#but no it's a teen girl doing teen girl things

[see-arcane]

You know the one good thing about being a pessimist?

It feels great to be proven wrong.

Bravo, Bobby Egg.

I was so happily surprised by this. This film went through a fantastic puberty between the leaked script and the screen. The main points to note:

-No, Ellen is not hot for Count Orlok. She and Thomas are 110% in love. There are even certain Harker-flavored quotes thrown in to prove as much. (Details under the cut.)

-Count Orlok is a terrifying bastard and a half. Significantly more imposing than classic Orlok’s spindly rigor mortis-stiff figure and only wearing a sliver of Dracula’s performative charm. He is a Devil-Death archetype playing a monster who operates in deceit and contracts to wring out what he wants. That and a lot of corpses.

-This film is so beautiful. No gothic touch is skipped.

In sum, I more than like this film. I love it. It isn’t perfect, because no film can be, but damn. I am so proud of this nightmare you made, Bobby Egg.

SPOILERS FOR Nosferatu (2024) BELOW

-Getting some cons out of the way. There are points where a few of the actors lean maybe a bit too heavy on the ham-and-cheese in their deliveries (I’ll not blame the kids, they’re very young, but yeesh. That’s some cartoon acting.)

Yes, the g-slur is still used; though while I wish it hadn’t appeared in Eggers’ script at all, it does make sense within the context of the setting, i.e. Thomas and the Innkeeper probably only having the one word they know, same as in Dracula. And yes, naked teenage girl-on-a-horse does happen for the vampire hunt scene. Whee.

-Now, an early pro: Eggers nixed the ‘hot teen girl tries to pickpocket Thomas’ bit, and the ‘land of phantoms and thieves’ line never happens. All that happens after Thomas wakes in the inn—post witnessing the vampire slaying in the local graveyard, mud on his shoes to prove it was real—is he discovers himself utterly alone. No people, no horse. Cue the long walk.

-Ellen doing the ‘Come to me,’ bit early on is her in adolescence. It’s revealed that her Weird Girl elements have been turned up to 11, tragic lonely past included (replete with dad threatening to send her to a madhouse), and her prayer was just for company. The psychic ping was picked up by Orlok, who took advantage, turning an isolated and desperate barely-more-than-a-kid’s wish into a ‘covenant.’

-Thomas was met not long after this, cue them being genuinely in love <3

-Knock Does Not Jerk Off On Screen. If he does, his back is to us, and Little Knock is covered with some occult tablet or suchlike while he’s doing his ritual business. Also he kills a guy in his cell. Using his teeth.

-Castle time! Thomas is greeted by a driverless carriage at a crossroads and seems to be hypnotized into stepping in. A lot of things Thomas does once in Orlok’s territory seem to very clearly have psychic puppet strings attached. That and some increasing terror on Thomas’ part. There is no warm Dracula-style welcome from Orlok when he arrives, but a terse and strange leading to the dinner table where paperwork is demanded.

- We get a glimpse of this version of the Count’s ego. Thomas calls him sir. Orlok demands Thomas address him as my lord. And then we get the bread cutting scene. Thomas’ thumb bleeds. Orlok get far too interested. His voice, a very guttural and rasping bass, turns into something closer to an animal trilling and growling. Thomas is paralyzed beside the fire; cut away as Orlok closes in.

-Ellen and Anna Harding have a bit of a Mina and Lucy deal going on at the beach. It’s sweet <3 (Prepare for pain </3)

 - Orlok starts getting tricky. He 1) borrows (steals) Ellen’s locket from Thomas and 2) Tricks Thomas into signing a contract to ‘sell’ Ellen/break their marriage via a strange contract in a language Thomas can’t read, with Orlok using the prop of some gold to imply that this is merely a document in ~his native language~ to complete the property sale. Thomas signs, less for the gold than to be gone from the castle and back to Ellen…only for Orlok to insist Thomas is not well. He must stay the night.

- No mind games here. Just Thomas pleading to leave and Orlok’s parting word being that he will stay, and that he will obey his orders.

-Orlok has already chomped Thomas on the tiddy as of last night. Next night, after Thomas almost lands a blow on him in the coffin—Orlok sleeps with his Orcock out in the box, by the way, alongside several rats—Orlok wills Thomas to unlock the door he shut between them. Cue Thomas being tranced onto the bed, pounced on, and basically dry-humped by Orlok as he drinks Thomas all but dry. Thomas is left that way, only to be woken by Orlok’s wolves—he has those too!—and go clambering out the window, dropping to the river below.

-Orlok makes Ellen’s life hell. Holy fuck. The 1838 quality ‘medicine’ definitely doesn’t help—corsets for correcting posture, draining blood because there’s too much in there, binding to the bedposts to stop sleepwalking, general drugging etc etc—but FUCK. Lily-Rose Depp did a great and terrible job of reproducing shaking fits and some of the faces and sounds she made had me thinking I might choke on my own tongue. And for all the sexually provocative poses/noises that happen, every time she comes out of it it’s clear that she hates this. It’s on par with psychic rape.

-The only times we see Ellen respond positively~ to Orlok’s dream-advances is when she’s telling Thomas about the ‘marrying Death’ dream where everyone died and she was deliriously happy and then the infamous trailer line about Thomas not being able to satisfy her as Orlok can~~~

Well guess what.

Guess fucking what.

That was Orlok leaning on her brain. The same way he did to Thomas when, eventually, after the nuns rescue him and pray the plague/vampirism out and he makes it home while half-dead, he lays in bed with Ellen and gets a panic attack combined with Orlok’s image being grafted over Ellen’s face…

…a reverse of the illusion Orlok gave him in the castle, with Thomas imagining it was Ellen on top of him instead. The effect terrifies Thomas all over again and he unwittingly tosses Ellen away, I can't breathe, get off of me, get off!

-Orlok does his murder snacking. Knock, who escaped, offers to find and kill Thomas to please the Count, literally on his hands and knees. Orlok calls him a dog and backhands him, insisting Ellen must be given, not stolen.

-Orlok has already visited Ellen by this time. He presses her to keep her deal with him. She tells him, flat out, I abhor you. In response, Orlok grabs her and chucks her like a ragdoll in a rage. He fumes, telling her he will give her three nights to pledge herself to him, and in the meantime he will start killing. (RIP to Anna and her little girls, the latter of whom ORLOK KILLS IN FRONT OF HER, EATING THEIR THROATS OUT AS SHE ENTERS THEIR ROOM.)

-Before all that, he spins bullshit about Thomas ~selling her to him for mere gold~. A technical truth that Ellen, mid-Orlok spell, spits back at Thomas amid a rage, along with details that are likewise based in only a granule of reality; but which Orlok did not mention in their scene together. Things like Thomas being weak and childish, that he ‘fell into Orlok’s arms like a fainting woman.’ Interesting choice of spin there, Orlok. But whatever.

This all culminates in what is either reality or a dream or a blend of both as Thomas makes sudden desperate love to her, Ellen weirdly heady about it, telling him yes yes yes they will show Orlok their love. Cue her snapping back to full cognizance (awake? dreaming?) as her eyes and mouth spurt blood in a vision. She collapses in fear and tears as Thomas holds her. AND THEN:

-Ellen. Drops. The I am unclean line. She wants Thomas away from her, she is not worthy, she puts him in danger.

-Thomas goes full Jonathan and clings to her. Nonsense. I love you. I love you. I love you.

-V i n d i c a t i o n

-Anyway.

-Dafoe-Von Franz-Van Helsing is a kooky science occultist. Finds a book that Knock had which fills the role of highlighting Orlok as Solomonari (hey, Scholomance shout out!) and Knock as a would-be beneficiary. Also includes the ‘maiden offers her body and blood to the monster to kill it via sunrise’ bit.

-While he reads this, he does NOT actually spell any of these details out to Ellen when they have their secret mini talk about tricking Thomas into hunting for the coffin with him and Sievers. He gives her a big ~you're the only one who can save us magic maiden martyr~ pep talk, but that's it. Meanwhile, Ellen was already preparing to offer herself to save Thomas and whoever’s left in Wisborg. Not the same kind of agency as the original, but still better than I was expecting.

-Harding, Thomas’ rich friend whose wife and children got drinked to death, dies of plague in the family tomb. They burn the bodies.

-In the ruin Orlok bought, cue the iron stake slamming down as they open the coffin..! But whoops. Knock’s in the box, not Orlok. Von Franz says Ellen offering herself is the only way~ Thomas doesn’t waste time throttling him, just makes a run for their home.

-Too late, of course. Orlok is there (with a very cool homage to the original stalking shadow silhouette routine) and Ellen welcomes him. While they are both naked in bed and it’s implied that they are/or intend to have sex, the bulk of the scene centers on Orlok taking Ellen’s blood from her breast. No clear shot of the Orcock on screen for that bit—Bobby Egg saved that pleasure for the Count flashing Thomas at the castle.

-Orlok’s death throes. Are so. Fucking. Cool. Definitely up there with one of the best vampiric demises I’ve ever seen on film. No spoilers there. You’ve got to see it.

-Heartbreak o’ Clock as Thomas bursts in just as Orlok has died and as Ellen is dying under him. There’s time for them to hold hands. And then she’s gone.

-We close on Von Franz popping up with some poetic soliloquy shit and a bunch of lilacs. The final beat is an overhead shot of Ellen, the Maiden, laying under the now-skeletal Orlok, as Death. Looks almost like a painting. Unlike the implication in the leaked script, she does not look happy/at peace. Simply asleep. The End.

-Other important notes:

1) Orlok has a little combover’s worth of hair on top and mighty and powerful ‘stache. Not Dracula-white, but it is there. Finally.

 2) The guy who plays Dr. Sievers has Alan Rickman’s voice. If he isn’t in opera, he should be.

3) I was too late to get a popcorn coffin box. I shall be in mourning until the New Year.

4) Bobby Egg if you can give me one more gift, let it be a deleted scene of Thomas beating Von Franz over the head with the iron stake, please and thank you <3

[mountainsandmayhem]

Merry Christmas, Little Dove

18+. Minors, Do Not Interact

Summary: You and Joel celebrate your Christmas tradition. OR Joel fucks you in front of the Christmas tree.

WC: 3.7k of straight filth

AN: this is not proofread or beta read, so just take it like the good girl you are 😉 Headers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

TW: multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names, unprotected P-in-V (relax they’re both in their 40’s and in a long term relationship), one single slap, two drops of spit, oral (both ways), mentions of alcohol consumption

Main Masterlist || More of Joel & Little Dove

You watch the way his soft, dark green t-shirt stretches against his muscle-lined back as he places the gifts under the tree. The house is quiet, and both your daughters are asleep in their childhood bedrooms. The living room is basked in the warm glow of only the tree and electric fireplace. Joel is meticulously putting presents out, completely focused on his role as Santa Claus. This is one of the things you love most about your partner. He might have this tough, grumpy exterior, but he’s never been afraid to exude the Christmas spirit. When Ellie and Sarah were young, he would spend hours driving from store to store to find exactly what they wanted. He’d stayed up all night once building Sarah’s Barbie dream house and Ellie’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pizza parlour so they’d be surprised in the morning.

You smile to yourself over the years and years of memories in this room, and the smile is bigger knowing your college-aged daughters still want to come home for Christmas with mom and dad. You tiptoe over to the record player, putting on Joel’s favourite Frank Sinatra Christmas vinyl. As the soft tones of ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas’ filter from the speakers Joel stands and turns to face you.

“Hi, baby. Where’s the girls?”

“I think someone got a little heavy-handed with the whiskey in the hot toddies,” you say with a raise of an eyebrow. He smirks, closing the distance between the two of you as he pulls you in to slow dance with him. “You might have two hungover daughters tomorrow morning.”

Your body meets his and need floods your system almost immediately. He smells like cedar and whiskey, his large palm rests on your lower back and you sway along with him.

“I’ll make them an Irish coffee tomorrow and they’ll be good as new. Besides, you and I wouldn’t be able to do our Christmas tradition if they were awake.”

“Joel Miller,” you say with a shocked laugh. “Did you do this on purpose?”

“Perhaps,” he smirks down at you, his dimple on full display as his eyes darken with arousal.

“Devious,” you whisper before his lips sponge against yours. Truthfully, it’s been years since the two of you did your actual Christmas tradition. When the girls were younger, after all the gifts were under the tree and the cookies were eaten, Joel would turn out all the lights and then strip you bare in front of the tree and fuck you softly. But when the girls became teens it was too risky to just fuck out in the open like that.

Joel’s hands come to your waist pulling at the black shirt you have tucked into your high-waisted jeans. You squeak as he pulls. “What kind of witchcraft is this?” He jokes between kisses when the shirt doesn’t come out.

You giggle against his mouth, “It’s a bodysuit.”

“Mmm, with the little snaps where my Christmas present is?” His voice is lower and more seductive now.

“Yes, sir.” You say, the shift in the air between you two makes it hard to breathe.

Joel makes slow work of the button and the zipper on your jeans before lowering you to the ground. The slow sounds of Frank Sinatra are somewhere in the background, but at this moment all you can see, hear and feel is your beautiful partner above you, kissing anywhere he can reach.

He raises on his knees and tugs your jeans off, guiding your feet to fall on each side of him, then pulls his shirt over his head. The glow of the tree turns his body into a work of art. The dips of his muscles along his chest and shoulders are darker, making him look bigger than he is. Your hands reach towards the button of his jeans but he grabs your wrists to stop you.

“Not yet, little dove,” Joel’s voice is a scratchy whisper as he leans forward, pinning your hands above your head. “Stay like this for me, ok?”

You nod and hum out an agreeable sound before he sits back up, his warm, rough fingers trailing along your covered arms, breasts, and stomach as he comes to rest on his heels. Your breaths quicken at the sight of him and then stop altogether as he runs a finger along the gusset of your body suit.

“Gods you’re so beautiful, baby.” He whispers it like a hymn like you’re the deity he prays to, and you know you’re about to be worshipped.

“I need you,” you moan, clenching your fists to stay in his desired position.

“Do ya now?” Joel smiles softly, his finger grazing at your clit through your clothing. “Tell me what you want.”

“Take the rest of my clothes off and fuck me all slow and gentle until I come and then fill me up.” It’s a whispered request.

His finger hooks through the bodysuit and you gasp, then grind your hips to try to get him to touch you where you need it most. His eyes widen and the feel of your soaked pussy along the back of his knuckle. “Did you attend our wholesome Christmas Eve family dinner without any panties on, little dove?”

You bite down on your bottom lip as your cheeks flush pink. “Yes.”

With the flick of his finger the snaps on your bodysuit open. “Naughty girl.”

You lift your hips so he can slide the body suit up, which he does until your lacy red bra is exposed, but he’s much too preoccupied looking at your completely bare pussy. “Something looks different here,” he says with an eyebrow raised.

You feel shy all of a sudden, butterflies bursting in your stomach. When the two of you were in your twenties this was standard, but as you both got older you started leaving more hair. Joel never complained, now you’re worried he doesn’t like it.

“I got it waxed for you.”

He licks his lips before looking up at you. “Little dove, you know you don’t have to do that, right? I love your pussy just as much when it isn’t shaved.”

“I know,” you say, bringing your knees together nervously.

“Whoa, not so fast,” his hands come to your knees, pressing them apart. “I just want you to know that before I go down and don’t come up. Because this was my plan either way. I’m going to lick your perfect pussy until you pry me off. And then I’m going to fuck you so slowly, and only when you’re begging for it am I going slam into you until you come.”

The silence between you is thick with arousal before you croak, “Colour system?”

Joel lowers his body to the ground. His warm breath hits your soaked cunt as he speaks. “Yes, little dove. What do you say if you want to stop?”

“Red,” your hips lift closer to his mouth, and he presses down against your hips with one of his forearms and tuts at you.

“And if you need a break or for me to slow down?”

“Yellow,” you whine.

He slides his forearm to the side, placing his warm hand on your mount and pulls back slightly to expose your clit. “Look at you, little dove. So wet and perfect. Give me a colour.”

Goosebumps break out across your skin and you sink into the floor, wholly submitting to Joel as you whisper, “Green.”

Joel’s lips come to your center kissing your clit lightly before he dives in. Licking long hot lines from the bottom of your pussy to the top. Your hands fly to hair, carding through the girls and he groans at the slight pain in his scalp as you tug.

“Oh god, fuckfuck,” you chant out along with his name as he pulls a quick orgasm out of you almost immediately.

“Already, little dove?” He asks, smirking between licks.

“You feel so good. Joel.”

He continues to taste you, now focusing just on your clit with the flat of his tongue. He applies just the right amount of pressure and circles your sensitive bud slowly. You arch your back off the floor as a tingling pleasure starts to build.

“I’m gonna come again, baby.” You gasp, keeping your voice low even though you want to scream.

He keeps doing exactly as he has been, knowing you’re loving it and soon you fall apart for him again. The waves of this orgasm are stronger and you try to squirm out of his grasp as you come down from high.

“Too much. S’too much,” it’s almost a cry.

Joel pins your hips down again, and with his broad shoulders between your legs you can’t close them. “One more, little dove. You can give me one more.”

“No, please. Fuck me now. I can’t.” You’re practically panting and the mixture of the pleasure and the hot totty from earlier has your skin on fire.

His free hand comes between your legs. He gathers your arousal with his ring and middle fingers, effectively turning you into a writhing, moaning mess before slipping his fingers deep inside you and sucking your puffy clit between his lips.

You slide your feet closer to your body and try to squeeze your thigh shut. It’s no use, you could clamp Joel’s head between them like an MMA fighter but that wouldn’t stop him and you know it.

“Relax,” he murmurs before suckling on your clit again.

“Fuck me, god. So good.” You’re sure that’s what you say but at this point, you can barely form a thought.

He taps his finger along the front wall a few times before hooking them forward. Pleasure overwhelms you and you go boneless. Your knees fall open, your hands all from his hair and your eyes shut. This is how Joel likes you. Pliable. Agreeable. Completely his.

“There’s my pretty little dove,” he admires and flicks his wrist up and down to taunt your g spot while sucking harder on your clit.

Pressure builds at the base of your spine and you mumble how good it feels. It takes all the strength you can muster but you get yourself up on your elbows to push Joel’s finger in deeper and within seconds the pressure snaps and every fiber of your being is lit ablaze as you come for a third.

“Joel, fuuuuuck. Yes, mmmmm, oh god.”

He lets out a quiet, devious laugh and it vibrates against your pussy, causing another strong wave of your orgasm to flood your system. You need him to stop but never want him to stop at the same time. Your hips grind on their own as you come down. Joel knows your body better than anyone so he stops moving; just keeps his finger crooked forward and his tongue pressed to your clit and lets you take what you need.

The whimper that leaves your lips as you slow your hips is his cue to stop teasing your clit. He pulls back and whispers up at you.

“You’re so beautiful when you fall apart like that. My naughty little dove. Right in front of Santa Claus and everything, hmm?”

“Fuck me, Joel. Please. I need to feel you inside me.”

He slips his fingers out slowly as he crawls up your body. His wet fingers come to your lips.

“Suck,” he commands, “But don’t swallow.”

Eagerly you suck his fingers into your mouth, lapping up your heady sweetness and letting it rest on your tongue. Joel slips his fingers from your lips and kisses you, ducking your tongue into his mouth and swallowing your arousal. You both moan in tandem, and as if his kiss has put you under some sort of spell you’re on the verge of coming again at just the feel of his strong body on top of yours. He breaks the kiss and then winces.

You stifle a laugh, “I guess we aren’t in our twenties anymore, are we?”

“No,” he huffs. “But that’s not going to stop me from fucking you on the floor tonight.”

You scratch your fingers through his soft, short beard. Admiring the way it’s more grey than just a few months ago.

“Why don’t you let me get on top, sir.” You soften your expression and bat your eyelashes, knowing he’s usually powerless under your puppy dog eyes.

He shifts his weight above you to his other knee; the left one, and you know that because it’s the one that bothers him less.

“You gonna listen when you’re up there?” His eyes darken as he says it. You aren’t sure what kind of punishment he could come up with the girls being home for the next two weeks, but you aren’t about to find out.

“Yes, sir,” you say with your voice full of sweetness. He rolls the two of you and you land on top of him with a quiet squeak. His legs part to make room for you between them. You already know what’s coming next.

“Take my cock out, little dove.” His voice a husky growl.

You sit up between his thighs, resting on your heels. Before following his demands, you reach for your bodysuit and slowly peel it off your body and over your head. He presses his lips together to stop the smile.

“No panties and that see-through red bra I love so much? Was someone planning to get fucked tonight?”

You trail your fingers along the cups of your bra, your nipples hardening at attention through the fabric. “Maybe,” you wink.

Joel sits up so quickly that it startles you, the strong muscles behind his soft tummy rippling as he does it. His hands wrap around your wrists and through gritted teeth he commands, “Then take out my fucking cock, little dove. Get it nice and wet. Then, when I tell you to, sit on it and stay still like a good little girl until I tell you what to do.”

You go to kiss him but he lays back down with his hands behind his head and a cock smile on his face. You’re panting, you’re not sure when that happened. You lick your lips and your hands fly to the button of his jeans. Undoing it with shaky hands and then pull at the zipper. He’s rock-hard behind his black boxers. He shifts his hips so you can tug the jeans and his underwear down to sit just below his ass. His cock springs free and you don’t waste a single second, grabbing it by the base and lowering your face towards him. He watches you intensely.

“That’s it. Get it nice and wet, baby. Gotta make sure he can slide into that tight, little pussy of yours.”

You stop your lips mere inches from the tip of his leaking cock and look up at him. Without breaking eye contact you let saliva fall from your mouth and land on his cock. You clock the way his breathing halts as he watches it fall from your velvety lips to his aching cock, and the way he shudders an exhale as it runs down his shaft to your hand. You do it again, this time smiling up at him and then biting your bottom lip and the spit makes its sensual trail from his tip to your hand.

“Suck my cock, little dove. Now.”

Your lips are around his cock in an instant, sliding down as deep as you can go and holding it there. You breathe through your nose and let saliva pool in your cheeks before sliding up to the tip, coating his shaft with your spit. When you reach the top, you flick your tongue along the bottom ridge.

Joel groans, “Such a good listener.”

The praise washes over you, encouraging you to repeat your previous motion. You press him deeper this time, stopping when you feel him at the back of your throat.

“Fuck, little dove.” Joel’s voice is rough but full of admiration.

As your saliva starts to leak from your lips you pull back slowly, swirling your tongue along every ridge and vein that line the bottom of his cock. Your eyes meet his again as your tongue rounds the tip of his dick, the salty tang of his pre cum floods your system like a drug.

“Sit,” he accentuates the T and you scramble to straddle him.

You put your right knee on the floor, bending your left leg up so you can put your foot on the floor. This position saves one of your knees and you can usually get better leverage in a half squat versus a straddle. One of his hands comes to your right hip, the other wraps around his cock, holding it steady as you line yourself up.

The thick head prods at your entrance and you moan as you slide down the first few inches. “So good, Joel.”

“Mm-hmm, you have been good. Keep going, baby.” He releases his grip from his cock so you can take more of him. “That’s my girl. Taking it so well.”

You breathe through the stretch as your hips settle against his, then lean back to rest your hands on his muscle-packed thighs.

“Little dove, tell me how it feels.”

“Mmmm, so full,” you half whine, half pant.

He flexes his hips forward slightly at the neediness in your tone. “Gotta relax for me before you can move.”

His thumb comes to brush your clit. A small sob escapes your throat, “M’trying to.”

“I know, baby,” he coos, his thumb barely touching you as he circles it along your swollen clit. “You’re doin’ so good. Just breathe, little dove. Make room for my cock in that pretty little pussy of yours.”

You make a conscious effort to relax; unclenching your jaw and then letting your shoulders fall. Your head lulls back, the star on top of the tree and the smell of pine needles surrounds you. A fresh wave of arousal floods between your thighs and the pinch of him turns to pleasure.

“Good job, little dove. Are you ready to move?”

“Please. Oh gods. Please!”

“Sshhh, you’re ok. Nice and slow, honey.” His hand on your hip guides you back and forth. The motion is almost infinitesimal, but the forward rocking puts pressure on your g-spot and the thumb that still hovers about your clit. “Eyes on me now, baby.”

You tilt your chin down until your sparkling eyes meet his dark ones. He continues, “Can you do as you're told?”

You nod as a breathy plea leaves your lips, “Yes, sir. I will. Please, it feels so good.”

“I want you to ride me until you’re right on the edge of coming and then stop. Can you do that?”

“No,” you whine. “Why? I wanna come. Please.”

“You will. If you listen like the good little girl I know you can be, I’ll let you come. But first, you have to earn it.” He squeezes at your hip, his short nails digging into the skin.

You stick out your bottom lip and say a sad, “Okay.”

“Give me your hand.” You move one of his hands from his thighs. He guides your hand to your clit and then wraps his hand around your left ankle. “Show me, little dove.”

You take the reins, rubbing tight circles along your clit as you grind back and forth. Your orgasm builds in an instant.

“Shit can feel how close you are already,” Joel grits out.

“Please let me come. I’ll do anything.” You change to a circular motion, shifting your weight to the left, using the squat position for more friction.

“Don’t you dare! You said you can do as you're told,” he reminds you roughly, then uses the hand that was clamped on your right hip to slap your inner left thigh. “Don’t make me punish you.”

The pain from his strike sends warmth right to your core and you stop before you come. You let out a sad whine and fall forward, hands landing on either side of your head as you catch your breath.

“Please!” You murmur.

“God, little dove. You have no idea what it does to me when you listen like that. Such a good little submissive, aren’t you?” His hand runs from your right hip up your back, finger flicking the clasp of your bra open. “Sit back up. You earned it, little dove. Use my cock. Make us come.”

The lacy red bra slides down your arms as you sit up and you toss it towards the tree before riding him like it’s the last time. Your hands fly to your breast, rolling your nipples between your fingers in time with your hips. Nothing compares to the feeling of Joel's thick cock filling you. It’s indescribable and so fucking addicting even after almost fifteen years together.

The rough pad of his thumb loves back to your clit and you gasp. “Please don’t make me stop again, Joel. I’m so close.”

“I know, baby. I won’t. Fucking Christ, squeezin me so tight. I’m not gonna last.” The last part is a whimper.

“I’m gonna come,” you moan.

“Me too, little dove. Let go, fuuuck, let go for me.”

The sparks behind your clit turn into a fire, scalding every nerve ending as it spreads throughout your body. You bite down on your hand to stop from screaming as you twitch on his cock. Your pussy clenches tightly around him a few times before you feel him burst inside of you. His grip on your hip tightens again as he whines softly. Your eyes lock on his, the veins in his neck popping as he whispers your name and praises how good you feel wrapped around him.

Your highs seem to last forever before he reaches up to pull you down on top of him. Helping you shift your weight so you straddle him fully. He plasters you to his chest, the thin layer of both of your sweat mixing. Your heart races behind your ribs as you catch your breath, an occasional after-shock causing your pussy to flutter gently on his slowly softening cock.

“Oh my god,” you say, relaxing into his warmth.

“You ok, baby?” He sponges a kiss to your hairline.

“Mm-hmm. So good. Sleepy, but amazing.” Your mumble, kissing his chest.

His hands run along the lines of your back. “Good. Merry Christmas, little dove.”

[guiltyc0nscience]

camille’s master list ⋆˙⟡🩰

completed matt fics — 6

completed chris fics — 15

key — ꣑ৎ = angst ˗ˏˋ = personal favs ☆ = fluff ❀ = smut

matt sturniolo ⋆˙⟡

— ❀ matt the munch

“in which matt’s favourite thing to do to you, is going down on you.”

— ꣑ৎ ☆ where do broken hearts go?

“in which matt feels like you aren’t considering his feelings and not putting as much effort into your relationship as he is, so he brings it up to you which results in conflict but was quick to be resolved.”

— ☆ if the world was ending i’d wanna be next to you

“in which cute things matter does in a relationship.”

— ❀ he’s so pretty when he goes down on me

“in which your favourite part of sex with matt is when he goes down on you because you think he just looks so perfect.”

— ❀ behind the frames

“in which while making out with matt, his glasses get in the way and you have to take them off mid make-out.”

— ꣑ৎ lacy, oh, lacy

“in which your ex-boyfriend, matt, gets a new girlfriend and you envy her.”

chris sturniolo ⋆˙⟡

— ❀ hickey

“in which while you and chris were having time alone, matt interrupted you both.”

— ꣑ৎ josslyn

“in which while chris was in the shower he got an incoming call and he told you to answer it without thinking and when you do, you find out that he had another girl on the side.”

— ꣑ৎ ☆ pretty isn’t pretty

“in which one year ago you suffered from an ED, where at one point you thought there was no turning point but chris proved you wrong. fast forward one year, you’re back in the same dark pit, but chris is there yet again to help you out.”

— ❀☆ we can hear and see, ya know?

“in which while you and the triplets were in chicago, you and chris were having a moment, you didn’t think matt and nick could see you but you were proved wrong.”

— ☆ surf curse

“in which you convinced chris to do the latest tiktok trend with you.”

— coke and vodka

“in which while at one of chris’ frat parties, he takes a shot of vodka and a line of cocaine off of your body as he is head-to-head with his frat brother who can do it quicker off their girlfriends.”

— ❀ yapper

“in which chris is yapping away with his fingers in your mouth because you kept interrupting him while he was talking.”

— ☆ clothing haul

“in which whole you were away visiting family in florida, chris sends you a video of him showing you the clothes that you had ordered online.”

— ❀ flashed

“in which while arguing with chris, you flashed him to shut him up.”

— ꣑ৎ this is me trying

“in which chris tried so hard to support you through your drug addiction that had been ongoing for a year. every time he got you out, you fell back into the same hole. one day, chris had finally had enough and had a talk with you about wether or not you were willing to change for him, but once you say you can’t, he leaves your relationship behind for good.”

— ꣑ৎ☆ dumb teens in love

“in which you and chris were young and you fooled around with each other, and after realising things weren’t right, you took a pregnancy test. finding out you were pregnant and were having a baby with chris sturniolo at 18.”

— ꣑ৎ at your worst

“in which after a hurtful fight between you and chris, he comes and apologises after a few days, and he promises to stay forever—even at your worst.”

— ꣑ৎ i hope ur miserable until ur dead

“in which you walk away from chris after releasing he’s run out of chances to break your heart.”

— ꣑ৎ tough love

“in which you and chris struggle to confront your growing distance and fear of losing each other.”

blurbs ⋆˙⟡

chris is obsessed with the bulge in your throat when sucking him off

[beuxwhoyouare]

Escaping Holiday Responsibilities

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and all the boys. And who can forget about singing Hanerot Halalu after lighting the menorah. There’s symbols and entities representing all of the holidays. But outside of the season we enjoy our peace and quiet. Sometimes though a season is so rough you can’t really blame an entity for wanting to get away.

I may or may not be Santa Claus. I’d say the best perk about the gig is that when the time comes you’re almost guided to your successor who then dons the classic look. So it’s a give and take. I mean having the power to fulfill lists of gifts you desire is great, but acquiring the look of a tubby bearded old man isn’t all that. The coolest thing though is you may not know it, but just because you don’t write a list doesn’t mean you don’t have holiday desires. I can still deliver gifts based on the list you make in your hearts. Cute as hell right? I’m basically a mind reader!

Before all this Claus business, I was unemployed and recently divorced when I received the call to step into the good ol boots. So a gig is a gig. I took it and ran, but that was like 30 years ago. So now once I retire I’m actually gonna look old and ragged.

So there I was last night delivering gifts at this random place in Chicago. Doing my best to stay quiet, delivering gifts as low key as possible when CRAAAAAACK! I stepped on a large glass ornament I somehow missed. I thought I was in the clear after no one came to check what happened and as I headed on my way out a baseball bat swung at my head.

I took the hit like a champ but when I turned around to see I saw a man standing there in black sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt with the bat ready to swing again.

“Ho ho hey hey wait. I’m literally Santa.” I whisper yelled while showing snowy crystals come out of my glove.

Right as he began to swing again I pulled more tricks out of my hat.

“I know your name is Russell O’Connor. You got a gunmetal tricycle as a 4 year old because you thought the red ones the store had were tacky and wanted to look tough!”

That’s when he stopped mid-swing.

“How-how did you know that pervert? Have you been watching me for years?”

I began to hear his inner list….a young man now in his mid-20s regretting his life decisions to get a girl knocked up as a teen? Interesting. He desires to get away from the so-called mess he made.

“I can offer you a way out of the mess you made. If that’s what your true hearts wish is this Christmas?!” I pleaded to not be beaten once again.

“How do you know what I want freak?”

“Bro I’m Santa, I know when you’ve been like bad or good and whatever. Listen do you want to get away from the mess you made or what?”

“Yes okay but like how are you going to do it? You’re not going to kill me or anything?”

“Honestly no one’s really ever wished for this so I gotta be able to do it somehow. That’s the Santa magic!”

“Okay let’s go for it. Do it! Get me out of here!”

I closed my eyes and rubbed my gloved hands together and then pulled them apart. As I pulled them apart a spark started forming but I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I tried to hold it steady but before I knew it, the spark grew too wild to control. The energy then turned white and exploded.

There was a ringing and we both yelled but then black.

When I woke up I found myself pushing up from a bed? That’s weird I don’t remember finishing all my deliveries. I reached up to scratch my beard but instead of my long luscious white beard a more close shaved beard grazed my hand. Wait where are my gloves? And my beard?

I looked down at the bed I didn’t recognize before looking back up to walk over to a nearby restroom with the night light on. The dim glow painted a picture I couldn’t believe. Surely I’m dreaming?

I fumbled around the foreign room before locating the light switch, only to have the bright lights confirm what I was seeing. I raised both arms and posed….

“No fucking way!?” The cursing surprised me, being a Claus the job prevents your mouth from ever even forming a curse word.

I’m Russell? But the Santa step down process just returns you to your normal self not swaps you with someone? How did this? Could my desires have matched with his conflicting my magics intent?

I lifted the shirt barely hiding anything of my new body I now resided in. Woah…I wasn’t much of a gym person in my former life but maybe there’s reason to be. I mean look at this beef? I reached my muscular hand up to my new proud chest and squeezed. Ahhh grazing my new nipple I revealed a new found sensitivity I never previously had. Looks like that’s going to be fun, I nearly salivated.

I can do adult things again and live a life again! No more having to spend months working to achieve someone else’s dreams. Or maybe I’ll fulfill other dirtiest dreams. I mean this body should go to work somehow.

I’m sure OnlyFans would love to see how thick I am everywhere. It’s time to be a family man settle down the right way and make a good living by selling the best gift I’ve ever given myself.

My new tool hardening nearly pulling down my sweatpants waistband itself. I grabbed it before taking a peak at my new equipment. Ohhhhh looks like I’ll still be delivering gifts to quite a few people in different ways with this beer can.

[hhughes]

❝ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 ❜❜

𝓐bout ; some canon things in the “JWBCTY” universe. these headcanons touch on little characteristics about luke’s!bsf!reader , canon things about her relationships with people you’ll often see featured in blurbs or just canon events that happen within this AU.

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 ; luke’s!bsf!reader x quinn hughes 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 ; headcanons. sfw. like one use of y/n , beware lol. 𝔁𝓸 𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓲 ; these are little things I envision about luke’s!bsf!reader and the universe this is set in while I’m writing. she’s very much set up to be an OC but all of my writing will be done in reader!insert format and therefore she’s not completely an original character and can be read as reader insert. as I said before this au is set up differently than my previous ones, and you as the reader are “playing” the character. these little things are not completely set in stone and just like you are imagining that you’re luke’s best friend while reading, you can imagine that any of the following things are true and canon in this little universe. that being said, it's very much a take what you want and leave what you don’t type of situation because many of these details won’t be heavily present in the writing, unless you as the reader request and ask for it to be. this is meant to give you some freedom in how you want things to go down , but still leaves room for requesting specific things if you want to. if you have any questions about the formatting of this au or any thoughts at all, don’t hesitate to drop by the inbox. this is a growing list so be sure to add to it if you’d like by sending stuff in <33

꒰੭ Y/N L/N (reader / you) ᭪

also known as . . . quinn’s angel, sweet girl and sweetheart. luke’s very best friend in the whole wide world (don’t tell duker). jack’s little sister (that he never asked for but has always wanted). trevor’s partner in crime. (feel free to use any of the nicknames mentioned when requesting so you don’t have to say [luke’s!bsf!reader] each time , unless you prefer that <3)

is the same age as luke. there’s a bit of an age gap between you and quinn.

majoring in chemical engineering at the university of michigan. graduating june ‘25.

has a sweet tooth. the guys all carry around a stock of candy and sweet treats when they know they’re gonna be in your presence because they know you love to snack on them.

very bubbly and happy. you love to see the best in people and try to find the positive in every situation.

you like reading. something you and your hughes boys have in common , although your taste in books might be a little different. >_<

as a result of your sweet tooth , you’re an avid baker. you love baking and the guys both love and hate it because they can never say no to one of your baked goods.

you don’t have a big family so you always enjoy being included in hughes family events

you’re a bit introverted and a bit extroverted and often switch between the two depending on how you feel on the day.

you’re very stubborn and like to do things by yourself and in the way you wanna do them. you’re not someone that likes to accept help from others, but you are someone who loves helping others. ( this frustrates quinn to no end )

little quirks/habits include . . . cracking your knuckles when nervous (something you picked up from luke), blowing your hair out of your face, biting your lip when you’re deep in thought.

you’re giggly/clingy/overly affectionate when drunk. constantly telling everyone how much you adore them and how much they mean to you.

꒰੭ you and luke ᭪

you and luke are the definition of platonic soulmates. from the moment you met as kids, throughout your awkward tween years and angsty teen phases, to going to umich together, you have seen each other at the lowest of lows and highest of highs and still decided to stick it out. no one knows you better than him and vice versa.

luke is very protective over you. even his own brothers have gotten a punch or two when they’ve said something to you that luke didn’t like. he also kind of inserts himself in your love life but it’s more a ‘you’re my best friend and I want what’s best for you’ rather than ‘i’m secretly in love with you’

he’s very oblivious to the feelings you have for quinn, and even more oblivious to the way his older brother has eyes for you.

both of you are very good listeners and you often have movie nights where you just rant to each other about whatever is happening in your lives. those movie nights turn into long face times when luke goes to the nhl.

because luke knows you so well , it becomes harder and harder to keep your feelings for his oldest brother a secret, especially when you and quinn start sneaking around behind his back :\

꒰੭ you and jack ᭪

you and jack have a very open and honest friendship. it’s very no-filter and both of you have no issue giving it to the other one straight.

unlike your and luke’s friendship where you’ll rant about your issues and you and luke will discuss and come up with solutions together , you and jack just call each other out on your bullshit, and tell each other to get it together.

jack also sees right through you and quinn and has no problem teasing both of you about it. he’ll constantly make comments that has you burning your face in a pillow out of embarrassment, quinn giving him death glares and luke just crinkling his nose in confusion.

jack is more your big brother than he is a friend. and he has no problem giving you the tough brother love as we’ve established. but he really does adore you like his little sister and he always has your back whenever you need it.

you and jack are kind of a handful together. you’re similar in a lot of ways and that means you have a lot of fun together. you’re the kind of duo who will playfully sabotage one another just bc you’re both extremely competitive.

while jack doesn’t have the same over protective streak that luke has, he does keep an eye on things when it comes to you. while luke is ‘don’t do this, it’s a bad idea and it’s gonna blow up in your face’ type of protective, jack is the ‘do what you’re gonna do, i’ll be there if something goes wrong’ although he’s not gonna be happy about it.

jack always introduces you as his little sister, never offering an explanation when people look at him in confusion because to him, that’s simply just what you are.

꒰੭ you and trevor ᭪

you and trevor really are partners in crime and you get up to the silliest things together. could be spontaneous water balloon fights at the lake house or him telling the people at the movie theatre that you’re pregnant cause he wants to sneak snacks in, you’re just always in on a joke together. trevor knows no matter what insane plan he’s cooking, he can convince you to join him, and he loves that about you.

you and trevor do this thing ; secret for a secret. he gives you a secret and you give him one and you’re both not allowed to bring it up again unless the other person wants to talk about it. he was the first one you told about your crush on quinn.

you and trevor constantly play wingman and woman for each other whenever you guys go out to bars.

much like jack, trevor doesn’t have much of a filter, and he’s not afraid to tell you when you’re being ridiculous about something

both of you are the life of the party and wherever you do, everyone else knows it’s gonna be a good time. (you, trevor and jack together? who needs anyone else)

trevor is so good at seemingly not caring what other people think and he definitely passes that on to friends closest to him. (you/jack) he builds your confidences soo much.

you’re one of few people trevor knows he can 100% be himself; and you won’t judge him for it.

the best therapy with trevor isn’t talking—it’s just being with him. his presence is just infectious. whether it’s playing video games, watching movies for hours, or simply throwing paper airplanes around the living room, trevor has this way of distracting you from your worries without even trying. he’s the kind of friend who just gets it and lets you be

trevor is also a shameless flirt and can’t help but harmlessly flirt with you every now and then. hey! you can’t blame him, you’re funny, smart, freaking gorgeous, if the guy thought for one second you were actually interested, and he was the kinda guy who could commit, he’d go for it ^_^

꒰੭ you and quinn ᭪

even before the two of you got together a lot of your interactions were filled with small little touches. a hand on the waist as he moves past you, a hand on your thigh as he leans over you on the boat to do something. small touches that would leave a thousand butterflies in your stomach; and quinn’s palms clammy

you’ve always had a bit of a childhood crush on quinn, and that crush only grew as he moved away and you went to michigan a few years later. your childhood crush transforming into more serious feelings with every summer he comes home

whenever quinn feels jealous/upset about seeing you with other guys , he always chalks it up to feeling overprotective because you’re luke’s bestfriend but deep down he knows it’s more than that.

and everyone knows that you’re close to the hughes family but whenever someone asks quinn what you are to him he can’t really seem to find the words. it’s always some version of “she’s special to my family” or “my little brothers best friend”. either way it’s never “she’s this to me” and that’s lead you to believe that you really are nothing more than his little brother’s best friend to quinn even if that’s not really how he feels about you

after the two of you get together, everyone sees that you’re perfect for one another and can’t imagine either of you with anyone else

both of you are so supportive of each other. you never miss the opportunity to celebrate each other no matter how small the success. whether it’s you finishing a big project at work, or quinn scoring a goal, you just love seeing each other succeed.

you guys are so the “I can do it” and “I know you can, but I want to couple”

while you and quinn might not seem as close as the other guys, you guys did still grow up together and you have your own little friendship and rituals. you and quinn will send each other ten photos at the end of every week to catch each other up on what you did that week. and sometimes neither of you respond or text about anything else. it’ll just be those ten pictures, but neither of you have ever skipped a week since it started.

quinn is just as protective of you as luke and jack, if not more so. (definitely more so)

everyone always teases quinn about you. telling him how you have a crush on him. and you’re his little soft spot, but he always just brushes it off, even if he knows there’s some truth to it.

whenever quinn is having a rough week, he’ll call you just to hear your voice. and he’ll automatically feel better. and whenever you do the same, he always has flowers and desert delivered afterwards.

note: just a little reminder again that you take what you want from this, and leave what you don’t. it’s not gonna play a huge role in the au and you can read all writing pieces as independent little stand alone pieces. this is just to add enrichment to the plot, or characters and dynamics if you wish to <33

[nose-rice]

OH MY GOD YES. YES YES YES. I mentioned this in my og post but with the whole Nuru being raised differently, I mainly focused on her being a girl and royalty. But being a black girl also plays a huge roll with the whole "you're either the mom friend, or sassy". I've seen her portrayed as straight up mean before which is personally infuriating to me.

And with Yong!! Like you said he's a pre-teen! While I certainly wasn't matured, I wasn't thinking surface level thoughts. You start to overthink, find yourself, and your rose-tinted glasses start to fade just the tiniest bit. He's more than just "wow.. ypu guys seem really sad," or "wow! I'm so happy my fireworks worked!" And him being the fat asian kid leads is also troubling like you said. He's never taken seriously beyond the surface level "I don't wanna bother you guys" It's just really sad to me because I see so much of myself in Nuru, and I absolutely ADORE Yong and his absolutely vibrant personality. I feel like he holds immense power when it comes to shifting the tone of the story since he's the main source of optimism in the group, which could also set up a character arc that deeper than one short little moment of introspection.

Also this is a more personal thing but as a mixed poc, I am STARVING for literally any fun cool story I love with MAIN poc characters with complex thoughts and arcs. And I mean the MAIN. STARS. I'm a little tired of seeing the white lead with their poc friends that serve them in every way, and if we're LUCKY, perhaps a poc love intrest, which we didn't get here lol. Ofc I still love them. I just have been craving more diverse characters that can be seen in a complex light, which is what started my whole Nuru rant (i love Nuru soso much)

And i do agree that part of it is the way the story was set up fundamentally, with there being almost no info on Nuru and Yong, and being centered more on the main white couple. But I think it's great that it was just a first draft, and Anna and Kay have said they enjoy seeing different interpretations and chages. It's just unfortunate that most people tend to grasp onto what we're given a little too much, and not exploring so many possible concepts. The whole point I feel was that it was an idea thrown out there to whoever wants to add on to it or simply just enjoy what's already there, but the fandom pretty heavily tilts toward the "enjoy what's given" side.

Not to mention DONELLA AND ULLA?? EVEN CYRUS!! I personally am biased towards Donella but I feel a lot of the things with her can be said for Ulla too. I feel that a lot of the time they serve as plot devices for Varian and Hugo respectively. Obviously they're all very important to eachother, but I wanna see more of THEM. Just Ulla. Just Donella!! There are some good fanworks and art out there that do dive deeper into them, at least a big chunk more than Nuru and Yong which is a little sad. But I feel like I never see any fanworks that focus on their backstory aside from the library and "sons". What about THEIR parents, where they grew up? Their little quirks and their cultures? I especially find the way some Donella redemptions feel half hazardly taped on for the plot infuriating because to get to her state, you have to be pretty set in you beliefs!!

And to be fair Cyrus is very much less involved as he is Don's "side kick" sort of? Bodyguard? It's up to interpretation. But I really like seeing people giving him a bigger role in stories. Like. PLEASE. This is more just me asking for things I personally wanna see but I sorta wanna see a found family dynamic between Cyrus, Hugo, and Donella. The "villain trio". I think it would be super fun! Love seeing people rant about this stuff because I never see it talked about!!

Guys I NEED to rant about my thoughts on Nuru because i love her <3 ramblings ahead

Like I feel like in almost every fic i read, she's just like, a side character that's there to make whitty remarks to Hugo and be the levelheaded one. If she has an insecurity or problem it's usually pretty surface level and solved quickly, or only mentioned once or twice. I think there are SO many aspects of her character that are so cool.

Okay first, I think we sometimes forget that she's a nerd just like the rest of the gang. Yes, on the outside she's definetly the most 'normal' one, but I think we should concider the fact that she's the only girl in the group, and she's literal royalty. She was raised with a completely different set of standards than the other three. I don’t think I've really ever seen anyone cover that. I feel like she would get called "mature for her age" when she's only 15/16, and almost always gets critisism when she talks back with her own ideas (like her concerns about the meteor shows for example). I feel like out on her journey, she would finally get the freedom to just be herself, and be a kid and be able to rant on about her intrests with the rest of the group. It could be a struggle at first, but it would be awesome to see her getting more comfortable with the group the longer they spend together! Nerds encouraging nerdy rants lol

Since she is a kingdom figurehead, you could also argue that she always has a lot on her hands (especially since she's very proactive when it comes to science and solving problems). This could bring up a need to be productive, or always feeling like she needs to make the right decision, even for the littlest things.

I also feel like a lot of the time she's potrayed as the "right" one, who is 100% right when it comes to stuff like arguing with Hugo. Since they're opposites when it comes to class, they often are compared through that lense. I think it's cool just having Nuru tell Hugo off for judging a book by its cover, but I feel like they have a lot more in common than they realize. I think it would be interesting to see Nuru judging a book by its cover too. Maybe not to the degree that Hugo does, but I feel like calling out both their judging would not only call out character flaws, but it also enforces that even though they hate eachother and would never want to be like the other, they have a lot of the same flaws.

Also, being sheltered in a palace her whole life, I think she might think kind of black and white sometimes, and while she knows when people are just being mean as an act, she might struggle when it comes to people like reformed criminals.

Maybe she's able to be meaner to Hugo because she justifies it by telling herself he's criminal, and therefore bad, possibly glossing over the reasons he might be like that (maybe it crosses her mind, but she tells herself it's not a good enough reason, because stealing is still stealing, and he literally steals EVERYTHING. Even little trinkets and stuff he definitely doesn't need!). When they find out about Varian's criminal history, maybe she reexamines her views on morality and how she used to see people, because by her standards, Varian is a 'bad guy' who's caused harm to SO many people, but he's also the kind, caring, helpful friend that she's been traveling with who would never willingly hurt anyone.

Moving on to Amber x Nuru, I honestly never find myself liking the ship because Amber isn't developed enough which is fine. I don't think every character has to be a magnificent work of art. Side characters are side characters, but their romance is usually written like: "wow that girl is cute! I have a crush now!" Which is cool, but then that's about as far as it gets, then timeskip! Or offscreen they're a couple now. I know it's a side couple so it won't have as much devlopment as something like Varigo, but I never really see their dynamic play out in different situations. Like I don't know how to explain it, but it feels like they solely exist to be a couple? Amber sometimes just feels like an extention of Nuru, and their relationship feels surface level a lot of the time.

I feel like too often she's just watered down to the nice, smart, grounded friend, and I don't know I just think there’s so much more to explore with her. She’s not just some side character. She's literally part of the main cast! Even in fanart I feel like she doesn't really get a lot of stuff besides funny art and just like, pictures meant to look pretty. Unlike something you get a lot with characters like Varian or Hugo.

And honestly I get it. Some characters you just don't take an intrest in. I know I find Varian, Hugo, and Nuru more relatable than I find Yong, but I feel like part of that is developing their characters rather than just seeing them on a surface level. Ofc there are exceptions and there are some stories that dive deeper into Nuru's character out there! I just happen to see this A LOT.

Wow i said "surface level" a lot didn't I 😭😭

Anyway thank you for reading my rant i wanna know what you guys think!!

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 7

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 3,724 of 19,250

Start | Prev

AO3 Link

The festivities start before the sun sets. I watch as it sinks below the horizon, a fat red apple amongst the crooked charred tops of green houses and shops. Its dying light falls gently on the shoulders of ladies and gentlemen as they arrive, like a glowing kiss of welcome as strokes of real gold, gold that could be minted, bathe their cheeks and laughter-filled smiles. They arrive in pairs, by themselves, in whole parties that tumble out of stuffed carriages. I watch from the window of my room, having already been done up for an hour at that point. I have dragged the vanity stool over to the window so that I can watch better. Anything to pass the time as I wait for the inevitable final guest of the party: myself.

I have no desire or intent to go down to the feast because I knew that he would be there: the Wizard. Every stroke of the makeup brushes this afternoon felt like porcupine bristles being dragged across the skin of my cheeks, eyelids, and lips. The lips had stung the worst, right in the spot where he had touched his thumb. It was embarrassing really, the way I fell for it all. Emily didn't know anything about what had happened in the throne room, but her words from weeks ago echoed in my head as she wound locks of my hair around the hot iron. You're not the first dummy to try and sleep her way to head maid. The fact that I wasn't the first one was what was eating at me. Was this the kind of treatment that they got? How many had there been before me?

I shake my head at that. No, not before me. I am not a part of any line of women who would sleep with the Wizard, and I do not want to be any part of that line. I'm sure he has needs that are natural to his human body, just the same as he needs to bathe or dress or sleep, but I refuse to think of him like that. It feels disrespectful to even think that he could be so carnally biased that sleeping with him would earn you a higher rank and station, rather than merit.

The thought of him brushing my lips stings me again and I wince, getting up from the window and throwing myself on the bed. There is something about watching the guests arrive that is causing my mind to lose itself, fixating on... I grit my teeth as I push my face into the pillow, not even trying to protect the curls Emily had set or the makeup that had been painted. The cotton pillow is soft against my made-up face and when I try to breathe in, my lungs are confused by the lack of oxygen. Good. If I knock myself out maybe I'll get out of the whole thing altogether.

There is a knock at the door and I dig my claws into the comforter. It's only been a few minutes since Emily left the room and already someone is coming to bother me. I breathe in the pillow quicker, hoping to speed up the process. There's the sound of the door opening and then an unexpected voice.

"You planning to fall through the floor to get to the party?" Bruno says. He bats at my shoe. "C'mon. He wants you downstairs."

What? So he can embarrass me? It was one thing when we were in the darkness of the control room, or even teasing remarks in front of Humak, but to do it in front of hundreds of strangers? "I'm not going," I muffle into the pillow.

"I don't know what you said, but you'd better get up before I make you," he says.

I turn my head just enough and find myself involuntarily sucking in clean air. "I said 'I'm not going', okay? You can't make me."

"For Oz's sake," he says, and then he yanks me by the ankle as I squeak in protest. "This is the hill you're going to die on? A stupid party is worth your sister's life?" He yanks me once more and I tumble to the floor, the wind going out of me in a yelp.

"No! I'll run away!" I say, scrambling to my feet. I say this, despite never having thought about it before or knowing how I would survive outside of the Emerald City with no money and a second mouth to feed. I don’t even know how I would get out of the palace without a guard stopping me.

"You look fine," he says. "Now, let's go."

"No," I say.

"What the hell is wrong with you?” he says “You see a ghost or something? There's food downstairs and drinks and dancing.” Dancing. The thought of the Wizard's hands on me again, the knowledge that I'd fall for it again like an idiot... The Wizard had magic in more ways than one.

"I don't want to dance," I say, "...with strangers, that is. Have you seen the Arjiki guards? They're frightening." They aren't, but it's better than confessing my relational problems to no-nonsense Bruno. What would he know of... whatever the Wizard and I were?

"Well, then you can dance with me then," he says.

I blink, having never considered the possibility before. The party would be better than hiding in my room upstairs because I would have an excuse to not see the Wizard. How could he dance with me if I filled my entire dance card with other people? Up here I ran the risk of him slipping away from the party to come torment me in private. "You mean it?" I ask. Bruno simply offers his arm, and I take it.

We take our time walking down to the Grand Ballroom. I ask Bruno how Leo is doing. Apparently, he got in trouble at school the other day for beating a kid up on the playground. I ask him if the kid deserved it and he laughs, asking me about Fileah instead. There's nothing new to report back besides telling him I'm trying to be on my best behavior so I can see her again. We don't talk about the riot. I hope Fileah has stopped talking about it by herself as I hadn't had the chance to tell her to. The Wizard has been keeping me busy with etiquette assignments and other stupid tasks that seem to take up the whole day past when visiting hours are over. As we enter the Grand Ballroom, I can feel the puzzle piece of the confusing social training click into place and realize that he had this party planned for a while and was truly planning to surprise me.

Tulle and taffeta skim across the floor in coiling circles as partners guide them along, sometimes breaking off and weaving in and out of the ladies and gentlemen, all the while laughing. Toward the front of the room parallel to the wall, and on the dais there are tables laden with food. As we draw closer I can see suckling pigs that have been roasted until bronzed, the skin pulled so tight that you could taste the way it would crackle in your mouth without ever sinking your teeth into it. There are turkeys that have been herbed and stuffed and are twice the size of the biggest one I've ever seen. In between the meats are bowls so big that you would have to carry them with both arms filled with buttered turnips, roasted brussel sprouts, sugared beets, whipped and airy potatoes, and several others that I ignore once I see the towers of desserts. The guests who are not dizzying themselves with merriment have taken seats along these tables, filling their plates with any and all of the offerings.

The table on the dais is packed. Fiyero, Humak, and some of their guards that I had seen earlier are seated on the left, a few strangers are seated on the right, and in dead-center there’s him. The Wizard's lips are pressed together in a hard line, goblet draped lazily in hand, and an empty seat beside him. His eyes are scanning the room, and I know he is looking for me.

"This was a mistake," I say, pressing against Bruno to try and get past him.

"I'll be here and ready to dance with you when it's time," he says reassuringly. He takes my wrist which now has a dance card attached to it. Someone must have slipped it on me while I was salivating over the food. Quickly, he pencils his name into two or three slots – I'm not sure how many as I'm watching the Wizard stare at me, not once breaking the gaze – and then he guides me up to the dais. "I'll come get you when it's time."

I climb the stairs on the right side of the dais, trying to find a seat that hasn't been taken already. Unfortunately, all of the seats at the table are labeled with place cards, little bits of cream cardstock that have been etched in curling script with names and titles. I try to keep my eyes on the whirling bodies of the dance floor and away from the Wizard's tiger-like gaze. The dancers seem to have moved onto a reel, two great ovals smashed together as couples take turns dancing down the aisle of refined and all-green and gold clothing. I watch intently, even as I take my seat next to him, even as I can smell the spiced cloud of his cologne, even as I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my face to make it so hot that I wonder if I have a fever and might be excused from the party to undisturbed bed rest.

We sit like this for an eternity, letting the full orchestra swallow up our unsaid words, until a familiar voice asks, "Are you a big dancer?" It's Fiyero, goblet in hand, and much more fashionably dressed than the last time I saw him, a satin blue military jacket perfectly accompanying his blinding smile and the twinkle in his eyes.

I have to ask him to repeat himself, feigning that the orchestra is too loud to hear him. He does, and I swear I could go down to the Unionist chapel right now and thank the Unnamed God for getting me away from the man sitting next to me. "Oh yes!" I say. "I love dancing. I don't get to do it much, so I'm really trying to take it all in."

Prince Fiyero laughs at that. "Wouldn't it be better to take it in on the dance floor?" He offers me a hand, and I don't have to think twice before taking it.

I don't have to imagine that Fiyero is a heartbreaker back in Winkie Country. I can feel my own butterflies flap their wings in curiosity at how graceful and perfectly gentlemanlike he is: the way his hand warmly guides me by the waist, the way he laughs at anything that I say and always has the perfect banter ready to shoot back. Even his eyes, his hair, and his teeth are perfectly perfect, and yet I am still not completely sold. Stopping me from falling for him fully is almost equally the shock that a prince has asked me to dance with him when I had been sharing a bed for warmth and stealing ribbons weeks ago, and the fact that I can still feel the Wizard's eyes on me.

I look to the dais, and even though we are a good hundred feet away, I can see the anger seeping from him, how Humak who was sitting to his right looks at him nervously as if the man in the satin green tuxedo were going to explode and kill him in the process. Good, I think. It was time for him to get a taste of his own medicine. It wouldn't hurt him to see me dancing with the enemy. It's just a little harmless fun so maybe he'd stop trying to mess with my head and toy with me.

I'm not familiar with the dance that plays next, but Fiyero is such an excellent partner that everyone who looks at us would think I had known it my whole life. He jokes with me about how the party hadn't really started until I showed up and I almost believe him. By the end of it, I have a stitch in my side from all of the dancing and the laughing. I feel as if I could down an entire bottle of fizzy wine the way I'm out of breath and giddy to go again. I don't need the wine as I feel a strange warmth spreading within me. Looking at Fiyero, I'm more than glad he came to the Emerald City, and not just glad that he got me away from the Wizard.

"Come on! Come on!" a man in spectacles that pinch his pupils into reptilian slits shouts. "Let's play a game of Blind Man's Buff!"

This sends the crowd into a tizzy of excitement, young women shrieking with delight and pushing each other, the gentlemen gathering closer to the bespectacled man.

"Blind Man's Buff?" I say, grabbing Fiyero's arm. "What is it?"

Fiyero's grin spreads wide in excitement and he pulls me into the throng of those who have had enough of dancing. The man in the lizard glasses is now waving a white scarf as if it were a flag of surrender as the mob pushes in.

"Who shall be our Blind Man?" Lizard Eyes asks.

Fiyero pulls me forward and pushes me to the front. "Take her!" he shouts, waving my hand above my head. "She's a virgin!"

"A virgin!?" Lizard Eyes exclaims.

I'm short-circuiting over them discussing whether I've slept with anyone before when Fiyero whispers in my ear, "It just means you've never played before, love." The butterflies are now beating their wings in earnest.

"Yes! Yes!" Lizard Eyes says. "It will be a special Lurlinemas treat, then. A real game to remember!" Quickly, Lizard Eyes blindfolds me, the world going dark as the soft and warm cashmere is wrapped snuggly around my eyes. Despite the scarf being white, there is still a green light that comes through, and I realize just how truly green the entire palace and city are if even a thick scarf can't block the verdant glow. "Should we make it a special game?" the voice of Lizard Eyes says.

"Lover's fate!" Fiyero shouts out.

"What's that?" I try to ask Lizard Eyes. However, I can't see him, and my guess as to where he is remains in the last place I saw him. I reach out to my right and touch nothing but air. This earns a laugh from the crowd.

"Lover's fate!" people agree, some even starting a chant.

"Lover's fate it will be!" Lizard Eyes says. He must have moved back behind me, I realize, turning in that direction. "You will have to search the room looking for people. Once you grab someone, you must identify them." He giggles.

"Sounds easy," I say. I hope I catch Fiyero, I think. He's familiar enough and I wouldn't mind an excuse to touch that perfect face of his.

"Well, it would be, except you can't use your hands," Lizard Eyes says. "You'll have to kiss them to figure it out."

I want to rip off the scarf and go hide under one of the banquet tables when Lizard Eyes grabs me by the shoulders and starts spinning me around and around until I'm so dizzy that I want to lay on the floor until my head comes back to normal. Even if I lay there all evening, it would never stop the spinning on account of how many strangers there were and that I would have to kiss one of them. The thought makes my stomach go cold, so I know that I have to find Fiyero. Maybe I’ll be glad that I came to the party after all. Maybe...

The mob that had gathered around Lizard Eyes is now quickly dispersing and reeling back in. Their whoops and hollers are growing distant and then occasionally they bump past me in taunt, but I don’t care. Frankly, there are too many of them, and I'm trying to pick out Fiyero's voice. The slight Winkie accent is what I'm looking for, the way it sparkles. I think I hear him 10 feet diagonally to the right of me. I go chasing after it and can hear his laugh as I fall through the air in my attempt to catch him.

"If I had known you wanted to kiss me that bad," he says, "we could have skipped the dancing."

I'm following his voice once again, trying to sneak up on him. "Okay," I say. "So then get over here." Another snatch and a miss.

"Nuh-uh," he says. "I'm undefeated in this game. You can kiss me afterward if you really want to."

I make a dash for him and miss the grab again. I stomp my foot, willing him to hold still.

"You know, you're supposed to chase other people too," he says. Another missed grab.

"Well nobody told me that," I retort back. I fake going after other people, trying to keep his location in mind. When I'm satisfied with enough squeals and laughs, I taunt him again. "Maybe you're undefeated because you're scared."

"I'm not scared," he says. 8 feet to my left. I reach for the rustle of a skirt that I hear closest to me, pretending to chase it as I make a semicircle to cut him off. I shoot my hand out and grab hold of an arm clad in a soft satin. The blue and gold dress military jacket.

"Too easy," I say with a smirk. The room has gone silent and I can't stop grinning at the thought of the Arjiki prince kissing the Wizard’s special guest. Serve’s him right. "Kiss me."

His fingertips are warm as his hands cradle my face. The room is still holding its breath as I feel just the brush of his lips against my own.

"You call that a kiss?" I whisper. "Kiss me."

His lips crush mine openly, an invitation. I let my tongue slide against his lower lip as his tongue slips against mine and into my mouth, pressing my tongue back into submission. It's everything I can do to not fall into his arms and let him carry me out of the party. He was certainly better than any schoolyard kisses and there was a promise of domination in the way his tongue danced with mine that sent a thrill up my spine.

When he pulls away, his name is already on my lips as I tear the scarf off. I don't make it past the first syllable.

It's him. There's a look of hurt in his eyes and I can't help but feel like an idiot. I was so wrapped up in the idea of kissing Fiyero that I couldn't even recognize the same small scars that had touched my hands earlier that day or the way his mustache and goatee had scratched the delicate skin of my lips.

So many things are crashing and burying me like an avalanche: the way he's looking at me, the way the room is still silent and staring at us, the way Fiyero has a shit-eating grin and I can tell he's holding in a laugh, the way I liked it and still want more. This last part is what sends me running from the room and out into the winding halls of the Emerald Palace.

I need to get away from him, to think this out. How was I ever going to face him again? I remember telling Bruno about how I would run away, and now I'm seriously considering it. How much could a train ticket possibly cost? Fileah and I could probably run away and live in the jungle off of the fruits of the forest until we found somewhere nice in Munchkinland to house us. Maybe Bruno had some family outside of the Emerald City that could hide us.

I burst through the hallway and find myself back in the throne room. Sweet Oz, anywhere but here. The face is well hidden amongst the vines again. I consider going up into it to cry – it'd probably be the last place he'd expect to find me – when I hear a queer wooden sound. It sounds like a penny made of wood is spinning around and around before it falls flat. Then the crash happens, followed by cursing.

I run over to the source of the commotion to see Humak Tigelaar with a funny-looking object in his hands.

"Humak," I say through a tear-constricted throat, "you're missing the party."

Humak laughs nervously at this, agreeing with me. It is as he's trying to slip away that I realize what he's holding.

"The Grimmerie," I breathe.

Humak's smile drops and instantaneously he's bolting into the hallways.

All I wanted to do was to be left alone, to just go somewhere where no one would find me while I tried to sort out what would be best for me, what would be best for Fileah. No, in truth, it was just what would be best for me. If I had really been selfless I would have played whatever part he had set for me and done it happily. Ribbons were a fraction of his generosity, and she could have had anything in the world if I had just played the stupid part.

I feel like Lizard Eyes has spun me around and around for a second time as the machine that is Oz the Great and Terrible seems to be floating up with its ropes towards the ceiling, the ceiling falling to the floor. I stumble, feeling for any sort of familiarity or guidepost in what to do, and I keep stumbling, footstep after footstep until I reach the entrance to the Officer's wing.

My voice sounds a thousand yards away as I yell for help.

[ilikekidsshows]

I've seen people said Adrien doesn't have motivation to be a hero but Marinette does, which is weird because I feel like it's Marinette who doesn't have a motivation to be hero beyond "people listen to Ladybug". Her lack of motivation is what confused me because as a protagonist, she's inevitably become a role model for the young audience and I find nothing about her is likeable, even more so after she become a guardian. It's as if being a guardian inflate her ego and she forgot that everyone else is a human with feelings, not just a pawn or a doll for her to play and ordered around.

Recently I found out a website that contain the concept plot and it confused me more because I feel like concept Marinette is a more grounded character than she is in the show.

Marinette's goal isn't just to be Adrien/Felix's girlfriend but she also need to collect the kwamis that she accidentally releases and she become a guardian not because of luck or favoritism like how it is in the show, it's because her grandfather is the guardian. Adrien/Felix doesn't even become Chat Noir because he's chosen by the guardian, it's Plagg who chose him. It's actually much better than the whole "I choose you but also I'm not going to do anything with you" that Fu pulls in the show.

i don't understand why the higher up/the sponsor reject this plot because I think this much better than whatever we have now. If they have a problem with Chat Noir being an anti-hero, then why do they accept Marinette being written like one while also hailing her as a hero?

---

“Adrien isn't motivated to be a hero” he actually likes being a hero, unlike our role model protagonist, who’d rather do anything than be Ladybug even when she's being lauded for her heroic deeds. Is this based on Adrien trying to quit when Fu or Marinette is making his job needlessly more difficult to do? Because, like, that's the only thing that he seems to dislike about being a hero, which, like, makes Marinette an even worse hero. She’s so bad at her job, she makes otherwise eager heroes lose their motivation.

I’m gonna be very honest here; Marinette becoming Ladybug because she accidentally released a bunch of magical creatures and Adrien/Félix being more of an anti-hero rival than a full-on ally would have been copied straight from Cardcaptor Sakura’s starting setup. Like, I’m not surprised that even the rejected ideas for Miraculous are copied from other properties, but it just proves that regardless of any other variables, Astruc’s creation was always going to be highly derivative. Regardless, I do feel that Fu being her grandfather instead of a stranger would have gone a long way in justifying Marinette’s special treatment both in-universe and to the audience, but that’s probably why it was rejected.

Like, we can mock the fact that Marinette isn’t actually within spitting distance of being a “normal girl with a normal life” all we like, but that doesn’t change the fact that, from a purely on-paper angle, she is pretty average. She’s a middle-schooler with pretty average hobbies who deals with normal teen problems like bullies and a crush on a boy she doesn’t know how to deal with. There’s a reason it’s the opening line for the show’s opening. It's marketable. A special chosen one from the start wouldn’t have been as marketable in the same way. Especially when we take into account how hypersensitive Astruc is to Marinette being less liked than he’d want. He’d do whatever he can think of to make sure Marinette isn’t immediately judged a “Mary Sue”.

The thing with executives is that they don't watch the shows they fund. They read the pitch, synopses, and maybe the scripts if they can find the time. And even then, they might not want to put in the money to get a script revised even if they paid enough attention to tell it was dogshit. They wouldn't be interested as long as the different Miraculous bedsheets and shampoos keep selling and as long as the show isn’t too gay to sell to other countries. Like, the show bible that Gloob leaked? The one full of inaccuracies because it was outdated? That was what the executives were most likely given when the retool went into development. In addition, corporate oversight on the show has actually decreased the longer it’s gone on, because the show’s proven itself to be a success. I’m pretty sure the higher-ups were not asked: “hey, is it okay if we make Marinette an entitled jerk who gets validated at every turn while she starts treating people worse and worse?” I’m pretty sure no one okayed Marinette’s “villain arc”, it was just allowed to pass because it didn’t make the show less marketable.

That’s the thing with any property that becomes “too big to fail”. Less oversight means less quality control. It’s like one anonymous Gamefreak employee said about making Pokémon games: “It’ll sell anyway, so it doesn’t matter if it’s bad.”

[kamechan98]

Octavia is a seventeen year old girl who has little to no connection to the outside world that we know of. Stolas is the one positive relationship she has and that has become more and more strained over the years and especially since he slept with Blitzø that first time. And so she's been caught in the middle of her parents' drama, her mother's abuse hitting a new peak, her father finally standing up for himself which changes the dynamic as well, her mother moving out and also trying to pursue a relationship with Blitzø, which definately is a lot to deal with for anyone, especially a kid.

But, let's face it, Octavia does come across as pretty self-absorbed in a lot of ways. Which I do not blame her for at all, btw, we are all self-absorbed when we're young and especially in this awkward teen years. And dealing with a divorce is going to be rough on the kids, it's common for kids to feel like their parents not loving each other and staying together is somehow their fault.

But with that said, that immediate jump from "my dad's taking anti-depressants" to "is it MY fault that he needed these? Was he only staying with us and keeping himself miserable because of me?" Which, while mostly true, is a bit of a oversimplification of the situation. Yes, Stolas stayed with Stella and put up with her abuse so Octavia could have a normal, happy life, but if he had not met up with Blitzø again, him wanting a divorce and finally standing up for himself probably wouldn't have happened. Blitzø made him realize that he could choose for himself and find happiness, but if he hadn't, he'd probably would have just stayed in that relationship until he died if it meant keeping Octavia happy. And Stolas is a big People Pleaser so he probably wouldn't have rocked the boat too much if he hadn't found that strength in Blitzø.

People in bad, unhappy or abusive relationships have often been convinced that things can't get better, that this is all you're gonna get so it's better than nothing, and part of escaping is learning that things can indeed get better. And once you realize that, it's very hard being okay in those bad relationships or situations, which is shown as Stolas stands up to Stella, goes through with the divorce and tries to pursue his own happiness.

But back to Octavia, this of course is hard for her as her whole life and world is crumbling around her and as Stolas is her only positive relationship, she's terrified of losing him. As well as, while her life may not have been 100% happy or good, it was one she was used to and grew to either love or tolerate. And since Stolas is the one who pulled the plug on it, it is easy to point the finger at him saying he ruined everything. Kind of like how it's easy to blame anyone who blows the whistle for disrupting the status quo that everyone has grown used to because now they have to settle to something new, rather than happy someone finally did something to try and fix a problem and in the long run could make things better.

And since teenagers are a bit self-absorbed and dramatic, it makes sense for her to feel like Stolas has ruined her life and that he chose Blitzø over her, and not as Stolas trying to find a healthy relationship with someone else that can make him happy in ways she can't. That it isn't as black-and-white as she makes it out to be, that loving Blitzø doesn't make him love her any less or him being miserable and needing anti-depressants is because of her and him taking the first out of their family that he could find because he was just that unhappy. That in her mind it makes sense that Stolas just stayed with her because of obligation and the second he could leave her and Stella behind for Blitzø and can't see the whole picture yet.

That Stolas isn't choosing Blitzø over her, but rather choosing Blitzø over Stella and her abuse. That Blitzø isn't trying to steal her dad from her but maybe give her a happier, healthier family dynamic than the one she has. Right now she can't see thatm she only sees her father choosing to die for his affair partner and was willing to leave her alone with her mother. And more or less saying he should have let Blitzø die so Stolas wouldnt' have left her behind. Which is unfair and cruel to say, especially to someone who's already depressed and broken, but I'm willing to bet you money that if someone sat her down and had a calm, gentle conversation with her about it, asking if she really thinks her father should have let Blitzø die, she'd probably say no, if a bit reluctantly. But these are the kind of emotions you go through during tough times and we all say things we don't mean when we're upset, hurt and angry but once we start unpacking them we're able to deal with them better and see them in black and white.

After all, hurt people hurt people

And the sad thing is, all it would take is one long, probably painful but long overdue conversation between Stolas and Octavia for her to understand, or at least understand his perspective better. Maybe not the whole thing, as she's right in the middle of abuse and growing up around it has made her grow used to it. It would probably help to talk to an outsider who's able to see the abuse for what it is. But once Octavia realizes this, sees how truly terrible and evil her mother is and how she tried to have him killed, she will turn on her, no doubt about that. And once she's also given some love and compassion from others, the way Stolas has started to, she will go through the same kind of journey her father is currently going through.

Both Stolas and Octavia have hurt each other and both have good reasons for why they did what they did or feel what they feel, but I 1000% believe they'll find their way back to each other.

As much as i can understand where Via is coming from, and her feelings are valid, she doesn’t see her dad as a living person outside of just being her father. And that isn’t right. It’s especially not right seeing just how many people feel absolutely no empathy for him.

“She was just a child having to endure all that!!” Okay, and how old was Stolas when he had to marry an abusive girl and have a kid of his own, exactly? At least he gave Via a chance to have a good childhood, he didn’t have one. He didn’t have anything except for his duties to carry out.

And while it’s heartbreaking that Via sees herself as an obligation, that’s literally what she was supposed to be. Though that doesn’t mean that was how he saw her. She was what saved him, what made him endure all the abuse, what kept him going.

But sometimes that’s not enough, he had NO ONE to confide in and couldn’t put his frustrations on his own kid (because he’s a good father, despite what some of you would like to believe, clearly you didn’t grow up with a parent trying to guilt you by traumadumping when you can barely understand it), so he also NEEDED the pills.

The thing is, i also had that mentality towards my mom for dealing with depression UNTIL i started experiencing it myself. Because it’s so hard to realize that your parents are also human beings, since they’re supposed to protect you, they’re supposed to have everything figured out, to be the shoulder you cry on.

But if i see another dumbass claim that he CHOSE to leave and made the wrong decision in Mastermind, i need you out of this fandom. The whole point of that was that he had no choice, was he supposed to throw away the man he fell in love with, his first friend, his first time that wasn’t for procreation, and the one who liberated him? Stolas is allowed to care for more than one person, and he deserves to be loved romantically by someone.

You’re being too harsh on Stolas because for whatever reason you hate an abuse victim finally having a say in how to live for once in their lives, adding on top of that the weird, underlying homophobia in some of your criticisms for him.

Also i have a bad taste in my mouth from Via only seemingly hating Stolas, despite having SEEN how shitty Stella is. Sure, she doesn’t know the full extent of the abuse, but she’s heard the yelling, she’s seen the throwing, the ridiculing, the insensitivity. And most likely that woman neglected Via as much as possible, because she also didn’t choose to have her, but unlike Stolas she didn’t give a fuck to take responsibility regardless. (Reminding you of the “You get up” comment from Loo Loo Land). This was all happening before the cheating, so that’s not an excuse for her behavior (not that the cheating was, but at least Via would have been able to reason with her reaction to it).

It’s a complicated situation and it’s so shitty to put all the blame on Stolas, he tried so much for his family, but it was never going to be enough, because he’s gay. I’m glad he got out of that marriage.

Honestly, had i been given all those responsibilities at his age in a loveless marriage, i would’ve gone insane. I wouldn’t have been kind to my child, the cause of my shit life. But he never saw her as a weight on his shoulders, he has so much love for Via.

[darkkitty1208]

So this post may be a little all over the place cos the brain is scrambled but i'm rereading the spinoff and got to this bit:

I love this scene because it's obvious that Reigen despite his often questionable decisions KNOWS when to draw the line and proves yet again he actually has a good moral compass. He may not always be honest but he has good intentions most of the time and always knows the right thing to do. He tricks people not to scare them but to "expel those fears".

Another thing I love is the little detail of Serizawa's reaction in the background. It can literally be interpreted as either "Serizawa doesn't think this is a good idea but doesn't know how to express his opinion" or "Serizawa isn't opposed to the idea of keeping Tome around and doesn't want to scare her away" which. Ough *clutches chest* seripapa & tomedaughter my beloved.

Also it's interesting that it also implies that, for a moment, Serizawa genuinely thought Reigen was about to consider tricking another teen, but then immediately Reigen confirms that he wants to "have a proper talk with her", and this to me I think shows that Reigen has really learnt his lesson from Mob after that whole psychic tornado and destroying half the city lmao. Which is likely the reason why this happens later on:

AND!!!! HNGHH!!! IT'S JUST!!! He doesn't. Want to lie anymore. He's seen the way keeping the truth from Mob for so long affected him, and he doesn't want to make the same mistake with Tome. Sure, that makes her disappointed and hurt and all (isn't that familiar?), and he probably expected that it'd successfully drive tome away from s&s, but isn't that a good thing? Isn't that what they planned to do? Keep Tome away from the dangers his job comes with? (Isn't that familiar?) But then Tome returns anyway. Because Tome admires and looks up to him for more than just his "psychic powers", and because she genuinely likes Reigen as a person. (ISN'T. THAT. FAMILIAR?)

That's also not mentioning the development Tome went through from the "everybody's a dull and boring goody goody and I'm too different to hang out with them" mentality to the "everybody has their quirks and differences and shouldn't be ashamed to share them" mentality.

The thing is that it's also the same development her friends go through, and isn't it brilliant that despite how easily they can just go with the usual "quirky different girl can't fit in" trope, they decided to go against that and show that Tome CAN make friends even with her unconventional interest, because everybody has an unconventional interest and that's okay to have. It goes with how MP100 as a series is a commentary against stereotypical manga tropes by extending it to the spinoff. There's just a level of awareness in the way it's written that isn't deluded by those stereotypes.

Anyway if you haven't read the spinoff already READ IT. IT'S SO GOOD.

[gloomysoup]

home is where you are

@steddiebingo prompts: hurt/comfort (main card) and home (christmas card)

rating: Teen+ | word count: 2400 | tags: omegaverse, alpha eddie, omega steve, mpreg, insecure steve harrington, hurt/comfort, fluff | ao3

Eddie came home from work to absolute chaos. Addie and Violet were sitting on the living room floor, arguing over whether to put the white lights or the colored lights on the Christmas tree, which he had put up the night before. Addie wanted white, but Violet wanted colored. Eddie was almost certain none of their lights from last year were even going to work, so they'd have to buy new ones anyway. James and Lucy were fighting over an orange crayon at the coffee table, two blank pieces of paper and a whole assortment of other colored crayons in front of them. Steve and their youngest, Grace, were nowhere to be seen, but Eddie could hear movement in the kitchen. Eddie quickly slipped his boots off at the door and swooped in to de-escalate all the arguing.

He started by grabbing a second, emergency, box of crayons from the cabinet that held the art supplies. He pulled out an orange one and handed it to Lucy, so she would stop trying to take the other one from her brother. Then he moved to the older two girls, squatting down in front of them and picking up two strings of lights.

“Why don't we put the lights away for now, my loves? They probably don't even work. I’ll take you both to the store this week and we can pick some new ones out together. How does that sound?”

They easily agreed, and Eddie was incredibly grateful that everything was solved quickly tonight. Once all of the pups were settled and occupied, not a single argument left to be had, Eddie moved to the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway to smile at what he found. Steve was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of boiling macaroni noodles with Grace on his hip. He was swaying back and forth, softly humming a lullaby as he did.

Eddie slid up behind him, leaning in with a hand on Steve’s other hip to kiss his cheek. “Evenin', beautiful,” he whispered. Steve smiled and turned his head to get a proper kiss.

“Hey, baby. How was work?” Steve asked after they had separated.

Grace was grinning, trying to scramble from Steve’s hold while saying, “Da!”

Eddie shrugged, taking Grace into his own arms. “Nothin’ new. Missed you, though. How was your day? Pups drive you too crazy?”

Steve hummed in consideration. “Hectic. Lots of arguments today. Oh, Lucy broke one of the nice glasses that Joyce got us. She was trying to be like Addie and Violet and help put the dishes away, but she dropped it and it shattered. Everyone was okay, though, and I’m pretty sure I got all the glass cleaned up.”

Eddie’s hand looped around further to rest on Steve’s swollen belly. “And how was the little one today? Not causing too much trouble, I hope?”

Steve huffed a small laugh. “Not letting me actually get anything done today.” He put down his spoon and leaned back into Eddie’s chest. “Every time I finally got the rest of the pups settled down enough to do something, I either had to pee or sit down for a little bit. By the time I was done, someone else needed something, and the cycle repeated.”

“That's okay,” Eddie murmured, nuzzling his nose against the shell of Steve’s ear and taking a deep breath of his scent. He always loved how much sweeter his mate smelled during pregnancy. It was one of his favorite parts of the experience. “I'll finish the chores for you after dinner. You just worry about relaxing.”

“Eddie, no,” Steve argued, moving to stir the pasta again. “You just worked a ten-hour shift. You shouldn't have to come home and do everything here too. I'll take care of it.”

“You will do no such thing.” Eddie adjusted his hold on Grace, who was snuggled against his chest after not seeing him since the night before. She had been the only one still asleep when Eddie left for work that morning. “You chased our little pack of hooligans around all day while growing a pup. You deserve to put your feet up and relax for the evening. I'll take care of everything else. Don't worry about anything.”

Steve glanced over his shoulder with a frown. “At least let me help. Then we can get everything done faster.”

Eddie smiled and kissed Steve’s cheek again. “Whatever makes you feel better, my love.”

Dinner in the Munson household that night was quite the affair, as it usually was with five kids under the age of eight. Afterwards, Eddie corralled all the pups upstairs for baths and pajamas while Steve cleaned up in the kitchen. By the time everyone was clean, clothed, and settled on the couch for one last movie before bedtime, Eddie was wrecked. He loved his children more than anything in his life (except maybe Steve), but they were exhausting. He had no idea how his mate did it all day long.

Finally, he started the movie and went to track down his superhero of a partner. It didn't take him long at all. Steve was in the laundry room, loading the washer to get one more in for the evening. Eddie came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his husband and kissing his cheek. He pulled Steve back into his chest and swayed gently. He reveled in the way Steve instantly sank into his hold, body going lax and a sigh of contentment leaving his lips.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Eddie whispered.

“Mmmm, tell me again?” Steve replied just as softly.

“I love you so so so much, my love.” Eddie gently tightened his arms around him. “You are an absolute wonder. I don't know how you deal with our little gremlins all day and not just completely lose your mind.”

Steve hummed, a soft smile on his lips. “They're not so bad. Most days. It helps that Addie, Violet, and James go to school five days a week.”

“A saint,” Eddie said, slowly releasing his hold on Steve to dramatically collapse to his knees in front of him. “I worship on my knees in your holy presence.” As Steve laughed, Eddie leaned forward with his hands on Steve’s sides to press a kiss to his belly. Their pup moved beneath his touch. Eddie would never get tired of the feeling. It always amazed him, just what Steve’s body was capable of, especially when it came to creating life.

“Come on, up off the floor,” Steve finally said, grabbing Eddie’s hand and starting to pull him up. The alpha went easily, rarely one to say no to his omega.

With the pups suitably distracted for at least a little bit longer, Steve and Eddie set about the quiet routine of getting evening chores done. They didn't speak much, just moved around each other in a comfortable silence. Eddie did the day’s dishes and wiped down the countertops while Steve folded laundry at the table. The movie in the living room was still going when Grace started getting fussy. It wasn't long before Violet was calling for them to make her stop.

“I'll get her,” Eddie said softly, not wanting to break the calming atmosphere in the kitchen. Steve nodded, still folding laundry, while Eddie headed for the living room.

Grace was pushing at Lucy when Eddie walked in, and Lucy was quickly losing patience with her little sister. Eddie picked Grace up, trying to remedy the situation, but that just caused a full blown tantrum. She kicked and screamed, fighting against Eddie and her own exhaustion. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. No matter how hard he tried to put out a calming scent to soothe her, it was all for naught. She just kept screaming and kicking and writhing. Steve quickly appeared in the doorway, looking a little worried. As soon as Grace saw him, she reached her arms out.

“Give her here,” he said gently, coming over to take the screaming toddler from Eddie’s arms. “I'll sit with her.”

Eddie nodded and passed her off to Steve, watching as Grace instantly began to calm down. He made sure Steve was comfortable on the couch with Grace curled into his body before leaving to finish cleaning up the kitchen and folding laundry. By the time he was done, the movie was over. All five of their pups were fast asleep on the couch. Grace was curled up on Steve’s lap, her head pillowed on his chest. Lucy was situated firmly in Steve’s side, while the older three were piled up and stretched out across the other cushions.

Eddie was extremely careful in his extraction. He took Addie and Violet upstairs to the room they shared first, then James to his room. When he came back, he slowly picked up Lucy and let her burrow into his neck while Steve carefully tried to stand up with Grace. It was a lot harder the further along this pregnancy got, but Steve was nothing if not determined. He never let anything slow him down; not even being nearly eight months pregnant. Again, superhero. Eddie was obsessed with him.

After a very long, very chaotic night, all of the pups were finally tucked away in their beds. Eddie and Steve could actually take a minute to breathe without someone needing something. As they did every night, once the children were tucked in and sound asleep, they curled up on the couch together with some random movie they'd seen a hundred times before. It was more for the noise and familiarity than the movie itself. Steve was tucked against Eddie’s side, his head resting where he could hear Eddie’s heartbeat, just like every night. Eddie held him close, breathing in Steve’s scent and letting himself finally relax for the first time all day. They both remained quiet for a while.

Something deep down in his gut was telling Eddie that something was wrong. Something was bothering Steve, festering in his mind. Before he got the chance to ask, Steve was opening his mouth to speak.

“Do you think we’re making a mistake?” he asked so softly, Eddie almost didn't catch it. If their house hadn't been so quiet, he might not have heard him.

“What do you mean?” Eddie tightened his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

Steve shrugged as best he could from under Eddie’s arm. “I just- Do you think all of this is just a big mistake?” Eddie’s heart shattered at the broken lilt to Steve’s voice, the tremble of his words. “Is having another baby a mistake?”

Eddie frowned, trying so hard to control his scent. “Of course not. What's wrong, baby? Where is this coming from?”

Steve sniffled a little, pressing his cheek a little more firmly into Eddie’s chest. “I don't know. I just- We already have five kids, Eddie. Our- our house isn't that nice. We don't really have a whole lot of extra money. And with Grace’s medical bills… maybe- maybe we should have just stopped after James, or Lucy. Maybe everyone was right, and this is all just a big mistake.”

Eddie shook his head, feeling the fabric of his t-shirt start to dampen. “Absolutely not,” he said. He pulled away, shifting so he could fully look at Steve. “Baby, this is not a mistake. I don't know who’s putting these ideas in your head, but they're wrong. So what if we don't have the nicest house in Hawkins? That's never mattered. Not to me, not to the pups. It's just a house, Stevie. And so what if we don't have all the money in the world? Our family has a roof over their heads, clothes on their bodies, and they never have to worry about going hungry. Our pups are loved. Why should anything else matter?”

Fat tears rolled down Steve’s cheeks. Eddie caught them with his thumbs as he cradled Steve’s face in his hands.

“I love you, Steve Munson,” he continued, unable to stop now that he was on a roll. “I love you, and I love our pups, and I love our life. I don't care about money, or our house. All I care about is our family. Our five little pups, who bring me so much joy every single day. Sweet little Sophia, who is going to be so loved, just like her siblings. You, the love of my absolute life, who has given me so much to be grateful for.”

Tears were welling up in Eddie’s eyes against his permission. He just loved Steve so much, and he hated seeing him so upset.

“Eddie,” Steve whispered, voice shaking with his emotions.

“Stevie, honey, I cannot even begin to tell you just how amazing I think you are. How strong, capable, loving, and wonderful. The greatest gift of my life is getting to be a dad, and you have given that to me six times now. I am so deeply in love with you, and our big family. I would never trade any of our pups for anything in the entire world. I don't need a fancy house or money, because you and our babies are my home. I don't care what anyone else has to say about it. I am obsessed with you and our six little pups, this house with its scattered Christmas decorations that we haven't had the time to put up yet, and every single other thing about this little life we’ve built for ourselves. Fuck everyone else. This is the only thing that matters.”

Eddie held Steve to his chest as he cried, rubbing his back and whispering all of his love into Steve’s ear in the hope that it would sink beneath his skin and stay there forever.

Later, Grace will wake up and need Eddie to put her back to sleep. Later, Lucy will crawl into bed with them and cuddle up to Steve. Later, Eddie will help Steve make breakfast before going to work. Later, they’ll put up decorations and stick the Christmas presents under the tree. Later, they’ll have a newborn in the house, someone else for Eddie to love with everything he has.

Later, Eddie will still be deeply in love with the home that he and Steve have built together, regardless of what anyone else has to say about it.

[gingeralecranberry]

CHAPTER 3

𝟐-𝟑 ; 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫

I FEEL NOTHING

☺︎ cw:

gojo satoru is still a menace, maybe ooc?, this chapter is pretty tame it's kind of just following the motions for once strangely enough, gojo satoru is a lovesick fool, megumi fushiguro remains an edgy teen, itadori yuji is like the only normal one here, yaga as adoptive family teehee, canon typical violence, yuji gets his ass handed to him momentarily, yuji is quickly proving to be the favorite child???

‘That old dude’s making cute things!’ 

Perhaps it might have brought someone else comfort but the strange, grumpy, tall, and undoubtedly stronger-looking man hunched over a personal felting project didn’t help with the anxious pounding in Itadori’s chest.  Especially not with the creepy, candlelit ambience. 

Much like the rest of the campus, the principal’s office was extremely traditional looking. From the same dark wood framing the same off-white walls, human-sized calligraphy talisman, tatami mats, and sliding shoji doors, the interior office matched the exterior building. 

Despite wearing a uniform nearly identical to Gojo’s, the two sorcerers couldn’t give off energies any more different.  With his lanky build and messy hair, not to mention his childish attitude, it was difficult to take Satoru seriously.  Yaga, on the other hand, nonverbally demanded respect from everyone in the room.   His eyes were obscured by the orange tint of his sunglasses, but Yuji could still feel the intense glare shifting between the three men entering the room.  His jaw was set in a stern frown, goatee only adding to his commanding aura.  His booming voice radiated authority, snapping the teen out of his momentary trance. 

“Satoru,” he called, abruptly setting aside his tools, “I thought the day may never come.” 

A tense moment of silence passed before the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile that seemed a little unnatural on his tense features. 

“...you’re here a minute early.” 

The younger man frowned, upturning his nose indignantly, “Haha, laugh it up while you can, old man.  Be glad I didn’t have anything more important to do.” 

Having mentored him for so long, it was naturally (name)’s instinct to correct him.  “Respect your elders, you big baby.”  Two calloused fingers pinched on the white haired sorcerer’s earlobe, tugging downward, “I might be the one who dragged you here on time, but he’s still your boss.” 

Gojo swatted his hand away with an even deeper frown, making a noise not all that different from a wounded animal while he sulked. 

Biting back an unprofessional smile, the principal cleared his throat. The hair on the back of Yuji’s neck stood up as the man’s orange lenses locked with his eyes, “That’s the boy?”

“Yeah,” (surname) hummed, crossing his arms against his chest,  “Do me a favor and go easy on him.” 

Taking a momentary break from his brooding, Satoru perked up, pausing to take a look at the back of (name)’s head. 

Instead of acknowledging how out of character it was for the man to request anything, attention was directed back at Yuji.  In turn, however, it felt like the boy’s fight or flight activated…but in a strange non-confrontational way?  Much like he did everything else, his instincts told him to run into things head first. 

He gave a respectful ninety-degree bow, raising his voice, “Itadori Yuji! I’m into girls like Jennifer Lawrence! Pleasure to meet you!” 

“...”

“Ahem-”

Quietly, trying to stifle a surprised laugh, (name) tried to cough discreetly into his hand.  Gojo, on the other hand, made no attempt to hide his amusement, a devilish grin rising onto his previously pouty expression.  Thankfully, our poor student remained completely oblivious.  

Unwilling to let two immature special grades interrupt his interview, Yaga’s voice sliced through the tense silence without difficulty, “What did you come here for?” 

With the innocence of a child, Itadori lifted his head.  Clearly confused, he gave an equally confused answer, “...an interview…?” 

Taking this as his queue, the older of the two “immature special grades” made his way off to the side of the room to take a backseat to the principal’s teaching shenanigans.  He made a motion with his neck to his former student, trying to get him to follow suit. 

Masamichi Yaga, the towering presence he was, stood tall as he asked his next question.  “But why Jujutsu Tech?” 

Still unsure of the deeper meaning behind any of his questions, Yuji sheepishly gave an answer that was equally as straightforward as his first, “To learn jujutsu…?”

(name) turned back to look at Satoru, only to find the idiot still standing in the middle of the room.  

“I mean beyond that,” Yaga continued, “What do you hope to find once you’ve studied curses and learned how to exorcise them?” 

Hastily, the special grade backtracked, flicking the younger one on the forehead, prompting a quiet, ‘ow!’ 

“Well, I mean…” the teenager scratched his head, standing up fully from his previous bow, “I’m going to collect the fingers of Sukuna.  It’s dangerous to leave them as is.” 

(surname)’s hands made a reappearance, tugging on his stubborn coworker’s bony wrist as he dragged a reluctant Satoru off to the side of the room.  Of course, this didn’t go without some auditory protest.

Yaga crossed his burly arms over his chest, frowning, “Why?” 

Yuji blinked. 

“People you’ll never know die everyday due to crimes, accidents, and diseases in the natural course of life.”  He tilted his head to the side in an effort to provoke, “But you’re telling me you can’t overlook it when that death is caused by a curse?” 

Itadori opened his mouth, wrangling for an answer in his surprise.  “It was someone’s dying wish,” he countered, “I don’t care about the details.  I just want to save people!” 

Yaga’s frown curled into a grimace, “A dying wish?”  His nose crinkled with disdain as he lowered his chin, “You’re saying you’ll fight curses because someone else told you to?”

“...”

With the lack of a clear response, the principal raised his hand, pointing a finger at the student in question, “You fail!” 

The low thrum of cursed energy pulsed through the air only for a few seconds before trickling into the body of one of Yaga’s older cursed corpses.  It’s mint green body twitched, beady eyes gradually gaining a glimmering sheen of life.  

Cathy arose, teeth gnashing against one another, antsy little mitts poised and ready to strike. 

“Those weren’t dolls?!” 

The stuffed animal bounced back and forth, alternating feet with a wicked giggle. 

“Cursed corpses,” Yaga’s arm fell back to his side, his own smile gracing his normally stoic features, “They’re dolls infused with my curse.” 

(surname) squeezed his eyes shut to avoid looking at the impending strike. 

Cathy lunged, fists first, at the stunned Itadori aiming straight for the gut.  Even in his shock, the vessel managed to whip his backpack off his shoulder and use it as an impromptu brace for his stomach.   Still, despite the stuffed fist’s cushioned landing, he was sent sprawling backwards into one of the room’s many drywall pillars. 

“Ugh-”

The older of the two bystanders sucked in sharply through his teeth, finally peeling his eyes open to peer at the damage.  The pillar cracked with the brunt weight of the blow, bent into a subtle v shape.  On the other hand, Gojo shook his head, his usual carefree smile back across his cheeks again. “Ooh, that couldn’t have felt good.” 

Itadori inhaled through his chest, breathing a little labored after having the wind knocked out of him, “Is that… really just a doll?”

Completely ignoring his question, Yaga clenched his hand into a fist, “A person’s true nature reveals itself during a crisis,” he brought it in front of his chest in a swift motion, “I’ll keep attacking you until I get an acceptable answer!”

He was completely unaware of when he’d gotten so swept up in the encounter, but Gojo placed a hand on his mentor’s shoulder, “Hey… hey!” 

(name) blinked a few times, casting over a glance, “What?”

Yuji grit his teeth, hands balling up as tightly as humanly possible, “Look man, it wasn’t just ‘someone else’,” He burst forth from his previous nook in the pillar, “It was a family member’s dying wish!” 

He landed a brutal punch straight to Cathy’s gut, sending the mint green terror bouncing off the walls.  The shockwave rippled throughout the room, only making the presence of a second person’s cursed energy more apparent. 

“Your heavenly pact, you’re starting to siphon some of my infinity,” Satoru noted matter-of-factly.  He tacked on an amused chortle, “Don’t tell me you’re actually getting this worked up about a student interview.” 

“A family member is still, ‘someone else’,” Yaga quipped, crossing his arms once again. 

The pink-haired vessel watched with calculated interest as the round sack of fluff flew around the room, clenching his jaw as he noted, ‘Right, it’s a doll… It doesn’t get hurt or frightened.’ 

“A jujutsu sorcerer is constantly facing death, and not just their own,” Yaga added, trying to drive his point home. “Sometimes, you must ignore those murdered by a curse to rend the flesh from it.  It’s an unpleasant job, you have to be a little crazy and highly motivated to handle it.  You’d do that because someone else told you to?” A dry huff resounded from the principal’s throat, “Don’t make me laugh! It’d be more believable if you told me you were doing this to postpone your execution!” 

“Screw you!” the teen cursed, “I-”

(name) gritted his teeth, “Shut up, this is different.”  As quickly as the balloon of cursed energy expanded, it shrunk. “He doesn’t know anything about sorcery. “ 

Gojo leaned in impossibly close to the other bystander, “So you are? Don’t tell me you’re going all soft on me, Sensei.” 

Callously, the older man taunted, “Are you going to blame your grandfather when you’re killed by a curse, too?!” 

Itadori completely stopped in his tracks, eyes widening as he stared at Yaga in disbelief.  His jaw hung open, momentarily left to catch flies.   The room felt too still and far too quiet for a moment. 

“Don’t act like you don’t hate conscripting child soldiers as much as I do, Satoru,” (surname) murmured, staring ahead, “They’ve got enough on their plates, kid’s already worrying about dying in a few years.” 

Satoru didn’t answer.

Finally, Yuji swallowed a hunk of spit down his dry throat, “You say some pretty damn harsh things, old man.” 

The principal didn’t bend.  He willingly engaged in a staredown with his prospective student, giving a flippant, “Education is making people realize things.” 

Ever ready to engage, Itadori opened his mouth again to voice a rebuttal, “I’m not really-” 

‘WHAM!’ 

Having been all but forgotten in the heat of the conversation, Cathy had managed to plant a devastating sucker punch straight to the interviewee’s face. 

“...Whatever, sorry to bring it to such a dark place,” the former teacher huffed, brushing any stray hairs from his face, “I’ll keep things in check.” 

“Nah, you don’t need to apologize,” Gojo corrected, a smaller smile on his lips, “The system needs some reworking; why else do you think I would’ve picked up a teaching job?” 

“...”

“It’s not easy to imagine how you’ll feel on the verge of death.  However, I can say one thing for certain,” Yaga’s voice boomed, “At the rate you’re going, you could end up cursing your beloved grandfather.  Jujutsu sorcerers never die without regret.” 

“...”

“I’ll ask you once more, why have you come here to Jujutsu Tech?” 

The thoughts in Itadori’s mind raged like a typhoon, whipping and colliding with one another each and every second. 

‘Why had he come to jujutsu tech?’

‘What reason did he have to sacrifice everything to fight curses?’ 

‘Why him?’

Yet, in a split second, his thoughts converged into an answer. 

Cathy, having been on standby, readied its fists for yet another easy mark.  

‘I was always better than most in sports and in fights… but never once did I think “This is something only I can do.”’

With the same evil little cackle, the cursed corpse launched itself from its standing point next to its master, hands outstretched and ready to connect. 

But they never did. 

With a new determination and courage shining in his sickeningly sweet, honey-toned amber eyes, Itadori faced yaga once again.  His arms ready, but instead of attempting to land another punch, he waited for the monstrosity to come to him. 

It landed against his chest with a resounding ‘THUD!’.  Before it could reel back for another hit, however, his open arms snapped shut like a bear trap, tightening like a vice around what would’ve been the curse’s neck.  

“Consuming Sukuna is something only I can do.”

Behind his spectacles, Yaga’s eyes seemed to soften. 

Kneeled, close to the ground, Cathy wrenched its body around in an attempt to escape the prison it found itself in.  Yuji, on the other hand, remained steadfast.  “If I managed to escape my death sentence and ran away from this responsibility, I’d be there, eating food, taking a bath, reading manga… But the moment I stopped to think, I’d go, ‘Oh, I bet someone’s dying because of Sukuna right now’, and I’d become depressed.” 

The principal looked at him, impassive. 

“‘That doesn’t involve me.  It’s not my fault…’” The same brown eyes hardened with an inexplicable anger, “You expect me to just tell myself that?  I refuse to do that!” 

His hands trembled as his forearms pressed impossibly further into the stuffed animal’s nonexistent stuffed throat, “I don’t know how I’ll feel when I’m dying, but I don’t want to regret the way I lived!” 

“...”

The boy’s words reverberated around the room as all three adults stood in silence.  

“...”

“Satoru.” 

The teacher perked up.

 “Show him to the dorm, explain the security and everything else to him too.”

With a smile, the principal offers the crouched teen a hand, “You pass, welcome to Jujutsu Tech.” 

Yuji’s face lights up, arms going lax as a brilliant smile begins to cross his cheeks. 

Cathy, of course, doesn’t seem to share the same sentiments.  

“Gather.” 

With a flick of the sorcerer’s wrist, the squirming corpse falls silent again, a few strandlike pieces of cursed energy seemingly pulled from the strange bald spot on its head.

“Ah,” 

“Yeah, you forgot to release your technique again, geezer.” 

“Wow, this place is huge!” 

The overeager boy zipped around the large, empty room.  Unlike the rest of the campus, it wasn’t… as traditional looking?  That wasn’t to say that it wasn’t traditional looking.  It had the same basic structure as the rest of the buildings on campus, but the full-length glass window gave it a touch of modernity.  

The room itself was basic, bare bones.  There wasn’t much to look at in terms of furniture and even less to look at in terms of decor.  There was a bed frame, a desk, a rolling desk chair, and a wardrobe.  Of course, there was a functioning AC and a hanging light, but those didn’t exactly count as furniture.  

“All the second and third-years are out at the moment, but you’ll meet them soon enough.  There aren’t many of them.” 

Leaning on a tall stack of boxes containing all of Itadori’s worldly belongings, Gojo watched the boy bounce around the room.  There was a strange sense of glee and life the boy carried with him everywhere.  Happiness, joy, and excitement were things the Jujutsu world lacked.  So, in short, it was nice to see it up close every now and then. 

Comedically, the boy opened his own wardrobe to shout “Anybody hooomeee?!” 

Almost imperceptibly, the white-haired sorcerer’s smile grew just a little bit.  “You know, there’s really no reason for you to fight, is there?” 

The teen, who had been taping up his favorite Jennifer Lawrence poster, paused to turn back to the other man supervising him. 

He raised a finger, as he characteristically did when he was speaking, “Fushiguro and I could retrieve Sukuna’s fingers… You could just wait here.” 

“It’s fine!” Itadori vehemently shook his head, smoothing out any potential wrinkles in the bathing suit-clad woman on the paper, “I said I’d do it, and I’m doing it!” 

However as another moment passed, it seemed he was rethinking his statement, “Though, lazing around…” his thoughts drifted, eyes narrowing as he pictured less than battle-worthy version of his classmate sticking his head through the door, “...while Fushiguro came in all beat up to bring me a finger would be a funny sight…”

Gojo hummed, knowingly, “That’s true.” As quickly as he indulged the boy though, he swiftly shifted gear, “Well, I know there’s no way in hell you’re not gonna fight.” 

“Wh- Hey!” The student protested, springing up from the bed to point an accusatory finger, “You were testing me?!” 

Before he could launch into any further arguments, his teacher seemingly materialized a few inches away from his face out of thin air.  The finger he was previously waving around was held up in front of Itadori’s face. 

“Ah…” 

An awkward amount of time went by before Gojo said anything else, “If they were that easy to find, we would’ve found them already.”  

Yuji stared back at him, just as confused as he was previously. 

Satoru pivoted on his foot, “Some have a presence that’s overwhelming, some keep very quiet… others have already been absorbed by a cursed spirit.”  He slammed his fist into his other open palm, “There’s nothing more troublesome when it comes to searching for them.” 

Itadori cocked his head to the side. 

“But now we have you!” 

The teacher clapped his hands together excitedly, whirling to look back at the other person in the room.  “You see, the Sukuna within you will tell us where the fingers are to try and regain his power.”  Very happily, he clasped his hands together, “You’re both a vessel and locator, our very own radar!”  

“...?”

Gesturing to the door, Satoru continued, “That’s how I know we won’t get anywhere without you in the field.” 

Walking through the door his teacher had so kindly opened for him, Itadori scratched his chin.  “You think he’s going to be that nice?” 

Closing the door behind him, Gojo dismissed him with a wave of the hand, “I think we can come to a win-win agreement here.” 

As the two traversed down the hallway of student dorms, another door creaked open one room over.   

“...You’re next door?” 

Fushiguro, despite still not being in the best shape, looked to be doing significantly better.  Instead of virtually covering every square inch of his body,  the bandages and remaining wounds were a lot fewer and further inbetween courtesy Shoko’s technique.  With his tousled hair, deep eyebags, and messy pajamas, it was obvious he’d just crawled out of his bed. 

“Oh, Fushiguro!” Itadori smiled, raising yet another energetic thumbs up, “You look like you’re doing well now!” 

Despite being more than cordial and friendly in his opening, Megumi completely ignored his new classmate to talk one on one with Gojo, “There were plenty of other rooms, weren’t there?” 

“But isn’t livelier better?” Satoru shrugged, gesturing to Itadori’s room, “I thought it’d be good for–” 

Fushiguro cut him off with a scowl, “Classes and missions are enough, this was an unwelcome favor.” 

While being ignored, Yuji took the opportunity to peek past the other teen’s shoulder and into his own dorm.  His eyes widened, announcing, “Wow, it’s so organized!” 

Suddenly deciding to acknowledge his presence, Fushiguro slammed the door shut on Itadori’s head, “I just said you’re unwelcome!” 

“Erk!” 

“Maybe try to be a little bit more delicate around the head.” 

The three bickering men turned their heads back to the familiar voice coming from the end of the hall.  

(name) approached with his hands in his pockets, brushing shoulders with Satoru before closing in on the dorm door.  Gently pressing his hands to the side of Yuji’s skull, he pulled it away from the slam zone.  “He just got a rude awakening to sorcery in Yaga’s office, I’d give him some grace.” 

Paying no mind to the hands on his head, Itadori pondered, “Ah, speaking of Principal Yaga, how did your meeting with him go, (surname)-sensei?”

The older man paused, scrunching up his face, “Eh…” 

“Why don’t you ever visit home anymore?” 

“Your eyebags are getting worse, are you sleeping properly?”

“Are you even eating?! You’ve lost so much weight!”

“You need to be a better influence for your younger brother, he looks up to you!” 

“You’re going to send me into an early retirement, I can feel my hair turning gray already…” 

The special grade shrugged, “Like they usually do.   He’s caring when he tries to be.” 

“If you missed me at the school so much, you could’ve just called me or asked me to come home over text.” 

“Ah, but then I worry I might be interrupting you in the middle of something important.” 

“...Even if he’s annoying about the way he does it.” 

Satoru sighed fondly off to the side, “If that isn’t Yaga-sensei.” 

(surname) kicked him in the shin, “I’d agree with anyone else who said that but you.” 

Gojo let out a yelp as he stepped back to cradle his wounded leg, “Do I seriously need to keep my infinity up to the max around you?!” 

While Fushiguro gave an amused huff, Yuji looked back at the white-haired sorcerer jumping on a single leg while nursing his new bruise incredulously. 

“Ignore him,” the older sorcerer stated, patting Yuji’s shoulders a couple times.  “There was really only one interesting thing about my meeting with Yaga, but boiled down, he asked me a favor and I’m not really all that inclined to deny my old man any requests.” 

He started off back down the hall, “Jujutsu High’s going to be stuck with me for a couple years, so make sure I don’t catch you slacking off.  Oh, and,” he turned over his shoulder, “Make sure the two of you are well-rested tomorrow morning, we’ve got a busy day ahead of us.” 

JAZMIN BEAN : FAVORITE TOY

☺︎ taglist:

@angelkazusstuff @ahoeindeedinneed @wutap @mysouleaten @ilovebattinson @satansdaughter123 @http-l-o-k-i @rinaizha

masterlist: ☓

[zebulontheplanet]

Went to the OBGYN today! She remarked how hairy I was and thinks I could possibly have PCOS! She wants to do some tests before diagnosing but yeah!

I feel validated right now. Like really validated. My hairy self, my masculine frame, my flat chest (not flat anymore because birth control fucked me up), my acne that started young, and when I could speak I had a very masculine voice. All these things got me bullied when I was younger, and I feel like a part of me sorta healed from that appointment. I felt like such a “freak” (I DONT think intersex people are freaks. This is just how I felt) growing up because I didn’t look like girls my age. I was always masculine, and that fucked with me A LOT when I was early teens and even childhood and just trying to fit in.

I’ve always been hesitant to call myself intersex, or even say I suspect that I’m intersex. I can’t ignore my life experiences, but I also don’t want to push myself into a community when I don’t even know what I have yet or what’s going on. I’m hoping to get answers soon but apart of me is afraid I’ll never really get answers, and always just have that part of me always feel like a “freak” because it’s always been unexplained.

I know there’s a chance that my levels could be normal and I don’t get the diagnosis, but I still feel validated right now.

[rei-ismyname]

The deification of Jean Grey

When a 16 year old Jean Grey was bought to the present by Hank McIrresponsible, she was immediately confronted with the post-death canonisation the X-Men greater social circle had saddled her with. Big feelings and bigger expectations.

The worst of it was from people who'd never even met her, but those closest to her was no less fraught. Adult Scott was certainly affected by her presence, but he behaved the most normal about it (cough, Logan.)

This is a really cute conversation, clearly something Jean needs. Not sure I agree that Jean never had a chance. She made her choices as a hero but there's plenty that *could* have gone differently. Besides, she's already come back to life at least once and travelled through time a bunch. You can't keep Jean Grey down for long. I'd expect Scott to say something like that, though he seems especially pensive at this point. I guess it's understandable, as time travel is a headfuck. It's cute that he's jealous of his younger self and that he admits it.

Scott's empathy for Hank here is really sweet, especially considering the lengths Hank went through to hurt him (intentionally or not.) The very presence of Jean should be reminding people of the culpability of a Phoenix host. Jean is safely dead and can be put on a pedestal, whereas Scott receives nothing but venom. I'm sure Chuck's death is a big factor, but the man tried very hard to die by Dark Phoenix Jean, too. It's easy to overlook the flaws of the dead, and in many ways Jean and Xavier both get canonised as mutant saints. Neither deserve it, for different reasons.

Oh boy, Jean's actions here are difficult to discuss appropriately. She's lonely and scared, she's just woken up from a nightmare, and the person she's closest to is there for her - all grown up. I doubt this is intended to be sexual, my read on it is Jean reaching for platonic intimacy. It's definitely rooted in the love Scott and Jean have for each other, something their awkward 16 year old selves haven't managed to navigate. 'The man I hoped you'd be' is loaded as hell, but it is very human. None of us have ever met our time-displaced selves or loves, and it's very understandable to view them as the same person, except not/better.

I'm not going to credit Scott for not learning into Jean's confusion and need for comfort (because it's just the right thing to do) but I do think he understands and he definitely handled it appropriately. Setting firm boundaries and pivoting the focus to the kind of support Jean needs is considerate and responsible.

Kitty's stance and pseudo-threat here is difficult to parse. She says he handled it well, luckily for him, implying that she was listening the whole time but was also wary of him not handling it well? It's hard to see this as anything other than Kitty thinking they might fuck. I'm not sure they do understand each other, because Kitty didn't listen to him, she just banned him from being in her room alone. Not an unreasonable policy to have, but it doesn't give Scott a lot of credit. As they both leave, Jean cries which seems like a failure of duty of care. Feels like there's more going on here. 'But if the genders were reversed' whataboutery is usually bad faith nonsense, but there is an actual example here. If Kitty heard young Bobby crying alone or screaming in the middle of the night I'm pretty sure she'd check in on him. That she's dated his adult counterpart changes nothing. Adult! Scott and Teen! Jean could communicate telepathically any time they wished, so idk. Maybe just the writers covering their bases and overcorrecting.

Then there's Emma and the Cuckoos. While Emma is the best person to train and teach Teen Jean, she does it in a very messed up way. Jean is so obviously right when she identifies that Emma has issues. I'm not fond of this plot point, or at least how it's written - the whole 'girls are bitchy and jealous' regressive idea put centre stage. This psychic duel fails the Bechdel Test and makes all the adults look super irresponsible for allowing it to happen.

Keep in mind Emma is bombarding a 16 year old with sexual images. Jean IS a saint for putting up with this shit and not melting her brain. Telepathy isn't real, but intrusive thoughts are - and I don't think it's a stretch to say targeted sexualised intrusive thoughts is deliberately traumatizing a teenager. I definitely think this could have been written better. Emma having unresolved Jean Grey issues is to be expected, but dealing with it like this and everyone being okay with it is difficult to believe.

Then again, it seems nobody is immune to the deification of Jean Grey, not even the writers. They all know her as the most powerful telepath so obviously teenage Jean can deal with whatever you throw at her. Kitty and Scott should know better, and Emma has plenty of other ways to train Jean. Yes, she's the great Jean Grey, but she's also a 16 year old who's not coping all that well. I'm glad that Teen Jean and Emma became friends not long after this, but it says a lot that the dude writing it couldn't figure out a way to explain it on the page. There was an opportunity here to show women building a friendship off their commonalities, but instead it's something Jean has to overcome with psychic power not emotional strength - and the adults looking after her don't look very responsible.

[echologname]

In support of Sam x Danny

We never got to see what the relationship of the Phantom trio was like before the portal accident but I think it's mostly similar to how we see them in the show. To me, it seems like it's implied that Sam always secretly liked Danny and then one fateful day, she and Tucker witnessed him almost die, don't you think after something traumatic like that, it's harder to keep feelings for another inside? Also, after Danny got his powers and started fighting ghosts, Sam got to witness his bravery and willingness to help people put to extreme tests. She didn't fall in love with him because of cool powers, she genuinely fell in love with who he is. His new life as a halfa, like all trials in life, helped him to become a better person, throughout their adventures virtues were strengthened and vices were weakened and their friendship was matured through its testing. I don't see it but it's a common claim that Sam only started crushing on Danny AFTER he got his powers which paints her in a shallow view. So, I'd like to point out correlation does not necessarily equal causation. Clearly Danny went through big changes from the accident but I betcha Sam and Tucker weren't quite the same themselves and if one of them being a more prominent openness to showing affection then there's nothing wrong with that.

Whether friends or lovers, I think both work but I just wanted to say, Sam doesn't deserve the hate she gets from fans for canonically being the one to end up with Danny in the end. And who's to say it's a forever thing? Teens are constantly growing and changing and so are their romantic interests. It's OK to think you work together at one point and not so much the next. Their identities are still developing and so are their brains. And if they do stay together forever, no matter what happens, then isn't that all the more sweet and wholesome? Even if Sam had an inkling of ghostly bias towards liking him, it's totally the green eyes given how much she likes plants and nature (ironically green is the color of life and health).

The whole episode with Sam falling for the fake foreign exchange guy who looks a lot like Danny's ghost form doesn't help her case. I get it, because of an example like this, fans fear she likes Phantom more than Fenton. But his whole persona WAS all an act for the purpose of targeting what a specific girl likes like telling Sam he was a vegetarian then acted like a jock in front of cheerleaders. Or maybe this is what she needed, to see that like Danny, this guy also had an alter ego but he was using it deceptively for personal gain. Meeting Danny PHANTOM for the first time might have felt like meeting a new person to her, so a stranger from another country symbolizes that. Then the truth about him being a jerk comes out when he metaphorically, "drops his mask." Sam knows both sides of Danny and knows that he isn't like that guy at all, and she's seen for herself that he's still himself no matter what he looks like. He genuinely wants to help people and doesn't put on an act. Perhaps this failed relationship helped her realize how much Danny cares for her both as Fenton AND Phantom and that he's always been a good friend she can trust (he DID spy on her in the episode and of course Sam was offended but it didn't really hurt their relationship).

Disagreeing with them being together is still understandable but c'mon, how many relationships were you in that was also a cringe pairing? Relationships aren't perfect but the people that we were/are with have helped us understand ourselves and each other more. The person you're with now may be who you need to be with for a certain period of your life to help prepare you for the one you'll be with forever. It's important for even awkward and rash relationships to take their course so we can grow from them.

So, I think we can find it in our hearts to be more forgiving to some cartoon kids. Sam and Danny's relationship is an important part of their character development no matter how it turns out or how much the ship is hated.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Landlocked: A Rohan Secret Santa Ficlet

This is for you, @hastyhobbit !!! All of your prompts were intriguing, and I wish I could have done them all justice. I went with the prompt on the sea (what do the Rohirrim think of it? Do they have stories or legends about it?) and wrote you a Théodred and Éowyn story.

The fic is here on AO3 or below. It’s Théodred being the ultimate good cousin/big brother figure by giving teen Éowyn some life advice on a trip to the beach. Big thanks to @celeluwhenfics who read an early draft and whose wise and prompt feedback saved me many hours of staring at it!

Note that Storhaern is the Rohirric name for the ocean to the west of Middle Earth and just means “great sea.” In this story, Éowyn is 14, Éomer is 18, and Théodred is 31.

🐚🦀🐚🦀🐚🦀🐚🦀🐚🦀🐚🦀

Coast of the Storhaern, T.A. 3009

“Do you not want to feel the surf, cousin? Even just to wade a little right here at the shore?”

Théodred splashed his foot back and forth in the turquoise shallows, sending a light spray of water in Éowyn’s direction, but she barely looked up from the little shell she was turning idly in her hands. In fact, she had barely looked up since they arrived on the coast earlier that morning, plopping down a few yards from the water’s leading edge and keeping quietly to herself despite Éomer’s numerous entreaties to join him in the waves. She still sat in that same quietude, though she had moved steadily back as the advancing tide claimed more and more of the beach, and she held her silence even as Théodred walked over now to take a seat next to her in the coarse, warm sand.

Shielding his eyes from the sun, he squinted out at the rolling swell, an endless rippling expanse that blended gradually into the blue of the sky in the farthest distance. “They say that out there somewhere is the land where the elves go when they’re ready to leave Middle Earth,” he said, nodding toward the wide vista before them. “Eventually, they all feel the call and sail off to spend the rest of eternity beyond the horizon in a land that can’t be found by any mortal traveler.” He nudged her gently with his elbow. “What do you think of that?”

She glanced up at him just long enough to frown before returning her gaze to the shell in her hand. “It makes no difference to me. I don’t even know any elves.”

“Me neither. But I still like to think about it sometimes.” He stretched out his legs toward a small crest that swept up the sand to lap at his toes before disappearing back into the shoals, leaving clumps of colorful sea grass in its wake. “How might those other shores look? Do they have the same problems and sadnesses that we find here? Do the people there ever miss Middle Earth once they’ve sailed away from it? There are no answers in our songs and poems.”

She gave a listless shrug. “Thinking about all that serves no purpose. Even if that land exists, you’ll never see it.”

“You may be right.” He gave a mild smile and then arched a brow. “But then again, you may not. Lots of things happen in life that we don’t expect, and there’s no telling where you may end up.”

This time she merely sighed in response, and when it was clear that she would say nothing further they sat in silence, listening to the rhythmic washing of water back and forth over rock and sand and the echoing cries of the gulls and terns.

He watched her from the corner of his eye as they sat, marveling at how she had both the fresh face of inexperienced youth and the grave aspect of one who had already endured much. He had worked hard over the years to lighten those somber tendencies, to give her a place of loving stability and protection so that she could reclaim a little of the carefree childhood that she deserved, and his efforts had not been entirely in vain. He had looked on with pride as she slowly transformed from a mournful and subdued little girl into a bright and spirited young woman, full of enthusiasm and mischief and quick both to action and affection. But lately he could see this hard fought progress eroding, wearing gradually away like the boulders that lined the edge of the bay and broke the hardest of the surf. She laughed and smiled less frequently, and she had become prone to long periods of contemplative quiet, holding herself apart from people and things that she loved and reappraising it all with a sharper, more critical eye.

She had declined his many invitations to talk about what troubled her, leaving him only to speculate. But the timing of this change in her bearing — coinciding, as it did, with Éomer’s assumption of his first official duties — spoke volumes to Théodred. He had long perceived that she had the mind and mettle to match her brother deed for deed, though she had yet to voice the inclination and perhaps didn’t even believe it to be a thought worth putting into words.

It was partly for that reason that Théodred had brought her here in the first place. Away from the confines of her daily existence and the familiar plains and valleys whose every golden field and glittering stream she already knew by heart, he’d hoped that she would open up. He hoped she would allow herself to be as boundless and unpredictable as the foreign ocean that was now before her in all its glorious might, so much wider and more mysterious than their own land that was tightly bounded by mountains and rivers. He wanted her to see that her life need not always be the same, and she needn’t always be hemmed in by borders, real or imagined. She could carve a new path — he would help her to do it — if she only trusted herself enough to try.

He knew from experience that she could maintain a silence more stubbornly than anyone, and so after a time he ventured to speak again, putting a hand on her arm and squeezing lightly until she looked up at him at last.

“I’m glad that we’re here,” he said. “I know the sea doesn’t mean much to our people. Most Rohirrim will never even set eyes on it, nor feel the need to, and we get all that we require from the Snowbourn or the Entwash or the Adorn. But there’s a reason I wanted you to see it, cousin, and not just for its beauty. The world is a very big place, much bigger than you can imagine, and even the seemingly endless Storhaern is just one small part. It’s a reminder that there is much still to explore and learn and accomplish out there.”

She laughed, a hollow, mirthless sound with a bitter edge that seemed to speak unsaid words. Not for me. Her eyes flashed in the midday sun but a tremble in her lip tinged her bitterness with sorrow, and she turned aside from him, dropping the shell to the ground with a dull thud. “I’d rather be alone again, cousin, if you don’t mind. Just come and fetch me when Éomer is done having his fun.”

He stifled a small sigh of defeat and made ready to honor her request, but the flat, tired tone in her voice tugged at his heart like the tow of the bay’s undercurrent and he found that he couldn’t walk away without first trying to offer something that might be of comfort. As he groped for the right words, he stared down at the discarded shell, a pearlescent spiral of soft pink with bright whorls of red and orange, and picked it up, tracing a finger across its smooth, hard surface. A memory began to slowly emerge from the depths of his mind. A memory of another delicate shell in a hand much like Éowyn’s. A memory from long ago that told him exactly what he wanted to say now.

“May I share just one more thing, cousin? And then I promise that I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

She nodded without turning.

“When I was a small boy, I once found a shell just like this one that you’ve been toying with. We were visiting Grandmother’s family, and Aunt Théodwyn took me for a special day at the beach, just the two of us. We swam and watched the boats coming into the harbor, and she buried me in the sand until only my head and my feet were still visible.”

Her back was still to him, but he could tell by the slight tilt of her head that she was listening, caught as always by any reference to her mother.

“My favorite part was digging around in the tidal flats for clams and snails and other creatures hiding in the silt, and we discovered a small crab living in a little pink and orange shell. That shell was meant to protect him and give him a place to rest and grow, and it seemed to do its job well. But your mother told me that it wouldn’t always. As the crab got older and bigger, the shell would start to feel uncomfortable to him. It would restrain him from doing everything he wanted and needed to do, becoming a hindrance rather than a help. And so he would change it. When he felt ready, he’d crawl out and find a new one that suited him better and made him happy. He didn’t have to be trapped forever in the shell he started with. He just needed the courage to claim a different one.” He leaned over to place the shell back in front of her before hoisting himself to his feet. “Sounds pretty smart, if you ask me.”

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head as he straightened up and then left her as promised, heading out to the surf line where Éomer and a few of his guards were gleefully allowing themselves to be battered by the incoming tide. He took only one quick look back to see that she held the shell in her hand once more, staring at it with new intensity, and when she quietly slipped it into her pocket, he smiled.