#and I support him in all of his endeavors

[pearlessance]

I'll Crawl Home To Her

summary: all the ways joel miller loves his pretty, little wife. and all the ways she loves him right back.

pairing: husband!joel miller x wife!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, traditional gender roles, pussy eating, vaginal sex, semi-public, exhibitionism kinda, dom/sub undertones, car sex, biting, dirty talk, joel is a certified munch, feminine reader, a whole bunch of tooth-rotting fluff

wc: 4.1k

note: something soft and sweet, tysm for reading, let me know what you think! <3

[masterlist] [read on AO3!]

Being Joel Miller's wife was, in short, marital bliss.

He loved taking care of you, and it showed in everything he did.

Joel always woke up earlier than you. On days he had to work, his alarm would rouse you just enough that you’d roll over to his side of the bed the moment he vacated it, soaking up his warmth and his scent, snuggling into his pillow. He’d kiss your forehead and tuck you in tight, and you’d fall asleep seconds after he whispered, “Have a good day, baby girl. Love you.”

And once you did finally roll out of bed, sunlight leaking in through the kitchen blinds, you’d find a fresh pot of coffee and your favorite mug sitting on the counter.

He worked long hours, but you could never fault him for it. He was doing it even in his old age to grant you the freedom to do any and everything you desired. Supporting you in all your endeavors no matter how fleeting.

When you’d picked up the hobby of gardening, Joel had taken you to three different greenhouses in one weekend and helped you till a section of the backyard to plant your seeds. And later that week, he’d come home with the back of his truck full of pretty white bricks to outline your garden with.

You’d mentioned once with your hands covered in suds how the dishes were your least favorite chore. You hated how they piled up so quickly, hated leaving them in the sink, how they felt never-ending.

“I can do the dishes, darlin’,” he’d said. “Just leave them for me an’ I’ll do ‘em after work every day.”

You loved him for the offer but refused. He already spoiled you enough as it is. You couldn’t imagine watching him standing at the sink every day after working for ten hours. “Are you crazy? No, I’d never let you do that.”

“Don’t bother me none,” he insisted. “S’only fair, considerin’ how good dinner is every night.”

The compliment made you flush, but still, you stood firm. Even when he’d come up behind you with a dish towel in hand, ready to take your place. You’d slapped his hands away. “Joel, no. Let me. Please.”

“Alright, fine,” he said, setting the towel on the counter. His hands found a new way to occupy themselves, though. Slipping beneath your skirt, squeezing at the softness of your thighs. “But at least let me get my desert.”

He’d had you bent over the countertop that night with your panties around your knees. He’d hummed his I love you’s against your spit-soaked clit in the middle of the kitchen and you’d felt like the most spoiled girl in the world. 

Even more so when he’d come home from work early the next day. He and Tommy walked through the front door with a brand new dishwasher in tow and spent all night assembling it.

Once, you’d been late coming back from the grocery store. Janet, the older woman who lived two houses down from you and Joel, had been berating the cashier for not accepting an expired coupon.

Confrontation had never been your strong suit, but it felt less like conflict and more like second nature to step in and defend a teenage girl just trying to do her job. You attempted to reason with Janet, explaining that it wasn’t the cashier's fault, that the use of her coupon perhaps just wasn’t meant to be. You’d even offered to pay for her entire shopping haul if it meant a break for the young girl. 

Of course, this wasn’t what Janet had wanted to hear, and she instead turned her anger on you. Your cheeks had warmed in embarrassment as she yelled your name aloud for all the other customers to hear, telling you to ‘keep your nose where it belonged.’ 

The whole interaction had frazzled you. But more than that, it had made you late. And while being screamed at so publically had certainly thrown you off kilter, the straw that broke the camel’s back was seeing Joel’s truck in the driveway when you got home. 

He had mentioned once how much he loved having someone to come home to. Had explained how seeing you standing there with a smile on your face waiting for him on the front porch every day made the long hours and unbearable heat worth it. But because of Janet, you weren’t there. 

Joel, your Joel—who always takes care of you, who would do anything for you, who puts your happiness above his own, the most selfless man you’ve ever known—had come home to an empty house. Worked twelve hours beneath the Texas sun to come home to absolute silence.

It didn’t matter that you’d left a note on the kitchen table, you’d meant to get back before he could ever read it.

The tears had come quickly. The embarrassment, the frustration, the anger you felt on that young girl’s behalf, came rushing to the surface all at once.

He’d left the door unlocked for you, like usual, and the moment you stepped inside you could hear the familiar, heavy sound of his boots on the wooden floor. “Hey, sweetheart. How was your—?”

Before he could ask any questions you’d flung yourself into his arms, needing comfort, needing to show him how much you loved him. To prove to him that you weren’t home but you wanted to be, more than anything. “I’m so sorry,” was all you managed to choke out. 

Joel, who valued your safety above all else, immediately stiffened yet pulled you closer, wrapping his big arms around your shoulders, his warm hand splayed across the small of your back. “Hey, hey—shh, what happened? Talk to me, sweet girl. C’mon.” 

He cradled your face in his palm, holding you gently as if you were the most precious thing because, to him, you are. He wiped your tears away with the rough pad of his thumb and listened as you explained, “I—I wasn’t here waiting for you! I’m sorry—I…I tried to come home as fast—as fast as I could but—!”

“S’okay, baby. I know you’ll always come home to me, alright? I’m not mad. Could never be mad at you, y’know that.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, to the arch of your brow, to the bridge of your nose. He rubbed soothing circles into your skin until your tears slowed and your breaths found their normal cadence once again. And then, because he knows you, he asked, “What really happened?”

And you tell him. Every detail. And Joel stands there, holding you, listening with bated breath. 

When you finish, he pulls his shoulders back with a newfound objective. “M’gonna go talk to Lee,” he said.

Janet’s husband was a good man, you knew. Similar to Joel in the way of being a nurturing sort of husband. A hard-working man with never a bad thing to say about anyone. “You don’t have to,” you tell Joel. “What she did was wrong but I’d rather she takes it out on me than a kid at their first job.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t just let it go,” he said. “She disrespected my wife. Not the kinda thing I can turn the other cheek to.” 

“Joel—don’t…don’t—” You weren’t sure what you were asking. His insistence didn’t surprise you in the least, but you didn’t want to start anything that would disrupt the peace the two of you’d spent so much time cultivating.

He seems to understand you despite your lack of vocal explanation. “Just gonna have a word with him, sweetheart. That’s all.”

Before he walked out the door, he asked very specifically for the Mediterranean chicken dish you’d made for him last week. Which was strange only because he never asked for anything specific; he simply asked you to cook whatever you felt like, and insisted that somehow you knew his cravings better than he himself did. 

It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later, as you put the chicken in the oven that you realized he’d done it to distract you, to take your mind off the situation at hand while he went and handled it. Helping you without even being in the same room.

When he came home, Joel answered all of your questions at the dinner table and said that he and Lee had shared a beer and talked it over. Warned you to expect an apology the next time you and Janet crossed paths. 

And sure enough, that weekend there was a knock on the front door. 

Joel stood behind you, a looming, protective presence at your back. A safety net as your neighbor apologized for her actions and offered a plate of chocolate chip cookies as amends.

You forgave her, of course. Even invited her in so the two of you could talk about it over a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade on the back porch. She compliments you on the roses growing in your garden and you clip a couple off to send her home with.

Problem solved. Amends made. 

All because of Joel. 

Your closest friends even teased you about it from time to time, making jokes about how spoiled you are, and about how much he cares for you.

When you’re out having a girls' night with the three of them, you share laughs and chips and salsa and have one too many glasses of wine. They all discuss sharing an Uber, but you interject to say, “No worries. Joel will make sure we get home safe.”

And they tease you about that, too, telling you, “You’ve got that big man wrapped tight around your little finger.”

But you’re not wrong, and you suppose your friends aren’t, either. Because he shows up at the diner ten minutes after you send him a text message, and deals with four drunk young women with such grace it’s almost astonishing. Even pulls a soft, secret smile as he listens to the group of you giggle together at something that’s probably not nearly as funny to him.

You asked him about it later, about that gentle amusement he wore, and he explained simply, “What makes you happy makes me happy, darlin.’” 

And you understand exactly what he means. Understand how your happiness, your frustrations, your love is mirrored perfectly in his heart. Because you feel it, too.

It’s why whenever he says he’s craving something, whether it’s fast food or some elaborate dish, you’ll always find a way to get it onto his dinner plate that night. It’s why you make an extra stop during grocery shopping to get that local ground coffee he likes. 

He’d said once how much he loves the way pale blue looks against your skin, and every time you shop for clothes you find yourself gravitating towards the shade. 

You do his laundry and put a towel in the dryer every time he steps in the shower so it’s warm when he gets out. You teach him about skincare and he sits dutifully in bed every Sunday night with a face mask on and a pore strip on his nose. You schedule his doctor and dentist appointments and have never once been successful at fighting off your wide grin as you tell the receptionist on the phone that you’re his wife and they refer to you as Mrs. Miller for the remainder of the call.

Give and take, push and pull—the two of you fit seamlessly together. You take care of him, and he takes care of you, and whatever was left each day you figured out together.

So, when you make your way to the kitchen one early morning to see his lunch still in the fridge, untouched, and his coffee mug in the sink and not the dishwasher, you know something must have gone awry. Something to disrupt his morning routine.

You find your phone only to read a text message he’d left you at six this morning. 

Good morning, sweet girl. Slept through my alarm, might have to stay over today to finish. Love you.

Joel’s an independent man, you know. Perfectly capable of taking care of himself. And you know he’ll likely buy lunch for himself and Tommy, likely some gas station pizza and a soda. But you don’t like the idea of him needing to do that. Don’t like the idea of him eating anything you don’t make for him just the way he likes.

So, you spend the morning getting all dolled up. You wear that pale blue sundress he likes. You curl your hair, coat your lashes in mascara, and spray that expensive, vanilla-scented perfume he got you for your birthday last year. 

And then you grab his lunch from the fridge and make your way to the construction site. You find Joel’s truck easily and park beside it. You’re not sure why, but being here makes your heart race. 

You’ve met the majority of the guys on his crew, and they all know who you are. Countless times you’ve forced Joel to bring in containers full of cookies and pastries you’d bake the night before to share. He’s even brought a couple of them home for dinner before, and invited their wives and kids to fill your home with a little extra love and laughter for the evening.

But for some reason, this feels…different. Like you’re encroaching on their territory, invading space that doesn’t belong to you.

They’re working inside some big structure that has only the framing and roof finished, wooden beams allotting space for each room. You can hear them shouting at each other and the sound of hammers striking nails into place. Somewhere a little further into the building, there’s the mechanical whirring of a drill, but you see no face you recognize.

One of the younger-looking men up in the rafters notices you first. “Well, hello there pretty little lady. Did you need some help?”

You open your mouth to speak, to ask where you might find Joel or even Tommy. But then—

“Dean, you look at my wife like that again and it’ll be the last time you have eyes to look at anyone.” Joel rests his hand on the small of your back as he saddles up to your side. You turn to face him, and can’t help your smirk upon discovering the intimidating scowl on his face that he directs to Dean. “Understand?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry about that, Mrs. Miller.”

“It’s alright, Dean. You didn’t know,” you insist. But Joel narrows his eyes even further and doesn’t stop until you playfully hit his bicep. “It’s fine.”

His expression softens considerably when he looks at you, deep frown turning into a warm smile instead. “Hey, baby girl.” Joel pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours, kissing you softly. Nothing out of the ordinary for him, nothing you don’t expect. But what you don’t expect is for his hand on the small of your back to sink lower, grabbing a lewd fist full of your ass.

The surprise has your lips parting, but Joel only takes it to his advantage, tongue slipping between them to glide smoothly against yours.

When he finally pulls away your face is flushed and he wears that satisfied smirk like armor. He glances up at Dean, whose ears are now red-hot even though he tries very hard to pretend like he’s busy. “I’m taking a twenty. Be back in a bit.”

He takes your hand in his and leads you back outside, and once he opens the passenger door of your truck he’s quick to put his hands on your hips and lift you to help you inside. 

You expect him to close the door and round the front of the truck to get in behind the wheel, but he doesn’t. Before you’re even able to turn and tuck your legs inside, he’s pushing you back against the leather seats and sliding his calloused hands up your thighs beneath your dress. “Joel,” you say, but you don’t attempt to stop him. 

The passenger door’s propped open, just enough to shield him from view as he stands behind it. “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your panties. He tugs them down and peppers open-mouthed kisses across the exposed skin of your chest, teeth nipping at your cleavage. But then he’s biting you—hard, and pressure pools low in your belly as his tongue flicks over the hurt to soothe. “Always take such good care of me. Had such a rough morning but seein’ you changes it all around.”

You’re giggling uncontrollably, overwhelmed by his sudden need, basking beneath the warmth of his praise. Your hands find his hair, tugging lightly at the ends. “We shouldn’t,” you say. “Someone will see. You’re crazy, old man, do you know that?”

“Yeah, crazy for you.” Normally you’d scold him some more, accuse him of being the absolute cheesiest man that you’ve ever met. But you don’t have the chance before he’s pushing your knees apart and pressing those hot, wet kisses to the inside of your thighs. “Can front all you want, but I’m not dumb, baby. Think you got all dressed up and came all this way for nothing? Nuh-uh.”

This hadn’t been your intention in the slightest, but now that you’re here, and his head’s between your thighs… “I just brought your lunch!” 

Joel smirks. “Fuckin’ right you did.”

You have to cover your mouth to quiet your laughter. “But…seriously. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Starving, sweetheart,” he says. “Now spread your legs.”

You do. Of course you do. 

And Joel makes quick work of you, wasting not a second before his tongue slides through your wet heat with expert precision. He hooks his arms around your thighs and drags you to the end of the leather seat, pressing his face against you. Your clit pulses with need and he takes care of that ache for you, too. Sucking it into his mouth, lapping at you with the flat of his tongue, ratcheting your pleasure to an almost unbearable place.

It doesn’t take long before your back is arching off the leather, hands tugging desperately at his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You’re whimpering his name and he’s letting out these deep, throaty groans that have your toes curling in your high-top sneakers.

In just a couple minutes he has you right there—right on the edge, so close to your orgasm you can taste it, and then he pulls away. You’re whining immediately, desperate whimpers falling for your lips. 

“Shh. S’alright, baby girl. I’m comin',’” Joel tells you. And then you watch through bleary, tear-filled eyes as he undoes his tool belt and sets it on the floor of his truck. 

The clink of his belt buckle reverberates through your ears, and you whimper again but before you can start begging he’s got his cock in his hand and he’s pressing the big, heavy tip into you. “Oh my God,” you cry, breath stuck in your lungs. 

It feels so good—he always does. He says, “C’mere, baby,” before gripping the front of your dress and pulling you up towards him. He hooks your legs around his hips and sinks into you slow, real slow. Gives you time to adjust to the size of him, time for your pussy to make room for it. He kisses you hard, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see the men on his team working thirty feet away. 

Your heart races in your chest and you think about warning him again that this might be a bad idea, but then he’s sinking his cock alllll the way into you, pushing against that sweet spot inside, and everything else fades into nothing. 

There’s nothing but Joel—your gentle, safe, loving husband, who always takes care of you and always will.

He pulls out slowly, moaning low, and then slams back into you. Again and again and again. He sets such a punishing pace that your eyes roll back and you have to sink your nails into his shoulders just to ground yourself, his gray cotton t-shirt soft and familiar beneath your fingertips. “Fuck, fuck, Joel.”

“Pretty pussy’s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ good, baby,” he says. “Know just what to give her. Know just what she needs.”

You can feel your slick coating the inside of your thighs, your orgasm creeping right back up your spine as if it’d never faded in the first place. He squeezes your thighs hard enough to bruise but it only brings you higher, gets you closer. Your clit pulses and you swear you can feel his cock throbbing inside you in tandem, a perfect man made just for you.

His hips slam into you, bringing you closer and closer and closer, until finally— “Joel, Joel, I—oh my god, shit—!”

“Ohh, sweet girl…you gonna cum for me? Hm? Feels that good? Needed it that bad, didn’t you,” he says, and it’s not a question because he just knows.

“Yes, yes, please—Joel, I’m gonna—!”

He takes a hand and grips the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. “I know, baby, s’alright. Give it to me. Yeah, that’s it. There you go.”

Your orgasm hits you hard, makeup smearing as your eyes water. Every nerve ending flares on end, euphoria washing over you and pulling your senses taut. “Cum with me, cum with me, oh god.”

He fucks you through it, and it only takes a couple more meaningful strokes before his hips are stuttering. Joel presses his forehead to yours and kisses you gently, spilling inside you with his cock pressed into you as deep as he can get. He cums with you and the words that leave his mouth as he reaches the summit give you goosebumps. “Love you, sweet girl. Love you so fuckin’ much.”

When he finally comes down, Joel’s panting breaths are in perfect sync with yours. He kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. And when you start giggling he breaks out that soft, gentle smile and it turns your insides to mush.

You wince as he slowly pulls out of you and stuffs himself back into his jeans, pulling on the leather of his belt and fastening it back into place.

“Still have a couple minutes before you have to get back,” you say, cheeks warming as he helps you slide your panties back up your legs. “You really should eat something. Like, actual food. Sustenance.”

“Oh, I’m plenty satisfied,” he jokes. But when you unzip his cooler and sift through it, pulling out the turkey, tomato, and cheese sandwich you’d made him last night, he takes it from you with greedy hands. 

He eats quickly and you watch him in awe, unbelieving that he’s real, and much less that you’d somehow convinced him to love you. A perfect man, all your own, so beautiful and kind and selfless. You don’t think anyone’s loved anymore more than you love Joel.

Playfully, he taps the tip of your nose as he wolfs down the last bite of his sandwich. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

“Just you,” is your answer.

“Me?”

“About how much I love you.”

His smile widens and he reaches his hand out, cradling your face, running his thumb along your cheekbone. “I don’t deserve you, sweetheart.”

You press your face into his hand, bottom lip jutting out. A part of you wants to beg him to come home early, to use a sick day, and hold you for hours. But instead, you kiss the palm of his hand and jump out of the truck, gravel crunching beneath your feet. “You should probably get back. Don’t want you staying any later than you have to.”

Joel lets out a heavy sigh but nods his head in agreement. He closes the door of his truck and opens the door to your car instead. “Get home safe, alright? I’ll try and get this done as soon as I can. You want me to pick something up after for dinner? Kinda cravin’ pizza.”

“Let me know when you’re leaving the site and I’ll call and put in an order for pickup. Get one for Tommy too so he can take it with him. Wanna make sure he eats. Sound good?”

He kisses you hard and nods. “Sounds real good. See you at home, baby girl.”

“I’ll be waiting on the porch,” you promise.

Like you always are. Like you always will be.

[rosewcterdrunk]

"I am nothing like you, are you so thick that you stand on a pin and think it a pedestal? I have made a mistake if any of these letters prove fruitful— you exploited Cassandra, you damned bastard. You made love to her, so be it, and then you placed a price upon it for your silence?"

It was in despicable, to compare a burden that instilled guilt and to have no shame for what he had done. Thayer would regret compromising anything with him, but what if there was a chance this was his child?

The Claremonts were dead.

Thayer was alone, clinging to the purgatory between complete isolation and the bliss of having his own way in the world once more. He damned it until he found his place in the currents of a fading marriage, of a woman who had only come to life when she saw someone as broken and bruised as she was. Her heart lied in her daughter, and Thayer would not let her be wronged or hurt because her family was too weak to protect her. But his own child? He had committed such wrongs all these years and never known?

"I am giving you a chance," He points out to him, his tone regaining the same stillness that grounded even the tremor of his own hand. White knuckle grip once more placed behind his back, anything to remember the honor he had to protect— it was not his to keep, but his burden to bare. Surely that became evident to William now. "You could very well never find this child by the end of the season, and I will have to keep my word of supporting you. It will only force us to remain loyal to our efforts. If the season comes to an end and she chooses another, you can keep the finances of what would have been the dowry. I leave the choice up to her. She also knows she is to try but you are not to influence her."

This supposed love was still in Cassandra's heart, he knew it. She abided by her duties the very same way he did in assuring payment to her wardship and ensuring all was well. Any letter that came his way when inquiring of the well being of her mother masked as an question of how Margate was in their absence was handed to her all the same.

"She will have prospects, but I will not influence them. I will simply provide her the choice as is her intention here in London," He explains. "The information you provide in these endeavors to prove these letters true will keep me from meddling, and my payment to you will do the same. It is a feigned sense of trust, but I believe we both need what the other can provide."

William could never understand why men were held to a lower standard in the gentry when it came to decency. They could take countless women to bed and be applauded but a woman dared to fall for one beneath her station was unspeakable. “We both know that whatever precautions that can be taken aren’t always reliable, perhaps you should have practiced celibacy instead.” Now was not the time for jibes but William could not resist. “Did you, or did you not use another name?” William asked with a sharpness to his tone. Yes, the proof he had was tenuous, but he was not going to admit that.

“I pay little attention to your name.” William countered, though he felt his chest well with a quiet triumph. If anything, he now knew how little Thayer held himself and there was some vindication in that, no matter how petty it seemed. “Your name is not worth my spit. You speak of me and my irresponsibility, yet your honour is the same as mine, if not worse.” William’s eyes glinted with a mix of satisfaction as the truth of Thayer’s character came to light. 

There was nothing that could be done to rectify William’s past mistake, the only solace he has was that Cassandra was oblivious to it, for now. He did not react when the letters were thrusted against his chest, nor did his eyes leave Thayer’s. If the man were going to attack again, William would not hold back. The deal left William breathless. He didn’t care for a dowry, but the great families of England needed such to survive, and it was one of the many things that Wiliam couldn’t offer Cassandra and her family. Of course, the idea of his future being funded by Thayer left a bitter taste in his mouth but what else could he do? “And if I find your child, but Cassandra has been promised to another, what then?” It seemed like an impossible task. Cassandra’s beauty alone should get her an offer before the season finished but if William couldn’t interfere, how was it fair? 

Accepting this offer would tie him to Thayer for a long time, but what other options did he have? “Servants won’t speak to you as they would me, you need me more than you know.” William countered, knowing full well it was not the complete truth. “When I find this child, what proof would satisfy you?” William didn’t trust the man. He had the letter, the fake name, and the knowledge that a child existed, unless the child bore an uncanny resemblance to Thayer, William could imagine the man recanting on the deal.

[thatonedudeinthecorner]

Learning how to draw Jason Todd (probably for evil and nefarious reasons)

[oxygen537art]

Do you hate Endeavor? 😜

Well, I definitely have a lot of negative feelings towards him.

The way he treated his family is absolutely awful. It's not just that he was a difficult father; he actively used and manipulated his wife and children to achieve his own selfish goals. The way he prioritized his own desire to be the best hero over the well-being of the people closest to him is disgusting.

I know some people argue that he's trying to change, and that we need to see his redemption arc. I'm not against that idea and I understand that real people make mistakes too. However, even if he's trying to do better now, it doesn't erase the harm he caused.

I think the story should have done a better job of showing the consequences of his actions.

[rooolt]

I do think Sam was waiting for any excuse to be #1 hawk hater again, like the minute demetri is like “yeah he’s being a dick” she’s hunting that boy for sport

[aikoiya]

Hmm... For starters, I wouldn't so much say that ALL monsters would be put in prison.

Though, even if they were, then I think their jailtime could vary widely depending on the individual case. For the most part, if a monster was questioned about whether or not they attacked Frisk or had been supportive of the human extermination plan, then if they were honest & didn't hide anything, then that at least would be a point or 2 in their favor.

However, then it would be a question of how they answered. Like, in the case of monsters who attacked Frisk, do they understand that what they did was wrong? Do they even realize that they're in some sort of trouble? Like, do they just tell the police what happened all matter-of-fact & unashamed?

At the same time, those who were cooperative & admitted to their guilt would likely be given leniency.

Again, it'd depend. Not to mention, I doubt many of them would have registered lawyers, concidering that if Monsters even had lawyers in the Underground, then those lawyers would need to take the Bar on the Surface in order to be allowed to practice in human society. As such, the monsters would probably need to be given lawyers by the state.

Anyway, I imagine that there'd be an investigation to figure out what all happened to the fallen humans from start to finish. Possibly taking whatever witness testimonies they can & getting DNA testing done on the corpses. And depending on how long ago some of them were killed, then they may even need to use some pretty unorthodox investigation methods like opening an Ancestry account in order to try & discover who they might be based on old documentation. Because, if DNA testing hadn't been invented at the time, then the human probably wouldn't be in any digital registry. If so, then they might be able to identify them by using Ancestry to locate their closest living relatives, then work back from there. Sure, it'd take a lot of time, but what else would they be able to do?

But that's a bit of a segue.

Anyway, Toriel & Asgore, I think, would be exempt from this particular call out.

But I will say that Papyrus, as always, would be one of the ones who'd accept it the easiest & is liable to be the most repentant. Not to mention that, upon understanding the why behind things, he'd first be utterly distraught & I can even see him weeping a bit theatrically because of it.

Like, "I AM SUPPOSED TO BE THE COOLEST, BUT NOW I AM A DELINQUENT CRIMINAL! NYOHOHO!!"

However, upon getting it out of his system. He'd likely endeavor to be the most well-behaved inmate possible. Possibly even becoming a favorite of the facility's staff & actively aiding his fellow inmates in rehabilitation.

Heck, I could even see him protecting a guard during a riot, thus possibly reducing his sentence even further. Maybe even expediting his release & getting out early with parole for good behavior. (Still a question of his age, though.)

Sans... Yeah, he might be a bit stung by the jab, but I don't think he'd show it. Though, depending on how many Resets he's been through, he may shoot his own jab right back at Frisk.

And, how he'd behave during incarceration would really depend on Papyrus. Like, if Pap was only younger than Sans by a few skeleton years, then they'd at least be in the same facility. And in such a case, he'd have his bro there to keep him behaving. However, if Pap was a minor, he'd be put in juvie & while I don't think such would really change how Pap would behave too much beyond worrying about his brother. I do think it'd change Sans' behavior.

For one, if Pap were there, then Sans would likely spend most of his time keeping an eye on his brother. Ya know, protecting him? Because they'd be surrounded by human criminals. And if Frisk had gone through with even a Neutral run before, where he only killed those he couldn't figure out how to spare, then I see Sans being very cautious of letting Pap be near any adult human on his own. Because if a human child was capable of all that, then the prospect of an adult human must be terrifying.

But without Pap there, I can see Sans being on edge at almost all times. (Though, I do wonder how the human authorities are managing to keep the monsters in the prison. Not to mention how they're managing to keep them from using their magic.)

Either way, I think that Sans would be the one who'd fully process their own hypocrisy the quickest, but I also think that he wouldn't care. And, I can honestly see him being one of the problem inmates, just in a more passive-aggressive way than Undyne. Provided that the authorities manage to catch him. Because, again, the monsters have magic & Sans, specifically, has one very useful ability for this situation.

I find it hard to imagine that the monsters wouldn't use that advantage. Like, would he really not shortcut his boney booty outta there?

As for Undyne, I think she'd be the one who'd struggle the most with realizing that her double-standards in regards to humans, were double-standards. Not because she's not smart enough to do so, but because she'd still be in the mindset of "monsters good, humans bad." Which might result in a belief that the monsters were justified despite behaving just as badly.

Alphys & Metaton, like Sans, I see being quick to recognize the double-standard for what it was. However... It's possible that, like how Alphys did in the game, she might try to hide what all she had done. Though, mostly in a fit of terror.

Recall that Alphys lied about the situation with the Amalgamates for who knows how long. Then, she lied to Frisk practically the entire time they knew each other. And though she was trying to improve, I can't help but think that her instinct upon realizing that she was in trouble might've been to protect herself. And even if she was debating with herself on what to do, I wouldn't be surprised if Metaton encouraged her to get rid of evidence of their involvement. Possibly even using her expertise to edit all of the Metaton footage where he attacks Frisk to make it look like Frisk was edited in over some sort of stunt double by a very skilled editor. That way, any other monsters who say that Metaton was going to take Frisk's soul, could feasibly be chaulked up to a publicity stunt to drive up ratings while playing along with the general atmosphere of the Underground.

The real issue would be with Frisk if he found out & whether he'd go along with the scheme to keep them out of jail.

Though, this is mostly just my thoughts.

What if the mayor of the city near MT Ebott welcomed the monsters with open arms?

But he's the younger brother of the human that fell down before Frisk...

The mayor's older brother was the Justice Soul.

The mayor has a daughter with a soul of patience.

The mayor also has a fondness for cowboys and has a soul of kindness.

The mayor is kinda traumatized by losing his brother.

The mayor ironically became quite close with Asgore (his brother's killer).

When the mayor finds out the truth about what Asgore and the monsters have done.

He feels heartbroken, betrayed and hatred begins to fill his once kind soul.

The monsters were put on trial, but the judge decides that only Asgore, Toriel, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Papyrus, Sans and the Royal Guard (the main monsters that hurt Frisk) should go to prison.

The mayor is outraged that so many other monsters that hurt Frisk and wanted to hurt other humans can be set free.

So, the mayor decides to make the monsters living in his city feel like it's a prison.

It was horrible; despite the rest of the monsters being free to go, many humans glare, insult and even attack them over their past actions inside the mountain.

The mayor's anti-monster propaganda doesn't help.

Even the humans that the monsters befriended don't trust them anymore.

It's gotten so hard to live in the city, that many monsters returned to MT Ebott.

But it wasn't enough for the mayor, he wants them all to disapear from his life forever.

The mayor then discovers a Corrupted Gaster (or evil creature from the void).

The void creature offers to help the mayor create a time machine, to prevent the Justice Human from ever entering the mountain.

The mayor could place giant boulders on both entrances to the mountain, so the beast can rot down there, and future kids will be safe.

The void creature convinces the mayor to kidnap Frisk and place them in a magical coma (Frisk's determination and reset powers are the main power source for the machine).

Flowey tried to protect Frisk, but he got captured as well.

The void creature also convinces the mayor to kidnap monster children (including Monster Kid) to harvest the magic of their souls.

Since monster souls fade away quickly, the monster children will be kept alive and imprisoned until the machine is ready.

The mayor is quite hesitant about doing this part until the creature says: "King Asgore didn't hesitate to harvest your brother's soul, so why should you care what happens to these beasts?"

"What about Frisk?"

"Frisk tried to hide the truth to protect all the monsters... Frisk is just as guilty as they are."

The mayor's soul gets darker.

The mayor's daughter is horrified by what her father is becoming.

The daughter promises Monster Kid that she'll find a way to save everyone.

If she freed all of them now, her father would notice and recapture them.

The daughter only frees Flowey, tells him everything and then they tell the imprisoned main monsters.

The main monsters bust out of jail and become fugitives to save Frisk, despite everything they've been through.

The 'time machine' is actually a giant device that will plunge the world into the void, but the mayor doesn't know this.

Asgore and Toriel try to convince the mayor that revenge will only make things worse.

[basicallykiyotaka]

Enji has a major inferiority complex and constantly feels the need to prove himself day in and day out when in reality he's a complete coward. He hides behind fake confidence because he's doing the classic fake it til you make it. He became so envious of heroes yet still felt so weak compared to them that part of him gave up and instead raised a child.

He, in fact, loves his family. He truly believed that he could create something happy one day and that fatherhood was going to help his wounds heal, and when all it did was make him even more scared, he pulled his walls back up and demanded control over himself that he never actually had. He didn't want to hurt his family, but he did anyway. He shut out everything that would make him vulnerable and poured all his self loathing into training Shoto.

He most certainly knew, for a long time, that what he was doing was fucked, but when you're in that mental cycle, you can't justify breaking out of it because that's what that kind of fear does to you. This created more self hatred which in turn created more stress which created more anger.

Because there's nothing to relieve it and all his wounds are torn open through Touya dying, he buries himself into the places he knows he can regulate and knows he can feel powerful up until the start of his arc where he finally feels himself calmed down. The urge is satisfied yet it leaves him hollow, and only then can he truly reflect and say out loud that he should have done better.

TL;DR - Enji Todoroki has insecurity issues stemming from not feeling strong enough after his father died which resulted in an unending cycle that took itself out on the people around him.

This is what the subtext and direct text is trying to tell you. The fact I'm even explaining this to people who love him makes me concerned for reading comprehension...

[bee623]

Sometimes when you’re playing dnd your BBEG is just a libertarian. And that’s okay.

[vvizardz]

Sorry too busy blasting the Lost and Found album again 🖤❤️

[starlightiing]

Reason number 23423 why I said yes to marrying Stuart:

[problemswithbooks]

I’m just annoyed by AFO, one of the worst characters and he’s the Big Bad. His main body should’ve died against Endeavor so we wouldn’t have to waste so much time with him.

I agree that Hori really didn't need to drag out OG AfO's death. I think he wanted to give All Might and Bakugou a Heroic Moment/Win but it came at the coast of pacing and AfO feeling really redundant. I mean I love All Might and I do think he needed a little bit of a moment before the end of the story but depending on how the story ends it could have possibly been left to his vestige+emotionally helping Izuku.

As for Bakugou getting his moment, again depending on how things go, could have been left for after Shigaraki gets fully possessed, with him teaming up with Izuku.

Because we're still not done with the story I can't say for sure, but I'm a little annoyed that OG AfO wasn't killed by Enji+Dabi. At the moment it seems like if/when Hori redemes the core LoV it will be last minute in a friendship is magic/breaking Shigaraki out of AfO's mind control thing. I'm not a huge fan of that and do wish that Dabi would have helped bring down AfO with Enji and Shoto. He still could have been cheering Shigaraki on from the sidelines to help bring him back, but it would have been the first step in showing he was starting to choose something for the greater good over killing his family for revenge.

It also would have given Enji, Shoto, Hawks and the other UA students that fought him more of a win, while also fitting in with the todofam subplot.

[bylertruther]

it is kind of funny that by trying desperately to not be a homewrecker, will did inadvertently and absolutely take milkvan's house he'd been building and demolish it to dust n smithereens. king shit

[noctuascion]

i’ve been playing a metric shitton of street fighter 6 and i gotta say luke is fucking great. not only is he Just A Guy but he’s insanely chill, insanely good at fighting, and likes silly little cat games. he’s a hashtag gamer and builds PCs in his spare time and texts like a high schooler. he’s chill but loses any semblance of it once he’s around jamie. homoerotic rivalries aside, he comes from humble beginnings ( sf5 luke i love you but my god ). he’s the face of sf6. but he’s literally Just Some Random Fucking Guy.

you talk with him more, you become acquainted with him, and inevitably he begins to worry about you when you get involved in man gear gang shenanigans. he’s a bit of a doter. he’s a softie. he’s a big macho guy with a heart of gold and an incredibly dorky exterior. he’s terrified of horror games and probably owns a cat.

all i’m saying is luke is a great character and i absolutely love him. funky little guy doing his funky little dances and silly little flips.

[raccoons-art]

Board comms for my wonderful friend Roman!!

[k1w1fru1t]

Spoilers for the Acrane Academy series finale!!!

I think August absolutely has the gall to turn on the puppy eyes and the "I'm ur best friend" act the second Mage passes and becomes a ghost. Not ten minutes ago, he was all "Umbra, Slice!" (A bit like a Pokémon trainer tbh). But then he gets salty about being the only one eternally bound to Honeywood on account of dying within its borders. Like I can imagine he and Mage both on either side of the Honeywood borders and August being like "I know I caused ur death but we're still friends right? Will u accept an apology hug? (And come within Honeywood's borders, therefore becoming forever trapped)" (Idk if that's how it works tho, might only be if you die proper in there but roll with me here.) In like, *that* voice, you know?

[catgirl-or-furry]

Remembering that time a kid in my class wanted to be a streamer and streamed fortnite on YouTube to like 3 viewers tops and I watched him often because he asked for support and I was nice. Then one day he started trash-talking me on his stream.