#everyone else is supposed to instantly forgive them

[spread-the-influence]

I know its never gonna happen ever not ever, and that you only got the ragatha brainworms, but its been stuck in my brain since the jax murder.

if ragatha hadn’t been virus’ed, yet somehow still got to the point where jax says “to have a friend” (unlikely), would jax have actually opened up, or just shuttered himself as soon as the concept of being open sets back in? Could he have improved had he not been ganked?

forgive me for the essay below . ragatha may be rotting my brain but i still have elaborate thoughts on the other characters , even if i don't go to the levels of insanity i go for ragatha .

jax , to me , is a deeply lonely and miserable person , and i will say here that the line was kind of more ' a person that'll see and understand me ' . my interpretation of jax is not as charitable as most interpretations of him i've seen , though — he's not a jerk with a heart of gold or is secretly protecting everybody . he's just someone with a very destructive coping mechanism that harms everybody and himself .

he doesn't really see the cast as People , he sees them as Characters . a Cast in the big theater stage that is the circus . he prefers to do what's not boring by going off-script . this means making a mess out of the stage set , bothering the characters , and doing what he's Not supposed to do . it's entertaining ! it distracts him from how ... he's stuck in this stage forever . if he goes with the script , that fact would weigh on him . it's better that he does Not think about that . everyone would be surprised by how quickly that would make him lose his mind .

but it isn't fulfilling . it's a Distraction , an Avoidance . it's something that he does to Not confront his issues . my interpretation of jax at least puts up an emotional wall not Just because he doesn't want people to see his vulnerable side ( i like to think that the one thing he hates is being Wronged , and there's a certain level of suspicion that someone in the cast would do it if he lowers his guard ) but because he thinks there's No reason to put it down .

jax , like a lot of people , craves a community . he wants to be Wanted and Loved . but it's hard for him to get both of those things when these people are just ... Not real to him . what he wants most is That realness . he wants to know that in this big stage he's stuck in , there's someone else who is just as lost as him . someone that also isn't playing by the script . someone that's not a Character .

... and ragatha really doesn't fit those , as much as i'd hate to admit it . she is a Character . she plays the role of the optimistic and caring ragdoll . she is Far from fitting the image of a real person in jax's eyes . that conversation would naturally end in jax realizing he's opening up and shutting himself off — most likely Even more than he already does . basically he wouldn't improve ... with ragatha .

if there's someone that might fit the above paragraph , it's either pomni or zooble . i feel like these two would have better chances of making jax slowly open up with that kind of conversation , since they're both the most grounded and Real people in the circus .

i do not think that it would make jax instantly accept into the community of the circus — years of bad habits are Not easy to drop — but it'll be like a hand being extended to him . he sees that there's a world beyond the stage , and he takes it . and that's a lot more fulfilling than distracting himself .

lord i feel like this post is a contender enough to warrant a second ESSAY WARNING tag but yeah , jaxxle thoughts ! he's not in my top three favorites ( those respectively go to caine and zooble ) but i still find him interesting to think about .

[cumironi]

I DARE YOU .ᐟ

BABYSITTER‘S PUNISHMENT : TOJI FUSHIGURO

when you tryna steal from toji to only end up getting fucked by him.

CONTENT WARNING : smut! toji, rough sex, spanking.

P.S this is from toji's pov

ever since my marriage fell apart, and my bitch of an ex-wife (pretend it's not megumi's mom) left me for some hunky personal trainer, I’ve been a little short-tempered. you see, we had built a home together and raised a beautiful son, megumi, who I love more than anything else in the world. we had a gorgeous house in the suburbs, complete with a swimming pool and a large garden with a playground for megumi to entertain himself. I couldn’t have asked for a better home to start a family. so when the aforementioned whore decided to destroy our family, my spirits were crushed and I started to lash out on everyone around me. my secretary at the office was the first to feel my wrath, as I blamed her for every little thing that went wrong, whether it was her fault or not. she was forgiving, though, and ignored my raging temper.

then, I started to shout at people while I was driving, frequently cursing other motorists and swerving erratically so I could make obscene hand gestures at them. I never lashed out at my daughter, I should add. no, she was the one thing that gave me joy in those dark times. a few months after the divorce proceedings, my wife’s ridiculous relationship with her new boyfriend imploded on itself and she came crawling back. I was having none of it and made sure she stayed away.

of course, with the bitch out of the picture I needed some help to look after Megumi whenever I worked late or had to attend meetings at weekends. Luckily, I managed to find a perfect babysitter whose situation suited all of my needs. She was free to work practically every evening and was able to pick up Megumi from school, take him home, feed him, and put him to bed before I even got back. It was an ideal arrangement, not just because of her seemingly constant availability, but because she was absolutely smoking hot. When I interviewed her for the position, I had to keep pulling my eyes away from her chest. Her juicy, round breasts were pressed up against the fabric of her shirt, and I’m pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra as I could see two prominent bumps at nipple height.

Her name was Y/n, and her cute smile and flowing hair instantly made the blood rush to my cock. I hired her on the spot, and ever since that day I reveled in the sight of her perky ass whenever I returned home. I could hardly believe my luck— she was stunning, she also got on very well with Megumi and seemed to be totally professional in her duties. However, my opinion of her changed somewhat when I discovered a truth about her that sent me into a rage.

It all happened one day when I was supposed to be working late. I had arranged for her to pick up Megumi as usual and I was set to return home around 10 P.M that night. y/n was totally obliging and supportive, and so the evening seemed to be set. As it turned out I finished work an hour earlier than I’d expected as the person I was supposed to be having a video conference call with didn’t show up. So, I headed home in a somewhat disgruntled and annoyed state. I pulled up at the front of the house, got out of the car, and walked up to the door.

My bedroom light seemed to be turned on, which was strange as I always made sure to turn lights off whenever I left a room— my OCD-like behavior was one of the things my ex-wife hated the most about me. I thought nothing of it and continued up the garden path to the front door. As I walked inside I looked into the living room and then the kitchen. There was no sign of y/n or Megumi, so I assumed that she was busy putting my son to bed. I walked around on my tip-toes for a while, removing my jacket while I got a drink of water from the tap.

Finally, I decided to go up and get changed, so I snuck up the stairs. Megumi’s bedroom door was slightly ajar, but his light was turned off. I thought maybe the lamp should have been on if y/n was in there. I looked at my bedroom door and again saw the light was turned on. I made my way to the door and pushed it open gently as the suspicion flooded my mind.

I peered inside and saw y/n’s ass wiggling around at me as she bent underneath the bed. She was rooting around for something, and when I saw her bag next to her with a small candle-stick holder poking out, I realized she was stealing things from my room. I was horrified that I had let such a criminal into my house and left her alone with my precious son.  However, the sight of her ass moving around turned my anger into something else. Within a matter of seconds, I could feel my cock getting harder.

She hadn’t noticed I was back yet, as her head was well and truly under the bed as she searched for items to plunder. I watched for a few seconds as the rage built inside me, and then stepped inside, closing the door shut as quietly as I could. I crouched behind her and watched for a moment, contemplating the best course of action. The blood was rushing out of my brain to my cock, though, so there was only really one thing on my mind. I knew exactly how to punish her.

”What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I said in a stern voice. She froze and then shuddered as she realised she had been caught. It must have been a massive shock to her system, as she didn’t say a word for what seemed like an eternity. I repeated myself, and then grabbed her feet and dragged her out from under the bed. She tried to claw the carpet to stop me but I was far too strong. As her head appeared from under the bed, she looked up at me with pleading eyes, no doubt presuming she could buy her way out of the situation with a suggestive wink and a squeeze of her breasts. Such leniency was most definitely not on the table, though. I grabbed her arms and pulled her up to her feet, and then turned her around and forced her up against the bed.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!“ she kept repeating, but I wasn’t listening.

“You think you can steal from me?” I scowled, pushing her back down on to the bed as she tried to stand up again. Her ass stuck out as she bent over the side of the bed and I continued “I’ll teach you not to steal from me!”

“What are you going to do with me?” she pleaded, but as she looked back she already knew what I had in mind for her. I kept her chest firmly pressed down on the duvet and raised my hand up above her ass, striking it down with a loud crash. She yelped in horror as I spanked her ass, but I kept going, slapping each cheek over and over again. She tried to push herself up, but I just pushed her back down. She kept resisting, so I grabbed her wrists and yanked them behind her back, holding them in place with one hand while I continued to spank the naughty bitch. She winced and groaned with every hit that thrashed across her ass, but I didn’t feel like she had nearly learned her lesson.

“Are you sorry?” I growled, finding myself getting more and more turned on by her whimpering. Her screams to be let go almost sounded sexual in nature, as if the spanking was turning her on more than it was hurting her.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she cried, repeating it after every strike that landed over her ass. My cock was rock hard and almost bulging from my trousers. Then I had a much better thought of how to punish her more effectively. I pulled her back up and stood her at the side of the bed, letting go of her arms as I wrapped mine around her chest, constraining her movement completely. She wiggled her body to loosen herself from my grasp, but my arms were far too strong. I ran my hands over her stomach, feeling the material of her vest top as I moved higher and higher towards her breasts.

Once again she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples were poking out firmly through her top. I groped at them and squeezed the warm, fleshy lumps in my fingers as she squirmed around in my arms. No doubt she could feel my massive, hard cock rubbing against her ass cheeks as I held her breathlessly close. I could smell the shampoo she had used to wash her hair that day, as the warmth of her body rose up from the top of her head. I was so turned on, I started to pinch her pert nipples and slap the sides of her tits. She cried out loudly, so I placed the palm of my hand over her mouth to silence her, and then moved it down to her neck and squeezed firmly and menacingly at her windpipe.

“Ssshhh!” I whispered as I continued to fondle her tits, digging my fingers into her skin as I enjoyed the feel of her supple mounds. She could feel my breath on her neck as I leaned in and stared down her cleavage, watching her delicious breasts wobbling around in my fingers. They truly felt fantastic, and I would have happily stayed there for hours playing with them, had it not been for her constant struggling.

“I’m not done with you yet!” I said as she tried to bolt for the door. I pulled her back, grasping at her waist as I pushed her back down on to the bed. She squealed for mercy as I climbed on top of her back, and then started to peel her top up over her head. I pulled her arms up and held them above her head while I pulled the vest up and discarded it on the floor. She lay on the bed with her arms wrapped under her chest, preserving her modesty. I wanted to see those juicy tits, though, so I rolled her on to her back and pulled her arms open to expose them.

They were even more beautiful in the flesh than I had imagined – perfectly round and just enough to fit in my hands. I held her down and started to fondle them some more, rolling my thumbs around her nipples and pinching them sharply as I pulled them away from her body. Then I began to slap them from side to side, and as I watched them repeatedly jiggling back into position, my cock became almost painfully hard. She spat in my face, with a small blob of saliva landing on the side of my cheek. I wiped it away carefully and stared gruffly in to her eyes, and then slapped her across the face.

She recoiled in horror, turning her head away for a moment before looking back at me. A tear formed in her eye, but she was clearly excited on a sexual level. She was fighting the urge to shoot me a wry, dirty smile. I slapped her again, firmer and faster that time and across the other cheek. I slapped her a few more times, making her cheeks red from the impact of my hands. Saliva spilled out over her face, and I let go of her body for a moment while I undid my tie.

She watched me remove it, trembling on the bed and glancing at the door to plan her escape route. She wasn’t going anywhere, though, and I rolled her on to her back again and forced her wrists together. I wrapped the tie around them, binding her arms securely so I could have some fun. I slowly removed my shirt as I watched her ass shuffling off the edge of the bed, and pressed my foot on to it to keep her from moving any further.

Her ears pricked up when she heard the jangle of my belt buckle as I unfastened it, removing my trousers and boxer shorts to free the enormous, throbbing cock within. With all of my clothes nestled in a small heap on the carpet, I crouched behind her and started to feel her ass through her tight jeans, smelling the crack and running my fingers in between her legs as she moaned lightly.

I couldn’t wait to see her bare ass, so I reached underneath her waist and unzipped the denim flaps, before yanking the jeans down her legs to reveal her sexy little thong. I pulled the jeans away, turning them inside out as they gripped to her legs. She remained huddled over the bed, and I leaned in and felt the warm skin as I pressed my lips up to her ass cheeks.

I gripped the sides of her thong and peeled it down her legs, allowing it to rest around her knees while I moved back up to play with her ass some more. She was still making the occasional move to get away, and each time she bolted I lashed a fresh smack over her now bare ass cheeks. Red hand marks started to form on the soft, delicate skin as I peeled them apart; exposing her tight little anus and her dripping wet labia below.

There was no doubt in my mind that she was gagging for it. I buried my face between her legs and began to lick passionately around her pussy, lapping up her juices as she groaned with pleasure. I continued to spank her, and every time I cracked my hands over her ass, she let out a fresh painful shriek. As I ate her out, I moved my hand up and started to massage her clitoris with my fingers, rubbing her flowing juices all over it as I flicked my tongue over her pulsating vulva.

I moved up and began to lick at her ass hole, prodding my tense tongue around the incredibly soft puckering rim. I lapped up and down her crack, pulling her cheeks as far apart as they would stretch and causing her anus to open up slightly. I spanked her again, even harder and she whimpered pathetically. Then I had a fantastic idea.

I untangled my belt from the waist of my trousers and looped it around. She looked back and gulped, bracing herself for what she knew was to come. I pressed her firmly down on to the bed, pushing her arms even tighter against her back, and then I thrashed her ass with the belt. A thunderous crack sounded out and echoed off the walls as she squealed in agony. I didn’t wait for the pain to subside, and immediately lashed her again and again. Her ass was red raw and started to turn purple as faint blotches of bruising appeared. I moved down and smacked it over the backs of her thighs, each impact sending a fresh set of ripples rolling over her flesh.

“Are you sorry? I don’t believe you!” I kept stating, not letting her answer. She could barely speak through her agonised groans, but her pussy was wetter than ever. I dropped the belt on the floor and positioned myself behind her ass. As the pain subsided, she started to sigh with relief. I pushed the head of my cock up to her pussy lips, rolling it up and down between them before plunging my rigid girth deep inside her.

She gasped and strained her neck out in front of her as she let out a loud, ecstatic moan. I started to thrust it in and out of her pussy, slowly at first as I coated it in her pussy juices, and then faster and harder as I became better lubricated. Her labia stretched around it nicely, contorting sideways as my penis passed through them. As I fucked her I continued to spank her ass, causing her to yelp in between her breathless panting. The sight of her arms bound behind her back had transformed me in to a wanton sex beast, and I didn’t care about anything other than fucking her as hard as I could. Every single other thought and consideration in my life was second to brutalising her and obliterating her pussy right there and then.

I pounded her as hard as I could, still bending her over the side of the bed. Her head rocked back and forth on the duvet helplessly under the force of my powerful thrusts, and she had given up trying to get away. She had become completely obedient and was accepting her punishment gracefully. I quickly tired of fucking her from behind though, and I desperately wanted to play with those glorious tits some more, so I flipped her over on to her back again.

She grimaced as her weight shifted, trapping her arms underneath her body. There wasn’t time to untie her, though. She would just have to get used it. I grabbed her throat and squeezed, choking her for a moment as I kissed her lips, stroking her tongue with mine and smelling her sweet candy breath. My cock was throbbing like crazy, so I pushed it back inside her pussy once again and instantly began to fuck her vigorously as she bounced up and down on the spring mattress.

The springs in the bed were creaking like crazy under the weight of our bodies. I grabbed her legs and placed them flat against my chest with her ankles behind my ears, and watched my cock sliding deep inside her over and over again while her amazing sweet tits bounced around atop her chest. I pressed her legs forward and reached down to slap her breasts again, and she screwed up her face with every strike that landed across her soft skin.

The sound of my skin slapping against hers was almost as loud as the spanking I had given her earlier. We were both sweating and writhing together as I pushed her further onto the bed with each thrust. My cock was buried entirely within her pussy, penetrating her all the way down to my balls as she groaned in uncontrollable pleasure. I doubt she had ever received such a strenuous fucking, but she was loving every second of it.

I spread her legs wide open and leaned down to kiss her neck passionately, smelling the hair under her ears as my moist lips pressed up to her skin. The sound of her panting in to my ear just turned me on even more, and after a minute or so I could hear the unmistakeable noise of an impending orgasm. She wheezed and cried out in ecstasy as her hips began to tremble, and then all of a sudden the extreme pleasure took hold of her and her eyes rolled into the back of her skull.

I continued to pound her even harder, relentlessly fucking her wet pussy as she squirmed with gratification on the bed. It was only when she came down from her breathless climax that I remembered I was supposed to be punishing her.

She went limp on the duvet and tried to catch her breath while I pressed her thighs up to her chest, exposing her insanely tight little ass hole. I didn’t want to have to keep struggling with her, so I took the belt and quickly wrapped around her legs, fastening it just under her knees and binding them up to her chest. She hadn’t even noticed what I was doing as she was still coping with the aftershocks of her intense climax.

I crouched in front of her ass again and pushed her cheeks slightly further open— they were already well parted by the position of her legs. Her vaginal muscles were still contracting and causing her labia to pucker up as I leaned in. I stretched out my tongue and licked over her anus once again, tasting the pussy juices as they flowed from her vulva and down through her ass crack.

Her cheeks were still red raw and burning with pain, but I continued to lightly spank them as I licked around her ass hole, prodding my tongue against her rim for a little while. I ran my finger around her pussy lips, lubricating it in her juices before pushing it through her sphincter. She tensed up as she finally realised what I was doing, and started to grimace and moan anxiously. I slid my finger inside her ass hole and pulled it out repeatedly, watching as her hole enclosed around it.

I stood up between her legs and rubbed the head of my cock around her quivering, wet vulva for a moment, coating it in a mixture of spit and her juices as I had done with my finger. I pushed my dick up to her ass hole and started to nudge it gently through the small opening. Her rim stretched around my cock as I pushed it through, expanding the soft ripples of her anus to a smooth, gaping hole.

The juices and saliva squelched out around the sides of my cock under the intense pressure of her tight anus as I started to thrust it in to her rectum, tunnelling my way deeper and deeper inside. With each insertion I was able to gain an extra quarter of an inch and after a minute or so of gruelling ass fucking I was burying my cock balls-deep in her colon. “Ah fuck, yes Toji— shit shit, ahh! fuck me like I'm a slut!” She started to scream loudly with each thrust that I slammed in to her ass, so I slapped her face again, sending a trail of saliva across the bed. She continued to groan noisily despite my defiant slapping, giving me no option but to silence her.

I reached down to the floor and picked up her thong, rolling it in to a tight ball as I jammed it between her jaws. She tried to clamp them together, but I squeezed firmly at her cheeks to pry them open and wedged the screwed up knickers between her teeth, holding my hand over her mouth and pressing her head back down to the bed as I continued to destroy her ass hole. I heard her trying to squeal in pain as my cock slid in and out of her anus, but the sound was nicely muffled by my makeshift gag.

I knew the ultra-tight young ass hole was going to make me cum soon, so I fucked her even harder and a few moments later I felt a great swell inside my balls. I moaned and stretched my neck, and she could see the veins protruding from the skin on my neck as I started to pump my hot, milky semen deep in to her ass hole. The orgasm seemed to last for hours and the cum shot out of my cock endlessly, oozing out between the sides of my shaft and the walls of her rectum.

I removed my penis from her ass and watched the thick, white fluid seeping out of her asshole. It was too hot of a moment not to get at least a souvenir, so I picked up my phone and took a few pictures of her hot, naked body and her obliterated pussy and ass hole.

“So, have you learned your lesson?” I asked, leaning over her exhausted body as I unstrapped the belt and freed her arms from behind her back. Her skin was marked with red lines from the various spankings and the force of being tied up so tightly. She laughed and said “I’ll have to steal from you again as I enjoyed the punishment,” she smiled sweetly.

“Good. So, same time tomorrow?” I said, helping her to stand up from the bed. Her legs were like jelly and barely supported her weight as she rose to her feet.

“Yes sir.” she said in a subdued but slightly naughty fashion. She tried to hide her smile as she reached for her clothes, but I caught it regardless. I was worried that I had lost a great babysitter, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Not only did I retain her as a babysitter, I gained her as a slave and that first encounter was just the tip of the iceberg.

[madameisaacpereire]

this senseless devotion

❝His eyes devour you bones and all while he speaks.

  The concept of this moment alone is indecent; a man in a suit staring you down as you sit naked before him, form obscured just barely by crystal clear water. The experience of it is nothing short of licentious. You feel primitive and simple.❞

The morning that follows 'if you want to touch something.'

sorry this took eons, hope some smut makes up for it!!!! lo said you'll like & she's the expert so. minors dni

the sparrow collection

   Your mouth is filled with nutty acidity when you wake to Camilla snoring beside you; red wine and ash. You push up to sitting and the world tips and rolls before you. Your throat is raw and dry, chest filled with cough— that’s what you get for smoking, you suppose— and your head throbs far worse than it did in those hours spent with Henry last night, now feeling as though your skull is crushing inward with blinding force; you need an ice-cream float, a toothbrush, and a hot bath. You need to change out of last night’s dress, most importantly. 

   Macaulays don’t throw up. A family mantra that you and Charles mentally recite like a prayer each time you become too drunk. It isn’t the least bit true, of course— you do throw up from drink, fairly easily at that. But it helps. It takes some time to gently coax the nausea back down your neck and throat, of course, but it does roll away just enough for you to slip out of bed.

   You fumble around for something to wear that doesn’t reek like liquor. All you manage to find is Camilla’s— Charles’s, really— cream pants and a soft blue button up that’s slightly too large for the both of you. Packing light has its downsides, so she’ll just have to forgive you. Searching for anything else in a state such as this would lead only to what little fresh clothes remain being soiled with vomit, a transgression far worse than borrowing clothes. You hug them to your chest and lumber toward the nearest bathroom.

  Most everyone is up already. You can hear Bunny’s voice booming from downstairs, saying something you can only decode as vaguely degrading toward homosexuals and women alike, and it’s met with a multitude of murmurs. Camilla and yourself appear to be the latest sleepers of the group. Hardly surprising. A typical morning at the country house, from what you’ve experienced thus far. You twist the bathroom door lock behind you and run a bath. Ice cream can wait, you’ve decided, but the silky smooth comfort of hot water cannot. 

   You peel yourself from your dress with little difficulty, despite the fact that the memory of Henry’s fingers zipping and unzipping this same zipper roughly seven hours ago plays on loop in your mind. Many parts do: your lips pressed sweet against his cheek, the feeling of his hands pressed against your pelvis, each and every time you heard his breath waver. You feel hot all over, even before you’ve stepped into the bath.

    The water soothes your hangover as you sink in, up to your shoulders. It wraps around you like a heated blanket or a hug, and is so warm that it sticks your hair to your cheeks and forehead with sweat almost instantly. It’s heavenly. You rest until it’s too uncomfortable to do so any longer, and then you begin to wash up.

   A knock on the bathroom door interrupts you when you’ve almost finished.

   “I’ll be out in a second!” You call out, reaching for the rubber bath-stopper. 

   “It’s me.” 

   Henry. You freeze.  

   “Did you need something?” Your voice bounces off the bathroom walls, a light echo.

   It’s his turn to pause. 

“Do you mind if I come in?”

   Water laps at your skin as you climb out and unlock the door with a click. You slip back into the bath then, half wishing you’d thought to add bubbles. A facade of modesty. You pull your knees up to your chest, concealing what you're sure he’d most like to see from view.

   “You can come in.” 

  Nothing. And then, the doorknob turns, and there he is. He looks far better than you suspect that you do, as fine pressed and expertly curated as usual. Not a hair out of place. You envy his ability to look so perfect, so put together, at all times. His gaze falls to you without effort, pinning you in place as he steps in and locks the door behind him. Today, his eyes are so cold they elicit gooseflesh from all the way across the room.

   “Well?” Your voice comes out raw and wrecked, wobbly as a colt. 

   He’s quiet, contemplative as his eyes trace over you as though you’re an exhibit in a museum, on display just for him, wrapped in an ornate gilded frame; as though you’re splayed out on canvas, body filled with birdshot, skin dripping with black blood. His caged prey. You don’t allow your eyes to wander down the way they want to, to take in the full sight of him, to see what you know is becoming visible through his slacks. It’ll only make the ache that burns beneath your skin that much worse, which feels impossible enough as it is.

   Your throat sticks together as you try to swallow down the sudden burst of electric activity ricocheting through your being, and your nausea and crushing headache drift into the mist of your mind. You hope to God you aren’t shaking noticeably, but with the way bathwater ripples around your skin— red as a crustacean who sits in a large steel pot, blissfully unaware of its impending demise, boiling to death— you know your body is betraying you.

  “You slept late, didn’t you?” His eyes devour you bones and all while he speaks.

  The concept of this moment alone is indecent; a man in a suit staring you down as you sit naked before him, form obscured just barely by crystal clear water. The experience of it is nothing short of licentious. You feel primitive and simple, spit welling up in your cheeks. You nod in response because there’s nothing else you trust yourself to do in this moment. The corner of his mouth quirks up just so. 

   He crosses the bathroom in two short steps and leans down, resting his hands on the cool porcelain ledge of the tub. Your eyes are glued to the shape of his fingers, thick, long, and well kept as they are. A flutter ripples down your chest, through to the base of your spine, and stretches its way into the pleasantly warm ache between your thighs. 

   He hovers just over you in a perfect imitation of sweetness— as though you’ve awoken from a fainting spell to find him guiding you through the river into earthly paradise. This holy river-water erases the memory of every jealous thought you’ve had regarding him, and strengthens those of his touch until you feel every moment spent above and below him as acutely as if it’s happening now. Your eyes flicker upward to meet his. 

   His amusement seems to grow as he stares, gaze pressing on every last piece of exposed skin like a kiss. A fresh bout of goosebumps break out as your breath hitches. Fond pity twists across his face, fingers of one hand stretching up off the tub-side to graze your knee cap. There’s a challenge in this, buried deep somewhere. He’s pushing again, testing the boundaries you were bred not to have. His hand closes over your kneecap for a moment, firmly spreading your thighs apart before he moves a wet strand of hair out of your eyes and settles it behind your ear.

     “You’ve been incredibly sweet toward me of late, darling little bird,” He muses, parting your lips with his thumb, “I do hope you aren’t misinterpreting my affections.” 

   His words land on your back like a divine boulder— not heavy enough to kill, yet heavy enough to press your knees deep into your chest cavity until you’ve supplicated a satisfactory amount— but you don’t look away. You instead allow him to work his thumb further into your mouth, until his nail is resting against your soft palate, and you close your lips around him firmly. Your tongue flattens and curves against his finger. Probing. Teasing. The want this draws into his eyes is enough to soothe the lashing of his words, at least for now. His jaw tenses as you begin to suck. There is no longer any pretense of conversation. 

   “Huc est mens deducta tua, mea Lesbia, culpa atque ita se officio perdidit ipsa suo.” He murmurs.

   He’s quoting from a poem Camilla had dramatically recited last night. An ancient collection, translated by Peter Whigham— you remember as much, because Henry complained about it for nearly twenty minutes— and you remember, dimly, how the translator had rendered it. ‘Reason blinded by sin, Lesbia, a mind drowned by his own devotion.’

   You know, of course, that his devotion is to the carnal in this case. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it, yet you allow yourself to pray that you aren’t alone in this affliction. This senseless devotion. Even though you are. You must be. He pulls his thumb from your mouth with a satisfying ‘pop,’ smearing saliva down your chin. 

     “What do you want?” You ask, voice soft and breathless. 

   His eyes dip back down to your mouth, eyes studying the curve of your lips. You watch a light flush dust his cheekbones and shade in the place you pressed a chaste kiss to hours ago. This would translate well to watercolor, you think, or charcoal pencil. Henry, eyes blown out, face hot, moments away from slotting your lips together. When his eyes meet yours once more, he speaks. 

   “Your mouth.”

  It’s two words. Short, businesslike even. An eager whimper creeps into the back of your throat. Your cheeks burn so hot that your eyes begin to feel like hailstones cradled by molten lava. You don’t know that you’ve ever wanted something more than you want this. To blow him.

   “Okay.” You nod, eyes wide and earnest. 

    He leans closer, presses a quick kiss to your lips, and pushes himself back up to standing. You allow your legs to disappear beneath you, wet chest on full display as you rise up onto your knees. The water is cool by now. You don’t mind. You curve your fingers over the edge of the bathtub, still faintly warm from Henry’s hands.

   “Sparrow?” He draws your attention away from the hands that are so deftly unfastening his pants, “Don’t get my clothes wet.”

   “Wouldn’t dream of it.” You mean to sound sardonic. Your words come out bubble wrapped in deference instead.

   He pretends not to notice as he frees himself from the confines of his clothing, taking himself in his hand. He’s swollen red and leaking like you get him going without trying, as if he exists in a permanent state of arousal when beneath the same roof as you. You reach out and replace his hand with your own, careful not to let water splash against him. A sigh graces your ears as you guide him into your mouth and continue the treatment you gave his thumb moments earlier. 

  He’s heavy and hot against your tongue. He tastes like salt and skin, and a little like you. You bob your head forward and back, mindful not to disrupt your forgotten bath, eyes fixed upward. Henry’s expression is strained, cheeks bright red, lips pressed shut with force. His hand clenches and unclenches beside your head, refusing to grip onto your hair until you’ve permitted it. Unfailingly polite, even as you’re loosening his limbs.

    With your free hand you clumsily nudge his hand into your hair, encouraging him to guide you against him as he sees fit. A desperate noise tugs itself from his throat as you press him down into your throat at his will, allowing him to fuck into your mouth as hard and deep as he’d like. You moan around him softly at that, do your best not to gag.

   His eyes squeeze shut, hands shaking as his hips sway, and his head tips back. It’s a sight so sinful urgency strikes into the need you feel. Ardor uncurls itself all the way up into your ribcage, desperate for his touch. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows down groans, hypnotized by the sight of him. Big, strong Henry Winter, the unfeeling stoic of the group, blissed out and pulsing in your mouth. 

   You could bring him down this way, it occurs to you. Cut his hair and allow black death to swallow both of you beneath the rubble of this makeshift temple. His hips jerk harder, waking your headache and nausea in one go. Bile rises up your throat and you swallow it down, unavoidably swallowing around him at the same time. A whimper. He spills hot down your throat, hips bucking wildly until it’s over. You swallow that down too, greedily taking a piece of him to keep with you once he’s gone.

   You hold onto the tub-side like a lifeline, eyes never leaving his face. You want to remember how it looks from here, record every sight and sensation sucking him off incites. When he’s finished, pulled from your mouth, he hunches over to catch his breath. His large hands bookend yours in a way far too intimate for this. His glasses slip down his face, lips parted ever so slightly. 

   “Filthy little bird,” He breathes out once he’s come back to himself, “Who knew you were so depraved?” 

   You don’t think this needs an answer. Even so, a sticky smile spreads across your cheeks like jam on toast. It’s a perverse badge of honor, earning a reaction like this. One you privately wear with pride. You still want him, need him more than you think you’ve ever needed anyone. But when you lift your lips up to meet his, he dodges your kiss. He straightens up instead and begins to put himself back together.

    You watch him in silence. A striking, sickening truth sinks back into your bones, etching itself deep into each one. You are not special, after all. Not to him. Not to anyone. Not really. It aches, even though you’ve never had any illusion that you were the only one; that this was real. On the contrary— there’s nothing you might be able to defend as “real,” and you know that. But you continue to follow along anyway because it’s more fun this way, because you like hurting, because you have nothing more amusing to do this summer. 

   You wonder if he feels things. Not corporeal sensations, but real human emotion. You don’t think he really does, not the way you do. Yet you can’t help but hope, foolish and falsely, that you’ll earn a place next to him. That you’ll take over for Camilla, somehow, and become the special one for once. You aren’t even sure, not entirely, that you’d want to, given the chance. He is not yours, yet you still feel as though he is, in part. Like he belongs to you in some small way. Perhaps it’s the hangover, or the summer heat. 

    “Thank you, I appreciate it.” Henry speaks as he pulls the medicine cabinet open and rifles around in it. He must be looking for aspirin.

   “Yeah.” You croak out, slipping off your knees.

    He isn’t going to touch you at all, you realize. Tears of frustration needle at the backs of your eyes and shame twists into your chest, alongside something weaker, something you wish you didn’t recognize. You are empty, both physically and emotionally. He’s being unfair. Cruel in a way you haven’t yet allowed yourself to think of him, and above all else, selfish. You feel used because you have been used, and it doesn’t feel okay this time. Still you say nothing.

   He dry swallows a small handful of aspirin, fixes his hair once more, and draws out his pack of cigarettes. The matchbook he uses is yellow. In artwork yellow represents many things— cheer, warmth, confidence, and happiness, to name a few— but your favorite meanings are less often considered. Deception and cowardice, greed. It’s fitting.

   “Richard made coffee, when you’re done in here.” Smoke curls from his mouth as he speaks.

   “Save me a cup?” 

  He nods once in your direction, silently agreeing to do as much. And this is enough tenderness that you let it go. You forgive him for being selfish and flash him a smile. His eyes trace your form one last time before he slips out, leaving the door unlocked behind him. Your fingers are pruned up and the water is cold, so this hardly bothers you. 

   You let the water out of the tub and take a deep breath in preparation for the rest of the day. 

[mangledmang0]

I am so convinced Jack is pulling a Post Explosion!Lunar (post-Monty Plea💥!Lunar) right now and running from his problems, bc theres NO WAY he;  Got infected with a PAINFUL virus, got kidnapped, trapped in his own head, forced to murder people (including children+parents in front of THIER FAMILIES), was surrounded by insane people 24/7, was treated like an object for months on end, probably got experimented on for the creator to test out weapons he wanted to add to Jack, was incredibly close to being dragged to space and would be forced to fight until he died in battle, and possibly A LOT MORE THINGS, and yet bounced back literally instantly. there’s no way. 

Jack knows he’s a burden, and he doesn’t want to add to that by having everyone else worry about his mental state. he’s supposed to be the happiest in the room, the dumb child who only knows how to cause laughter and headaches, not have people worry about him. so he has to pretend.

His dad is stressed with fixing him, Sun and Moon are worrying about Nexus, Monty doesn’t like him, Earth rarely acknowledges him, Dazzle doesn’t like him, Lunar is in space and doesn’t acknowledge him, Molten doesn’t know much about feelings nor how to keep a secret, and Jaq and Jackie don’t seem to fully grasp the extent of sadness— he has no one to turn too. He’s backed into a corner and decides that keeping quiet is the best option.

Anyway, a few headcannons for post-infection!Jack

Jack has shown he’s pretty insecure, and he’d also mentioned he accidentally hurt a homeless person because they startled him, so i think it’s pretty reasonable that jack may have a fear of hurting dazzle. so, i say he’d probably avoid dazzle at all costs, even if after she forgives him, just in case the infection starts back up again and he hurts her.

The house has a lake nearby (visible from the back porch). it’s been his safe spot since he was cured. it’s close enough to the house that anyone can check on him without even touching the backyard, so what’s the harm in it?

Sometimes he’ll go under the surface of the lake: it sorta feels like a weighted blanket, just all around you while all you can hear is the water swishing.

Jack wasn’t very close to Moon even before the infection, but now? he avoids talking to him directly, and instead lets other people take the lead when Moon starts speaking. (Yes, this is adding to the JackIsJonathan theory—leave me alone)

He’s developed harmful eating habits. He goes long periods without food, then binges them when he has a panic attack/breakdown. He steals sponges and other items he was known for eating to make it seem like he is, but he just stashes them away somewhere until he has another binging session when he freaks out (then he feels incredibly guilty and goes back to not eating)

btw Jack 100% has pica (an ED that causes people to crave and consume items that are not supposed to be digested)

edit: he probably wasn’t around the sweetest looking people either. have you SEEN the beast? horrifying. and it came from EARTH. imagine what the other dark stars and their soldiers looked like? i can’t imagine they’d look anything short of a monster from your literal nightmares.

[varpusvaras]

Fox is dead.

He knows he is. His life hadn't been over instantly when his body had been suddenly and violently grabbed and twisted beyond what he could take. He had lied there, after, for a moment longer, knowing nothing but pain and the sinking feeling that he was dying.

He is here, now, not where his body had been left to die, but somewhere else. Somewhere he does not recognise, but knows, still, almost instinctually.

It looks like a grand hall with golden rivers and silver skies, so large that he cannot see how far the walls actually go. He tries to see, but everything is simply too far away.

There are others around him. Fox can see them and hear them moving around, walking past him, stepping around him like they don't see him but still know he is there.

Fox tries to look at some of them. He can see faces, so, so many of them, and if he focuses long enough on one of them, he can see it more clearly for a second, but no more. It is like they are far away from him as well, too far away for him to actually see them.

He watches as they go. They all follow the rivers, each a different one, disappearing somewhere alongside them after a while. Fox knows, somehow, that he is supposed to also follow one of the rivers to somewhere, wherever it may lead him to.

He hears one of them, faintly, if he listens very carefully. It's like the river wants him to follow, but cannot make him do so. Fox also wants to follow, but cannot make himself do so.

He knows the reason as well. He knows that he has done mistakes. Many of them. So, so many of them. He knows some of those mistakes have been too grave for his brothers to forgive.

Fox knows he is not welcome anymore.

The river sighs, and then flows away from him.

Fox stands there, and watches as faces he cannot see walk past him and disappear.

---

He waits.

It is the only thing he can do, after all. Wait.

It's a strange thing, waiting there. Every time he looks somewhere and watches someone, and then looks away for what feels even barely a second, there is already someone else there in their place. He needs to not forget himself, if he wants to not get lost there. He figures that out pretty quickly.

It's cold, there. The rivers look warm and the skies look clear, but Fox cannot feel them. He cannot feel anyone walking past him. They are there, just like he is, but at the same time, it is like they are existing on parallel realities, and only getting a glimpse of what is going on behind the glass that separates them.

Perhaps it's just Fox who sees them. Perhaps no one else sees him.

He tries not to think about that too much.

---

There are a lot of brothers walking around him.

Fox can see their faces clearly. They do notice him too. Many walk towards him, if they see him, and some of them speak to him, if they get close enough.

Fox wonders if they notice him because the Force recognises them as the same, or at least close enough. If the Force recognises them as kin, even when Fox has been casted aside.

His brothers want him to come with them. They can still hear the river, calling them, guiding them forward to somewhere they are meant to go. His brothers try to take his hands and take him with them. Fox had not expected that, if he is being completely honest. He would understand it, if the others were thinking that he was just any brother.

But no. Some of them do recognise him, and still reach for him, even if they are not wearing the Guard red.

"Of course you can come with", one brother in 212th gold tells him. "The Commander always spoke very fondly of you. You are our brother. Of course you can come with us."

He reaches for Fox, and he makes contact, and even when his hand is warm, Fox's legs are stuck on the ground.

The brother looks at Fox with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry", he says. "You are our brother."

"I know", Fox tells him. "I know. Can you say hi to everyone for me?"

"Of course", his brother tells him, and then follows the river away from Fox.

---

The Guards, once they figure out that Fox cannot follow them, want to stay with him.

"You are our Commander", they all tell him. "We're not going to leave you here alone!"

They stay, all of them, as long as they are able to. They hold onto him, like Fox is their anchor, the only thing keeping them from drifting away with the river.

Fox lets them stay with him, for a while, but eventually he tells all of them to go.

"Don't worry", he tells them. "Others will come along. I'll be fine. Say hello to everyone for me, alright? Go now. I'll be fine."

There is always resisting, but eventually, they do leave. They have to. The river is guiding them forward, and they have to follow it. Fox cannot hear the river, and his brothers cannot guide him themselves to it.

Fox stands there, and watches them leave.

---

Stone is the first one to arrive after Fox.

It's strange, to look at him. He looks both like the Stone Fox remembers, and like Stone Fox doesn't quite recognise, Stone who is slightly older and has a new scar across his face.

It's still Stone, though.

Stone stays with him for a long, long time.

But eventually, he leaves as well.

"I'll be fine", Fox says, for the hundreth time. "Say hi to Thorn for me."

"I will", Stone promises. "I will."

---

After Stone comes Hound. He stays for a long time as well, and promises to say hello to Thorn and Stone.

After Hound comes Bly.

Bly puts his arms around Fox and holds him.

"It's not fair", he says, again and again. "It's not fair, this isn't how any of this is supposed to go! It doesn't matter if someone has called you a Dar'vod, you are my brother! That should matter more!"

"I know", Fox says.

"Why are you so calm about this?" Bly asks him. "You are stuck here! You should be with all of us!"

"Bly, please", Fox says. "I can't. Please don't...please don't remind me too much. Please don't."

Bly goes quiet. He still holds onto Fox for a long time.

Eventually, he has to let go.

"It's okay", Fox promises him. "Say hi to Ponds for me."

---

Thire comes last.

Fox knows more time has passed now. It's strange, to look at Thire, and see his youngest brother there, but also someone who is a lot older than Fox ever got to be now.

He looks a lot like Prime before he died, Fox thinks, but doesn't say it out loud.

He also thinks it's a good thing Thire looks so much older than Fox. Fox knows he wouldn't have been able to endure his little brother dying young like Fox had.

"We have a chance", Thire tells him. "There are a lot of people standing against the Empire. Bail and Breha are with them."

Fox almost starts crying then and there. It's been- he doesn't even know how long it has been since someone has said those names to him.

"They're," Fox swallows, and tries again, "they're alright?"

"Yes", Thire says. "They are. I let them take your body, you know? You're there with them."

It's strange, to think about what happened to him after his death. Fox has been here the whole time, not there.

He guesses whatever was left of him there was what was left of him to everyone else, as well.

Fox thinks about it for a while, and then turns back to Thire.

"What else has been going on?" He asks, because he already knows that Thire is going to be staying for a while.

So Thire stays, and he tells his stories, until he has nothing else to say.

He promises, like all of Fox's brothers before him, to say hi to everyone for him. He hugs Fox for a long while, before he finally lets go.

Fox watches him leave for as long as he can.

---

The Galaxy is big, and there is always someone dying.

Fox has accepted that to be just the inevitable way of life. Everyone and everything dies eventually, even the stars. He thinks he had heard that from someone while he was still alive.

Still, some deaths are more tragic than others. Some deaths are ones that Fox thinks shouldn't have happened, not at least in the way that they did, no matter the inevitable nature of death itself.

He has seen it all pretty much, by now. Many people have been crying when walking past him, but as far as Fox has seen, they have all always dried their tears before they disappear with their rivers. He has seen anger and despair, both in a way that suits normal lives and in a way that he recognises to suit lives that are ended by the brutality of war. They all seem to always get past it, though, before they continue their journey past where he cannot see them anymore.

Fox has learned that it is normal for there to be a lot of people around him, and for them to be in distress.

But still, he knows something is wrong.

Maybe it's the way the people just seem to appear, all of a sudden, all at once, instead of coming in many rivulets. Maybe it's in the way that people are now moving. Many are still walking towards, around and past him, like they usually do, but many, too many, way too many, are running around, shouting and screaming names, searching for faces with desperation and grief written all over their own, whenever Fox gets to look at them for long enough.

It feels less like a river now, flowing towards their ends, but like a wild rapids, like rogue waves being pushed around against shores that are too small and tight for them.

Fox looks at them more closely.

He has seen it all, by now. Adults, elderly, teenagers, even children. People die at all ages all the time.

But this? There are so many of them, searching for each other. All of them are crying. He sees so many small children, healthy looking, yelling for their parents, for their siblings, friends, anyone, and just as many adults doing the same, searching for their children and parents and anyone they know, and they just keep coming.

Fox tries to look at them, tries to listen at them for long enough to figure out what is going on, but it's even more difficult now, when there are so many faces and voices around him. Something terrible, he can tell, because there seems to be no end for them, and whenever he gets to hear more than one word from any of them, they all sound the same, like they all speak the same language in the same way.

Fox doesn't understand how that can be. How can this many people die like this, all seemingly at once, in one place? He has seen war before, but even the largest massacres had been nothing like this.

He listens to them more, and there is now something familiar in the way they all talk, in a way that suddenly makes Fox go cold, like he was dying himself all over again.

He knows it. He knows the way they are all speaking, he has listened to that very same way of speech so many times.

Suddenly Fox understands everyone around him searching and screaming very well, because he is doing the same now.

Not screaming yet, but definitely searching. He tries to look at all the faces, to see if he sees them, and he prays to something, anything, everything, that he doesn't find what he is looking for.

He doesn't need to look into the faces of people around him to see them, eventually, because in the sea of faces and voices on the other side of a misty window, he sees two more than clearly.

Fox understands the grief in everyone's faces now too.

He is definitely screaming, now.

No words at first, no. Just a sound that makes its way out of him without him being able to control it at all. He sees them hear it, because they stop, and they start to look around, their eyes searching the people around them.

Fox hasn't had to breathe in a long, long time, but now he feels like he is out of air anyway. He drags his voice back in, and pushes it back in where it can be formed into words, and he screams again.

"Breha!" His voice is tearing up at its invisible seams. "Bail!"

He looks at them, and that's the moment they look at him and see him, standing there, in the same place where he has been standing his whole time there.

Fox watches as they start running as well, still looking at him, and then they are there, and Bail is just a little bit closer and throws his arms around him.

Fox stumbles, his legs ripping away from the ground. He doesn't get to wonder about it for too long, because Bail is holding him now. He is warm, just the way Fox achingly clearly remembers him to be, and then Breha is there as well, her arms going between Bail's to hold onto Fox just as tight.

They all stand there, for a moment which length Fox cannot measure, in each others arms.

Breha is the first one to speak.

"Fox", she says, in a way she always used to say his name, and Fox is barely able to keep the tears that have sprung into his eyes from falling.

Her hand reaches up and touches his jaw and then his cheek.

"Fox", Bail says then, as well, and Fox cannot hold it in anymore.

He cries.

He is pretty sure they are all crying.

There is another hand on his face, now, both of them wiping away the tears still falling down.

"Fox", Breha calls him again. "Fox, my love, our love. Look at me."

What else can Fox do, than to do as she asks of him?

It is Breha and Bail, standing there, just like he remembers them, but not quite. When Fox blinks, there are definitely grey streaks in Bail's beard and hair, and there is a long, silvery strand framing Breha's face. More lines around their eyes when Fox looks closer, ones he doesn't remember seeing there before.

It doesn't matter to him, not really. He knows them, still.

It's a strange mix of emotions he is feeling. Relief, of finally seeing them again. Happiness, brought by being held by them again.

Sorrow, for seeing them both there, emerging from the chaos of grief, knowing that they are here with him now, because they are both dead.

"Why?" He asks, because he doesn't know what else to ask. It's one word, but they understand it still.

The same grief is on their faces as well.

"The Empire", Bail starts, and pauses for a moment, like speaking pains him, "has figured out how to build weapons of mass destruction beyond anything we could've imagined. We've been fighting against them for a long time now, and...we finally got caught. Alderaan is no more."

"I don't understand", Fox says. "That doesn't make any sense."

Except it does, in a sense that it explains why there were so many of them all of a sudden, all frightened, like they hadn't had any time to prepare for their deaths. But it doesn't, because Fox cannot, will not believe that there is a weapon that can make a whole planet and everyone on it disappear.

"I know", Breha says, soothing, like she isn't the one who has just lost her own life and everything else. "It's not all lost. Our daughter, she's out there. She has the key to stopping them."

"She will do it", Bail says, and he sounds proud, so proud. "She will. We know she will."

Fox believes them when they say it.

"Of course she will", he says. "She is your daughter, after all. If she is anything like you, she can do anything."

They look at him gently, then.

"Our daughter", Breha repeats. "Our daughter. Just because you weren't there doesn't mean she is any less yours. She carries you with her as much as we did."

"She takes after you very much as well", Bail says, and there is a sparkle in his eyes again as he speaks. "Determined and strong, just like you."

Fox cries again. They don't rush him to stop, just stay there with him and hold him until everything has been spent.

"I wish I would've known her", Fox says. "I wish I would've been there."

"We wish so too", Bail says. "There wasn't a day we didn't wish that you were with us still."

"But you are now", Breha says, brushing her fingers softly over the skin under Fox's eye. "You are with us again. We have all the time now to tell you everything."

That is the moment Fox remembers that he can move again.

He has to make sure. He lifts one leg, and takes half a step back, and then makes the other leg follow.

He can move, but he still cannot hear the river.

"I would love that", he says. "But I...I don't know where to go."

"Don't worry", Bail says. He reaches for Fox's hand, and takes it into his, firmly and securely. "We know. We'll show you."

Breha laces her fingers with Fox's as well, tying herself to him like a safety line on the outside of a ship. They turn to face the golden rivers, meandering towards their ends under the silver skies, and they take Fox with them.

[useeer]

Dance with me?

Venture, aka Sloan Cameron x reader

You're at your friends wedding, and somehow meet the cutest damn person in the world.

Tags: fluff, strong language, slight sexual innuendo

Enjoy!!

[Note: I haven't written a fic in 192739 yrs, and my ass hasn't been to a wedding since I was 10 so forgive my ignorance abt how they go!!]

You weren't exactly a party person.

Parties are loud, crowded and really socially taxing. While yes, you'd attend parties here and there; mostly birthdays or accomplishments for friends and family. It still wasn't your favorite thing to do. You are actually pretty upfront with others about how little social interaction you can handle. That being said... fear of disappointing your friends usually got the better of you. They were fine, partying was fun. 

Honestly, you'd be lying to everyone if you said you weren't thinking about your soft, cozy bed. Or how you were daydreaming about cuddling up to your pets and watching silly videos. Not even this beautiful wedding could curb your introvert nature.

It's evening now, the golden rays barely peeking over the horizon as it descends. A sweet, cool autumn breeze blows, ruffling your clothes and hair. A welcome comfort on this warm night.

The setting is truly beautiful. Soft, golden glowing lanterns are strung along the edges of the venue. Lush green plants in decorative pots line the edges. The pillars, stone and brick, are painted in the gentle glow of the lamps and lanterns. The style...is Greek? At least you think it's Greek. If someone told you otherwise, though, you'd take their word for it. Especially since half the people here are from the Wayfinder Society, all attending as friends of the groom. The wayfinders are sprinkled around the venue, chatting about and having a grand old time.

You? No such luck, you're only attending for your friend, who happens to be the other groom. While you know a handful of people, and did polite chit chat with them, you mostly stuck to yourself. Actually, that's a lie, you mostly stuck to the snack table. You're leaning by the side of it, plate in hand, trying just about anything there. I mean, what else are you supposed to do? 

While eating a particularly good cube of cheese, you let your eyes wander the room. You see a group of people laughing, another group chattering amongst themselves, one enthusiastically waving their hands in the air, seemingly very passionate about the subject. You snort, amused. Drifting eyes finally move over to the husbands, who were talking to an older couple, a quick hug is given here and there. 

Man. You were bored.

You weren't trying to be disrespectful here, you just didn't know anyone. Subconsciously, your leg starts bouncing, your thoughts dance to your fluffy, comfy bed. Reaching down for another snack on your plate, you’re disappointed to see they're all gone. Frowning a bit, you look over the table to see if there's anything else you'd like to try.

And boy, was there. The chocolate hair, the hazel skin, your eyes instantly locked onto the person plating their own food. They're dressed in a white button down, and black slacks, the sleeves of their dress shirt hugging them favorably. They even had a cute little yellow bowtie on. You couldn't tell their pronouns, so you figure you'd ask if you ever spoke. Which you weren't, you didn't want to intrude. They looked to be the same person absolutely raving earlier, you'd hate to keep them from it.

If they wanna speak to me, they will. You thought distantly, watching their hands as they pluck up a cupcake. 

Workers' hands. You mused, they seemed rough, and strong. They must be one of those Wayfinders. Your eyes trail their fingers, the back of their hand, man...they have really nice hands. Unbeknownst to you, your staring hasn't gone unnoticed. Their hands stills, just before the confectionery hits the plate. 

"Uhm... did you want this one?" They ask someone, curious, you look up to see who they're talking to. You finally get to see their face properly, and man they're gorgeous. Too bad you didn't have time to appreciate that fact, as your eyes instantly locked with theirs. You realize a little too late that you're the one they're talking to.

"Huh." Is all you manage to get out, unsure what the fuck to say to this stranger.

"The...cupcake?" They say, motioning it towards you. "Did you want it? You're staring at it like you want it." They say, clearly confused by the way you ogled their food.

"No- no I don't want it. I'm so sorry, ignore me." You cover your face and wave a hand in their direction, this is the worst thing you've ever done. Your face and ears burn in red hot embarrassment, you're just lucky they thought all you wanted was the damn cupcake.

They seem to find it a little funny now, how you're running away from the cupcake you were practically stalking as it left the platter. "Okayyyy, well then this is mine!" They joke, putting it onto their plate before strutting away, seemingly unperturbed by your god awful screw up.

God, you needed to sit down. 

You're practically on fire, feeling like you're gonna break into a sweat. Shakily, you find a chair in a less populated area and take a seat. You bend over, putting your face in your hands and elbows on your knees, as if trying to hide yourself. While you know, reasonably, that this isn't the end of the world, you can't help but feel like it is. You got caught! Red handed! 

Yes, they thought it was the cupcake, so maybe you weren't totally fucked. But also, you're totally fucked who are you kidding?!

You didn't exactly think you'd interact with them before, but it's awful your only interaction was weird and unseemly on your end. Groaning quietly, you remove one hand from your face to fan yourself, damn you feel stupid. 

You fan open part of your outfit, hoping in vain to let more air in to cool yourself down. Freaking out like this isn't a good look. After a couple minutes, you start to feel a little better. The flush of your cheeks is fading, and you miraculously avoided breaking into an anxious sweat. 

Sighing, you puff out your lips, you just sent texts to your closest friend about how massively you fumbled the bag. They laughed at you, while you scream-spammed the chat in horror. They did end up reassuring you that you were overreacting, that it was not in fact the end of the world. You thanked them before turning off your phone. You get up, dust yourself off a little before wandering back to the food table; finding yourself in front of the disposable drink cups, grabbing one. Gazing to the left, you find the water. You watch the water slowly drizzle into your cup, before downing the glass in a couple large gulps. Still thirsty, you fill it up again before returning to your seat.

Man, what a day, go to a beautiful wedding, see your friend get married, then fumble the biggest bag ever. You mentally kick yourself, even though on the outside, you look completely normal, sipping on your cup naturally.

Bouncing your foot a bit, you lean forward to scroll on your phone, hoping to find something interesting to pass the time and distract you. You're scrolling for about 5 minutes before someone sits next to you. Out of politeness you don't look, thinking it's another guest needing a seat. 

"Soo, about that cupcake. I ate it, definitely. But I felt a little bad. Here." The person next to you says, snapping you out of your doom scrolling. 

Why. Why why why. Is all you can think. They're fucking with you, haunting you. All over a cupcake. You look over and see they've got a small plate with another damn cupcake on it.

"Oh im- I'm not hungry anymore, thanks though." You try to nicely deflect, hoping they'll catch the hint and let you die in shame, alone. 

"Hmm, okay!" They say, they turn to face forward, unwrapping it for themself. They take a bite and bounce one of their legs, and you wonder why they're torturing you. They hum to themself as they continue to eat.

God. Please just go away...

They put their plate down and dust their hands, somehow already finishing the sickeningly sweet treat. "So." They state, placing both hands on either side of their seat, leaning forward, looking towards you. "Whatcha doing over here all by yourself?" They ask curiously.

"Well uh-" You clear your throat, "My friend’s the groom, it's his wedding. But I don't really know anyone else but him." You shrug, trying to relax and ease into conversation with them.

"Yeah, know how that feels." They say, sympathetically. "Wellll." They draw out the word, as if to emphasize it. "I was thinkin’ you could come to our table! I hate seeing anyone left out." Their smile is reassuring, until they start smirking. "Even. If. They stare at other people's food." 

Ok, you can't help it. You groan at their jab, while dragging a hand down your face. "Man, you will not drop that, huh?" You say, only a little less embarrassed this time. 

"Nope!" They tease, clearly getting a kick outta this. 

"You know what, I barely know you and you're already the worst." You joke, and your brain nearly breaks in two when they giggle at it. Their shoulders shake and they grin, still looking at you. You can't help but smile, even while trying really hard not to. They were stunning, cute and worst of all, infuriating. 

"Sorry for staring earlier...I was trying to see... your cufflinks." You say, clearly lying. As if desperately attempting to get out of the cupcake joke jail.

"Hmmm." They hum, unbelieving, eyebrows raised and nodding. "Well, too bad I don't have those." They smile, raising a hand up to show off their sleeve. 

You instantly cringe, caught once again. "Oh right." You mumble out, pursing your lips. Damn, you're fighting for your fucking life over here.

Your reaction makes them laugh. An honest to god laugh, and it's loud. They're finding WAY too much amusement in proving you wrong and you don't know why. Despite the embarrassment, you were now enjoying yourself. Talking to them, joking around, even if it's at your expense. Their laugh is almost contagious, and they've got the prettiest smile you've ever seen. 

"So.. what's your name?" You ask, your left hand fiddling anxiously at your side. Their laugh simmers down, and they sigh like they just heard the funniest joke in the world.

They hold their hand out towards you, "Sloane, yours?" You grab their hand and shake it, their grip firm. Your brain almost short circuits, realizing how much larger their hand is to yours. You say your name, and they repeat it. 

 

"It's nice to meet you!" They say, shaking your hand once more before letting it go.

"Sloane is a really pretty name." You state, trying to make conversation. Totally, 100% not flirting with them, of course.

"Awe shucks, you think so? Well I like yours too." They shoot back, their cheerful glow never dropping. They look over, and you do the same. You see them eyeing the table they came from. It appears someone stole their seat. 

"Oh, I'm sorry." You immediately apologize, feeling bad that their place was taken while talking to you. They shake their head and huff a little laugh, their curly hair bouncing. 

"Why're you sorry? Don't be. Plus, it's no biggie." They say nonchalantly, genuinely unphased. They crack a smile and lean forward, as if they're sharing a secret. "Don't worry, I'll get back at them." They whisper, a mischievous gleam in their eyes.

You giggle, and pull back a little. "What're you gonna do huh?"

They pull an inquisitive face, staring up at the ceiling almost performatively. "I dunno! Maybe I'll put confetti in all of their tents!" They announce, toying with the idea. You couldn't tell if they're serious or not. 

"You probably shouldn't do that." You jokingly warn, thinking abt how much of a pain confetti would be to get out of a tent. Much less the sleeping bags. 

Sloane grins, shining that gorgeous smile again. They seem to be the happiest person in the world. "Well, that's what they get for kicking me out of my own seat!"

You shake your head and let out a small chuckle, "You really are something."

They push you by the shoulder a bit, "I'm a great something I'll have you know." They joke, before settling back in their seat. 

Silence settles over the two of you for a bit, and it nearly becomes unbearable. That is until music begins to play. The lights towards the middle of the room light up, and the rest are dimmed to create a spotlight effect. The happy couple's chosen song is playing, and you watch as they approach the center of the room, beginning to dance. You smile, and awe at the sight. Seeing your friend so happy and glowing was truly a treat.

Sloane also watches, they love parties and weddings. Seeing two people so in love is one of life's many treasures. They look over towards you and see you recording your friends dance, they allow a small smile creep onto their face. They admire your side profile and the way your hair compliments you perfectly. You are eye-catching, and the way you practically folded over a cupcake earlier was hilarious. They love funny things, so they've GOT to get to know you. Exploring is one of their favorite things after all. 

They settle back and turn their attention to the dance. Eventually the music begins to wind down, and one of the grooms leaves the dance floor. It's the parents' dance, they think. Now that it isn't your friend out there, you click off the record button and look over to Sloane.

"So, what brings you here?" You ask, making conversation with them. They turn their head to face you, their hands loosely clasped together on their lap. 

"I'm from the wayfinders society! The other groom, Rey, is my good friend." They chirp, pointing at your friends now husband. "Y’know, me and him got lost once in a cave! Scary stuff, didn't know if we'd make it out." They said dramatically, waggling their fingers in your direction. 

"You serious??" You furrow your brow, and lean forward incredulously. Their warm dark eyes look back to their friend, and they nod. "Yeah, it was a couple years ago. We lost sight of our team, and couldn't find our way out. I ended up drilling us a new exit. Real risky doing that but we didn't have a choice." Sloane recounts, "Could've been worse!" They add, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"That's crazy, I could never do anything like that." You tap your foot against the ground, even thinking about that type of stuff gets you wound up.

They turn back to you with a hum and smile, "Well, you never know until you try! Exploring is the best thing I've ever done for myself, I love it. Seeing what the world was like before us… finding the rocks and gems the earth has made. It's real worth it." Their passion is evident, every word they speak has them glowing. You admit it's rather charming, seeing them so in love with their work. 

"Man, that's so cool." You state warmly. "You got a really cool job, Sloane. You got the job little kids dream of." 

They smile genuinely, really happy with the thought. "Well my abuela always said to follow your dreams, so I did. What about you? What's your dream?" They gently nudge your shoe with theirs.

"Hmmm, well. I guess I'm still trying to figure that out." You hum, looking at the ground. Your interests aren't nearly as exciting as theirs. Working one dead end job to the next, just trying to make ends meet. "Thinking tattooing, honestly." You add, looking up at them.

Sloane gasps, eyes widening. "That's so awesome though! I love tattoos, I've got at least four or five." They pull down the collar of their button down to reveal more of the flames tattooed across their neck. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't already noticed it. Wanting to see how far down it goes.

Quickly, you bat those thoughts away. Sticking to complimenting the line work and blocking of their tattoo. You ask what others they've got, and they explain all the patchwork they've got done on their arms. Some historical, some cool, some just to have a piece of the places they've been. They even mention a larger one on their thigh, a dinosaur skull with flowers. You try not to sound too interested in seeing them while asking if they have pictures. 

The conversation between you and Sloane runs smoothly, chattering about your lives and cracking jokes at one another's expense. The dancing at the party is now in full swing, guests of all types littering the dance floor. It's now completely dark outside, save for the lighting inside the venue. The lamps hanging from the ceiling are dimly glowing, the lanterns now back to their full glow. You even spot fireflies outside the venue, blinking on and off, flying into the wedding space and out. The place is truly beautiful.

The strumming of a bass fills the venue, an electronic guitar complimenting it perfectly. You recognize it instantly, as it's a song you've come to enjoy. Your new friend, Sloane, practically jumps out of their skin in excitement. They quickly whip their head to look at you while whisper shouting, "I love this song!!"

They bolt up, staring at the dance floor as both their feet hit the ground with a soft thud. They twirl their whole body around, looking at you with an outstretched hand, "Come dance with me??" They frantically blurt out.

You look dumbly at Sloane before slinking back into your chair a bit, cringing. "No no- I don't dance." While waving a hand in their direction dismissively. You're hesitant and it's obvious. The idea of getting in the middle of a bunch of people and dancing. God, not what you were made for.

You were telling the truth, you don't dance! Anyone seeing you attempt to dance may need an ambulance. Sloane slumps by your reaction, and pokes conversationally, "Aww c’monnn, pretty please? With cherries on top? One song?" They say, leaning backwards a bit on the heels of their feet while keeping their upper body forward. They begin pouting a lip out and sporting their best puppy dog eyes, hoping it'll help sway their case. 

Nervously, you rub your pointer finger across your thumb. This is not what I signed up for, you think as your lips form a line, eyes locking with Sloanes, trying to will yourself into saying no.

Damn.

You can't. You can't say no! You know you'd kick yourself later if you left without dancing with them. They're everything you like in someone, striking, funny, passionate... You internally groan, searching their dark eyes for a way out. Sadly, there isn't one. Their eyes only plead and beg.

And well... who are you to deny them?

Breathing in a deep, deep sigh, you fold, "Okayy. Okay." You say, holding both hands up, signaling defeat.

Sloane is about to shout out a glorious, loud YES before you cut them off with a finger up. "But first, a shot of liquid courage." You say, pushing yourself up from your chair, walking towards the end of the food table. There lay countless plastic shot glasses full of vodka. You pluck one from the rim of the platter.

Sloane watches as you down the drink, admiring the way your throat moves to swallow. They snort when they see you pulling a face.

"C'mon- c'mon- the song is already going." They bounce, having to fight the urge to just drag you onto the dance floor themself. Shaking your head, you wipe away the grimace on your face and discard the tiny shot glass into the nearby garbage.

They grab your hand and pull you into the crowd, though they seem somewhat aware of your aversion to it. So they lead you towards a less populated end of the floor, despite this, nearly everyone at the wedding was dancing. So you were still around a decent amount of people. They smile wide, looking off into the gaggle of party goers. You find it ironic this is the song you're dancing to, the lyrics playing loudly.

We've got nowhere to go

We've got nothing to prove

Instead of dancing alone

I should be dancing with you

The lyrics are slightly erotic, even, but you don't have much time to ponder it when they turn back to face you. They release your hand, before snapping their fingers in tune with the beat and swaying their hips. You giggle, your cheeks and stomach buzzing from the alcohol. Unfortunately for Sloane, you do not know how to dance. Not well at least, they laugh, watching you sway awkwardly. "You don't dance do you?" They ask, almost having to shout to be heard over the clamor of people and music.

"No, not really!" You reply, before admitting, "I don't wanna look dumb!" 

"Look dumb?! I'll show you dumb." They jest, backing up a bit to give themself some space. With their eyes locked onto yours, they bend their knees while bringing their right hand towards their head, palm open. They're walking towards you sideways, left hand swiping back and forth to their side and front. You about shit yourself, recoiling in shock and laughing. They continue though, bringing both hands up in fists towards their head, pumping them as they shake their hips, still approaching you. 

"What are you doing!!" You shout, cracking up at their absurdity. They finally pivot fully towards you, bending forward and moving their hands in circles. They finish off their charade with a performative strut your way, palms open in a dramatic walk. 

They laugh, grabbing one of your hands and pulling you further into the floor. "I'm dancing!! You should try it sometime!" They jive, sticking their tongue out. "I'm just saying, no one can look sillier than me!" You roll your eyes and shake your head. The smile never leaving your face.

They grab your other hand and start dancing for you, swaying you side to side. You can't help but giggle, letting them have their fun. You sway your hips and release their hands, moving yours back, snapping your fingers while doing circles and stepping side to side. Their grin widens and they yell, "Hell yeah! get it!!" Encouraging you. 

Smiling big, you continue attempting to dance with them. Sloane closes their eyes and lets themself feel the music, they move their feet expertly, and their arm movements intentionally. Seeing this makes you realize they definitely know how to dance. Your eyes explore them, their body and the way they move. It feels dirty watching them like this…But they invited you to dance, you think maybe they want you to watch them. Enjoy them, drink them up. 

It feels as though they've already wrapped you around their finger. You feel sadness bubble that the song is already ending. Luckily the next song that plays doesn't disappoint, more bass-y than the last. This one still just as popular as the day it released. 

You let yourself loosen, swaying your full body in rhythm with the bass as the song goes on. Sloane is looking at you again, and you daringly strut around them, stepping in beat with the drums. Alcohol does wonders for self esteem. They wait for you to come back around before stepping close, pulling you in by the hand. You raise an eyebrow, checking them with a grin, before gleefully walking back, shuffling your feet in tune with the music then pulling them towards you. They follow excitedly, their foot work impressive as they step towards you. They raise your held hand up as they approach and you twirl around to face them once more. Confidence runs through you at this point, letting go of the hand above you. You bring your free hand up quickly, placing it on their chest before grabbing their opposite hand. They're grinning so hard, pulling back, until your arms are taunt. Then jerking you towards them, you turn so your back hits their chest. Sloane has one hand around your front, hugging you just beneath your chest. The other holding your hip, their head resting next to yours. You both just sway now, enjoying each other's company and the music. "This okay?" They ask in your ear, the tone in their voice dropping low.

"Huh?" You say loudly, turning to face them. 

"I asked if this is okay!" They announced a little louder, and closer to your ear.

"Yeah!" You affirm happily, like this is the best day of your life. 

Do I wanna know?

If these feelings flow both ways.

Sad to see you go.

Sorta hoping that you'd stay.

Baby we both know.

That the nights were mainly made for sayin' things.

That you can't say tomorrow day.

Dancing with them like this, swaying side to side feels almost romantic. And you're having a really hard time ignoring that fact. That coupled with your already burning attraction has you dizzy. You could stay here forever. Another song passes by, and you both continue dancing with one another. At one point, you fumble through a waltz before they twirl and dip you. Despite having the time of your life, exhaustion was quickly catching up. Feeling a bit hot, and tired, holding both their hands, you turn around.

Looking up at Sloane, you truly get to admire their beauty. They've got beautiful curls, swooping and gentle. Their hair is natural, soft looking, and when you danced you could even smell their shampoo. Their eyes are a deep brown, rich like the dirt they so love digging through. You finally notice their eyebrow piercing as well, and you bite your lip. It suits them. You think. 

The longer you analyze their features, you wonder how the hell they're even real. How someone could look as perfect as them, be as charming as them. It nearly drives you mad. They smile a little, their eyes darting away. Their flushed cheeks grow a little redder at your prolonged staring. You smile a little, this is the first time you've seen them at least a little bashful. It's adorable.

The music is playing quietly now, seeing as most of the guests vacated the dance floor. Only a few stragglers are left, you included. So now you can properly talk to them.

"You know earlier... I wasn't exactly looking at the cupcakes…” You purse your lips, and squint your eyes, as if to will yourself to get the words out.

“I was staring at you." You chew your lip, looking away shyly. This confession could make or break this… whatever this is. You certainly don't wanna break it. While nervous, you had a feeling they would respond positively.

Their eyes snap back towards you, and they let themself smile, raising an eyebrow. "Ohhh, I'm that pretty, huh?" They tease.

You sigh and roll your eyes, they really are such a bastard. "Yeah yeah, whatever." You mutter, playfully pushing their shoulder. Not risking stroking their ego any further.

"No no, tell me, was it the bowtie?" They snicker, pushing their chest out a bit to really show it off. 

You shake your head, running your hands up from their own and readjusting their accessory. “Yes, it was the bowtie, all I wanted was you, bowtie.” You whisper at their chest, pulling the sides of the bow.

“Psh,” They chuckle, “Okay for real! What was it, huh?” They say, flashing their signature grin while raising their eyebrows suggestively. Perhaps telling them was a bad idea, you purse your lips again, realizing they'll bother you forever until you tell them. It seems like they're DYING to know.

You hum, dropping your head onto their chest. With one hand still on their chest, you let your other trail down their arm before grasping theirs, bringing it up towards you. Flipping it palm up, you let your free hand lightly touch their palm. "Your hands, I like them. I was looking at them." Dragging your fingers along their palm, you feel every callous and rough patch of skin. You turn them over to admire their nail polish and knuckles. You even start to massage in-between their fingers, just soaking up the fact that you can touch them like this, and they're allowing you to.

They seem to be at a loss for words, and you figure that doesn't happen too often. Smiling, you walk your fingers up their arm and to their shoulder to rest it there, bringing your other arm up to mirror it. Their hands come up to your waist and bring you close. While enjoying the embrace, you weren't expecting them to shake you and hug you in tightly. They groan into your shoulder, as if frustrated. You puff out a laugh at their weirdness. 

"Sorry- you're just so cute." They say, pulling back. "I just met you and you already got me in stitches." They admit, kicking the dirt by your feet. You figure instant attraction to a stranger is just as new to you as it is to them.

"Well..." You start, not even sure what to say. "We can… go back to my room? I'm staying at a hotel nearby. We can hang out, talk...see where it takes us?" Your voice raises at the end of your sentence, as if a little worried they'll say no. That's another lie, you were a LOT worried they'll say no, denying you any more of their time.

Your anxiety is evident as your eyes search their face for a clue, a glimmer of what they might say. Of what they could be thinking. 

Sloane looks at you with tenderness. Such sweetness you could melt. They bring a hand up to cup the side of your face, rubbing their thumb across it. "I'd like that." They say, their voice seems to tighten as if they're both excited and nervous about the proposition.

Yeah, usually parties suck. But this one? This one was amazing.

[heiayen]

a hug for your worries!🌻 gn!reader x suna rintarou summary🌻your grumbling stomach and toasts you were preparing have to all wait, because you boyfriend came back home in a terrible, sour and horrible mood. but it appears there is a way to fix it... tags🌻prompt used "give me a hug" /drabble. fluff, established relationship, silly banter between reader and suna <3 petnames (reader to suna), also my very first time writing for hq and suna in general so forgive any ooc!! notes 🌻 wow. haikyuu debut. unexpected! also take this as my official writing comeback because i have a few fics more planned! this is technically first part of a short multifandom fluff prompts series! was supposed to be flufftober but i got too impatient and decided to just post fics as i write them! so. expect more. if you're my mutual (it's directed) you are morally obligated to look away 🫵 because i am embarrassed. everyone else enjoy <3

Suna Rintarou had a bad day, and you knew that from the very moment he came back home. 

It was in the way he closed the doors, nearly slamming them which was instantly followed by mumbled cursing (because he really didn't mean to, he was tired and his hand slipped!). In the way you could barely hear his grumbled 'I'm home', or in the way he took off his shoes, put them away, and sighed loudly.

During his little drama show, you just raised your eyebrows in amusement, continuing to prepare food. You figured Rintarou would also want to eat, especially when in such a mood, so you grabbed another piece of bread for an extra toast. Good thing you shared the same taste for what to eat your toasts with...

And soon, you heard footsteps behind. 

"Hi, Rin– ugh, get off of me!" you huffed, barely able to finish the sentence, before you felt his arms wrap around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder. In no way you could continue making food with this guy all over you. 

"No."

"Yes!" You slapped his hand with the back of the butter knife handle, but to no avail, for he only dug his chin harder into your shoulder. 

(Which earned him another slap and an annoyed groan from you when it still didn't work.)

"Is this how you treat your boyfriend?" You could hear the pout in his voice, despite not seeing his face. You rolled your eyes.

"Drama queen," you mumbled, pressing a kiss into his hair. "Hi, love. Hard day?"

He hummed in agreement, and you only hummed back, continuing with the food.

"Did someone piss you off during practice?" you asked softly, and Rin shook his head.

"Don' wanna talk about it."

And then, there was a moment of silence and you almost missed his next words, mumbled into your neck.

"...give me a hug?"

You almost rolled your eyes at him (again), ready to remark how you're not only busy, but he's already hugging you, but instead, you turned around in his embrace and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, returning the hug, and you felt him relax.

You were curious as to what was the cause of his sour mood, because it was somewhat of a rare view of Rintarou, but you didn't push. If he wanted to, he would talk to you, and you would gladly listen to him.

Some seconds more passed before you remembered the poor, abandoned toasts. 

"...how about you go change? And let me finish making food?" you asked, patting him on the shoulder.

"Are you kicking me out," he deadpanned, and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him. How horrible of a person you were for even asking him to leave the kitchen.

"Well, yes." You shrugged, but made no move to actually push him away. "Food won't make itself and I bet you're hungry, so get out." 

"No."

But maybe you should've pushed him, you started to think. It surely wouldn't hurt, pun not intended. 

"Yes, Rin, yes. Out of the kitchen."

"You're horrible," Rintarou sighed heavily, and you groaned, already seeing the direction this conversation was starting to go in. "I'm a suffering man and this is how you act?"

"You're repeating yourself, you asshole." This time you gave into the urge and hit him on his shoulder, earning a very fake sounding 'ouch' from him. "And if you can act all smart with me, then you're fine. Get out!"

That made him huff out a laugh which you took as a good sign, one of Rintarou getting back in a good mood, so you smiled yourself. He moved away from you, just enough to look at you, still keeping his arms wrapped around you, but not for much longer.

Rintarou cupped your cheeks and leaned closer to your face, your foreheads almost touching.

"Absolutely horrible, y'know?" he snickered (the humor in his voice obvious) and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. 

"You looove me anyway,"  you sing-sang, smiling widely. Something appeared in his fox-like eyes after your words, soft and warm, but very quickly, the charm broke.

"Yeah, I do," he said after a moment, quieter. And then added, because it wouldn't be him if he didn't—

"Unfortunately."

You gasped at his words in mock offense, much to his amusement, and pushed at his chest. "You're not getting even a burned toast, Rintarou."

That seemed to work, as he finally moved away from you, frowning at your poor excuse of a threat. He left the kitchen with a few more complaints about you, to which you only waved him a goodbye, have a nice shower, don't slip.

...oh, well, you really should go back to those toasts. 

[ficmashup]

Feral

A/N: I'm feeling silly, so why not post an almost 3k little fic of TF141? I have literally no thoughts other than 'hey, why not' so no clue if I'll continue this or not. Just fooling around! This is my first time posting anything like this by me, so don't come for me if I got the terms wrong. Also, I'm a first-person girly, so forgive me.

Warnings: I'm pretty vague, but for full disclosure, possible SA mention? (Nothing explicit or even mentioned, but more a general vibe, sorry that's not more specific) shooting, guns, very minor character deaths, f!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Read part two here.

Masterlist

I’m absolutely feral and determined to make sure everyone knows it.

Being in a male-dominated field hasn’t been easy and I’ve tried a lot of avenues before settling on this one. Something about being a female medic just really seems to set off everyone’s internal misogyny and nothing shuts them up faster than the little female medic literally punching their teeth in. I get into three fights my first month after being assigned to the 141.

The first fight I get into, I nearly bite a man’s finger off. (He was pointing it in my face and I warned him before going for it, so���deserved.) The second, I punch a man so hard while he’s talking that he bites off the tip of his tongue. (If he wanted to keep it intact, then he should have stopped wagging it.) During the third, I come away holding a chunk of a soldier’s hair. (He touched mine without permission and gave it a little tug. Enough said.)

After that, people seem to get the message. There are still a few smartasses that press their luck, but usually those situations are diffused without physical means. My relationship with my team however…that’s a bit more complicated.

I meet each of them when I arrive, the hulking soldiers lined up like pallbearers waiting for the coffin. I shook their hands, exchanged names, then didn’t say another word. None seemed to know exactly how to react to me and I wasn’t sure how to act around them. We’re supposed to trust each other with our lives, but I wouldn’t trust a single one to pour me a cup of tea. They struggle too, but for different reasons. They’re clearly close and know each other well, that’s why they’re such a deadly team, and I’m an outsider. A suspicious and cautious outsider, although I try to temper my attitude into passive indifference while I try to figure them out.

Naturally, Soap tries to break the ice first.

“You’ve got a thousand-yard stare that could rival Ghost’s, lass.” He comments one day in a charming Scottish accent as he risks sitting next to me in the mess hall. “You can bend my ear, if the fancy strikes ya.”

“I doubt that it will.” My voice is cool, indifferent, and I can’t keep myself from leaning away from him a bit. Too many times did I let myself trust another service member only for the friendship to quickly turn into something else. Something I did not want.

Soap quirks a brow and takes the cold shoulder in his stride. “But if it does. Don’t hesitate to find me.” He pats my shoulder before walking off and I feel the stirrings of something in my stomach as I watch him go. Loneliness, longing, the desire to be part of…something. I shake my head and throw away the rest of my food as I leave the mess hall, trying to ignore that little ember flickering in my gut.

*     *     *

Gaz tries next, but it’s a bit more subtle. Be it by luck or some other divine intervention, none of the team were ever present when I got into the fights. But they definitely heard about them afterward. There’s no judgement in their gazes, I’m sure they heard why I got into those fights, but there is curiosity. Gaz shifts a touch closer after a briefing about an upcoming mission and I clock the movement instantly, my eyes cutting to his. Gaz’s eyebrows pop up and the corner of his mouth lifts warmly. “Heard you were in a hell of a fight recently.” He starts, an elbow propped up on the arm of the chair he’s relaxed back into.

“Her last.” Price says with a pointed glance towards me and I nod, but we both know I didn’t start any of the fights. I simply ended them.

“The boys telling the tale were practically shaking in their boots.” Gaz presses on and I can’t help feeling a brief bit of pleasure at that. Price distracts himself with maps and papers on the other side of the table, but I’m not foolish enough to think that he isn’t listening. Soap perks up, turning to me as well while Ghost lurks near the door.

“Glad to hear the message got across.” I keep my voice low with little inflection. Usually I’m up and out the door after a meeting, but since everyone else is lingering, I figure I can give it a chance.

There’s a quiet hum from behind me that has my back straightening. “Trying to scare off the whole base?” Ghost asks and it’s the first time he’s asked me anything directly.

My head turns so that I can see his silhouette behind me. “Not all of us strike an imposing figure and wear a scary mask. Sometimes people have to see the blood on your teeth to know that you mean what you say.” I keep my voice soft to avoid the appearance of a threat, but let the words have an impact. Gaz and Soap glance at one another while Price’s hands stall over his papers across the table. A beat passes, then Ghost huffs what could almost be considered a laugh. The sound gives me a strange sense of relief as the tension over the room breaks.

“Can’t wait to see you sink your teeth into the enemy then, sergeant.” The corner of my mouth lifts and I nod, glad to have the opportunity to prove myself. I turn a bit more in my seat to see Ghost’s piercing eyes and don’t flinch away.

“I’ll save a blood-stained smile just for you, Lieutenant.” I promise and I think I hear Gaz swallow while Soap blinks. Ghost responds with a simple nod and I swear I see the fabric of his mask shift as he smirks before he slips out of the room.

*     *     *

The first real test comes when we’re sent out on our first mission together.

A month after I’m stationed with them, we’re sent out and it’s a bit jarring for all of us. They’ve been on their own for a while and introducing a new person into that dynamic…it’s enough to make everyone a bit off-center. But I’m used to sliding into places that I’m not wanted and I’m not about to be an idiot and risk everyone’s lives by being difficult, so I tuck myself into the small gaps left by the men. It’s not like they don’t want me here anyway, they’re just…apprehensive. Same as me.

We spend the first day trekking up a mountain through snow and I push myself hard, wanting to prove myself and leave no room for anyone to call me lazy or unfit. The entire day, I’m on Price’s heels as he leads us and I soak in his nod of approval despite myself as we file into an empty cabin for the night. I’m utterly exhausted, but I force myself to look through the house to memorize the layout before returning to the living room. Soap is eagerly setting up the hot plate for us to have a hot meal, even if it is an MRE, while the others are laying out their sleeping bags. They lay them in a row and I watch with trepidation as I put my bag down in a corner of the room, then sit alongside it as I rest for just a minute.

My eyes shut before I realize and I only become aware of it when I hear boots stop in front of me and they snap open. I look up instantly to see Price standing over me and I shove myself up onto my feet, teetering just slightly as I focus on his face. “Sir?”

“At ease.” He soothes and my shoulders lax just a touch at the command. “It’ll get below freezing tonight, so we’re huddling together. I’ve put you between Soap and I, but you can settle where you want.” Price chooses his words carefully with his clear eyes looking over my face for a reaction, but it’s clear that this isn’t optional.

“…yes, sir.” I respond, glancing over at the spot left bare for my sleeping bag. Anxiety gathers in my stomach and my hands clench at my sides. “Permission to take first watch?”

He considers me a moment, fingers smoothing over his facial hair. “Granted.” I glide away to the other side of the house and perch on a window sill as I look over the snowy landscape. Soap is kind enough to bring me my MRE and stalls next to me for a few moments.

“Feel free to snuggle close tonight. Or kick me if I start to snore.” He winks at me and my lips barely twitch at his effort to relieve the tension I know is clear throughout my body. After that, no one bothers me as night falls. The cold seeps into the house and I keep myself curled into a ball to conserve body heat even as I shiver. My anxiety about the impending sleeping arrangements keeps me awake and alert easily enough, but I can’t keep watch all night.

“Oi.” Ghost’s deep whisper disturbs the near silence and my head whips to my left, seeing him standing a few feet away. He moved quietly. Impressive for a man of his size. “I’m taking over. Get some sleep and get warm.” He flicks his chin back towards the others. I swallow and reluctantly leave my perch, brushing past him before I feel his gloved hand catch my bicep. My hand clenches into a fist automatically as I turn back to him to find his gaze locked on mine, his eyes dark and considering.

“I don’t know your story. Price has kept your file under wraps and we trust him enough to accept that. But whatever you’ve been through, don’t assume that you’re going to go through the same thing with us.” I’m pinned in place by his gaze and his words, my eyes widening slightly. I hadn’t known Price was keeping my file to himself, but the show of consideration and loyalty surprises me. It also hits me deep.

“I hear you.” I whisper back and he lets me pull my arm from his light grip. “But I’m not about to trust anyone blindly.”

He nods once. “Fine. But don’t rule it out either.” He quirks a brow at me pointedly before pulling away and settling in my place in the window, effectively ending the brief conversation. His words swirl around in my head while I head over to the others and gather my sleeping bag in my arms as I squeeze it. I kneel on the floor and roll it out between Price and Soap while my heart thunders in my chest. I’m still shivering as I do my best to be quiet while unzipping my sleeping bag, then slip down into it. My shoulders bump against Soap and Price before I shrink, curving my shoulders inward to try not to touch anyone despite that very much not being the point of sleeping like this.

Price shifts and turns towards me while I freeze, still shivering in place while I hold my breath until I see that his eyes are still closed. I release a small sigh of relief before choking on it as his eyes flash open. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as an apology perches on my tongue, but he says nothing. Instead, he shifts a bit closer without taking his eyes off mine, then lays an arm next to me before holding his other up a bit. An invitation.

I swallow and blink a few times as I take in the offer. Out of everyone, Price is the easiest for me to be around. He treats me like anyone else, he keeps his distance, and while he doesn’t hesitate to wield his authority, he wears it lightly. “Make a choice, soldier.” He murmurs with a voice gruff and deep from sleep. My jaw locks as a violent shiver wracks me before I force myself to shimmy closer to Price. I’m not about to freeze my ass off because of idiocy or stubbornness. He takes that as my answer and reaches out, hands wrapping around me and gathering me to him. The only noise I make is a small squeak as he pulls me against his hard body and I melt almost instantly into his warmth.

He cradles my face against the warm crook of his neck with his cheek resting against the top of my head. His other arm wraps around my waist and his hips shift slightly so his legs drape over mine while still in our respective sleeping bags. Like a heavy blanket. My heart is still beating fast as a hummingbird’s wings while my body fights my mind, but luckily, I’m so cold and tired that instinct wins out. My eyes shut and I feel my cheeks heat as his hand falls to the back of my neck, his gloved fingers gently kneading the skin. “Thanks.” I breathe and his grip tightens around me for a moment before he releases a long breath, draping me in the scent of his cigars. I don’t hear Price make another sound because I’ve fallen asleep before he takes another breath.

*     *     *

Price wakes early the next morning and I feel it the instant that he moves. I pull away without hesitation and his arms fall from around me while I avoid his gaze, my cheeks hot. I’m quick to roll up my sleeping bag and check over my pack while I cool down a bit. The morning passes and no one says a thing about our sleeping arrangements despite every soldier having to pass by Price and I while they took watch. Their eyes linger between us a bit, but I’ll take that over any smart comments.

We move out and the mission goes smoothly enough. Gaz and I perch on a cliffside while the others clear a town below. He’s my spotter while I keep a steady eye on the areas they’re heading into through my scope. Being a medic means I have steady hands, which makes me a hell of a sniper.

“So…did you know the Captain before being stationed here?” Gaz says quietly, the first words not mission related that he’s said to me today.

I scoff softly and keep my eye glued to my scope. “No. And if this is a way to get me to talk about the position Price and I were in this morning, it’s a poor segway. It was cold. We were all pressed together like sardines. That’s the end of it.”

“Right, right, sure.” He agrees and silence falls over us again. For a moment. “Ghost and I spoon all the time. Soap too. Like three little peas in a pod.”

I snort, unable to keep the corner of my mouth from lifting. “And leave Price out? Criminal.”

Gaz chuckles and the sound is warm, especially in this cold landscape. “Oh we invite him. He just doesn’t usually show much interest.”

“Hm. He is the captain. Maybe he has higher snuggle standards.”

“You saying the rest of us aren’t snuggle material?”

“Your words, not mine.”

“Ouch, newbie. You strike for the heart.”

“I’m a sniper and a medic. It’s kind of my job.”

Gaz chuckles again and I realize that I’m actually…having fun? At least a little bit, anyway. “I’ll get a laugh out of you eventually, newbie.” My mouth opens to reply before I see a flash of movement in the town below.

Two figures pass by a second-floor window and I spot a hatch on the roof. I focus and take a breath as I aim at the hatch, waiting. I take a second to flick on my coms. “Two tangos on the northeast roof. Hold position.” The hatch begins to open while I remain steady, all my attention on that roof and my gun.

“Copy.” Price’s voice comes over the coms before there’s silence. The hatch opens and I wait for them both to get out, making sure it’s closed behind them before shooting. My breath funnels out of my chest and I make the shots without blinking, the action practically reflexive after so long in service. Both fall without getting to fire off a shot. I’m pretty sure I hear Gaz curse quietly beside me.

“Tangos down. You’re clear to move forward.” I report, heaving a relieved sigh as I see them move through the last stretch of town without incident.

“Copy, move out. Nicely done.” Price responds and I finally get to move out of my horizontal position. I stretch just a bit, wincing as my muscles pinch from being in the same position for so long, before I pack my gun and turn to Gaz who is shaking his head slightly.

“You took out those guys like a damn surgeon.”

The corner of my mouth lifts again as we head out. “Sniper and medic, remember? Let’s get out of here. Your comrades are missing their third pea in their pod.” I comment dryly and he grins, following me down the path where we agreed to meet the others.

“Did you just make a joke?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You did. I’m flattered to be the first one to hear it. Was starting to worry you didn’t have a sense of humor at all.” I roll my eyes and we keep arguing playfully as we go. Gaz reports my shots to the team, talking me up while I shake my head, but from then on, he calls me Surgeon. It catches on and the others follow suit, but more often than not, they just call me G.

[2xchomp]

Not art (once again ;-;), but it think you’ll like this

But I had a dream…a vision perchance that has to do with 5am Pearl and Misadventures!Pearl.

Basically, somehow in someway, DL!Pearl’s tower end up in the world of Misadventures due to…something (idk it’s just a concept and not hashed out) and Misadventures!Pearl happens across it while exploring! (Maybe with others maybe by herself)

And is confused as to why there’s another part of the map that’s labeled “The Scarlet Witch’s Moon’s Tower” and decided to call Lizzie about it, since it doesn’t seem like it should be there.

Now, maybe it’s there on its own, or maybe it’s there in a zone that has the other winner’s bases from their games ( “The Watcher’s Sun’s Desert,”

“The Sacrifice’s Stars’ Cottage,”

“The Listener’s Mars’ Isle,”

“The Villain’s Trading Shack,”

“The Wildcard’s Comet’s Car,”

And I don’t know if the AF’s “bases” also show up since technically they didn’t have a bases, but they’re definitely there in someway! Maybe Cleo’s just rooming with Scott)

BUT! Either way, Lizzie comes on over in admin mode, and maybe it’s because she wasn’t there in DL or maybe it’s something else, but since they only stayed in the outskirts of the land, she doesn’t notice its connections to the life series and says: “Well that’s just weird, it registers as a dungeon, but it’s not a dungeon we made…”

and decides to hold a meeting to tell everyone else about it and tell them to not go near it until the admin team fix it up or find out how it there or something.

Pearl though? Pearl knows what’s there, she knows the name, she knows the cold that instantly hit her body when crossing the threshold, she knows the silhouette of the tower in the distance and she definitely knows the howls that ring through the forest.

So, against what Lizzie said, she heads out to it again, cause she thinks she knows how to at least try to get rid of it. So maybe a little talk is in order.

And of course it’s a dungeon, but the thing is, the monsters she’s supposed to fight? The wolves? They don’t seem to want to fight her, they’re all just looking at her cautiously and curiously, like they know her. Well guess her hypothesis on who this is, is right. Now she’ll just have to talk to her(herself?).

They finally meet, and instead of trying to fight her, the Scarlet Witch just asks a question:

“Do you think this is going to last? The friendliness? The calm? Wouldn’t it be better to be prepared just in case they leave again?” It isn’t asked in malice, just curious, worried that it’ll happen again.

“It won’t, I promise that. For as much as there are grudges held in the games, they aren’t forever. The people in there are more forgiving than that, I’m more forgiving than that, and Scott is too. The reconciliation in Wild Life may not have been the best, but we’re working on it outside of that as well. You don’t have to worry,

I - we, won’t be left alone anymore.”

Maybe it’s the conviction in her voice, or the fondness, but The Scarlet Witch smiled softly as she started to turn to particles. Like how monsters normally do when dying.

“Maybe we won’t be alone anymore, but it’s always nice to have a companion to always be by your side.”

Then Tilly comes into view, and walks over, now as a companion (maybe mount?) that Pearl can take home.

(And maybe some other canine companions are there to be picked up by others as well, Shelby’s Dire Wolf, Sausage’s Bubbles. Maybe even Matchbox, Mailbox, Millie and Billie will find their way home as well, but only if a route not violent is taken)

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

But yeah :D Maybe this’ll get others to make art or stories cause while I’d love to make art, it would come out so much later than I would like, and this idea might slip from my mind by then.

Idk, I just really wanted a 5am Pearl to get some closure knowing she won’t be treated like the way she was in DL again. It’ll help soothe my soul.

Once again, I’m sorry about the art drought but I’m working on smaller things that are all interconnected which I hope people will like. It may take a while but it’ll come out…eventually

[pythoria]

In light of the new astarion voice lines in reaction to mizora, I think we finally need to put to rest the whole monogamous vs polyam astarion discourse. Here's the thing. Polyamory is never explicitly discussed or negotiated at any point during the astarion romance. You get individual instances of astarion being okay with various things, like a one night stand with the drows or halsin. It's unclear in the coversation about halsin if he's agreeing to a one night stand or a three-way relationship deal, he just gives you a general go ahead to do whatever you want with halsin because he trusts you. But then halsin doesn't stick around at the end of the game, and by the time he leaves he's only ever been with astarion in the context of the drow orgy (which is optional), and only sexually. Halsin is only interested romantically in the player char from what we're shown. Everyone is free to headcanon otherwise or write whatever fics they want, but as long as we're arguing about canon we have to be very specific. Nothing about any of the conversations with astarion suggest polyamory. They might have suggested a sort of open relationship situation before, but now with mizora, we have proof that there was no negotiation or blanket consent given off screen for having sex with other people, and in fact, it hurts astarion deeply to see his partner engage in sex with someone else.

Now, you can argue it's because he didn't consent to it beforehand, fair enough. Let's walk through what that conversation could've looked like, shall we? If you'd have asked him if you can sleep with mizora, he could've either said yes or no, it's pretty straightforward. From how upset he is, and the fact that he doesn't bring up you not getting his approval beforehand, we can infer his answer would've been "no" (because if he would've said yes anyway, you would get the type of reaction you get with ascended astarion, a "next time invite me" type response). So then, why would astarion say no to mizora specifically, if asked? After all, he's presumably okay with meaningless sex, even when he's not involved, because he lets you sleep with one of the drows all by yourself. And presumably he's also okay with it when feelings are involved, if he's truly okay with the halsin arrangement. So what part of sleeping with mizora is different? Why would he suddenly disagree with it if he was previously okay with similar arrangements?

Here's the thing. Astarion says yes to things out of pressure. Obviously he tells you so himself in act 2, "i didn't know how to say no", and that's corroborated by his dead expression during the drow 4/5some. He says yes to things, hates them, and then depending on how violated he feels afterwards, he decides whether or not it's a forgivable transgression on the part of his partner. He HAS to do it after the fact, because prior to it, he doesn't know how he will feel, he doesn't know if something specific is going to be the thing that tips him over. When he says "i didn't know how to say no" in act 2, it's not just that he instantly knew he didn't want to have sex with tav and went along anyway, it's also that he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, and maybe mistakenly believed he could put up with it, until he actually did it. With the drows, the only difference is that he does put up with it, by dissociating. For astarion, something is either too much, or something he can tune out and deal with. He never expresses any "mild" discomfort that you can talk to him about, except for when he's anxious you want to have sex with halsin because he doesn't put out. And even then, there's nothing you can say that will make him disapprove of the halsin thing, short of completely breaking up with him. He voices an insecurity, sure, but even when told that insecurity is legitimate, he still agrees to the halsin situation.

This is why I need everyone to understand, there is no polyam negotiation with astarion, he blanket accepts everything until he snaps, because that's what trauma victims do. I'm not saying this out of a desire to prove astarion is monogamous, either. If the game showed healthy communication about this I wouldn't be here arguing about any of this. Polyamory is valid and can be done in a healthy way, but what you have in the game is not a representation of polyamory, it's a representation of a trauma victim not knowing his own limits and chugging full speed ahead until he snaps. The mizora exchange just cements that further. The roll you have to pass to get him to stay with you isn't "let's discuss boundaries, i didn't know this wasn't allowed", it's "this didn't mean anything". If this man was already okay with meaningless sex on the side, why would you need to convince him of it? All you're doing is manipulating him, and the result of that manipulation isn't even "okay, you can have meaningless sex from now on as long as we talk beforehand", instead, he says he forgives you. There's no implication that this could happen again, if only you have his consent, he just forgives you for this one transgression and agrees to move on. And let me be perfectly clear, I've shipped polyam ships before, I don't have an inherent bias against it. But we all, collectively as a fandom, need to learn to read the room. The signs of discomfort are all there, it doesn't help anyone if we put on horse blinders and ignore them. My only desire is to see astarion interpreted faithfully, not to start or contribute to a war people seem to be having about the validity of polyamory in general or in real life.

So, in conclusion, we need to separate headcanons from canon. Canon is, at best, unclear on what Astarion is comfortable with. It helps no one to act like this is a clear cut issue on either side, but imo it's more harmful to potentially force him into situations he's uncomfortable with than to just let him lead, since he doesn't propose any of these arrangements himself, and never does them for his benefit, only his partner's.

And one last thing. This is not to say "don't do these things because they're bad". They're in the game so you can do them and roleplay however you want. However, we need to be realistic about the kind of characters we're playing. If your tav pressures astarion into these various situations, that's not a good-aligned tav, and that's okay, as long as you're not pretending otherwise. I love an evil durge playthrough as much as the next person, but none of it would be cathartic or fun if the whole time I was under the impression that murder is actually fine and good.

[cafecourage]

I've got another monkey bread order (with the customary side of london fog tea) because I'm indecisive. :)

The chain waking up to find that their s/o has woven flowers into their hair. (Reader had last watch and got bored, what else were they supposed to do? They looked too precious for them to *not,* after all.

- Glitter anon, who has finally figured out how to get the space between the dash and g while not on mobile ✨

I did something different for this post that I seen some people have done.

Link doesn’t tend to sleep during the day. He is a ball of energy even when it doesn’t show, so having him finally sit down and relax was a miracle to say the least. There was a part of you that would like to leave him to his rest but considering he had trapped you under his body. Well a part of you was as his head was resting on your lap. There was a part of you that wanted to braid his hair, which was typically ok. But you couldn’t tell how deep asleep he was. First you pick up some wild flowers that were in reach organizing them a bit. They were small enough that you could do something funny.

So with a light hand and a ton of love, you gently take his hair being mindful of his sleep.

———————————

This wasn’t the first time the Old Man™️ had woken up with flowers in his hair and it really wont be the last time. So he honestly sat up from your embrace not realizing while his hair was now indeed braided, it also had flowers woven through. “Good morning my love.” You said cupping his face admiring your work but also his pretty boy face.

“More like Good Afternoon.” Time said leaning down to kiss you. “Thanking you for doing my hair.” You had to stop yourself from giggling, you really wanted to point out the flowers. But you kept silent. Time, the observant man, noticed your amusement almost immediately. “What did you do-“ he reaches up to feel the soft bumps of the flowers.

“Keep it in?” I asked before he could comment.

There was a pause before he sighs “ok.” He said with a soft smile. “But I have to take them out tonight.”

“Of course!”

_____________________

Twilight can’t really help himself when it comes to cuddling up with you. He liked holding you to much. It didn’t occur to him that you would take this time to mess with him. Granted Twilight’s hair wasn’t long enough but you manage to get some flowers in there. You didn’t expect him to run his hand through his hair ruining all your hard work. “Twi!” You cried as that took you a long time to do!

Honestly he was stunned to see flowers coming from his hair before turning sheepish. “Sorry Darling.” He looked so guilty that you couldn’t stay mad but how dare he use puppy eyes against you!

You could only hold on for so long before you playfully collapse in his arms “fineee I’ll forgive you this time.”

_____________________

The Captain wasn’t used to getting knocked out instantly as he was a light sleepier and the fact he was sleeping in the afternoon instead of training was a miracle. You took advantage of this fully. Though you had made sure to be very careful, even then the captain finally awakens sadly. “Hi darling.” He shifts so he could lean up to kiss you.

“Hi Sleeping beauty.” Even when awake you continue to braid flowers in his hair. “Your hair is soft.”

He hums leaning into your touch “With how long it is I have to take care of it.” He was slowly going back to dream land, “do we have to leave yet?”

“No, I think we have more time go back to sleep.” You didn’t have to convince him further.

_____________________

Sky was a deep sleeper we knew this. Everyone and their mother knew this. So you took your time weaving flowers in his hair. You had taken out a few of the Loftwing feathers and beads in his hair before redoing all of it. Making sure his original hair accessories were now framed with the flowers in his hair.

It honestly took a few hours before he actually woke up. “Ngh…” He shifts finally as he woke up. He look down at your now asleep in his arms. Thats how long it took him to wake up. Sky blinks as he processes that your asleep first before his hair was different. Sky kisses his forehead. “I love you.” He whispers as he silently wishes you only the sweetest of dreams. Some of his now braided hair falls and he finally sees your work. “Oh…” he reached back and gently pull forward more of his hair to see what you done and that only filled his heart more with warmth. He holds you closer nuzzling his face in your hair opting to thank you later and let you relax.

_____________________

Legend barely takes naps. He admittedly refuses to. You don’t know how he did it. But he managed to fall asleep in your arms. Which while cute had put you in a particularly bad position as you wanted to move. Your legs were becoming numb and you didn’t have any more flower to sneak into his hair. It wasn’t until one of the boys (you didn’t bother to look) screamed while wrestling. Which caused Legend to bolt up. You were quick to wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s just the others play fighting.” You soothe him as you could tell the veteran was panicking a bit.

“Wha- oh. Goddess… why.” Bunny boy closed his eyes to take a few moments before flopping back down on you. The flowers now crushed in his hair. Legend grumbles reaching up “did you put flowers in my hair?”

You hummed “yeah…” it was automatic for you to start playing with his hair you slowly take out the crushed flowers. Anything to make Legend to relax again.

____________________

Fairies love Hyrule. Fairies also love flowers. So when they saw you braiding flowers into Hyrule’s unruly hair they had to join in. Honestly at this point you were sure some flowers got onto your hair as the fairies were all around. It took awhile for Hyrule to wake up. But when he does he was slow to fully wake up. Sitting up some of the more loose flowers fall out and on his lap. He stares down at them then at you. “You look pretty.” He mumbled as he reaches to touch some of the flowers in your hair.

“You look handsome yourself.” You said, Hyrule pauses and you can see the math in his head as he processes. He snorts and began to laugh when he finally figures it out. “Hey! I am right!” You giggle with him as you wrap your arms around him.

He kisses your cheek then moves to place on to your forehead. “You’re adorable.”

____________________

Wild doesn’t do well with naps. The boy has to much energy and like a hummingbird you are 50% sure he might die if he stopped moving fully. Though that doesn’t really matter as you had got him to sit still and relax for a few moments. A miracle truly.

It was time to move out and begrudgingly you had to walk the Champion up. “Wild.” You shake his shoulder “it’s time to get up.” He only grumbles as he slowly gets up not even bothered by the flowers in his hair as it always has things inside of it.

“Good morning.” He mumbles as he helps you up standing. You end up not telling him as watching the others debate on it too but also just letting it be.

____________________

You coudn’t see the Minish. As much as you wanted to, but you know this was the Minish’s doing as while you were braiding Four’s hair flowers keep appearing. So it was ether the Minish or some mysterious creature was supplying you with Flowers. At this point you were making a flower crown out of his sash. Just because you could.

“Darling….” Four shifts turning in your lap so he was looking up at you “what are you doing.”

“Playing with you.” You snickered as it was the truth. “Sorry if i woke you up.”

“It’s fine…” He mumbles turning around again “can you take them out?”

You hummed pretending to think about it. “Finnne.”

[gachagon]

The "Kill Eito" Route imo just says that killing Eito is the thing that kickstarts everyone into going completely off the deep end. And when I really think about it, that does make a lot of sense.

Day 1 of the first Route, nobody wants to even fight, everyone just wants Sirei to let them all go home, nobody sees Eito as a threat at all. Day 2, they finally have some hope that they can maybe leave and go home, but Sirei has to talk to people in the top brass about it, nobody thinks Eito is evil still in fact many probably think he's just a frail dude who's awkward bc he's been in hospitals most of his life.

And then on Day 2 you kill him for seemingly the only reason being "He's secretly evil and wants all of us dead, trust me guys I'm from the future and he fucks us all over because he's literally insane." I get that the game wants to hammer in the idea that in order to "save everyone" we also have to include Eito in that as well, and thus it doesn't make sense for Takumi to really just kill Eito instantly without expecting any real repercussions for it.

That being said, I do also think this route shows how shallow his friends actually are lol. For one, Takumi is 100% honest about everything he does and has gone through, he doesn't lie to his friends at all about his intentions and is a very earnest person who is willing to put his faith in people. His friends on the other hand constantly look to him as the person who's both responsible for the problems happening around them or the person who's supposed to "fix" everything.

I mean Takumi, Hiruko, and Yugamu all worked so hard to kill the Sponsor that one time, and the minute the Sponsor comes back to reveal they're not dead and that there's "Multiple" of them, now it's all "Wow Takumi you LIED about this and now its YOUR fault we're in this mess". Mind you, none of them have even considered the possibility of killing the Sponsor. His friends are all cowards who sit back and wait for other people to take the lead, who wait for someone else to come and save them.

All I'm saying is, if I went back in time and shit and I killed what is essentially baby hitler, and then the time line changed to reveal all my friends are bitter fucking assholes who are super ungrateful for everything that I do, and who basically will turn their backs on me the moment shit hits the fan even marginally, well I don't know exactly if I would go back again and "do the 100 days" over lmao. Takumi is so much better than me, this would've been my LAST time redoing everything.

Like, imagine if Subaru from Re:Zero had to deal with this. He goes back in time, kills a bad guy, and then Rem and Ram and Amelia spend the rest of the season treating him like straight garbage anytime anything bad happened because "Oh if only you hadn't killed such and such without any proof! None of this would be happening now >:( It's all your fault, I'm mad at you instead of the actual person fucking all of us over right now!!" People would think "Wow his friends suck ass why is Subaru still trying to help?"

And I also get the point is that Takumi is chasing after that one timeline where they were ALL friends and nothing bad happened at all, but still this has got to be rough like I'm not this fucking forgiving lmao. Takumi is so forgiving of his friends who pretty much treat him like a punching bag </3

[blank468]

Describe Bakugo’s development in short words

If you were to ask me how would I describe Bakugo’s development in short words, it would come across as being boring and predictable. Let’s start with the fact that despite being a secondary character, Bakugo has no real purpose/contribution in the main story line. His involvement with Deku and OFA doesn’t amount to anything other than mindless yelling, guilt tripping, and just him treating it as a competition to try and surpass Deku when he unlocks his other quirks. The only reason he’s involved in a lot of what’s going on is because of his popularity. He started gaining popularity when he won the Sports festival and because everyone like the stereotypical angry rival trope. He can be replaced by literally any other character and nothing would change.

It’s basically a pattern whenever Bakugo is involved with something.

- Bakugo will treat others beneath him and continue to call the extras.

- Whatever is going in the story if it’s a fight between the villains or something school related, he’ll treat it as a competition.

- He’ll either verbally attack Deku and everyone around them or get physical to get what he wants.

- Deku won’t see this as an issue and continue to gush over Bakugo about how he’s a good friend and the idea of him being the symbol of victory

-Anyone that calls out his horrible behavior will do a complete 180 and talk about how whatever he said either makes sense or to give some baseless excuse about how he changed

- Aizawa, All Might and or anyone in UA will make some claim about how his some kind of an inspiration for 1A and Bakugo is trying harder than everyone else(completely ignoring all of 1A’s accomplishments and improvements throughout their first year)

- After winning or coming out on top whatever Bakugo will take his win for granted and will act like it doesn’t mean anything while acting aggressive when someone compliments him

- What ever punishment or consequences he gets(not matter how fatal is) will be minor and the story will find to way to have him come out at top without any struggle

- The story will have characters feel bad, guilty for Bakugo for something so minuscule and or try to punish them in a similar manner like Bakugo (A recent example of the story punishing characters because of Bakugo’s actions is in the Card OVA. I didn’t bother watching it because I knew it was just a product plug for training cards but from what I viewed from other people’s discussions, the match between Deku and Bakugo ends with a tie. Apparently Bakugo threw another hissy fit and not only destroyed the card game but blew up the dorm with everyone inside. Instead of punishing Bakugo for destroying public property and potentially injuring his classmates, Aizawa decides to punish all of Class 1A and ban them from playing any other games in the dorm.)

I know everyone has their own interpretation on how they feel about Bakugo and that’s perfectly fine. I don’t have problem if you like him, but Bakugo is written as if everything he did or stood for never mattered. Izuku, Class 1A , UA and by extension Horikoshi, wants the audience to believe that all the positive aspects about his character somehow outweigh the negatives and we’re supposed to accept that Bakugo has fully grown while at the same time instantly forgiving him for being a spiteful and petty bully. No matter what happens to him, he’ll still come out on top as if what he went through wasn’t consequential or lethal. He’s constantly giving wins and random asspulls to favor him despite either doing the bare minimum of his supposed development or not doing anything at all. Bakugo in the eyes of others will always be seen as the true MVP and is the one that always has to win. He’s nothing but a pet under the care of his creator who will go out of his way to make every other character look bad and pathetic than they already are; including the main protagonist.

[theoutsiders-luvr]

Hii actually cannot get over how freaking AWESOME your work is omg

Can we get like Soda and Curtis reader are sitting in the living room, watching some random movie and Darry is in the kitchen, making dinner, and he just got home like 15 minutes ago from his long work day, and reader is telling Soda a funny story that happened with her and her best friend but like Darry kinda yells at her to shut up because he's really tired and she's talking too much and she just shuts down and instantly stops, like her smile fades and like 30 minutes later Pony comes out of his room to eat dinner and everyone's sitting at the table and it's awkwardly quiet and Pony's just like "woah what'd I miss" and soda just gives him a small look like 'don't bring attention to it' and after dinner, reader is doing the dishes, but like it was supposed to be Darry's night to wash them, but he was asleep in his chair and she gets ready to go to into her room but Darry like opens his eyes and is like "you better be goin' to bed" and like scolding her and stuff for staying up too late (it's like 10:30) and she just feels guilty for upsetting him more after getting off work and she goes into her room, the next morning before he takes soda to work and pony and reader to school he's like "??? who did the dishes?" and soda's like "oh! reader did them!" and Darry feels bad and reader is just quietly sitting on the couch waiting to leave and before reader gets out of the car to go into the school, darry gives her a small, apologetic look and reader somewhat notices it but doesn't really think he's in the wrong for yelling at her and they have a talk about it during dinner after school and stuff?

Sorry this is so longg, if this could be about the movie that'd be great!! Have a great day or night!

Family Feuds:

Authors Note: AHH THANK YOU FOR THE KIND WORDS!!! I’m glad some people like my work!! This was such a wonderful piece to write! I loved it so so so much! I hope you love it just as much as I do! Also I’ve realized that I suck at naming my fics so please forgive my horrible titles.

(Darrel Curtis x Reader)

You were sitting in the living room with Sodapop after a long day of school. He had just got done telling you all about his day at work with Steve. About the Socs that came and how he messed with them like always. His voice was loud like it usually was. You kinda took after Soda in that sense. Whenever you got worked up about something, in either a good way or a bad way, your voice was louder than usual. But whenever you weren’t worked up, you were occasionally the quietest in the room. You loved listening to Soda talk because whenever he did, he always had this kind of energy to him that made you smile.

While Soda was recalling certain events from his day, Darry walked in with the tired look that he always had on nowadays. He dropped off his work belt by the door before heading straight to the kitchen. Basically ignoring you and Sodapop sitting on the couch. You knew he wasn’t ignoring you, he just wanted to get dinner done quick so he could rest for the night.

“So, while I was checking out the customer, Steve was mopping the floor but like an idiot, he turned around and slipped on the spot he just mopped and fell on his ass! It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen! His hat flew straight across the store!” The glow on his face showed you that he really thought it was the funniest thing ever. Until tomorrow when something else becomes the funniest thing ever.

“Oh! Guess what happened today!” You suddenly remembered the incident that occurred in your science class today.

“What happened?” Soda asked, giving you his full attention. These were special times. When Soda would listen to you instead of being the one doing all the talking.

“While Ms.Philips was giving the instructions about our dissection today, Two-Bit thought it’d be funny to take our dissection frog and pretend like it was Kermit the Frog! He held it up and made it walk on two legs. The teacher didn’t notice at first but you know how Two is. So he got on top of the table and started singing the theme song for the show! Holding the dead frog up and dancing with it like he was a muppet too!” Your voice was getting louder by the second. You didn’t mean it too. If you had noticed you would have tuned it down a few notches but you just didn’t pay much attention to it. But Darry… Darry did notice. While he loved listening to you talk about anything, today just wasn’t the day. He already had a raging headache from the heat he had to suffer through all day and the loudness of your voice was making it worse. He was starting to get overwhelmed by the amount of stuff going on in the house. You and Sodapop talking above a normal volume, the TV seemed to be louder than usual, the fridge was making a humming sound, the sauce on the stove was popping from the heat, and the faucet was dripping again.

“Stop! Stop talking! Y/N, there is no need for you to be this loud! Turn the TV off and do something quietly! I’m done listening to you talk about Two-Bit playing with a dead frog! I deal with him enough, I don’t want to hear it! So stop it! Now!” He came into the living room and stood in the door way. He startled you with the way his voice had turned into one of disdain. You looked at him with wide eyes as he yelled at you for being too loud. Your smile that was there no more than 30 seconds ago was now gone and replaced with a straight face. When Darry walked back into the kitchen you quickly got up and turned off the TV like he asked. Well, more like told you to do.

Soda tried to catch your gaze to try to reassure you in anyway he could but you avoided his gaze with everything you could muster. You sat back down on the couch and grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around yourself as you stared off into space, now lost in your own thoughts. The silence that echoed through the house was unbearable for Soda but he didn’t want to make Darry more mad than he already was so he dealt with it.

After a half hour, Darry walked back into the living room, a little calmer than last time but still with an intensity you didn’t want to mess with. “Dinners done. Soda, get Pony from his room.” Soda nodded and quickly got up to fetch Pony. Darry looked at you for a second before turning on his heels and headed back into the kitchen, sitting down at the dining room table. You stood up and followed him in, sitting opposite of him. Soda came back without Pony in tow, he sat down next to you and started filling his plate, just like Darry was doing.

Pony came in the room a minute later, immediately noticing the tension in the room. “What happened? Did I miss something?” The look Soda shot him was hard to miss, Pony seemed to get the hint and dropped it. He sat down at the table and began eating the spaghetti dinner that Darry had made. You all ate in silence for the most part, except for Soda’s attempts at small talk but Darry didn’t take the bait.

Once everyone was done, you all piled your dishes into the sink and left them there for a little bit while you all sat around the living room. Pony was reading, like always. Soda was watching the TV on silent. You were wrapped up in that blanket again, staring at the same spot. And Darry, he had fallen asleep in his chair. You noticed the stress lines on his face even when he was asleep. You wish you could do anything to take away the amount of stress your big brother was dealing with. The only way you knew how was by making his load just a little less full. You decided to get up and wash the dishes for him. It was the least you could do.

After washing all the dishes, drying them off, putting them away and cleaning the counters, you headed off to your room. You would have made it there without being noticed but thanks to that one stubborn floorboard that squeaked and echoed through the whole house, Darry woke up. He was still half asleep when he opened his eyes and saw you. He quickly looked at the clock before turning his gaze back to you. “What are you still doing up? It’s almost 11. You know it’s past your bedtime and you have school tomorrow. Go to bed.”

You didn’t answer, you just nodded and made your way to your room. You felt bad for waking him up and for upsetting him. Guilt was the worst feeling and it was currently eating you alive.

Darry got up from his chair and headed off to bed himself. He had to get up early tomorrow, like everyday.

In the morning, everyone was rushing around the house trying to get ready. Darry was in his room getting dressed. Pony and Soda were fighting over the bathroom. But you, you were poised perfectly ready on the couch. You didn’t want to make Darry wait today, so you got up early enough to get ready before everyone else got up.

After Soda got his hair just how he liked it, he went into the kitchen to have breakfast. His usual, scrambled eggs with jelly and he decided to have some chocolate milk with it today. While his cooking wasn’t the best, he didn’t mind so much. Food was food in his eyes. Darry walked into the kitchen muttering under his breath about running late and still having stuff to do, like the dishes. But as soon as he walked into the kitchen and saw the spotless kitchen, minus Sodapop in the corner, dirtying it up, he was shocked. He knows he didn’t do the dishes last night. He went to bed and forgot to do them. “Soda? Who did the dishes?” He asked with disbelief.

“Oh, those? Y/N did them. You fell asleep last night so she stayed up and did them for you.” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I mean who else would have done them? Darry immediately softened and remembered how he yelled at you last night. Now it was his turn to feel guilt. Soda finished up plating his food.

“C’mon, Soda, we gotta go. I gotta drop everyone off before work.” Darry said, grabbing an apple from the counter before making his way to the front door, noticing how you were sitting there on the couch, all ready. He put his shoes on and while he was grabbing his tool belt, he opened his mouth to say something but Pony and Soda barreled through the living room. Soda was still eating his plate of breakfast and Pony was complaining to Soda about a project he had to do today. They rushed out of the door, you got up and followed after them silently. Darry watched you walk away before following and closing the door behind him.

He let Soda play with the radio in the truck, Pony was reading in the backseat and you were staring at the scenery out the window. He dropped Soda off first before heading to yours and Pony’s school. As soon as he pulled up, Pony spotted Johnny and quickly hopped out of the truck saying a quick Goodbye to Darry before racing off to join his friend. Johnny waved to Darry before heading off with Pony.

You grabbed your backpack and opened the truck door, starting to get out before Darry stopped you. “Hey?” You turned around and looked at him silently. His eyes said almost all he had to say but he said it anyway. “Thanks and I’m sorry.” Well… at least he tried, right? He wasn’t the best at sharing his feelings but you knew he meant it so much. But you didn’t really think he had to say anything because you shouldn’t have been talking so loudly last night. All you did was nod before getting out of the truck.

Later after you made dinner for everyone, while sitting at the table, Darry actually apologized. More than earlier. “Listen, Y/N, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I was just stressed about everything.”

“It’s okay, Dar.” You tried your best to make him understand but he was stubborn.

“It’s not okay. You’re my little sister, my family, I shouldn’t have yelled at you for being yourself… if you want, I’d love to hear about your day?” You smiled at him and nodded. You began telling him all about your day, the good, the bad, the annoying, the exciting. And he just sat there and listened, commenting from time to time but for the most part, just being a good listener.

In the middle of your story telling, Pony seemed to finally register what Darry said originally. “So I did miss something!” He said stubbornly as he looked at Soda with annoyance.

[doraambrose]

Do you have headcanons about jason? And what are some tropes you dislike? generally.

Hello friend!

I have SO many headcannons

Jason loves classic literature, but also Gothic literature (Frankenstein, Dracula, Wuthering Heights, The turn of the screw, etc.)

He's also a huge Broadway nerd and he loves phantom of the opera and wicked

I like to think he's an average cook. Like not a chef, but he can follow a recipe and it turns out the way it's supposed to

He's got a bad smoking habit, but doesn't vape or get high

He seems like a beer, whiskey drinker, but I could also see him with a glass of wine too

He probably smells like cigarettes, motor oil, and dove shampoo for men or something like that

He loves antique cars and is remodeling one

He probably doesn't have great teeth. They're probably kind of crooked and yellow since he's probably not regular with brushing and flossing, etc. With missions and almost dying a lot

He loves kids and is really great with them

He's snores

He's not conventionally attractive, but kind of rugged. Like fuller lips, a more gaunt face, bigger nose that's kind of crooked from being broken so many times

He keeps a neat apartment, but it's pretty basic in terms of decorations since he's not there a lot

I also like to think he likes to watch hockey and basketball, but more because I like to watch that stuff lol

He's got super rough hands and fingers

He's got a deeper voice than the other robins, but not gotham knights or Jensen ackles level

He's not an outdoors man, not a camping kind of guy

There's probably more I have that I'm not thinking of, but if I do, I'll add to this for sure.

As for tropes I don't like

Jason and Bruce have a functional father son relationship

Jason is reckless and rude

Any batcest

Anything miraculous or danny phantom

Tim is afraid of jason

Jason and Damian are closer than anyone else and damian calls him akhi, etc

Jason is asexual, trans. Etc. (This one doesn't bother me as much, only because I know it's a projection to make him more relatable to the person making the headcannons, who are usually asexual or trans, so you do you but it's not for me)

Jason is Hispanic (this one also varies, but it feels icky when people who are white like me have this headcannon and no real reason to back it up, like the only reason is because he's the only robin from the ghetto)

Jasons favorite color is red (basic, only because he's the redhood but his actual favorite color is green)

Lazarus pit madness making him the hulk with glowing green eyes whenever he gets agitated (I made a previous post going more in depth with this)

Jason instantly forgives everyone including Bruce for everything they've done to him and vice versa

Again, there's probably more I'm not thinking of and if I do, I'll add to it. If you guys have any of your own, add them below!

Thanks for the ask!

[shysublimecoffee]

It’s peak Naruto ranting hours right now for me so if you don't like this post ignore it.

Man, if it were any other protagonist confronting Sasuke, they’d handle it way better. Half of them wouldn’t even care about his whole revenge agenda—they’d either let him go either seeing it being reasonable or straight-up join him. Unlike Naruto, with his stupidass toxic obsession and then further tied this grieving man down to his village soil the one where his dead relatives blood remain hidden and out of sight from the supposed heroes of this serious. Lmao.

Sasuke’s walking down this lonely, dark path, and somehow, he’s the unreasonable one for going after the people who put him there? Like, bitch, I’d be pissed too. Did everyone forget this series isn’t sunshine and rainbows? They’re all criminals with fancy titles slapped on to make them look “noble.” Morals? Nah, they checked out a long time ago.

How dare he not smile and forgive everyone like this is some fluffy, feel-good fairytale? Clearly, he should’ve just stayed on his lonely, trauma-filled path and been grateful for the pain Itachi put him through, right? And let’s not forget, everyone else in the series is such a pillar of morality. Just a bunch of criminals with sparkly titles to make them seem “heroic.” But sure, let’s all clutch our pearls and pretend this world runs on sunshine and good vibes when this is a ninja world with every ninja even 12 year olds having bodycounts. 🙄

This series loves slapping the "hero" label on the main cast, but let’s be real—they’re not. Their crimes just happen to be in service of the world’s most powerful military complex. Meanwhile, anyone who dares to oppose the system? Oh, they’re instantly branded as terrorists and missing-nin, because heaven forbid someone questions the status quo.

But sure, let’s keep pretending the heroes are all about justice and peace when they’re just enforcing the same corrupt system that got us here in the first place.

Like, yeah, the Narutoverse is a garbage fire of a world to live in, but if even the MC, with all his "believe it!" energy, can’t change anything meaningful, then what was the point? Dude’s out here chasing his dream, just to end up wearing that goofy hat, symbolizing a legacy of violence and bloodshed.

Congratulations, Naruto, you’re now the face of the same system that ruined everyone’s lives. Big W for the cycle of oppression, I guess.

Naruto ended up as a tool of the system, reinforcing its rules under the guise of “justice” or “peace.” Its crazy how I fw more with Sasuke as an adult when I hated him as a kid lol