#hope you all will understand my decisions

[whatiswrongwithpeople]

Unspoken Understandings

part 2 to “Shattered Silence” (Jayce Talis x reader)

Part 1

Summary: After that fateful night in the lab both ,Jayce and you, have been unsure how to address the sudden shift in your dynamic. However, sometimes all it takes is a certain yordle to force Jayce to take a break from his work and leave the lab.

Warnings: none, no spoilers for s2, no canon plot, a good amount of domestic fluff

Notes: I am really REALLY surprised about how much love “Shattered Silence” has received and hope that you enjoy this follow up just as much. <3 Once again , this has been written in my notes app, I hope I didn’t miss any mistakes.

Tags🏷️ @a-queen-blr @anxious-doodler @brabuscoffwe

The days after the break-in were a blur of frantic packing and moving. You had to find a new place fast—nothing too fancy, just something safe, something that could hold your things and the remaining bits of your research. But the weight of it all pressed down on you, your muscles aching from days spent running between your old and new apartment. You didn’t have the luxury of time to process what had happened the night you stormed into the lab, or even think much about him.

But the nights…

The nights were when you couldn’t stop thinking about how, despite everything, Jayce had held you. How, for a brief moment, you had leaned into him without fear of rejection. You’d allowed yourself to feel vulnerable, and he hadn’t pushed you away.

Now, you found yourself trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest every time you thought about him, but the silence between you both felt suffocating.

Meanwhile, Jayce had buried himself in his work. The breakthrough he’d been chasing for months was nearly within reach, and that goal, that obsession, kept him up at night. But even as his mind raced with equations and possibilities, something nagged at him—a thought that he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried.

It had started that night when you had collapsed into his arms, your trembling form clinging onto him like a lifeline. The way your body had felt in his embrace, how you had allowed him to hold and comfort you… something about it just felt right. And the days since? It was almost like he couldn't think straight without you. Your presence had become something he couldn’t quite get out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, your face would appear—raw, vulnerable, but somehow more real than anything else in his life.

But what exactly was that thing between you? Was it something real, or just the aftershock of an unexpected and stressful situation? Jayce couldn’t even bring himself to ask.

---

It was late when Heimerdinger found him pacing in the lab, his mind so tangled in equations that the pieces didn’t seem to fit anymore.

“You’re working too hard, Jayce.” Heimerdinger’s voice was calm, but there was a quiet insistence behind it. He hadn’t seen the young inventor so distracted in what felt like ages.

Jayce, who had been scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, didn’t even look up. “I’m close to figuring this out. I just need a few more adjustments,” he said, but his voice lacked the usual tone of conviction.

Heimerdinger tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze studying the younger man. It didn’t take long for him to figure out the nature of the inventor’s problems. “You were always quick to tell me how distracting it was when you were around her. How you could hardly think clearly when she was near.” Heimerdinger spoke , a nonchalant tone covering up the intention behind his statement.

Jayce froze, his pen hovering mid-air. He couldn’t remember ever having said that, but since the incident the times of feeling annoyed by you felt so far away. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. That really had been how he’d felt around you, hadn’t it? You had always found a way of breaking through his concentration, making him second-guess his thoughts and decisions.

But now? He didn’t feel distracted anymore. The thought of you didn’t pull him away from his work—it was more like you were... quieting the noise in his mind. Every time he thought about you, his thoughts slowed, calmed. The gears in his brain didn’t spin at a hundred miles per hour anymore. They… rested.

Sighing, Jayce met Heimerdinger’s knowing gaze. "It’s not the same,” he said, his voice quieter now, unsure. “It’s... different.”

Heimerdinger gave him a pointed look, crossing his arms behind his back as he looked up at the young man. “You’ve been working non-stop for days, Jayce. Sometimes the best breakthroughs come when we step away from the work for a little while. You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep this up."

Jayce opened his mouth to argue, but Heimerdinger was already walking toward the door. “I’m forcing you out of here. Take a break. Go see her,” he said, an almost cheerful tone in his voice. And with that, he was gone.

Jayce sat in stunned silence for a moment, the yordle’s words hanging in the air. Go see her? If he was honest to himself, he hadn’t even thought about it. A part of his mind harbouring a feeling of anxiousness regarding the inevitable confrontation. But something in Heimerdinger’s voice made him hesitate. It was as if the older man had seen through all the layers of self-doubt Jayce had buried himself under.

With the scrape of his chair he stood up. He needed to get out of the lab. He needed to breathe. He needed to see you.

---

It wasn’t hard to find your new place. Jayce had always been able to track down anything and anyone, with ease—Piltover wasn’t exactly a large city after all.

But as he stood outside your new apartment, his stomach churned. The weight of everything he had avoided saying hung over him like a dark storm cloud. He had no idea how this would play out—what could he even say? That he hadn’t been able to think straight since the night you’d come to him? That he’d wanted to be there for you, but had no clue how to navigate what had happened between you both?

But before he could completely lose his nerve, the door to the apartment opened, and you appeared.

You looked… tired. Your hair was pulled back in a messy up-do, and your shirt was slightly wrinkled, but there was something comforting about the chaos surrounding you. Not wanting to stare , his golden eyes quickly drifting to the space behind you. It was clearly your place now, your sanctuary, but it was still a work in progress.

You saw him before he could even open his mouth to say anything, and a flicker of surprise crossed your face. “Jayce? What are you—”

“I—uh, I came to check on you,” he said, running a hand through his hair, suddenly awkward. His nervous gaze switching back and forth between you and the wood on your door. “See how you’re doing… with the new place and everything.”

You raised an eyebrow but stepped aside, allowing him to enter. “Well,” you said with a tired half-smile, “it’s been a lot of work. Still don’t know where half my things are.”

Jayce chuckled as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His mind reeling at how your presence suddenly made him feel less anxious, like he didn’t have to carry his burdens anymore . Not here, not now.

You motioned toward a pile of boxes in the corner of the living room, your smile sheepish, almost apologetic. “You wouldn’t happen to be good at putting together furniture, would you?”

Without a second thought, Jayce was moving toward the pile, rolling up his sleeves with a quiet determination. “I can manage,” he said with a grin, glancing back at you. “But only if you promise not to laugh at my attempts.”

You smirked, feeling a flicker of warmth in your chest. “No promises,” you teased, but there was a lightness in your voice now where tiredness had been before.

For the next few hours, the two of you worked side by side, not really talking, but filling the space between you with easy silence. There was something almost intimate in the simplicity of it—a shared task, each moment feeling like it stitched something new into the fabric of your newfound connection. The screech of a screwdriver, the soft clink of metal against wood, and the occasional, shared chuckle when one of you fumbled—it was like you were building something together, but not just the furniture. It was this. Whatever it was that had started to grow between you.

You worked in rhythm, so comfortable with him that it didn’t even feel strange. You caught yourself looking up at him a few times, watching the way he moved, how the muscles in his arms flexed when assembling the pieces and silently admiring the way the light caught the lines of his face. Jayce wasn’t just the scientist, the bold, sometimes aloof figure you'd known—here, in this space, he felt… real. Vulnerable, even. The arrogant mask you had become so accustomed to had slipped away, leaving only the person beneath. And for the first time, you saw him as someone who was just as human as you.

When the last piece of furniture was assembled, both of you collapsed onto the couch. The apartment was still a mess, but somehow, it felt more like home now. After hours of unpacking, moving boxes, and trying to make sense of the chaos, you and Jayce had both reached a kind of quiet, shared exhaustion. There was something about the way the late afternoon light filtered through the windows—golden and warm—that made everything feel a little less overwhelming.

Jayce was beside you on the couch, leaning back against the cushions with his sleeves still rolled up, hair unkempt and his face still a little flushed from the work. Normally, by now you’d be bickering with each other, exchanging sarcastic remarks til one of you would have enough and storm out of the room. But ever since your distraught form had stormed into his lab, that usual dynamic was missing. The crackling back-and-forth had faded into something quieter, something more... honest.

“So, this is it, huh?” you said, glancing around the room. It was a mix of completed and incomplete, a snapshot of a new beginning. “Still a long way to go, but... it’s getting there.”

Jayce surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on the boxes and the half-finished furniture scattered around. “It’s... definitely not what I expected,” he said, his lips twitching into a smile. “You still got a ton of stuff for someone who has been robbed.” You laughed lightly, but it wasn’t a tense laugh like it would have been just a few days ago. It was more... genuine.

The silence stretched a little longer, and you found yourself thinking about how easily you used to hide behind the jabs and insults. You had both spent so much time pretending—pretending that you couldn’t stand each other, pretending like there was nothing more beneath the surface. But nevertheless, despite years of constant back and forth, Jayce had been the one your heart had led you to when your mind was in a state of absolute panic.

“You know, I’ve spent a lot of time pretending,” you said softly, looking at him from the corner of your eye. “Pretending like we couldn’t get along, pretending like I didn’t... care.”

Jayce’s eyes flicked over to you, something unreadable in his gaze. For a moment, he didn’t respond, allowing the truth to settle between you.

“I think I was pretending, too,” he said finally, his voice low and honest. “Pretending I didn’t want... this.” He gestured loosely between you two, his hand hovering in the air, as if the words were more difficult to articulate than the feelings behind them.

There it was. That truth you had both danced around for so long. And now, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt like a breath you both had been holding ever since Jayce had comforted you that fateful night, waiting for the right moment to exhale.

You turned toward him, your body instinctively moving closer. You didn’t have to think about it. The space between you was just too small now, too important to leave empty. As if by reflex, your hand reached out, softly brushing his arm, letting your fingers rest gently against his. The touch was tentative at first but you felt him respond instantly—his hand turning slightly, his fingers seeking yours, meeting you halfway.

It was subtle, a small connection that sent a rush of warmth through you. Neither of you said anything. The words didn’t feel necessary anymore. Jayce shifted a little, his knee brushing against yours, his hand gently drawing you closer. He wasn’t in a rush. You weren’t either. But as the space between you closed even more, something shifted, and you both knew the moment was right.

Jayce’s thumb traced along the back of your hand, his touch light but deliberate. Slowly, he turned toward you, his body leaning in, and you could feel his breath on your lips before his mouth even touched yours. It wasn’t a desperate move, but one full of quiet intent, like this was something that had been building between you for far too long.

His lips met yours gently at first—just a soft brush, testing, as though waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Neither of you did. The kiss deepened, slowly, naturally. His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your head slightly as his other hand slid around your waist, his electric touch finding its way underneath your shirt, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours felt so right, so easy, just like it had back in the lab when he had shielded you from your troubles, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You melted into him. There was no rush, no hesitation now. Just the soft pressure of his lips on yours, the tender way his hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if memorizing the feel of of your skin underneath his fingertips.

When you pulled back, there was no immediate rush to fill the space with words. The air between you felt charged, but in a quiet, intimate way. You both breathed deeply, your lips tingling from the kiss, your pulse still racing a marathon in your chest.

Jayce’s hand lingered on your waist, his thumb absently tracing circles on your skin. “Guess we don’t have to pretend to not like each other anymore,” he murmured, his voice hushed, almost unsure, like the weight of everything was finally settling in. You shook your head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as your hand found his again. “No. I guess not.”

Jayce leaned back into the couch, his body angled closer to yours now. His eyes twinkled with that familiar teasing glint, but there was something new in the way he looked at you. Something lighter. “So, dinner? I think I’ve earned it.”

You chuckled, your fingers still intertwined with his as you stood. “You’ve already helped me move half my furniture, Jayce. You’re definitely sticking around.”

He flashed you a relaxed grin, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied sigh. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

Letting go of his hand, you turned toward the kitchen, starting to gather ingredients, and Jayce followed you, leaning in just enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Need any help?”

You glanced at him with a smile. “Unless you’ve got a Hextech gadget to chop vegetables, I’ve got it under control.”

Jayce chuckled and stepped back, settling in at the table as you started to prepare a meal. There was something comforting in his quiet presence, in the easy rhythm of the evening. You moved around each other effortlessly, the space between you filled with warmth rather than words.

Soon enough, you set the table and sat down together, the simple meal feeling more like a shared moment than just food. Jayce took a bite, then raised an eyebrow in approval. “I’m impressed. Didn’t expect you to be this good at it.”

You laughed, your fingers brushing his as you reached for your drink. “I’m full of surprises.” He smiled at that, his eyes lingering on your face , as if trying to capture the moment.

After dinner, you started to clear the table and do the dishes when Jayce moved to help. You smiled and gently took the dish towel from his hands. “I’ve got this,” you said softly. He gave you a mock pout in return. “I was just getting into it.” Looking up at him, you smiled fondly at his behaviour. “You’ve done enough for today.”

Jayce stepped closer, golden eyes soft as his hand reached out for the towel again. “I don’t mind,” he murmured, his warmth filling the tiny space of your kitchen and wrapping around you like a safety blanket.

“Thanks,” you whispered, cheeks burning with a soft blush as you suddenly felt the quiet comfort of his presence in a way that made everything else feel far away.

Jayce leaned in to brush a kiss against your forehead, light but sincere. “Anytime.”

And just like that, everything felt perfectly in place.

[supernotnatural2005]

'Ride em' Cowgirl'

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY, swearing, fluff.

AN: Here it is, the requested part 2 of my 'Giddy up Cowboy' Drabble. I'm blown away by all of the love and support on my work lately and had to give you something tasteful in return for all your lovely appreciation. I hope you enjoy ☺️

Tagging: @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog and @rizlowwritessortof

Main Masterlist

The ride back to the motel feels like an eternity. The engine of the Impala hums beneath you, a comforting sound you’ve grown used to over the past few months of hunting with the Winchesters. But tonight, that familiar hum does little to calm the storm that’s building in the air between you and Dean.

Sam sits in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the electricity crackling in the space between you and his older brother. His head is turned slightly, eyes focused on his phone as he scrolls through something, probably researching the next hunt. He’s completely oblivious, lost in his world, but you and Dean? You're both caught up in something far more dangerous.

You shift in your seat, the leather of the Impala's interior squeaking slightly beneath you, but it’s nothing compared to the way your body is reacting to the proximity of Dean, to the memory of the words you said back at the bar. "I think I can ride him better." The double meaning of the comment, the tease that you’d laid on him, was still hanging heavily in the air.

You glance at him, his profile visible from the corner of your eye. His jaw is tight, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too hard, and you can’t help but notice the way his bicep flexes with the tension. The urge to reach over and touch him, to bridge that last bit of space between you, is almost overwhelming.

Sam’s voice pulls you from your thoughts as he glances over his shoulder, a slight grin on his face. “You two are awfully quiet. You sure everything’s alright?”

Dean clears his throat, his voice low, a little too steady. “Yeah, we’re fine, Sammy. Just tired.”

Sam nods, not catching the edge in his brother’s voice, and goes back to whatever he’s reading on his phone. You, however, catch the way Dean’s eyes flicker to you—a brief glance, but enough to make your pulse quicken. You feel that familiar heat rise between you both, the kind that only the two of you understand.

Every mile feels like it stretches on forever. You catch Dean’s gaze again, and this time, his eyes linger a little longer, something raw and unspoken in them. You know he’s struggling to keep his composure, just as you are.

Finally, the motel comes into view. The neon lights of the sign flicker, the soft hum of the parking lot filling the quiet car. Sam lets out a loud yawn and stretches, oblivious to the way the tension between you and Dean has reached its breaking point.

“Man, I’m pretty beat.” Sam says, giving you both a tired smile as he climbs out of the car. You and Dean follow suit, both of you stepping out with a quiet but unmistakable urgency.

Dean’s hand brushes against yours as he walks you to your room—just a few doors before his and Sam’s, and it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. You both stand there for a moment, looking at your motel room door in front of you, the unspoken weight of everything you've both been avoiding for so long finally sinking in. 

Sam walks on ahead, muttering something about needing to “hit the hay,” and you both watch as he disappears into the room before Dean turns to you, his voice low and controlled. 

"You weren’t kidding earlier, huh?”

"No," you say, your voice just above a whisper, because you can’t take it anymore, and it’s enough to send the heat between you two spiralling. "I wasn’t.”

Dean doesn’t need any more encouragement. He moves first, closing the distance between you two with a single, decisive step. His lips crash against yours, hard and desperate—like he’s been holding back everything he’s been feeling for far too long. 

His mouth is warm and insistent, and you open up to him instinctively, your hands finding their way to the open fabric of his flannel, pulling him even closer. 

You moan into the kiss, clinging to him as if he were your last source of oxygen. Consuming what he was willing to give as long as he was willing to give it. Dean’s hands slide down to your hips, gripping hard enough to leave small fingerprint indents when your tongue slides past his lips. His responding groan is low, bordering on a growl, and he walks you back against your door, his hands unable to stay in one place for too long. 

His touch, his scent, and his delectable mouth were quickly descending you into a state of ecstasy. You were already hooked and desperate for more. 

“Inside.” You mumble against his lips, and he offers you a curt nod before he breaks the kiss, allowing you a moment to breathe as you turn to unlock your door. He’s already pressing himself against you from behind, his hands wandering from your hips to boldly cupping your breasts over your thin t-shirt, beneath your jacket.

It takes you until your third try before you finally stumble inside. Dean quick to kick the door shut with his foot as he ravishes your neck with wet kisses and thumbs at your pebbled nipples poking through your lace bra, risen from both his ministrations and the cool air.

You push back against him and gasp at the feel of his obvious arousal through his jeans. His reaction to you sent a thrill of excitement through you as well as a feeling of pride swelling in your chest. 

"Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.” Dean pants into your neck as you roll your hips against him. He presses into you with each roll, making his eyes roll back and his hands move to find purchase on your hips again. 

“I think I have some notion.” You quip with one last push back against him before turning in his arms. You offer him a sly smile and look up at him through your lashes as you trail and hand down his firm chest and over his toned stomach before cupping him through his jeans. His hips instinctively thrust into your palm, and you grant him some relief by adding pressure and rubbing your hand along his length. 

His gaze is stormy as he looks down at you, watching you watch your own hand grope him in wonder. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. Suddenly, he pulls your hand from him, the feeling both incredible yet frustratingly not enough, and you look up at him in question, but he’s quick to reclaim your lips again. 

The urgency from before is back with a vengeance as you claw at each other’s clothes, peeling away layers upon layers between heated kisses, until finally, you’re left in nothing but your panties, and Dean in his boxers. 

His gaze roams over you unapologetically, taking in every curve and scar; your heaving breasts on display with a hunger you’d never seen in another man's eyes before. But there was more behind his desire. There was a look of longing, of wanting this for so long and finally having it, simmering within those pools of green. And you understood. Because you felt the exact same. 

As if in sync, you reached for one another again. Dean’s hands framed your face as he dipped down to kiss you again. This time softer, more tender, making you all but melt into his arms. He walked you backwards, never parting his lips from yours, until the backs of your thighs met the edge of the mattress. 

You pulled away from him then and climbed up onto the bed, with him quickly following, crawling up and over you like a predator stalking his prey. Your head fell back onto the pillows as his firm body covered yours, his mouth quickly attaching itself to your neck, kissing, sucking, and nibbling at the tender flesh until you were bucking your hips up against him. 

He smirks into your neck, loving the fact you were so reactive to him, even by the simplest of touches. He decides to give you some relief and trails his mouth down your body, stopping at your chest. He waited for you to look at him, his warm breath fanning over your perked nipple, and only when you finally meet his gaze does he wrap his lips around your pebbled nub. 

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, watching his eyes fall shut as he sucked and nibbled at your nipple. The sensation was almost overwhelming, and your hips ground for any kind of friction to relieve the building ache between your legs. Your hand slid into his hair, pulling harshly at the soft spikes atop his head, making him groan, and the vibration sent tiny shocks of pleasure throughout your nerve endings. 

He moves onto your other breast, the wetness of your abandoned nipple cooling against the air conditioning unit, softly buzzing in the background, the feeling only adding to the incredible pleasure his mouth was giving your other breast. 

“Fuck, Dean.” You gasp, just as his left hand trailed down your side and sneakily slipped into your panties. Two of his thick digits were quick to find your clit and you shuddered from the contact. He begins to circle your bundle of nerves slowly, much like the motion of his tongue against your nipple. 

You fist his hair again, moaning loudly as he dips an experimental finger into your soaked hole, gathering your wetness and resuming his attention back on your clit. 

“You’re so wet, baby.” He grunts against your chest, frowning in concentration as he picks up his pace. “That all for me?” All you could do was nod and then cry out as his fingers rubbed you faster, sending jolts of pleasure down to the tips of your toes, which soon curled as your body began to tense. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You repeated it like a mantra, the coil in your belly wound tight and ready to spring. 

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over my fingers.” He husks in your ear, and you look down your body, watching the muscles in his forearm dance with effort from the maddening pace of the hand buried deep in your underwear. The sight was your undoing, and your whole body stiffened. Mouth dropping open in a silent scream, the sound trapped in your throat as your body convulsed and shuddered against him. 

Dean’s hand began to slow with your descent into bliss, coming to a complete stop once you deflated back onto the mattress, completely boneless. 

“Holy shit.” You huffed with an incredulous chuckle because, holy shit. You’re not even sure you’d ever come so hard with your own hand. And if just his fingers could bring you so much pleasure, it left you wondering what else you were in store for. Although you didn’t have to wonder for much longer when Dean shifted beside you and you felt the straining press of his cock against your thigh. 

You turned to him and cupped his cheek with your right hand, pulling him into a slow and sensuous, grateful kiss. He hummed happily against your lips as you rolled him onto his back. His arms coming up to wrap around you, to keep you close as you took his breath away. 

With him distracted, you grasped his tented length, massaging him as best you could through the fabric of his boxers. He broke the kiss and dropped his head back against the pillows, eyes shut tight as you relieved some of the pressure. 

You smiled devilishly at him and rose to your knees beside him. He watched you in wonder as you peeled the last item of clothing from him, helping you by lifting his hips. Your eyes widened in both shock and amazement at the sight of him. Your mouth watered and pussy throbbed, desperate for a taste, for the feel of him inside you. 

You gathered him in your hand, relishing in the warm weight of his impressive cock. Dean released a deep sigh at the feel of your delicate hand slowly, teasingly pumping him. He was as hard as granite, throbbing in your hand, and you marvelled at the way your simple movements had him panting, wanting and desperate beneath you. 

Laying comfortably between his parted thighs, You ran your tongue along the length of him. The deep, responsive moan from him giving you the encouragement to do it again and again until he was slick with your saliva and fisting the sheets beneath him tight. 

“Holy.. shit.” Dean gasped as you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his silky head before sinking your mouth onto him. The action brought with it a salty tang and a variety of praises and profanities. Between your legs, a new wave of wetness coated your already ruined underwear as you worked him over in your mouth and with your hand. 

Looking up at him, he was a sight to behold. His skin glistening, chest heaving, sinful lips parted, and eyes squeezed shut. He was beautiful in every scenario it seemed. 

“Oh God.” Dean’s eyes snapped open then, his body tensing, and he quickly sat up, pulling you from him. You looked at him alarmed, wiping at the spit collected at the corners of your mouth. 

“What? What’’s wrong?” You lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to take a few deep breaths before he released a breathless chuckle.

“You were about to make me cum.” He told you honestly, and you blushed a little, but wondered why he’d stopped you? 

“And?” You giggled softly, though squeaked, when he suddenly manhandled you into his lap. You had to bite back a groan at the feel of his hard length bumping against you through your panites. 

“And? I was promised a ride.” His voice is low and sultry, but his face is filled with his usual boyish, giddy excitement. You giggled and shook your head, realising you’d somehow fallen for a complete dork. 

You cup his scruffy cheeks in your palms and plant a warm kiss against his lips, the smiles on your faces quickly fading as your tongue swept against his, reigniting the ache between your legs and the need for more. 

You reluctantly pull away and slide off of him, removing and kicking away your underwear before climbing back onto him. He welcomes you eagerly, claiming your mouth once again with a kiss filled with passion and ignition. 

You slowly guide him onto his back and pull away breathless. His hands slide from your back to your hips as you sit up, grinning down at him. His green eyes look up at you, dark and entranced, roaming over every inch of you in amazement. 

You bite down on your lip as you settle against him, the wet seam of your pussy covering his length, making you both groan at the contact. You roll your hips experimentally, your head falling back as you steadied yourself against his firm stomach, picking up your pace until you were slick and ready. 

“Fuck sweetheart. You’re a dream.” Dean says breathlessly and with an honest gaze. You smirk down at him, slowing your roll, and he watches you. 

“I think it’s time I make do on that promise.” You tell him. “Think I can last the full 90 minutes?” You tease, and Dean chuckles, rubbing lovingly at your thighs, hips, and up your sides. 

“I have no doubts, baby.” 

In one swift movement, you rise up on your knees and grasp his length, angling him just right before you sink down onto him. Both of your mouths drop open in respective pleasure. You’re slick enough to take him most of the way, only rocking gently a few times until he’s fully sheathed. 

“Fuuck.” He moans, and it’s long and drawn out because Dean can’t quite fathom the feeling of you wrapped tightly around him. He’s been to heaven, hell, and everything in between, but this was something else entirely. The best pie he’d ever tasted, the feeling he got behind the wheel of baby—all things paling in comparison to this moment.

Once the initial stretch of him blurred from pain into pleasure, did you then rise up and slowly slide back down, gasping in almost disbelief at the incredible feel of him inside you. You repeated the movement again and again until you built up a steady rhythm, rocking, rolling, and grinding your hips to find the most intense spots of pleasure. 

All the while Dean let you ride him, watching in awe as you did in fact “ride him better." However, to give you a challenge, he bucked his hips up into you, meeting you thrust for thrust. You held on tightly, eyes rolling back at the much harsher thrusts hitting you just right, but you weren’t about to let him win. 

With one hand firmly planted on his chest, you leaned back, reaching your arm around to fondle his balls. Dean jolted in surprise but moaned deep and loud as you gently caressed them in your palm. You smiled in triumph as he relinquished his thrusts, and you sped up your movements, feeling his balls draw tight. 

“Oh, fuck, oh shit.” His words were breathless and strained as his body tensed, brow furrowing, hands gripping tight onto your hips as he came. Hard. You felt his warm seed coat your walls along with a long, deep groan as you circled your hips, milking every last drop. 

You grinned down at him as he collapsed back onto the bed, panting hard and weightless. You could feel him still twitching inside you, and you involuntary clenched at the sensation, making his head pop back up to look at you. 

His eyes were wild, his chest flushed red, and wordlessly he slid a hand over to your lower stomach, his thumb pressing against your sensitive clit, making you gasp. Dean’s eyes closed at the feeling of you clenching around him but began circling your clit with the digit, watching on in admiration as you slowly rocked your hips into his hand, chasing your own sweet release. 

Dean was a generous lover, but you’d given him a run for his money in that department tonight. It was only common curtesy he had you come again. Even if your pussy was all but strangling his sensitive cock, it felt incredible—a sensation he’d never felt before. He could feel himself hardening again at just the sight and feel of you, surprising you as much as himself. 

“Oh God.” You cried out, your walls fluttering around him as you ground into his hand, his thumb flicking against your clit, harder and faster until you were shaking above him. Then he thrust his hips up, once, twice, three times, and you were falling apart. Your body tensed and twitched above him, your mouth falling open in a silent cry as the white hot pleasure of your orgasm rippled through you.  

“Shit.” Your eyes popped open when you felt it. Warmth spread inside you for a second time as Dean cried out in painful pleasure. Holy shit was all that you could comprehend as he tensed beneath you. 

Shocked silence filled the room as you both stared at one another, catching your breaths, until a chuckle of disbelief slipped from his lips, triggering your own laughter.  

You fell onto his chest, letting his soft cock slip from you with a slight hiss from him. You soothed a hand a long his chest, planting a sweet kiss there before leaning up and coming face to face with him. 

"So, was I…Better?” You wondered curiously, whilst absently playing with his mused, sweat slicked hair. Dean grinned in response and cupped your jaw tenderly. 

"Oh, you so were." He replied before pulling your lips to his. 

AN: Okay so this one was just pure smut! 😂 but let me know what you think? Was this a good tie up for these two 👀

[carmyberzattosjournal]

S2 Entry 1: Want More?

Photo credit: Pinterest

Summary: Carmy needs to make his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) feel good after she has a grueling day at work. (1043 Words) SMUT.

Warnings: Swearing, comfort, fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, p in v sex, finger sucking, dword use, Soft Dom!Carmy.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in CB Journals Season 2 and will be tagged with #cb journals s2.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Prompt: Snowstorm

I remember a conversation happening at Noma that went a little something like this: what is your favorite time and place to have sex?

I, of course, didn’t participate, being a socially terrified barely-adult who had no experiences (yet) and also too focused on my prep to hold a conversation—though the being focused part held more weight in my decision not to speak up because, and I hope I’ve established this, my connection to food is catastrophic. Talking divides attention. Humans are not built to multi-task; at best, we can flip back and forth between a few tasks in rapid succession, but if you wanted to get good at something—and I mean really good at something; knock people on their ass, smoke those motherfuckers for daring to challenge you—you need to cut out all the noise, bury all the bullshit, and put yourself to work.

So, yeah, I didn’t participate. I don’t even remember what the rest of the conversation was, I’ll be honest, because I tuned it out the moment I heard the question. But it’s been haunting me as of late. Not because I wanted to know what all the other chefs were talking about, but because I might have accidentally found the answer for myself.

Late November, about 10 pm or something. Wind howling against the windows, ice pelting the glass, no car horns, no trains, no people yapping or yelling outside, no noisy neighbors. This soft, gentle quiet that permeated the bone-crushing cold that was my apartment bedroom minus one radiator.

Because landlords are fucking demons.

The only other sounds are of us, of her moans, these saccharine, high-pitched, breathy noises that tumble from her mouth in a dulcet melody, the creaking of the bed, of the ragged breaths I’m dragging past my throat. Her hands are still cold as they rest limp against my abdomen but are warmer than they were when she first tangled them in my hair. She’s helpless, powerless, vulnerable; has forfeited her entire being to me. I’m cold, I’m tired, I’m mentally drained; do what you want to me, Carmy.

Do what I want? What I want is for you to feel like you’re in heaven, my love. I want to hear you whine in my ear about how good it feels, how full you are, how you don’t want me to stop. I want you to arch your back just. Like. That. And flutter around me with another mind-numbing orgasm, babble my name like it’s a prayer.

“Is that good, pretty girl?” I murmured in her ear. “Want more?”

I already knew the answer.

Didn’t mean hearing it wasn’t spine-tingling.

“Please, Carmy.” She weakly hiked her leg higher up my side.

“Please, what, princess?”

Did I understand what she meant? Yes. Even without her saying it, her leg tightening around me, the shadow of her larynx as she swallowed and fought for words, it told me everything I needed to know. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy making a mess of her. I love listening to her stumble over and give up on her words because she feels too good to corral them into a coherent sentence. Makes me feel powerful. In control. Fuck, I needed to feel like I was in control because everything else in my life was spiraling out of control.

“M-more… Harder…”

I hooked my hand under her knee and brought it up, fucking her even deeper. She arched her spine, threw her head back, swore.

“Like that?”

“Yes! Yes, fuck, yes, just like that… Don’t stop…”

 She dragged her fingernails up my torso, dug them into my chest. She was so tight, so hot, so slick; I was fucking delirious. The only thing more important to me than my high was hers. I needed to hear her fall apart again. Come on, princess, show me how pretty you are when you come apart.

“Gimme another one, huh, pretty girl?”

Her coherence went two orgasms ago. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck… yes, sir… fuck, that’s so good… Please… please…” She didn’t even know what she was begging for at that point. It was just babbling. Her beautiful, complex, multi-faceted mind, forever going 7 directions at once, synthesizing information from everything and everyone, solving life’s most complex problems—off. Quiet. Empty Like the city outside, buried under 12 inches of snow. And the night was still young.

“Daddy, please…”

Daddy?

“Please, what, princess?”

She called me daddy?

“W-wanna cum…”

Fuck, I could get used to being called that.

I brought my hand down between us and rubbed her clit. She arched her back and whined my name. That’s it, pretty girl. That’s really fucking good, isn’t it? That’s exactly what my baby girl needed after such a rough day at work, huh? Needed Daddy’s dick filling you up and making you forget everything you were so stressed about.

She clamped a hand around my wrist, the one that was holding her leg, and dragged it up so she could close her lips around my thumb. She sucked, pressing her tongue against the pad, and despite my dulled sensations, it was fucking disastrous how fucking good that felt. It was a stunning sight—her eyes closed, cheeks reddened, sweaty hair sticking to her forehead, her plush lips around my thumb because she just needed a sensation in her mouth.

I could burn it into my memory if it wasn’t for how fucking close to coming apart I was. I didn’t have words. The heat in the pit of my stomach roared into an inferno, sent a wave of blistering warmth up my abdomen and my chest. Fuck, she was going to ruin me by being like this, and I wanted every bit of it. Please, keep being so needy. Please, call me Daddy again, beg me for more, whine my name, lose your words, suck on my thumb because all other sensibilities have escaped. You know I am for you; I want you to feel so good that you can’t think anymore. I need you to feel so good that you can barely breathe.

She pried her eyes open to meet mine.

“Go ahead, pretty girl,” I whispered.

Late evening. Middle of a snowstorm. That’s my answer.

Tags: @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899 @carmenberzattosgf

[kurishiri]

my thoughts on the presence (or rather, lack thereof) of dub-con in alfons’ route in en

thank you for the ask anon! since it contains spoilers for al’s route, i will put under a cut. also it is a long post!

hi anon! i did notice this, yes! they also made changes to some other scenes as well for a similar purpose. as far as i heard, it is sort of a general trend for the en localization to water down scenes that may be considered dub- or non-con; apparently, they have done this with other ikémen series games like iképri.

in alfons’ case, though, i have some mixed feelings overall abt doing so in this route. i hope i can explain myself ok!

on one hand, i think making it more “soft” so to speak does make it feel more accessible for readers in the western fanbase, who in general seem more sensitive (?) to the presence of dub- or non-con, compared to japan. i would honestly love for many people to be able to read his route and not feel super uncomfy? while doing so. so in this respect, i can get behind this decision.

that said.

i feel like other aspects of the story have been sacrificed as a result of this. i believe that, in the original story, scenes play out the way they do for a reason. if there is dub-con, they probably arent putting it all in just for the teehee dubious consent teehees. for example, part of what made this story interesting to me in the japanese version was that against the so-called conventional notion, sex was not used as a means to bring characters closer together, but more so as a way to make them more distant. theres this sort of irony and a theme of isolation (ironically in part due to sex) that i felt was more apparent in japan, in part highlighted due to the dub-con. i feel like making kate want this beforehand is more safe, yes, but also it sort of waters down this irony a bit compared to japan imho.

another consequence is in kate’s character. i think its kind of a strange change that in some parts of the story surrounding those scenes, kate is pretty insistent on facing reality to the fullest, but then one ask from alfons and shes ready to indulge in a fantasy, away from reality, as she asked for it. but despite that, she tries to push him as far away as she can. it sort of makes me feel there’s a gap or blip in her character if that makes sense. part of what made these scenes dub-con maybe is how alfons wanted to give an escape to kate via sex, but kate didn’t want that escape bc she wants to face reality. it creates more conflict between them.

part of kates character development in alfons’ route, too, is going from being staunch in the start of the story, to learning, questioning, and deciding for herself what is considered right? and what is considered wrong? as the story progresses. but with the whole kate wanting it since the beginning, this flaw is sort of lost since the start, making her development feel a bit more static, as by her saying yes to alfons since the beginning, it already establishes her as someone who wants to see reality, but also knows to see the benefit in an escape or a fantasy, when this is sort of what she is meant to develop into by the end.

ftr im not saying these things r completely lost! just that they feel a bit watered down? a bit less engaging? if thats the word, as a kinda byproduct of softening up the dub-con scenes. so i feel the impact may be a bit less compared to japan. but, again, i do understand why they chose to make such changes as well to en.

overall, i dont hold very negative thoughts abt it. nor do i really fully like it either. maybe its bc i play on both servers, but i feel like en just… doesn’t get an experience you could get in japan, which kinda gives me mixed feelings in a way as well, i suppose. i kind of feel that en deserves to read what was dished out in japan, without it being chosen for the fanbase what should be hidden from them (had there not been fan translators translating stuff more “word for word.”)

[littlemanthings]

Dear Fandom,

To say I am deeply disappointed in what this fandom has become is an understatement, but because I really don't want to start aggression by using vulgar language or to stress the VAs out anymore than they probably are; I'm going to try keep it at a certain level. But man, there are better ways to ask for a whole army to come after you with pitchforks like this was the fucking middle ages and without having all this damage being done.

And now we're losing a big part of this show because some people just had to cross the line over a hundred fucking times now. I'm so ever proud and impressed with Kat for dealing with this and for so long— and with three other jobs as well? All I can do is hope that she knows how important she and all the others who work with the shows is to us all.

I don't like getting personal, but if there is that small chance that any of them read this I just wanted to share this with you; about like two-three years ago I was very lonely, and my head space was not in the right place, but in that same year I also found the SAMS channel, and my heart kinda just made a nest there. Then Lunar and Earth started their own thing and things just felt better. For a while I really thought one of these years was going to be mark the end for me, but these characters, the writing, everything about it made me want to stay a little longer— just until I got to see how it ended, I would tell myself. And now I'm pretty sure I do want to be here long after the curtains fall.

So thank you, if I could say it a million times I would. Thank you for making Earth who she is. Thank you for representing the rest of us girls out there. Thank you for reigniting my love for writing. Thank you for unknowingly raising a young teenager who wants to live thanks to you and a lot of other people (you too Davis and Reed).

To clarify a few things; I am not in any way trying to convince Kat to not quit writing for the shows, I understand her decision and fully support it. I hope to god I didn't make things weird or project myself onto this situation, I really just wanted Kat to know she means a whole lot to us.

[cynthiav06]

Annabeth stans and Percabeth shippers are talking about how ooc Annabeth is in WOTTG with her thinking Percy is stupid as if she hasn't constantly made fun of Percy's intelligence since the very beginning. As if she doesn't do it in every book, multiple times. Rick's characterization of Annabeth isn't changing, people are finally just growing up and realizing their fave ship when they were 12 isn't healthy. But instead of actually acknowledging that it's a bad ship they just blame the author.

Warnings: This is going to be a rant; bear with me. People from the "take everything as a personal offense" group stop reading. Will give us both the luxury of a peaceful mind.

It's easier to blame Rick, I think, given his series of shit decisions. The Wrath of a Triple Goddess is a complete abomination, and so is Chalice of the Gods in many ways. But at least it has helped readers understand the glaring flaws of Percabeth as a ship. How Percy's character is butchered to hype up Annabeth.

And I am completely exhausted of trying to get any of them to think rationally and in an unbiased manner. I can't make a willfully blind individual see sense after all.

But yeah, Annabeth has many, and I mean many character flaws throughout the series. The number of times I have made a post on Annabeth's flaws or even why Percabeth is incompatible.... At this point, I believe open-minded and careful readers are going to see and make their own conclusions, and the blind shippers will keep doing their own thing. This , I think, was my most recent post and will probably be one of my last ones on a similar topic. Unless I get newer asks that have some different viewpoints that I can actually explore cause, all has been said so far, I think.

I had a feeling that things would get better as they got older, more mature, you know, an Annabeth character arc of some sort. Maybe exploring the positive and negative nuances of Percabeth or even Percy's suicidal thoughts, non existent self esteem and how Annabeth has been unknowingly feeding into those.

She is one of the more iconic characters to people even outside the fandom. One from a very, very , and exclusive pool of actually strong female characters and the way her character is devolving isn't helping anything.

-------------------------------------------------------

All of Riordan's characters have such high potential, and the amount of plots he could explore is staggering, and yet he still dishes out the same generic plot again and again. He is in it for the money now, has been for a while, and so there's no hope there.

This might be a very hot take, but I think romance ruined the series. Rick kept slapping romantic relationships on every character as if that would suddenly make things better. Give them a relationship rather than explore their trauma. I guess it's the easier of the two.

But seriously, Caleo? Jiper? Solangelo ? (I can see the hate comments already). Whatever he was doing with Reyna, but at least she wasn't completely butchered.

Rick's problem is that he keeps giving more importance to romantic relationships and makes that the entire personality of a character.

He butchered Percy, even Jason at times, Leo bloody Valdez and Nico more prominently.

The way Percy and Nico's very deep and volatile bond and heavily dynamic relationship was butchered and distorted to feed into Solangelo and Percabeth, and I can't possibly understate how highly that's been going on.

Then Luke and Thalia's relationship was completely butchered for no absolute reason. I have no idea why. They were in love or at least had romantic feelings for each other, and Thalia just woke up and wanted to kill him? He literally gave all the angst to Annabeth even though Thalia had known him longer, and they had a more nuanced bond.

Jason's relationship with Camp Jupiter individuals was completely scrapped, his and Reyna's dynamic completely watered down, or even his and Leo's great friendship discarded all for Jiper or whatever else was shoved at him.

-------------------------------------------------------

As opposed to this whole shit show, I loved the relationships in the Magnus Chase series and Kane Chronicles. That was good stuff. Both character relationships and romantic ones even though I am pretty sure he got a lot of diverse representation wrong or so I have read recently.

Then there's the stupid, blind, bigot part of the fandom that just can't help themselves. I mean dumb Percy takes, Annabeth stans ruining Percy's character arcs and overinflating Annabeth's character, which in turn made Rick do the same.Then the boring Jason thing? What the hell was that? It's like everyone missed the point of why Jason is the way he is. I am going to make a post on that soon, but seriously, the shit that's been going on.

Then the shippers. Solangelo stans and Percabeth stans. They have single handedly ruined the ships for me with their distorted ideas of character dynamics. And their blatant and brutal hate against other Percy or Nico ships is just ridiculous and heavily toxic.

It's a fandom, not a monopoly. Everyone can have their own little thing as long as you don't meddle in someone else's own thing. Let everyone enjoy their own thing.

And for all our sakes, at this point, just pick your own version of canon. Choose which books to stop at. Trust me, it's less frustrating that way.

[sammakesart]

In Which the Dread Wolf Is Saved By, of All Things, Love.

The blade slices into his palm, blood seeping from the wound and soaking into the leather of his glove. A thought emerges as she watches him: It is the same hand that once held the mark on her own palm. He squeezes his fist, the blood dripping down onto the stone. 

“My life force now sustains the Veil.”

His eyes find hers, a brief moment as their gazes meet and hold. An eternity, over too soon. 

“With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.”

Her gaze falls to his fist, and her heart aches. It is done.

“The Titan’s dreams are mad from their imprisonment. I cannot kill the blight, but I can help soothe its anger.”

She watches as he looks down to the dagger, then extends it to Rook.

“I will go,” he says. His eyes meet hers once more as he speaks his last words. To her. For her. “And seek atonement.”

He tears his gaze away, and she watches as he turns, his steps sure and steady as he walks toward the tear in the sky.

They are running out of time.

It is then she makes her decision, though it was no decision at all. She knew—she has always known—what she would do given this choice. 

“But you do not have to go alone.”

He had stopped before she spoke, perhaps hearing the fall of her steps, perhaps in the hope of one final goodbye. He turns as she finishes her declaration, his lips parted in surprise, but he clasps her hands as she stretches them towards him. His grip trembles ever so slightly. She notices the shine in his eyes as tears well, but he does not deny her. He only offers her a warning. It is the only thing he can offer her. 

“Where I am going is terrible.”

She smiles, shakes her shake. 

“It won’t be terrible if you’re with me. We make this journey together. Always.”

The words are reminiscent of the last verse of Dalish wedding vows. She wonders if he catches the significance, but by the way his grip tightens, she suspects he understands. 

She leans in, but then stops, waiting for him to close the last stretch of space between them. His lips meet hers without hesitation, cracked and bloody as they are. She doesn’t care. He tastes of iron and ash, and yet still of him. 

His mouth moves against hers, and she wishes to wrap her arms around him, to pull him close, but she fears causing him any further pain. She has seen the wounds on his face, saw him clutching at his right side as he ascended the steps before she crossed the threshold. She can only imagine the wounds hidden beneath his battered armor. She had glimpsed the state of his dread wolf as it tore the throat out of Elgar’nan’s archdemon. 

There will be time for such things later, after he has rested and healed. Time will never be something they are in want of now.

***

He savors her for as long as he dares, then presses his lips firmly against hers before pulling away. His mouth curves into a soft smile. Just for her. 

There is no force—divine or otherwise—that can part him from her now. Not unless she wishes it.

He holds her gaze for one more moment, the burn of tears still threatening to spill sting his eyes. But he blinks them away quickly, and glances back at Rook. 

“Thank you, Rook.”

Then his eyes fall back to her. He cannot get enough. 

He is not unaware that Rook had to have had a part to play in this once-thought impossible reunion. 

There will never be words or action enough to show his gratitude, especially to someone he has so gravely wronged. And yet, they still have orchestrated the return of his heart to him. A gift he knows he does not deserve, but he will endeavor to earn. 

He squeezes her hands once more—one flesh, one formed—and turns, walking towards the last remaining tear in the Veil. He crosses his hands before him to keep from reaching out, reaching back to hold her to him. She must make this choice freely. 

He doesn’t even dare look, afraid if he does, he will find no one and nothing. That these last few minutes have all been a dream conjured by his addled mind and his bone-deep exhaustion—for what else could it be but a dream? That, after all this time, after everything he’s done, she would seek him out once more. That she would forgive him. Love him still. Choose to be with him, despite where he must go. 

There is a moment where he fears she has changed her mind, or he was correct in his first assumption that she was never here at all. His chest tightens… and then releases as he feels her hand rest upon his shoulder. She is here. She is real. 

With the last ounce of strength he has, he wraps them in his magic and spirits them into the Fade, leaving her world behind. Perhaps for good. 

He took away her ability to choose once, many years ago, when she first asked to join him while standing in the Crossroads. It had torn him in two to deny her, but he knew then that he could not allow her to follow the path he had to tread. Could not allow it to twist her hope into despair, like his own purpose had been twisted long ago. 

For so long, his life has only been duty and destruction. He is unsure of how to be anything else.

When he finds himself once again in the prison of his own making, his knees give out from under him. The weight of the last few hours, few weeks, few years, dragging him to the hard unforgiving stone of his regrets. But this time, he is not alone. 

She kneels before him, carefully cradling his face in her palm, her skin so warm against his. “Vhenan,” she whispers as her thumb strokes lightly over his cheek, and it takes him a moment to realize he is crying, truly crying. The tears that had threatened to fall when he first took her hands in his have now been set free. He crumples into her lap, his forehead pressed the against her stomach as she gently strokes his head and down his back, offering words of comfort, her voice thick with her own tears. She has saved him. He has doomed her. 

The weight of that realization is enough to crush him to dust. He pulls back, eyes searching hers. His hands shake as he reaches up to hold her face. Perhaps there is still time…

“These are my burdens to bare,” he rasps. “I cannot ask you to carry them with me.” 

“You do not have to, vhenan.” She holds his hand to her cheek. “I chose this. Freely. Just as I chose you.”

She presses a kiss to the heel of his hand, the one still wet with his blood. “Being with you is no burden, Solas, not to me. It is a joy.”

Their foreheads meet, pressed together as they once again take each other’s hands.

She is here. She is real. He still cannot believe it.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

Then he says the words she had gifted him, a vow he will hold sacred for as long as they both shall live. 

“Vir shiral malasa. Bellanaris.”

[yowumi]

Hotshot surgeon Gojo x Medical Student Reader Ft. Hotshot Surgeon Suguru [ modern au ] TW. Pregnancy & Love Triangle

Shotgun Wedding Ch. 03 | Make Up

Summary. Satoru Gojo, The states #1 Neurosurgeon, known for his wealthy clan. He was known for his success, parties, and his willingness to fuck anybody and everybody in a 10 mile radius. Unfortunately, one unlucky night, you make the wise decision to do what any hard working young medical student would do when faced with a sexy doctor…you sleep with him in which changes your life forever.

.

.

.

Warnings. Accidental pregnancy, no protection (wrap it before you tap it), love triangle, roommates (they all live together), arranged marriage, satoru is a bit of a meanie, plot twists, angst, smut, you only end up with one.

A/N. this is my first time writing a fanfic, although i’ve always wanted to! i’m always open to take constructive criticism or any tips to make my writing better! I hope you guys enjoy and definitely lemme know if you have any suggestions, read well luv <3

keep up! // ch. 1 // ch. 2 // ch. 3 // ch. 4 (coming soon)

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

As the time has passed, things have been going smoothly at home. Satoru has been keeping his promises about controlling the drinking and his whore behavior and there was no drama in the house.

Although, after two months since the pregnancy, you’ve started to notice changes within your appearance as your belly is starting to show. Nobara claims you’ve got the ‘pregnancy glow’ even though, you would disagree as you haven’t fully gotten used to your new body.

[12:07pm] King Nobara: OMG!! we should totally go baby clothes shopping

Nobara’s texts appear in your shared groupchat with you, her and Yuji. Megumi was originally supposed to be in here as well but Nobara bullied him out after teasing him about his shared drunk kiss with Yuji.

[12:07pm] Yuji: can i come toooooo? it’s been so boring lately also it’s been a while since the gang has been together, i need to get fushiguro out the house, i’m afraid he will become emo!!

[12:08pm] King Nobara: he’s already emo :((

You roll your eyes at their teasing, a small smile leaving your lips as you feel comforted talking to them again. Hanging out with all of them again would be good for you, after all it’s been a while since you’ve talked to Megumi who still has refused to talk to you after you’ve moved out.

[12:10pm] You: Yeah, sounds good. How’s 2 sound?

[12:12pm] King Nobara: good for me, you in itadori?

[12:12pm] Yuji: yes Ma’am!!

You set your phone down as you think out your day before getting your thoughts interrupted by the sound of your maid coming in the room in a rush ready to clean up, she apologizes as she thought you would be up by now.

Taking notice of her stressed out behavior as she pants, you ask, “is everything alright? what’s the matter?”

“Well today is a big day, you know” She says offering you a kind smile at your concern for her.

“How so? it’s saturday” You ask, furrowing your eye brows trying to think if you’ve missed a holiday.

“You weren’t informed?! Oh my!! The Gojo’s will be arriving for dinner today so you two can break the news of your pregnancy, I apologize, I assumed Mr. Gojo had made you aware.”

“Oh I see” You nod in understanding as you get up from your place on the bed, matching your way towards the door.

Loud slippers make its way through the hall, passing by the living room in which Suguru sat on the couch sipping his coffee as he flicked through channels. As if he reads your anger, he mutters “uh oh” as he looks towards the situation before him amused as you violently knock on Satoru’s door.

You can hear what sounds like Satoru getting up from his bed followed by a muffled groan as if he is stretching before being approached by a shirtless Satoru in front of you, yawning without shame which seems to set you off.

He looks down and quickly reads your angry expression before a sly smirk appears on his lips, “ah and good morning to you too, baby mama”

“You shouldn’t call her that Satoru, it makes it sound like you knocked her up after a one night stand or something” He sarcastically teases followed up by Satoru grinning in front of you.

“My apologies, Now what do i owe the pleasure of being in the presence of my strong, beautiful, glorious, soon to be mother of my child” he says dramatically.

If you were cartoon characters, you’re sure smoke would be coming out your ears by now.

“Why am i now getting informed that we will be breaking the news to your parents tonight?” You cross your arms annoyed by how calm he is by all this.

“Relax, i just didn’t want to stress you out, not good for the baby.” He says nonchalantly making your blood boil. Not wanting to stress you out? Since when did he care about that. As if his whole existence didn’t stress you out.

“Well now i’m stressed out even more, i can’t even prepare and i have to rush to see if i can get a gift or something!”

“No need, we will have a little dinner at the house and that’s it, no need for gifts, they aren’t that formal” He brushes you off with a scratch to his head.

You stomp away in anger, not feeling the need to further speak with him as you might just strangle him right there.

“Those slippers are super cute on you by the way!” He shouts out playfully before you turn around to throw one at him before he retreats to his room.

You look towards Suguru who is encouraging Satoru to run and retreat before you aim the other slipper towards him causing Suguru to throw his hands up in defeat, “I surrender!”

You let out a small huff as you walk away.

“You’re breakfast is in the microwave!” he shouts out softly laughing as you walk away giving him a thumbs up of acknowledgement.

getting dressed to meet up with your friends ended up more stressful than you intended, feeling a weight in your chest knowing Megumi would be there.

I mean you always knew that he wasn’t the biggest fan of gojo but not talking to you because of it just seemed like a little much to you. you didn’t understand why he cared so much about you and gojo, i mean it was always playful banter, right? Megumi didn’t seriously hate gojo, could he.

either way you knew you would have to find a way to repair the friendship between you and megumi, you valued it a lot considering having growing up with him.

Gojo was always like an older brother figure to Megumi, I think apart of Satoru wanted to relieve the pain of Megumi losing his parents, budging his way into a brotherly role in his life.

When you were kids you would remember the car rides as Satoru would drop you both off at highschool as Satoru would make his way to college.

the nights you spent alone with megumi where you felt safe and loved at a time where you felt alone. In a way it felt like you found a familiar comfort in being with him. growing up with him felt so natural that it made you anxious at the thought of losing him over someone as stupid as Gojo.

Megumi felt like family, the family you never got to have.

after working up the courage to walk out your room, clutching your bag filled with junk and medications gojo prescribed you on.

“where are you heading?” a voice comes out from behind you, almost startling compared to the silence you were surrounded in moments ago.

you turn around to see gojo eying the sundress you’re wearing, helping you cover up the small baby bump that was barely beginning to form.

“I was going to meet up at the mall with some friends”

he nods, “hm okay, i assume megumi will be there as well?” he asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

“mhm” you hum. what was with the sudden interest in Megumi?

“do you mind if i come with? i’ve got some things i need to get from there before my parents come, and it would be nice to see megs ya know” he says, surprising abandoning his playful tone he usually has at the mention of megumi, instead now showing some guilt on his face.

you think for a moment, thinking if bringing Gojo was really the best idea. would megumi really be okay with that? he’s been so silent that it’s hard to read how he will react.

after moments of thinking, you finally nod. giving your approval as a soft smile appears on Satoru’s lips as you both head out the door.

“We’ll be back, Suguru!” Satoru shouts before closing the door.

The car way there was silent once again, you couldn’t quite read the mood between the both of you. Satoru was a big personality in front of people, yet with you, most times he would just stay silent, making you wonder what’s happening in his head. You would try not to overthink it too much.

arriving at the mall you see Nobara and Yuji sitting on the curb frantically waving as you get out the car like fangirls. while Megumi stands quietly by the light pole next to them, a blank expression on his face.

Gojo takes a few seconds before walking out of the car, letting you’re friends greet you with excitement before quietly walking out, closing the door. when he turns Nobara gives you a mouth open look of dramatic surprise as she nods her head in ‘hottie approval’.

You roll your eyes as you hug her tightly and seeing Yuji greet Gojo, “Hey doc! what are you doing here!” he goes in to give him a handshake as Gojo laughs returning a friendly greeting towards Yuji and Nobara.

You look to see megumi who is already facing you, turning away once you make eye contact, you look down feeling a guilt feeling in your stomach, you hated when he was upset with you. but you weren’t going to give up, you would make it your mission to make sure you can make up with Megumi today.

“There’s my little munchkin, hey megs! it’s been a hot minute since you’ve visited, holidays are coming up, come by sometime!” he says pulling Megumi forcefully into a hug as Megumi makes a salty face looking away, “Okay.”

You wave and walk towards him, “Hi” you say giving him a soft smile, Megumi turns his gaze towards you, he wanted to be upset but he knew you were pregnant and he couldn’t help how innocent you looked trying to make an effort to speak to him, “hey” he says back, his eyes softening for a moment as he looks down at your sundress hanging loosely around your body, noticing the small baby bump.

You guys walk around the mall, Gojo and Yuji disappearing off as they talk each others ears off as they wondered off to god knows where in the mall, leaving you, Nobara and Megumi left.

Nobara babbled about the third year medical students and something about how there’s a rumor of third year student Inumaki getting to work along side Nanami Kento as a gynecologist. Meanwhile Megumi stays silent trailing behind you both as he watched you eying the baby clothes.

as she speaks about the subject a voice pops out behind all of you, “Hey first years, what are you guys doing here? doing some last minute shopping?” Maki wraps an arm around Nobara’s shoulder watching Nobara’s eyes light up.

“Yeah, we’re doing some last minute christmas shopping since Yuji decided he would invite his asshole of an uncle over for christmas, we’re totally low on supplies. Oh by the way you guys are still coming right?” Nobara says looking towards you, Maki, Yuta, and Inumaki. They all nod as you stay silent, not knowing where you’re going for thanksgiving, did Satoru even want you there? you would assume he would have plans along with Geto.

“Uh Im not sure actually”

“Aw why nottttt! Gojo and Geto are coming! so is Shoko and Nanami!” She says pulling your arm like a child wanting their mom’s approval.

“They are?” you ask, surprised at the fact.

“Yeah! it’s at Megumi’s apartment so everyone’s meeting up there! you have to come, i won’t accept no!”

you finally nod giving your approval leaving Nobara satisfied.

The next hour at some point Nobara heads off with Maki and the others leaving Megumi alone with you as you walked around stores. A silence filled the void between you two before Megumi surprisingly broke the silence pulling you into a store, “come here”

you’re confused but you follow him into the store in which you soon realizes sells baby clothes and supplies.

you look and run your fingers through the small baby clothes along the racks, imagining ones you would like your baby to wear as he watches you fiddle with the small buttons along the baby coats.

He watches you carefully and silently as you do so, after several minutes finally breaking the silence.

“is it his?” he asks and you turn towards him startled by the question.

you try to play it off as confusion, “w-what?”

“Satoru, it’s his isn’t it. He dropped you off that night of the event, your carrying his child aren’t you?” he keeps his calm demeanor.

you look down, not wanting to answer the question. for moments it’s quiet before he lifts a hand on your shoulder, “it’s okay.”

you look up at him to see his face is filled with an expression you weren’t familiar with on his face, a look you hadn’t seen on him in a long time. A soft smile appears on his face.

You admire the sight, taking advantage of it while it lasts, burning the imagine in your mind.

“y-you aren’t mad…?” you ask turning your head slightly.

he shakes his head, “no. i know you’re smart enough to take care of yourself, I trust that you will.”

he says before taking the palm of his hand and putting it gently on your waist slightly caressing the bump on your stomach. “but if anything doesn’t work out, you can always come back home.”

you smile, in the moment it made you feel nostalgic, reminding you of the comfort you once felt in Megumi’s presence as kid. You’re home.

before leaving the store, Megumi purchased small white mittens and a small black snow hat, for the baby. He holds the bag as he walks with you out of the store finally finding Gojo standing alone at the food court making small talk with an old woman.

“Hey, where did everyone go? don’t tell me they left the old man to fend for himself” you tease as you walk towards him, a grin appearing on his lips.

“don’t tell me i’m getting wrinkles already! but yeah they went and found a bar somewhere across the street but i had to lead by example, you know, as their mentor and all” he brushes his shoulder dramatically finally realizing megumi was beside you. “Oh you’re still here! Oh Megumi you should come home with us, my family is coming in just a few hours, they would love to see you!” he says cheerfully,

Megumi shrugs, “Yeah whatever” He says nonchalantly looking at your eyes for a response,

“sounds like a plan”

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

.

.

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A/N. This chapter is a little short but only because the family dinner with Satoru’s parents is most likely going to be long considering everything i have planned to happen for it. There’s going to be some flashbacks and drama next chapter for sure so I figured this chapter would be more of a calmer setting where reader and Megumi make up and we get some fun scenes.

let me know if you guys would like to be added to the tag list for ‘Shotgun Wedding’ updates!

tags: @jeannieboys @maskedpacific @muimuiwisteria @baileebear

[cyanide-latte]

Hi, I hope you don't mind if I "yes, and-" you, Rin. Your points are great and I want to expand on them!

OP has shown a fundamental misunderstanding, both of the character of the Huntsman and Rook, the latter of which seems to be informed by the former. Since the Huntsman was largely the one brought up here, we'll start with him.

While there are certainly some versions of the fairy tale that paint the Huntsman in a negative light, those are few and far between, and they're also NOT the version that the Disney film pulls from. (Bad faith retellings that make the Huntsman a villain are far more common these days, and even those show a misunderstanding or a desire to intentionally misconstrue the Huntsman's role.) Calling him a villain opens up a dialogue to try to understand who he is and why.

Because above all else, the Huntsman is the linchpin on which the entire fairy tale depends.

Think about it. OP states the Huntsman is disloyal. My question is "to whom?"

Firstly, we can see in the original film that he's probably somewhere in his 40s, based on his features. Secondly, he's called the Queen's huntsman, but based on his age and his efficiency, there is a heavy implication he was the royal huntsman before the king remarried to Grimhilde. Which, if we take that to be the case (and I do) this means he was the king's man and therefore also the princess's by extension before the king passed away and his holdings and everything passed to his new queen. So while Queen Grimhilde is technically the Huntsman's sovereign when she orders him to kill Snow White, he has likely watched Snow grow up and holds a lot of loyalty to the late king. There is also loyalty to Snow there that also plays into his decision to disobey Grimhilde's order, especially since in his introduction scene, he immediately tries to protest when Grimhilde tells him to kill her.

Furthermore, what do we see the Huntsman do when he fails to kill her? He falls to his knees and weeps, begging for Snow White's forgiveness. He addresses her as "Your Highness" (again, pointing to conflicting loyalties present,) and it's clear he sees her as a child. He calls her "the little princess" when he tries to object to the order initially, and when he speaks to Snow, he also says, "run, child!" with the urgency and inflection you would use for a child you do care about and are afraid for the safety of.

If this is disloyal, it's only because his loyalties are in conflict. And as for him sparing her because "she's beautiful", that's not the case. He spares her because she is a child, and furthermore, the princess he also serves and has probably watched grow. He doesn't even just spare her, he warns her about the Queen. Watch the scene again and you'll see what I mean.

Additionally, there's another point here I want to address.

The Huntsman is referred to by the title of his job. He is the royal huntsman. Hunting animals is his job. It's in a similar line of work to say, the local or royal butchers. The huntsman's job involves animal death. Additionally, what does he kill?

A pig.

And this is clever. Why?

First of all, killing a pig takes time. They are damn smart and die hard. So if it takes the Huntsman longer to do the job, so what? The Queen might assume either Snow gave him a little bit of trouble trying to run away or fend him off, and maybe the Huntsman might have buried her body to hide the evidence. She won't question the delay extensively, and it buys Snow White time to run farther away.

Secondly, the heart of a pig is just similar enough in appearance to a human heart that at a glance, Grimhilde wouldn't be able to tell a difference, especially not if she hasn't seen enough human hearts and pigs' hearts to be able to recognize that she was deceived. The Huntsman KNOWS that it would pass visual inspection, probably because he has had to clean enough animals to know what looks similar to art of human hearts, and again, he likely works in very close relation to the royal butchers and cooks. He knows Grimhilde won't know the difference, and she doesn't. The only reason she finds out is because the entity in the Magic Mirror tells her it's a pig's heart.

Third, why? Why would the Huntsman choose this course of action? While there is the truth that he has a set of unspecified-but-grave consequences if he fails, this allows him to spare Snow White and also to appease Queen Grimhilde. If his plan works, his princess is spared from harm and his queen is made happy and allowed to believe a lie that will hopefully prevent her from harming anyone else.

And again, the entire story hinges on him taking this course of action.

If the Huntsman hadn't made the choice he did, Snow White would have died, and we would be having a conversation about how he's an evil, child-murdering monster who blindly follows the orders of an unhinged woman without question.

ALSO ALSO! While this obviously wasn't what happened in the movie, earlier drafts were going to have the Queen not die by falling. She was going to live to see the Prince revive Snow White, and head back to her castle to plan the next attempt to kill Snow, only to find the Huntsman destroying her lair and Magic Mirror to make sure she couldn't try to kill again, and the Queen was going to die from shock. This was scrapped because it was believed to be too horrific for audiences, but it would have cemented even more about the Huntsman's character and morality.

The character of the Huntsman has seen a lot of different interpretations over the years since Disney's 1937 film, and it almost goes without saying that the animated Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs has had a lot of impact on the characterizations and understandings of its characters since, ESPECIALLY the huntsman.

Then we come to Twisted Wonderland, a game that at its core, holds so much love and respect and understanding of the Disney films it pulls from as source material that it honestly puts almost everything else like it to total and utter shame.

Now, the English localization of TWST has absolutely done Book 5 and the Pomefiore boys dirty.

But we also see that a lot of Rook's character has survived the localization somewhat more intact. Though evasive and guarded when it comes to himself, Rook is very open about his views of appreciating beauty in every form it takes, as well as appreciating and honoring everything behind that beauty that goes into making it shine on its own merit. This is crucial to his character as it separates him from the Huntsman. Another way in which he differs is that he does call out Vil on multiple occasions. He talks back to and challenges Vil (in his own uniquely "Rook" manner) the way a friend will call out a friend on their behavior when it is harmful, crosses a line, or is just completely out of turn. He does this without fear of repercussions, because he knows Vil needs to hear it, and that also differentiates Rook from the Huntsman. He is very much his own character and a very vibrant one at that, even as many aspects of him still pay homage to the Huntsman he's twisted from.

Finally, we come to his interference to spare Neige from drinking the cursed apple juice. This has nothing to do with Rook being "disloyal" to Vil. It has nothing to do with him "having a wandering eye" or being more attracted to Neige as a star/idol. He's doing the only thing he can to spare someone he admires from coming to harm, BUT ALSO, (AND, I WOULD ARGUE, MORE IMPORTANTLY) HE'S TRYING TO STOP HIS FRIEND FROM MAKING A TERRIBLE MISTAKE THAT WILL ALSO HARM VIL'S PSYCHE.

Yes, he cares about Neige. But he also cares so much about Vil as his friend and KNOWS, because he's seen how much Vil has been torn up and working so hard and feeling like it was all for naught, that if the plan of the cursed apple juice worked? It would have also harmed Vil.

Clearly all three of the light magic-user boys are at NRC for various important reasons. I'm not denying that.

But saying the reason for that is because you want to point at the source material and declare the characters they're twisted from villains? No. That is a fundamental misread and misunderstanding of the original films and their characters. You have misunderstood the Huntsman and that also informs that you have misread Rook in some way. That is not who either character is.

Twisted Wonderland: Why the Hunter from Snow White is a Villain

Hey everyone! As you all read in my last post, I am planning on remaking my series for why the Light Magic Trio are villains. This is part 2 with Rook Hunt.

Many TWST fans believe that the Hunter from Snow White is a hero because of his positive association with the main protagonist. He is known for having spared her life when the Evil Queen ordered him to kill her. However, just because he did good things for the main protagonist doesn't mean he's a hero.

The first reason why the Hunter is a villain is because he is a disloyal person whose loyalty falters over small things. The story of Snow White is about a beautiful young woman who is wanted dead by an evil queen who is envious of her beauty. The first hit the Evil Queen makes is ordering the Hunter to go and kill her, but he refuses and even resigns his position simply because he is hesitant to kill someone so beautiful. This means that the Hunter basically betrayed his original mistress over something shallow.

The second reason why the Hunter is a villain is because he resolves issues using violence. In order to avoid the Evil Queen's wrath when he fails to kill Snow White, he kills a pig instead. In other words, the Hunter kills other innocent living beings to avoid punishment.

In total, the Hunter is a villain because he is a disloyal coward with a wandering eye and runs from his mistakes using animal abuse.

[tysonfurybattlepass]

lancer hot take GO

1. CRIMINALLY underrated as a key player in the narrative. so often in fan content, he’s relegated to comic relief when in reality his character arc is the fucking CO-FOCAL POINT of ch1 (alongside susie’s)

but where susie learns that opposition isn’t always the answer, and it can lead to her hurting people she loves, lancer learns that the authority figure in his life isn’t omnipotent and perfect and he can stand up for what he knows is just. he can question the adult in his life he can BE HIS OWN PERSON and he doesn’t have to feel like he’s not good enough. fuck. not personal or anything prommy (lying)

2. i think he should be allowed to KILL. queen will livestream it. shit would be funny as fuck

[ctrl-lupin]

Yes, I would be very interested hearing your head canon (@tim-ribbert-56) (in response to this post)

I have decided for my personal entertainment that Clarisse de Cagliostro is related to Lupin III, and here's why.

-pulls out Arsène Lupin's Wikipedia page-

In the novel La Comtesse de Cagliostro, a young Arsène Lupin (at the time going by the name Raoul d'Andrésy) was courting Clarisse d'Etigues, a young lady of a well-to-do family, and trying to win her hand, despite her father's disapproval.

Throughout the course of the novel, Lupin meets and falls in love with Joséphine Balsamo, aka the Countess of Cagliostro, and abandons Clarisse in favour of her. To clarify, Joséphine is not actually countess of anything, she is (or claims to be) a descendant of Giuseppe Balsamo aka the Count of Cagliostro (who was also count of jack shit), a famous conman from the 18th century.

Shenanigans ensue, which I will not go into in details on, but oh my god I am insane about Raoul and Joséphine, I want to dissect them and study them under a microscope. It turns out Joséphine aka Cagliostro is evil as fuck, Raoul/Lupin realizes that and goes back to Clarisse (whom he had previously abandoned like an old sock, I fucking hate this guy), marries her, and a few years later has her kid.

Unfortunately Clarisse dies in childbirth, and Joséphine, who was still around and very very pissed at Lupin (and jealous as hell of Clarisse whom, may I mention, had never personally antagonized her in any way whatsoever, Joséphine is just fucking bonkers). Joséphine also kidnaps Lupin and Clarisse's son, Jean, and raises him as her own son. (I have not yet read the following novel The revenge of Cagliostro so I don't really know what Jean's deal is, I just know he's an antagonist).

The following is my headcanon, based on these events. In the universe of Lupin III, Joséphine Balsamo was actually countess of the small kingdom of Cagliostro (maybe Giuseppe was count, maybe he conned his way into becoming count, maybe he bought the land and built a fake kingdom with a fake history, who knows).

After the events of The revenge of Cagliostro, Jean settles down in the country of Cagliostro, gets married, has a child, and that child will later have a daughter of their own, who they name Clarisse, after their late grandmother. Clarisse de Cagliostro, of Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro fame, would thus be the great-grand-daughter of Arsène Lupin, making her Lupin III's cousin/niece/whatever you call this specific degree of separation.

I am choosing to make Clarisse de Cagliostro a great-granddaughter of Arsène Lupin, rather than a granddaughter, because Arsène Lupin was very young when the events I described unfolded: he is 20 years old when he meets Clarisse d'Etigues and the whole Cagliostro debacle happens, and 25 by the time Jean is born. I'm assuming he had Lupin II much later in his life. So Jean and Lupin II (half-brothers) would have a significant difference in age, and so Jean's hypothetical child (grandchild of Arsène Lupin, so of the same generation of Lupin III) would be much older than Lupin III. Clarisse de Cagliostro is younger than him, maybe around the same age if you stretch it, so she's have to be a great-grandchild.

Now I need to read The revenge of Cagliostro and study Arsène Lupin's wikipedia page in more detail to determine when exactly Lupin II was born and who his mother was. And also where Albert's family branched out, because the fact that he's called D'Andrésy should theoretically place him as a descendant of Arsène Lupin's mother but not of Arsène Lupin himself; but Jean was also going by that last name, so who fucking knows.

No I am not insane I promise, I am just a gigantic nerd.

[wonder-worker]

A.J Pollard’s biography on Edward IV was so cringe lol (generic; minor but frustrating inaccuracies; intensely judgmental at times and oddly dismissive at others while never considering the broader context; entirely diminished and trivialized Elizabeth Woodville as both queen and wife of his main subject in the name of "defending" her; created a false dichotomy between Edward and Henry VII’s styles of ruling and lauded the latter at the former’s expense even though Henry literally followed Edward’s example for the very things Pollard was criticizing Edward for; had a downright nonsensical and thoroughly misleading conclusion about Edward’s legacy & Richard’s usurpation that was based entirely on hindsight, Pollard's own assumptions, and the complete downplaying Richard’s agency and actions to emphasize what Pollard wrongly and misleadingly claimed were Edward's so-called 'failings', etc, etc)

I wanted to buy his book on Henry V but after reading this shitshow and the synopsis of that book, im guessing it's going to be 10x worse, so...no thanks

[engagemythrusters]

So the reason I personally think Tech is appearing to be doing “fine” about the changes around him (loss of Crosshair and Echo, Havoc Marauder being stolen) is because he is absolutely not.

This guy is deeply autistic coded, to the point where it’s basically canon (the voice actor has mentioned he perceives Tech to be on the spectrum). And as most of us know, autistic people… we don’t do so well with change. We’re really, really bad with it. We like routines so much!

But wait—you may say—why does Tech act like he’s okay with change? Simple, really: you can’t form routines in a galactic war.

Obviously, there’s routines he could keep. Things like… like the order he ate his lunch, the way he brushed his teeth, how he preparde for battle, etc. That’s portable, for the most part. But he’s not in the same place every day. He’s not doing the same thing every day. He’s not even with the same people every day! Everything changes so constantly!

Not to mention, there’s so much grooming (not THAT type) that the clones go through. They grow up specifically for one thing and one thing only: war. Tech’s case was special, obviously, but that likely guaranteed even more grooming. He was special, like his brothers. I bet they had more hands-on training than most—and likely watched just as closely. So can you imagine what would have happened, had the Kaminoans watched him lose his cool over changes? They couldn’t have let that fly. That’s not going to work on the battlefield. If he can’t adapt, he’s dead.

So. Tech needs to adapt. Tech needs to not break with changes. He needs to cope.

How do you cope with something when you can’t cope? Stuff it deep down. Ignore it. Replace the feelings with something else (ie: working out, drinking, bingeing, etc.) and refuse to acknowledge anything else.

Tech can’t keep up with changes. Tech can’t deal with them. So… he doesn’t deal with them. At all. He doesn’t let himself acknowledge the way he would have used to. He bottles them, he ignores them, whatever you want to call it.

(So no fuckin wonder he kept lashing out at Wrecker. How much can a person keep inside before the dam cracks and something leaks through?!)

[jaymesyourplaything]

hi i'm jay; i mod jim moriarty @criminalisticonsultant. those who know me, keep my name private please.

i've been asked to speak of my side since i have been indirectly involved for awhile. i need to apologize; i have recently injured my hand and i will be typing one handed. i can't guarantee when i will post, or how often i may respond if anyone truly cares enough to keep asking questions. (actually most of it is written, i have been sitting on this for awhile. )

if you're here for slander or an angry opinion against either of my friends, @consult-sherlockholmes (sherlock for the character, ver for the mod @veritassempervincit ) or @consultjohnwatson (john, not nicknamed yet, but mod account @sherlockbbc-rp ) then this is not the place.

i am currently proof reading my most recent draft, - correction. (changed my mind ehe )

[sleepy-bear-tm]

Dimitri in Three Hopes watching Edelgard and Claude radically change their countries in Fodlan while his hands are tied with having to protect the church

[lady-caden]

Feel extremely disheartened today. Still cannot believe this is happening