them…but I’m not really dead set on having them.” She explains, her own hand darting to grasp Russell’s larger one. From one moment to the next, it had suddenly become her turn to offer reassurance. “In all honesty, I feel I’d quite rather do without them, really.” She returns the man’s heavy gaze with one of her own, both in search of his reaction and in the hopes of communicating her honesty. "I was just…curious.” She admits shyly.

It was the truth, she wasn’t one of those girls whose ultimate life goal was of being a housewife with the white picket fence, apple pies, and endless kids. There was nothing wrong with that ideal per say, but it wasn’t something she saw herself wanting. 

The woman wasn’t really looking to make children a part of her life. If it happened, it happened, but she could go without them and feel just fine about it. 

Russell, on his part, seemed relieved. Accepting her answer with a nod, his gaze moves towards the sky above as he gives her hand a short squeeze.

Then to her complete surprise, he decides to answer the question anyways. Sophie turns to look at the taller as he begins to speak, shifting to lay on her left side and face him as he leaned back on his hands. 

“Well...there’s a lot of reasons, really. First, my job.” Adler then pauses to spare her a brief glance, as if to ensure she understood what he was attempting to convey. It was no secret that Russell was often away, leaving her for weeks and sometimes months on end. She was never allowed to have any hint of what he was doing or even where he was going, all that she could know was that his work was very important and very dangerous. 

Sometimes she found herself sitting at home and just hoping he was still alive. Confirmation that he was okay only came when he either called her to say he was coming home (which was rare) or until he appeared out of the blue. It wasn’t a feeling she liked having, and a sentiment Russell hated subjecting her to.  

It was just the way it was, the way it had to be. Their relationship would always come second to work, Adler had made that very clear from the start. She was either in or out, and he made sure that she knew the price that she would be paying in being with him.

Russell sighs, the exhale sounding deep and tired before he continues. “It would be unfair to do that to a kid, they wouldn’t understand why their dad was away all the time...And it would have been unfair to my ex, she would have had to essentially raise them all on her own.” 

Sophie nods silently in understanding, the living scenario was on she had come to understand personally. The periods of absence would be difficult on both mother and child for various reasons, and it was good that the couple had weighed the risks.

“Some of the guys at work are okay with that, and have wives that were okay with that, but for us..?” He continues, voice even as he grasps one of the flowers she had stuffed into the picnic basket and begins rolling the stem between his thumb and pointer finger. “We didn’t want kids that bad. We were okay, just it being the two of us.”

“You both ended up going your separate ways, too. I could imagine if you had kids that would have been a nightmare.” She adds, a relatively astute observation but one that she felt was worth mentioning. They had made the right choice after all, it had seemed. 

“God, I’m thankful we didn’t for that reason especially.” Russell replies with audible relief, thankful that children hadn’t been something to consider in their subsequent divorce. 

There’s a moment of silence, and she thinks he’s finished speaking, especially seeing that he officially answered her question. 

But then he sits up properly, clearing his throat before speaking once more. “And all these years later my feelings about it are the same and I don’t regret it.” He tells her, sounding confident and assured as he rips most of the stem away from the main portion of the flower with a powerful yank. “Even if I wanted them now, I’m a bit too old to be a dad. So that ship has long sailed.” 

Sophie nods. Russell was a man of very few regrets, and his sense of judgement was one she had come to trust wholeheartedly. He turns to her, an arm reaching out to tuck a few locks of her hair out of the way before placing the remainder of the flower behind her ear. 

The woman smiles so hard her cheeks ache. Russell Adler was a romantic, despite the fact he vehemently denies it. It was true and no one was going to believe her ever. “I don’t think you really missed out, everyone I know who has kids just complains about them.” She states, still smiling.

The taller’s chest rumbles with a chuckle. Having carefully maneuvering the food out of the way, he then wraps an arm around her shoulders, he pulls her down to lay at his side as she lets out a surprised squeak. “Have we been talking to the same people?” He asks. 

“If one of them is named Jason Hudson, then yes.”

Russell laughs then, and it’s music to her ears.