#i think he would eventually but come on. give him more time than that

[cathnospam]

(When Bakugo speaks and it’s italics it means he’s speaking in English and when you speak in italics it means you’re speaking Japanese.)

Everybody keeps wanting more of Bakugo and his Foreign GF with their language barrier so here:

When Bakugo first met you all those years ago it didn’t click immediately you couldn’t speak Japanese, all you did was understand a few phrases.

You both were doing Hero work in America and you never really spoke, just giving everybody smiles, waves, and nods, and so he thought you were mute for a moment.

“Do you speak or something? Why don’t you talk?”

When you gave him a confused look he kept yelling until you covered his mouth and typed: “I barely speak Japanese. Sorry.”

Being so naive if you knew him you wouldn’t have dared put your hand to his mouth, but surprisingly enough he didn’t mind it, he did grab your wrist after though. Which is why he took your phone and stored his number in there stating if you want to speak to him (Because of course you would he’s Bakugo the future #5 hero in Japan) then text him.

Weird. Very weird guy.

Eventually he started to approach you more, forgetting you can’t speak his language so he either points or texts you.

He was only in the States for a few more days, but he managed to make some progress getting to know you even with the difficulties behind it.

He did however managed to learn a couple new words for you.

“Hungry.”

“What?”

He smacks his face and points across the street to a restaurant, “Food.”

“Oh!” You giggle at his accent, “Yes we can go to the restaurant.”

“Rest…taurant…tcht…..stupid.”

Bakugo became a decent learner, English was hard as hell to work on so most of it was broken, but when he got back to Japan you both had study lessons together through FaceTime and the few times a year when you visit.

He taught you Japanese and you taught him English.

Years later when you finally came to visit is when he decided to ask you out.

“Girlfriend….my girlfriend….or date —- I sound so fucking stupid trying to ask you out—whatever.”

“Are you …asking me out?”

The blondie was impressed by how fast you learned, seeing that you still struggled with verbs. Which he definitely clowned you for, but you didn’t have a clue about it.

He scoffs and nods reluctantly , somewhat jealous you don’t have too many complications with Japanese as much as he thought anymore.

“Date….later.”

You felt your cheeks get warm, it’s not like you didn’t expect it, considering how much touchier he’s gotten towards you since you got there and even during texting he throws in a few flirts and compliments, he wasn’t a bad guy what so ever so often course you say yes.

“How about 7pm tonight after class?”

“That’s my job to say the time!”

“Yeaaaahhh I still don’t understand what you said, but Immma assume from context you’re upset.”

He just blinks at you with a frustrated look, and his mouth in a straight line, only hearing the words, “Upset” and “What you said” being translated in his brain, when you speak english you sound like a sim.

His words by the way.

The thing about you not understanding Japanese completely is that there were so many times through out the date he would compliment you and say some of the most sweetest things that he knew you wouldn’t understand.

“You look stunning in that dress.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Your smile is gorgeous.”

“All I understood was smile. You want me to smile more?”

“No!”

He managed to get away with a lot. And so did you.

The first date you both had went more than perfect, it was cute because there was still moments where you and him managed to practice different words to each other. He spoke in broken English to show you how to eat Pho and you spoke Japanese to order your own food.

He was a bit proud to say the least.

When the date had to come to its sad close he walked you back to your hotel, you wanted to invite him back, seeing as you clearly felt a connection from him not just as a friend, but maybe more however you didn’t want him to think you were easy.

Not that he would’ve thought so anyways he was hoping you would invite him back.

Bakugo looked at you expectantly when you unlocked your door, almost as if he was waiting to hear something he probably wouldn’t even comprehend. Instead though you give him something better first when you place your lips on his, “That is what you call a kiss.”

“Kiss.” He repeats, accent still thick and raspy, his hand rubbing your waist, your body being ever pled by his natural warmth, “Kiss…me…more.”

Giggling you do so, which did indeed lead to you inviting him back to your room for learning more about these kisses he loves so damn much now.

[2698rr]

saddle up

jason todd x fem reader | smut | cowboy au | 3.7k words

notes; gets a little lazy at the end cause i got sick of having it sit in my notes app, was supposed to be a small Drabble but.. yeah, and check out my other work! (if u want to)

—

he had been trying to lay low, trying to find a way to stay near the ever growing and bustling city without making a new name for himself.

the bounty he had obtained wasn’t much to dwell about. but he wasn’t too keen to get back to his operations until it was cleared.

another factor, he needed a back-up place, somewhere to hide when things were too risky, or if someone where to go knocking asking about ‘red mask’

and well, he hadn’t meant to find it, he had just been strolling through the growing city. his eyes had flickered around noting all the law that hung in every crevice.

and then, he saw it. a flyer, for some ranch not that far from here. yes, it was still a way ways out but it was close enough to keep him keen.

he had rested his hands into his belt, fingers wrapping around the worn leather as he leaned forward, lips pulling into a puff as his eyes lazily skimmed every word.

some ranch needs extra help, the pay ain’t too horrible, they offer living and if you got no experience they’ll train you. His lips curl into a smirk and he rips it off the lamppost.

after all, he didn’t need any competition, and everyone in this city needed a new dollar here and there. his boots smack against the concrete as he continued his walk, it was getting far too dark to appear at their ranch now.

but next morning, he’d be determined.

even if it wasn’t just some handy thing for cash or even a place to lie down until his bounty washes over, it was still a damn good deal.

—

when morning came he was already on his horse, in-fact he’s been on his horse since before the sun began rising. the misty air could be smelt, a morning that was damp in the early hours only to become gruelling heat later on.

birds chipped loudly, the grass remained sticky and wet, glossed over with it’s own residue of water and ice. the sun was the only comfort of some warmth, it lacked for now but with the somewhat cold morning he’d woken to, it was pleasant.

the ranch wasn’t too far, about a fifteen minute ride. however, he decided he wanted to find a way to get there without using the main paths.

after all if he was ever in a sticky situation, the main paths would be a fools mistake. and Jason was taught to never be a fool.

maybe he hadn’t been taught how to be a gunslinger, an outlaw. but people only ever listen to outlaws, the law ain’t doing much except teaching people of the new ways.

and a lot of people, especially the older folk, they don’t like the new ways. it was all just a big mess.

when he finally saw the wooden fences appear he gave a hum, it seemed generations old, maybe made when people first settled here or what not.

the wood wasn’t old, but it sure wasn’t new. he could hear cow’s and some sheep, maybe even some chickens. the same few you’d see on any ranch, out the corner of his eye he noted some horses.

when his horse trotted all the way to the entrance of the ranch he could see some beautiful swivels, an old faded green. it marked the name of the ranch and he gave a nod to himself.

he continued on, eventually pulling up and giving his horse a few pats, maybe some self confidence to himself more than anything.

Jason was never taught how to apply for a job, never taught nothing except how to fend or fight, and as his boots crackled at every step on the porch, he was very aware of those facts.

he rang the bell a few times, trying to position his body to come off relaxed yet not lazy, however with his muscle and height it just became rather awkward.

when the door opened his breath stuttered, he had not once thought about a woman appearing. which spiralled his mind for thinking so lowly.

but here she stood, her fingers tapping against the door as she offered a polite smile, hair decorated into a beautiful up-do that compliments every feature on her face.

her mouth parting to speak only for Jason to hold out his hand and stutter his own words out. “I saw your flyer, need help on the ranch or something like that..”

a chuckle left her, as her hand dropped from the door and she moved to make room for him to step in, as he did he was aware of how homely the place was.

every light was warmly tinted, candles flicked despite night not yet creeping. a dog could be heard yelping from somewhere. there were portraits, paintings, some carpet here and there—although looking a little old.

“Finally” she spoke up, a laugh leaving afterwards. moving to step infront of him and redirect him to wherever she had in mind, Jason was still marvelling at how peaceful the house was.

her heels tapped against the floor, the corset hung around her body and blended so carefully into her dress. “We’d put it up a while ago, but.. we’re growing quite fearful it might not work” she hushed out, only to give a laugh afterwards.

she sat at a table, putting her hand out to motion for him to join.

only for them to get into the interview. the entire time Jason would direct his attention momentarily to something else, weather that be the softness of her palms as she waved them around.

or possibly, it would be the animals chirping from one part of the ranch to the other. eventually, Jason had left with a job, a stomach full of food and a new home to stay at.

weeks would further pass, getting to know his other ranch hands. laying low so perfectly he hadn’t heard nothing about himself even when he stopped into town.

only problem that had raised since it all was, well, your father. he was a nice man, always helping everybody despite the fact age was quickly getting to him.

he’d help with patching up a fence as his words trailed on to talk about your late mother.

but we’ll, the only problem was. if any man were to direct his attention to you for longer than a second, or to drawl a conversation out longer than needed, he made sure to let the men know he wouldn’t think twice about shooting them.

despite those warnings, Jason had taken to watching you. only sometimes, only ever on your morning walks. your eyes were still a little hazy with sleep, your dress fresh and new as it would trail over the path you’d made for yourself.

you’d walk the entire fence line, taking note of some fixes here and there that would be needed, letting the men know to keep an eye or to fix it if it was too bad.

and jason revelled for these moments, keeping an eye at all times to watch. you held a sense of grace, a sense of beauty he hadn’t been gifted.

he dosent truly belive you’d find him as much of a suitor as he does you, he’s too burly. he has muscles that makes many fear, his hands are only good for hurt—never to cradle nor care.

but those early mornings, where the soft wind is only ever slightly present as it whispers through your hair, as your fingers sometimes cradle a cup of some coffee, the smoke wafting over you face as some warming comfort.

you’ll wave a hand to the small group of men, every single one of them saying their own greetings. and once that’s done you retreat back to the house, doing whatever you do in the days.

you’d only had a handful of conversations with jason, the first one being the interview, the other time being when you had a worry about a horse and wanted him to take a look and the most recent being if he could fill up the feed for the sheep.

but oh he graciously laps it up, the soft sing of you voice, the way the light frames your figure like an angel. he hadn’t realised he’d been finding an attraction for you until too late.

maybe it was due to the fact he was often on the ranch now, maybe it was due to the fact he’d never been graced with a woman so delicate. or maybe, you just had that way to soften him.

—

maybe those thoughts, those moments where he watches you— admittedly not very secretly— had sunk deeper than he thought, because for the last few nights now he can’t go to sleep without thoughts of you.

and maybe some nights, those thoughts drift. not too anything scandalous, he dosent want to disrespect you like that.

but he does wonder how a peck to your neck would cause you to react, how a drifting hand over your lower back would make you shiver, would you cast him a look or not?

he refuses to let his thoughts tempt anything other than that.

—

autumn was dwindling to an end and it wouldn’t be long til winter took its place.

the entire farm was being prepped for the lack of materials it’d be able to sell, pounds of food was brought in and placed into the shed, enough for well past winter and into spring.

and you, you’d grown frantic.

having a lot on your plate mainly due to the fact your father was too old now to do much, aswell as too ill.

you’d been running around, trying to keep the house clean and inviting, making sure your father stayed well fed and rested and making sure every ranch hand had a meal.

you’d been nothing but doting as the ranch prepared for snowfall, and jason couldn’t help but admire it.

your hands swift and precise as you saddled up the horses, most men in the ranch were growing ill, sick with the weather as the reason.

due to the fact you were losing men quicker than bees could sting, you were becoming antsy.

most winters weren’t good, anyone could drop ill—or dead— at any moment, the animals were a further priority and you hardly made any money.

it had been easier when your mother was around, when your father wasn’t as old. but now the property’s of the farm were left to you, and whatever ranch hands hadn’t got ill.

that had only been jason and another guy called john.

the first day snow had fallen you were quite upset, mainly because snow wasn’t meant to come for atleast another week.

you’d had ushered Jason in. john hadn’t been able to make it that morning, his pa or whatever reason he’d given.

“Brush that snow off yer boots” you’d called out, the harshest he’d ever heard. he tried not to think about how delicately that tone had made him feel.

he’d done as told, brushing off any and every speck of snow or dust, making sure to keep your floors top notch and clean.

jason sees how hard you put into it after all, how hard you put into everything.

he’d slunk off his jacket, dusted his hands onto his pants —mainly due to how sweaty they were becoming— and hovered over you, waiting for an order.

you looked over at him, hands fidgeting with the ruffles of your skirt and the laces of your corset, before bringing a hand to your forehead.

“I’d send you home but.. you’d be shivering and that’s not quite fair to you” you said, a tired laugh leaving you as your lips raised with an uncertainty.

he waved a hand around as he leaned into the wooden banister, “It’s quite alright.” he said, his voice a drawl as he tried to stay quiet.

when he’d originally applied for the ranch hand job, few months back now, there had been places for him to stay if he needed housing, but a month ago you’d asked for his permission if you could change it to a storage place.

he’d agreed. (mainly to see your smile) and reassured that he had a place to stay, he didn’t.. kind of, he could set up camp most nights, he was used to that.

however, it truly wasn’t a problem. he had bared worse than a winter breeze or snow.

your heels tapped loudly against the ground as your teeth nibbled against your cheek, huffing to yourself in annoyance.

the ranch was somewhat ready for winter but not to its standards, it was too late to try and work on it now though, the snow was already causing its disruptions.

You turned your head his way and offered a smile, he tried not to focus on the fact he felt larger than usual around you.

he’s aware of his statue, of the fact he’s taller than most of the fact most shirts will dwarf just by the size of his forearms alone, but around you, well..

you made him feel double that size, and something about that caused a heat to settle in him, he couldn’t place if that was pleasant or not.

“Could you get some firewood, should be some under the porch” you said, voice a little quieter now as you raised a hopeful eyebrow his way.

in order to get under the porch he had to go back outside, maybe in your mind you’d decided that was a reason to say no, but it was hardly an inconvenience to jason.

you would say bark and he’d bark his throat raw, kneel and he’d bruise his knees til their bloody.

so maybe it had grown into more than he’d realised, or maybe he hadn’t been faced with you in such close quarters for a long enough time for him to realise what it was.

but now he was, and he couldn’t stop it.

He gave a nod, turning around and putting his boots back on and jacket aswell before he made his way under the porch.

by the time he got back you were sitting in the main room, staring at the dwindling fire. jason plopped the wood in, poking it and blowing at it to make sure the fire stayed. the warmth that carried was met with a gracious sigh from you.

he turned his gaze to you, eyes heavy as he took in your frame, only this time he wasn’t as quick to look away, there were no hay bales to move, horses to tend to or a fence to inspect.

instead he was met with your gaze, catching him admiring you. a part of him felt sheepish for that and he looked away, only for you to softly whisper his name.

“I think we need to talk..”

his body was in flames, every nerve possible suddenly awaken. you were going to fire him, maybe you were so disgusted at the fact some ranch hand had looked at you in a way that you were possibly even gonna shoot him.

he tapped his fingers against his thigh,

gave a weighted sigh, and followed you to the table.

the two of you remained quiet, your eyes on his face as he let his gaze drift outside, although he still watched out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry..” he started only for you to cut him off, “You ever been with a woman?”

even if you hadn’t cut his words off he’d be choking on them anyway. he trailed his gaze to you, a ruggish eyebrow tilting upwards as his mouth sat dumbly open.

when no response came from jason you stepped forward, reaching your hand out to trail the bones of his wrist.

he gave a choked out breath, “Not exactly ma’am” he said, voice suddenly wavering. suddenly nervous beyond belief and he’d be embarrassed about it, if it weren’t for the smile you sent his way.

you put both hands flat on his chest and he had to remind himself to stay upright. “What are you doing..” his voice was shaky, caught off guard and unable to believe what was happening.

you pressed your body into his and he had to bite down a long drawn out groan, his fingers digging into his thigh to remind himself to act accordingly—however that is in this situation.

“I see the way you look at me, i see how hard you work too..” you whispered, your hands moving up and down, the warmth of your fingers making his body shiver.

he couldn’t process words, couldn’t process a single thing. he reached a shaky hand out, and planted it in the curve of your waist.

“Look Miss, i ain’t sure what you’re tryna do, but you don’t have to do it..” his face looked down at you, his eyes taking in every piece of you he could, still admiring the beauty even when he’s refusing whatever you’re giving.

You gave a chuckle, pushed him further back causing his knees to buckle and for him to land flat on one of the chairs. one of his palms smacked down onto the dining table, trying to ground himself.

“What if i want you to?” you whispered, your lip slowly captured between your teeth as you stood in-front of him, both of your thighs pressing against his spread legs.

he threw his head back, eyes shut as he struggled to contain a groan. he was trying to hold himself back, not wanting to do anything incase he was misreading it, but you were tempting it all.

he was swiftly brought out of his thoughts when he felt a kiss to his neck, only for you to straddle his lap next. his hands quickly punched to wrap around your hips as he looked at you.

you only smiled back, he bit his lip. but he wasn’t able to stay contained for long, he gave a feral groan as he dove in, kissing at your neck and feeling up your hips all at once.

the pretty little meek moan you have caused his hands to shiver, making him trace his tongue over that sweet spot right under your jaw.

you were making quick work of your corset as he did the same with his vest. as soon as your corset fell off he was quick to unbutton the floral shirt you had underneath, his hands quick to grab at any every inch of skin he saw.

he dove his mouth onto your breasts, swirling his tongue right over the nip and looked up at you as you gave a guttural whimper.

the cocky laugh he gave reverberated against your skin, and all he could do was appreciate the sight, your hands grabbing at his forearms, your ass grinding into his bulge, the way your lashes fluttered and your lip wobbled.

you were captivating to jason.

after awhile of petting at each other the two of you had twisted your body to end up over the table, jason’s hands flat on your thighs as his heavy cock hung right over you.

you laid like a beautiful meal, and he couldn’t help but stare down hungrily. “Take me.. Please” you begged and he gave a groan as he dove in once again to kiss you.

your tongues fighting against each other as he stroked at himself, pushing himself in. the shiver you gave had him on a high, but he gave you a few moments to settle.

he wasn’t a cocky man, most of the time, but he knew he had a pretty impressive cock.

Your breath was shaking, wilted out yet so desperate. “I’m good..” you breathed and he nodded, pushing in again, the thrusts starting slow, almost teasing.

he had to pull himself back from slamming into you a few times, with the way you dragged your nails down his body or gave some sweet little sounds that caressed his ear.

but eventually you were practically begging for him to go faster, and he couldn’t hold back. his hips fell forward, meeting you every single time.

he held a hand in your hand, mainly so you wouldn’t smack it against the table, but also to kiss you at any moment he wanted to, and he really wanted to kiss you.

he gave a moan himself when your legs wrapped around him, suffocating himself to you. he slapped a plan onto the table as he leaned down closer to you, digging his head into your neck.

he was panting like a beast, unable to suck up enough air in time. “Goddamn miss.. you feel perfect” he held tight onto your hips.

he licked up your neck, pressed kisses here and there. his thumb dragged down over to your clit to give some teasing petting.

“I tried to never think about it.,” he huffed out. “you’re a lady after all, but.. god, this is perfect” he’d groan, heavy breaths sinking into your skin.

you were jumbling out your own words, curses he’d never heard you say of some praises that left his cock swirling heavy, until eventually you lightly smacked his back, voice high pitched and shaky as you practically screamed. “i’m close.. i’m so close”

just the words alone, the way you said it and the fact it came from you caused him to lurch forward, a heat signalling in his gut as he toyed with your clit.

he kissed you, gulping down all your sounds as the two of you came together. he was cautious to pull himself out.

when the moment had settled, the heat of your skin slowly passed and your breaths grew steady he turned his head to look at you.

offering a smile as he moved to grab your clothes for you, settling them beside where you laid as you looked up at the ceiling,

he moved to search for a washcloth, spending an embarrassing amount of time before eventually finding the cupboard.

however when he got back you were already dressed, he stood there, felling a little dumb as the water dripped down his hand before you gave him a soft smile.

you stepped closer and he remained in place, but when you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to give a feather light kiss, anxiety washed away.

[joelmillers-wife]

take my hand (joel miller x f!reader) chapter six

18+, MDNI series masterlist: here | please check this for complete series warnings and tags pairing: joel miller x f!reader chapter summary: your mind a mess of conflicting thoughts and feelings, you find solace in an unexpected person wc: 3.3k rating: this story is 18+ (minors, do not interact), there will be eventual smut in later chapters  chapter warnings and tags: cursing and tlou lore accurate outbreak content below, maria and tommy family time, talk of feelings, angst-ish, fluff-ish, brief mentions of the loss of children, (there’s no joel in this one I’M SORRY), reader has no description besides she has hair, jackson!joel, age difference: reader is in her 30s and joel is in his 50s, sloooow burn a/n: a short, early surprise chapter :) ao3 | follow @writtenbynic and turn on notifications for chapters! dividers made by: @saradika-graphics , check them out!

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VI. UNDER PRESSURE

'Cause love's such an old-fashioned word And love dares you to care for The people on the (People on streets) edge of the night And love (People on streets) dares you to change our way of Caring about ourselves

Winter had come and gone, and you had figured that spending two winters in Jackson would get you used to the cold, but it did not. Somehow it felt more brutal than the last, as if the weather evolved each year as the infection would—a constant mutating monster that got worse as time went on. 

With the spring, your plans to build that garden in your backyard were brought to life—Joel still being a part of that plan. You constantly reassured him he was not obligated to help, but you were always met with the same response. “I wanna help. Let me do this.”

Because, despite the seasons changing, Joel’s presence around you did not waver. He had kept good on his promise to fix that broken light in your house. And that one chance that he got to fix something inside your house only invited him to work on other things inside. You didn’t want to feel as if you were complaining—you appreciated the help and the company, and figured these were just things he had to do to keep himself busy when he had free time. 

You just couldn’t shake some feeling inside you, a feeling you still couldn’t quite place. People’s comments on Joel being around you had burrowed under your skin and created a warm and unpleasant pit in your stomach, making you try to figure out why him being around you made you feel so odd all of a sudden. Why people noticing this makes you feel weird.

Regardless, the time you spent together in your home only grew as you would offer him meals or to stay for a drink after work was done. He never let you pay him directly for the help by doing something for him in return, but you still wanted to give him something to reciprocate his kindness. 

“Don’t worry, darlin’. You don’t ever gotta owe me anythin’,” he’d say.

And, yeah. That word has still stuck around when he speaks to you—another thing that made you feel… warm. That pit in your stomach only started to grow until it ended up keeping you awake for longer than your usual anxiety kept you. 

You couldn’t figure out what to do with it—how to fix it. The first place your mind went to was asking Tommy about it, leaning into the fact that he would know why Joel is like this more than anyone, but the idea of that didn’t sit right. It felt odd going to Tommy for something so personal that regards his brother, and you definitely couldn’t go to Ellie about it. So, that left you with one last person you thought could help.

You shuffle back and forth on your feet as you stand waiting for the front door to open after knocking. As a few seconds pass, your insecurity begins brewing. This was a stupid idea… What the fuck were you thinking? 

Quickly, you decide that no one is probably home and turn to leave, when you hear a noise behind the door before it opens.

You twist your body back to face the door, one foot already backed up ready to leave. Maria stands there looking surprised, but not upset at your appearance before speaking your name, her voice lifting up at the end in question.

“Hey,” you breathe out, suddenly unsure of your decision to come here. “Is, uh—is Tommy home?”

She looks out behind you before saying, “No, I’m sorry, honey, you just missed him. He went out in town to get Benjamin some fresh air while I worked on some things at home. He should be back in an hour if you wanted to wait here?”

You shake your head gently. “Oh, no that’s alright. I actually, um… I wanted to talk to you on your own for a bit. Only if you aren’t too busy.”

Her eyebrows raise momentarily before a warm smile appears on her face. That’s why you wanted to come to her, you realize—her natural ability to make you feel safe.

“Not at all. I need a break from working on these damn blueprints,” Maria says before gesturing to you to come in. “Please, come in and make yourself comfortable.”

Maria steps aside a bit, allowing you the space to walk inside before she shuts the door softly behind you. A brief touch on your shoulder as she passes by indicates for you to begin following her into the living area, where you find papers laying out on the coffee table.

“Do you want me to make you any tea or coffee?” She offers.

“Tea, please,” you say with a grateful smile. She nods once before turning into the kitchen to make the drinks. Taking a second to look around while nervously fidgeting with your hands, your body gravitates to the fireplace mantle where a small chalkboard is placed in the center of the shelf. Written on the board are the names Kevin and Sarah, with the respective dates below it—the memorial of their lives. 

Maria had spoken about her son before the outbreak, Kevin, and you of course knew of Sarah. You remember the first time you came here, you didn’t know about Joel’s daughter, and assumed the memorial was some family member to either Tommy or Maria, considering you never took a closer look at the dates out of respect. Now, knowing what you do, the sight of the board makes your heart ache.

You’ve been over here a few times before—enjoying dinners with the couple and their child, or coming over for small meetings with some other members of the community. You just couldn’t recall a time where you spoke only with Maria, let alone about matters that didn’t regard things in town.

The sound of the tea kettle whistling grabs your attention, and you walk into the kitchen to find Maria preparing the mugs for the two of you. Hearing your presence, she turns around briefly to smile at you, gesturing at the table for you to sit down. 

“Make yourself at home. Sorry for the mess,” she says, referring to the array of blueprints and clipboards sprawled across the dining table, similar to the living room table. “We’ve been needing to build a lot more houses and space recently with all the newcomers. I thank God for marrying an ex-contractor, and getting my brother-in-law, even if he pisses me off most of the time.”

You chuckle softly at Maria’s teasing talk of Joel—the mention of him bringing a smile to your face without even thinking, before the same feeling in your gut warns again and you’re reminded of why you are here.

As you move to sit down at one of the seats, Maria brushes away some of the papers to make room for the two of you. She makes her way over to the fridge, asking, “Are you a milk or honey person with your tea?”

“Milk, please, and sugar if you have it.”

A soft nod can be seen from behind her as she pulls the milk jug and begins to prepare the tea for the two of you. 

Rounding the table to set one down in front of your seat before settling herself in the chair across from you, she asks you, “Is everything okay? Is there an issue with your house or something with the work?” 

You quickly settle her concern. “No, everything is perfect with that, thank you.” You look down to your mug, rubbing your fingers over the handle of it as your nerves take over more and that insecurity begins to build again.

God… Why does this feel so awkward?

“I actually—I wanted to talk to you about something a bit more… personal, I suppose.”

A slight look of shock fills her features before it gets overtaken with a more serious expression—Maria sitting up straighter in her chair and leaning her arms on the table to show you she’s paying attention. The sight calms you a bit as you recognize that same trusting, yet stern, look she had given you that first day in Jackson. “Of course, sweetheart. You can share anything you’d like, whenever you’re ready.”

Her reassurance washes over you, quieting the noise in your mind and calming the anxiety brewing in you. It’s the push you need before sighing and blurting it out.

“Why does Joel always spend time with me?”

Maria doesn’t react at first, before doing a double take, tilting her head towards you with confusion. “I’m sorry, what?”

You sigh before looking back down to your mug, tracing your fingers over the ridges from the floral design surrounding it, before all the words you’ve had trapped inside you just comes out. 

“He, recently, is always at my house. He started doing it by saying that Ellie would tell him about things I need fixed at my house—stuff in my yard or front porch. But then, at the Christmas party, I told Ellie thanks for letting him know, and she said she didn’t bring anything up.”

You look down, frowning at the mug in your hand as you recall Ellie’s words. “She said that Joel would tell her about things he noticed regarding me. And a little before that night, people in town were whispering and giggling over Joel being around me a lot, saying that he’s always near. I didn’t believe that, but then when Ellie told me that stuff, I realized that he really does kinda just… show up? I mean I don’t think I’m bothered by it. Just that… I don’t know, it feels weird for some reason. And I didn’t know who to talk to about it because it felt weird to go to Tommy or Ellie with this, and you’re the only other person I think would know him the most. And… frankly, you’re someone I trust the most around here.” 

Taking a deep breath after the end of your rambling, the trembling feeling that’s been growing in you for months seems to settle into an afterthought—as if voicing everything has brought you a sense of peace, even if briefly.

You look up to face Maria again, but the reaction you see isn’t one you were expecting. Her brows were completely shot up, eyes slightly wide and her lips parted open and twitching up a bit at the corners.

Great. She was laughing at you.

Filled with embarrassment, you shake your head and move to get up. “I’m sorry, this was dumb, I shouldn’t have—”

Maria straightens up and grabs your arm to keep you seated, shaking her head.“Sweetie, no, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I promise.”

Still uneasy, you feel tense as you wait to see what she has to say, hesitantly lowering yourself back into your seat, bracing your mind for whatever words she has to say. Your body sinks into the chair, as if you want to burrow deep into the wood and away from this moment.

Maria slouches back into her seat almost comically and looks off to the side, softly huffing out a laugh before turning to look at you. “Joel—oh god, um… Joel, from what I know of him, struggles with showing people he cares.” She pauses to look at you, her eyebrows raised and head tilted in hopes that you understand what she’s trying to say. 

You shake your head, feeling clueless. “I… I mean I knew that, but… what does that have to do with me?”

She smiles and sighs, closing her eyes briefly to formulate her words. “The only two people I’ve seen Joel be comfortable around are Tommy and Ellie. Even then, there’s this wall between him and them—thin, almost as if it’s through a veil. Something that slightly clouds the vulnerability between him and the ones closest to him.”

Maria frowns for a moment, but her face shifts into something resembling sympathy. “No one here in town has had a conversation longer than a few minutes with Joel before—me included. Our talks are strictly business or cordial. Now he knows I’m not the biggest fan of him and his… past, but I know when he does care because I see him with that little girl or my husband. Joel shows his love for those two by doing things for them or getting gifts he thinks that Ellie would like.”

You wait a moment for her to continue, but she just looks at you expectantly, as if you were meant to catch on by now. That was true, you suppose—you’ve seen Joel go out of his way to get things to make Ellie happy, or do things that contribute to the community simply because Tommy and Maria asked of him. 

That was expected, though. He loves them—they’re his family. 

Your thoughts leading you nowhere, you shake your head slowly at Maria in confusion until she reaches over to grab your hand. Cautiously, as if unsure how to speak to you, Maria asks, “Honey… have you ever liked someone?”

Your confusion only deepens as you try to piece together why she asked that. “Of course I have. I like many people here.”

Her lips quirk up again. “I mean, have you ever liked someone? Romantically?”

Oh.

Your eyes widen. No… this isn’t that. 

She speaks up before your anxiety takes over completely, her hands held out in front of her cautiously as if trying to calm a wild animal. “There’s nothing wrong with that, I promise. I’m not saying that you necessarily have those feelings for Joel, but more so that I think he has feelings for you. I just don’t think he knows how to show it.”

You look back down to the mug in front of you, trying to focus on the swirling patterns the milk has made with the tea—trying to focus on anything to distract from whatever the fuck is running through your mind.

Maria speaks your name softly, making you force yourself to look at her. “When you said it makes you feel weird, is it like there’s butterflies in your stomach?” She asks.

“More like a blizzard.”

She lets out a laugh. “Oh I know that feeling all too well,” she says, before her face settles into a more serious expression. “I think you may like Joel in the same way that I think he likes you. You don’t need to do anything with that right now, though. If you aren’t sure what is going on then you do not need to rush and figure it out. I’m just offering what I think is happening and what it may mean.”

You take in her words and consider what you know about romantic feelings—a crush, as you have heard. She wasn’t wrong to ask if you ever felt something like that before, because… you haven’t. The state of life made the notion of a crush not be something that had ever crossed your mind. It was almost a fairytale. Something that always felt so out of reach—not something tangible to you. It makes sense that you wouldn’t recognize what the feeling was yourself, let alone know what it looked like on someone else. 

You briefly recall some moments that happened when you had first arrived in Jackson, a few instances at the mess hall or bar where men had come up to talk to you. You had taken it as them being polite to newcomers, but the giggling and whispering from other women around had made you feel uneasy. Embarrassingly, the person who had to tell you what their real intentions were, was the damn teenager you had befriended. 

“Dude. You’re hot. They’re flirting with you. Come on,” Ellie would say. The realization made you feel odd and caused you to avoid interacting with them for too long, coming up with an excuse to leave. It hadn’t happened for the past few months though, thank god—

Oh, fuck.

Your eyes widen as you realize something while sitting there processing what Maria had said. Those moments with the men in town had stopped a few months ago… when Joel and you had become friends.

He’s always near you.

Maria notices your expression and gives you a knowing smile. “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry to have thrown this at you at once.”

Shaking your head, you tell her, “No this… this isn’t your fault. I mean, thank you, ya know, for telling me all this in the first place.”

Her hand soothingly rubs up and down your arm that plays on the table. “Of course. I hope you know you can come to me about anything like this whenever, okay?”

You subconsciously nod at her, your mind still reeling with all the thoughts racing through you as you try to piece everything together.

The sound of the front door opening pulls you away from your thoughts, causing you to straighten up and look more present.

You hear the sounds of a child giggling before you see Tommy appear in the doorway with Benjamin held on his hip. He looks at his wife with a smile before his gaze lands on you with a surprised expression. “Hey, m’sorry to barge in—didn’t know it was a girls day today.”

Maria laughs before standing up and collecting your two now-empty mugs, bringing them over to the kitchen counter. “No worries, honey. Seems like my mind was read by her because she gave me a much needed break,” you hear her voice travel as she walks. 

You stand from your seat as you get ready to head out. “Yeah, sorry… I should’ve given you a heads up before coming over. I don’t mean to keep you too long while you’re busy.”

Walking back into the dining area, Maria shakes her head. “Believe me, you do not need to ever apologize for stopping by.” She gives you a pointed look, with understanding in her eyes. “You’re always more than welcome here. We appreciate the company, truly.”

Tommy gives you a nod as well, silently reaffirming the sincerity that Maria conveyed to you. You take a second to look at them in front of you—Tommy holding their son while looking at Maria lovingly. The ease they both share around each other. The home they’ve built together, both physically and emotionally. 

It makes your throat tighten for a moment, taking in their words as they offer you the right to be a part of their lives so openly. It’s a feeling of comfort you haven’t had in a long time, and one you didn’t think you were deserving of—one you didn’t even think was possible for you in this lifetime. A fairytale.

Maria looks at you for confirmation that you believe her, you nod your head with a small smile—your eyes watery. “Thank you, Maria.” She returns your smile before offering for you to stay for a bit while Tommy makes dinner.

“No, thank you. I told myself I’d get some organizing done on my few days off, so I need to get back home to do that.”

She nods in understanding and walks you over to the door, stopping to hug Tommy and say your goodbyes to him and Benjamin on the way.

As you reach the door where Maria waits for you, you give her a hug as well when she leans in to whisper in your ear. “You tell me if you need anything in this situation—I happen to be sorta good at giving love advice.” She pulls away with a soft smirk before her face hardens, transitioning into one more serious.

“And just… be careful when it comes to him, alright?”

You pull away from her, the last thing she said confusing you for a moment as your eyebrows lightly twitching. Not mentioning it, you quietly thank her again for the advice and say goodbye to her before heading outside.

That word she had said before you left, love, ringing in your ears the whole walk home. With it, the idea of that fairytale begins to fill your mind and slip into your dreams.

a/n: surprise! wanted to post this short chapter before I post chapter seven this saturday, hope you guys enjoy <3

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[shinylipglosss]

FREAK

knight henry cavill x prince reader

summary: after a gruelling swordsmanship lesson with the head of your knight guard, henry, you relax for a while until henry comes to your study/bedroom to help with your forms. ;)

warnings: inexperienced henry, blowjob, part 2 maybe, i lowkey love this plot, taboo, henry needs guidance, henry is stern, reluctance, mlm, gay asf

spotify

My limbs ached. Sweat dripped from my brow, threatening to break my concentration. Fighting against Henry was a struggle in itself, but being inexperienced and fighting him was even harder. My father, the king, had constantly pushed me to improve in the art of sword. But I always pushed him off.

Knocking me from my own thoughts, Henry advanced striking above my head with a sharp, precise blow. He wouldn’t attack with this strength if he thought I couldn’t handle it. Henry had become the head of my knight guard last winter and he was been excellent at it. He is extremely protective of “his prince”. This Henry felt different though. My steel blade sung as it collided with his. He was stronger—much more so. He put his weight on his blade, forcing me to my knees. Brows furrowed, I tried desperately to stand back up. Eventually, I surrendered.

-

Later that night, I was in my study when I heard a knock at my door. “Sire?” It was Henry. Despite me being younger than him, he still continued to address me as his senior.

“What is it, Henry?” His eyes impassive, he entered my study and closed the door.

“Apologies for the intrusion, my prince, but I was wondering if I could give you some tips when it comes to your swordsmanship?” In truth I had always been intrigued by the man. His body filled out the already-large armour so nicely. He had a collection of strong features on his face that composed a handsome man. It was no surprise that I agreed.

“Like this?” Henry’s arms were entwined with mine, his body behind mine. His silver armour was thick but strong. Yet it was thin enough for me to feel his hard, toned body. He had gathered my sword and put it in my hand.

“Almost.” His deep voice soothed my ears. He spoke so much with his chest that his entire body rattled as he talked. He planted my hands higher on the hilt and talked right into my ear. “Like that.” I flushed. For some reason he was making me extremely nervous. I hadn’t felt like that before. Except around him.

After some hours of training with his help, I turned to face him—clad in armour. “Thank you. You’ve been helpful, truly.” I stared into his eyes. They were an uncommon shade of blue that seemed to light any time you looked into them. His eyebrows arched in surprise. He didn’t take his eyes off mine.

“The pleasure is mine…I—I wish always to help my prince.” He was taller than me. Quite drastically so that, this close to him, he had to really look down on me. In truth, I found it exhilarating.

It was as if a compulsion had befallen me. In that moment I wanted nothing more than to taste his lips, possibly more than his lips. I leaned in, going to my tip-toes to reach his lips. Though he pulled back. Somewhat crestfallen I asked him why he pulled back.

“Sire, I am sworn to protect you. To do something like that with you…it’s…it’s wrong.” Even with his words forming a thick wall between us, I could see a desperate hunger within his eyes.

“Knights must swear fealty, yes?”

“Of course, any true knight wouldn’t even think twice about those—“

I cut him off.

“So you’re loyal to me and only me. I’m asking this from you. Don’t act like you don’t want it too.” I could see his mind working behind those eyes. It was one of the first times I had seen emotion from him. Any other time he would have a straight face and a stern voice. But right then he had his eyes widened and his mouth slightly open.

“Even so, sire, it’s bad practice to do something with whom you’re sworn protection to.”

“Well…” I slipped my hands to his neck, the cold of his armour stinging me, though I didn’t show it. “Would it not be easier to protect me if you were in my bed with me?”

Silence. My eyes darted across his face searching for an indicator if he would finally let his vows go for a night. His tongue licked his lips; he let out a growl, deep and gentle. For me that was the best sign of resignation I would get. I crashed my mouth into his. I could feel the odd patches of stubble on his face where he had shaved. It made me feel warm to know thing knew about him. He was not only protective of me, but protective about himself. I knew practically nothing about him, but, the way he held my head in his hands—pulling me closer—I felt as if he’d known me my whole life.

I was now behind Henry, unlatching huge chunks of his armour and wincing as they fell, clanging to the ground. With each piece of armour gone, a new area of Henry unlocked for me. I hadn’t seen the sun-glazed skin of his lower back, it was always covered by the same polished armour. Something entirely new to me was his large arm muscles. I traced the skin free from the metal, feeling the clear distinctions from each muscle.

“You train this much to protect me?” The sentiment was one I enjoyed quite much.

“Everyday, at dawn.”

I let out a chuckle. “So that’s why I can’t find you in the mornings.”

“You look for me?” He had turned ever so slightly, looking at me as I dropped he last armour piece to the ground. He had the hints of a smile on his face. Even a single new expression from Henry was enough to get me hot and bothered.

“When I want to.” I remarked. Pushing Henry onto the soft silk of my bed, I drop to my knees. “You‘ve never…?” My cheeks flushing at the thought of Henry doing anything sexual. He shook his head. Even I was surprised that I had more experience than him. I unlaced his brown undergarments. I knew his eyes were dark on mine. Every second or so I glanced up and saw he was watching my every move with intention lighting behind his eyes. It was my last confirmation that he did want this as much as me before I dropped his pants to the ground.

What sprung out before me shocked me. Henry, sitting on the edge of the bed, leaned back on his forearms. He was the picture of pure pride. Then he saw my reaction to him and chuckled deeply. Again, I felt that warmth inside. That was new, same as before, but it was even better. I made an agreement with myself then: “If Henry refuses to show you his emotions, make him.”

I began my expedition on Henry’s warmth by using my mouth on his testicles. He seemed to like that very much. He smelled unnaturally good for being in hot gear for hours on end. I treated each of his testicles, swapping from his right to his left then licking in between them. He reacted kindly to that, muttering incoherent words whilst I worked on him. I worshipped the base of his penis, working my way up to his tip. Henry’s tip was a pretty pink that was the complete antithesis of the rough man spread out before me. He seemed to be 7 inches by the time I had begun to engulf him.

I practically salivated tasting the soft skin on the head; my mouth bumped over the thick veins scattered around his shaft. Henry’s eyes were still on me, or perhaps he was watching the way I sucked him, having never felt it before. Either way I was entirely satisfied.

Inch by inch I took him deeper into my mouth. It was completely taboo, that was why I enjoyed it. If anyone were to see us, Henry would be killed on the spot. They would accuse him on manipulation, possibly witchcraft. Though it had felt like witchcraft watching him enchant me the way he had. I forced myself all the way down on his member then hallowing my cheeks to make Henry get everything out of my throat. For all his time protecting me, he deserved it. He deserved to be served by his prince.

“Does this feel good?” I huffed in the small moments I wasn’t sucking his tip.

“Entirely,” Henry panted, still trying to keep his manners straight. “sire.” He gracefully undid the lace of his shirt and let it fall past his shoulders. From my perspective in between his thighs, I studied the form of his chest. Unlike his hygiene he didn’t bother with his body hair, letting it grow wildly where it was permitted. That being his chest and his abdomen. I hadn’t realised how much I needed to see that until he allowed me to see it. My hands guided his penis further into my mouth. It was amusing to watch such a brooding man haven’t a single idea about sex.

“Thrust your hips, Henry.” I seductively whispered at him. He did as his prince asked him and forced his hips in the air with precision and aim, managing to hit deep into my throat. His breath started to get cut off by the clear pleasure he was feeling. All I did was sit prettily with my mouth engulfing his length as his hips gained speed. He placed a hand on my head and kindly forced my mouth deeper into him. His hips hung in the air as he finished in me. Henry’s mouth was open with euphoria and if I could have moved my mouth I would have smiled. That was another new expression I hadn’t seen from him. It was caused solely by me. The hot liquid that seeped from his head into my mouth was new to me. I had had many male suitors but none that I allowed to finish inside me. Yet I allowed Henry. It was odd, for me to be so careless. Henry let out a final exasperated gasp before he came back to his senses and let me free of his member. I came back gagging, yet I still had a humour etched on my face.

“Sire did I hurt you?” Henry panicked. “I apologise I had got caught up in that feeling…” He looked fearful of me now. Like I would tell someone about this and get him hanged.

So instead, I laughed it off and sat on his lap ready for even more of the head of my knight guard.

[undercoveravenger]

Gale's Barbarian (Headcanons)

Pairing: Gale x Barbarian!Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “Gale dekarios x himbo barbarian male reader who is well meaning and caring but dumb as rock head cannons”

A/N: Okay, but I love smart-as-hell + dumb-as-a-brick duos. Hope you enjoy!

-----

Gale’s not sure what he was expecting when a hand clasps his to pull him back through the portal. Someone demanding repayment for their good deed, perhaps? He was not anticipating you.

He’s knocked off balance as his feet hit solid ground again and he has to remind himself that the sudden wave of dizziness is just a result of the magic (it’s definitely not attraction, that would be preposterous, wouldn’t it?)

He continues telling himself that each day when he joins you on your quest to rid your little adventuring party of the illithid tadpoles infecting you, despite the perpetual distraction posed by your flexing muscles and towering physique and the memory of how nice it felt to have you holding his hand.

Despite how undeniably kind you seem, Gale is naturally hesitant to tell you about his… condition. Eventually though, the time comes and he broaches the subject with you. Explains that he needs magic to keep himself from coming apart at the seams and that he understands that it’s inconvenient to sacrifice a magical item in order to - oh? You’re just giving that to him? Just like that?

It’s like you don’t even need to think about it. He needs a magic item? Sure, will this work? He’s never had someone be so… eager to help him. Gale almost wonders if you’ve got some ulterior motive.

Soon enough he learns that that’s just who you are, eager to help those who need it. Volunteering to find the druid Halsin to help the tieflings and to find a girl whose brothers think she was taken by a hag. It’s… heartwarming, to say the least.

He’s a scholar though, simply being kind isn’t enough to win his heart. He needs to be challenged! But well, when you agree to let him show you the Weave - the look in your eyes as you see the magic of the universe stitching together around you - well, there are other things than studiousness.

Okay, so maybe he admires you as more than a comrade, but he’ll be hells-damned before he says anything about it! At least, that’s what he resolves to until he sees Astarion of all people cozying up to you at camp a few days out from reaching Baldur’s Gate. Then he has to take action.

He sends a projection to disturb your moment with the vampire, to call you away to the spot he’d picked out in a meadow nearby. The sky is big and bright and colorful stretched out above the both of you and it feels like a good night for taking chances.

He finds it surprisingly difficult to find the words to do this - to tell you what he’s feeling- with you sitting there beside him. But that’s okay because you’re patient. You sit there beside him, watching the aurora above you.

Eventually he manages “I like you, rather a lot, really.” And you smile at him and he can feel his hopes lifting. 

He gets an “I like you too, Gale. You’re a great friend!” for his trouble.

Okay, so it’s back to the drawing board. He tries bringing you flowers and you ask him if he wants you to try to make a flower crown out of them for him, because why else would he be bringing you a bouquet? He tries to make your favorite food for dinner (and did not burn it, thank you very much!) and you just attribute it to coincidence!

From there he decides he must forsake the classic cliches because clearly they are not working. Eventually he manages to persuade you into a walk, just the two of you, and decides he needs to just come out with it. 

“I like you,” he has to be quick before you can dismiss it as friendship again, “I really quite like you. And I’m not sure if I wasn’t clear enough before, but I like you in a romantic fashion and I would rather like the opportunity to be your partner if you find that amenable.”

It takes you a second to parse through the big words (he rambles when he’s nervous, okay?) but then there’s “oh? Oh! That’s- you were trying to ask me out before?” and Gale wants to slap himself but then you smile and lean in to kiss him and Gale thinks that everything may be alright after all.

[kncrowder88]

I have caught up with Ghosts now and this is the one thing I really need .....

Thor to pick up Elias and throw him off the property. I don't care where he next appears just ... grab him and throw him clear past the boundary line. To the Farnsby property even. I don't care if he potentially could just snap right back to them. Make it a new game for the ghosts - see Elias, toss Elias. Whoever throws him furthest gets a prize.

This also applies to if Hetty's father ever shows up. Added bonus game: any ghosts with weapons utilize weapons.

Now, I say this for a reason ... obviously I love Hetty. However, as I watch the show I have a sneaking suspicion (that the show may or may not confirm) that the version if Hetty we see (even in S1) didn't really start to exist until AFTER Alberta died. Think about it ...

The ghosts (Thor, Isaac, Sasappis, and Patience) got trapped in a hole a year before her death. It's how they didn't know about the vault. She had been traveling (to Michigan- the furthest she seems to ever have gone) just before her own death, and thus why she didn't know. Isaac, Thor, and Sass all confirmed that she was already a ghost when they got back to the house (Patience left behind and with everything that happened ... they managed to forget about going back for Patience).

This leaves Hetty with just the boys. Just them (and the basement ghosts and of course the British ghosts in the shed).

While Hetty was of the upper class and wealthy. Of privilege, she was still - obviously - a woman and as such considered a lesser member of society during her life. And her family treated her as such. We get told this a lot. The one time she almost escaped it - fell in love and was going to run away - her father holds her mothers sanity over her head and forces her to make a choice (while blatantly reminding her it was he who put her mother where she is). We get told she was the price of a land deal - simply because she was the prettier one. Her husband cheats on her, and canonically refers to her as "obedient wife". Even the way she stands - well into the 4th season - says so much about her.

She is the dutiful, obedient, welbred proper woman who will do as told and never complain. For that is her duty.

She makes comments that reflect that, showing just how much she accepted what she was being told at the time.

The thing is .... she died in 1895 in a desperate attempt to save her son from the shame of his father's actions - and by default her actions as she is the dutiful wife afterall, her husband's choices are hers as well, right? - and no one was there after. No one to watch what she did. No one to stand in horror. No one to see the fallout of the vault, the lawyer talk with her, the police coming for her, and her final decision. And, finally, her appearing alone as her staff and the police would have come across her body. And she - ghost as she was - would have been unable to do anything to explain her actions.

All the could do was .... walk through her manor alone. Listen to what these people say. Look over her son as he now takes on the responsibility of the family. And, being the dutiful wife and mother .... stand at his side in her death desperately trying to ensure he makes the right choices.

I'd imagine when the others did get back ... they probably tried to tell her. Tried to give her a welcome. Only for her to not listen, to stubbornly be "the lady of the house" and refuse to accept them as anything more than servants for her now. I could see her insisting on this or that, and it's not much different than what they normally do (spy on livings) so they just shrug and go, believing she'll adjust eventually. But it's not till the night her son poisons Alberta that things shift.

She watches, as this new ghosts appears and the others immediately arrive to welcome her. Immediately ease her into what is happening. She slips backwards - unnerved by this (afterall SHE didn't have that, not till later. Not till after) - only revealing herself when forced to. Alberta makes a "I could definitely use a drink about now" style comment and much to the others surprise Hetty mutters a "cocaine be nice".

Isaac has already been joing Hetty to gaze out windows before this, but it's been silent. Just a sort of stand and say nothing together thing. A means to ensure she isn't alone but the next time when he joins her, it's her who first breaks the silence with a "I didn't see another ghost for days" "we didn't know till we got back" "You all said you got lost" "By accident" "Then ... we make sure it doesn't happen again."

She doesn't say it, and Isaac doesn't ask. It's years later after Sam arrives, and the truth of how Hetty died that she does finally say it out loud and everyone starts to piece together the way Hetty did actually care (even when it seemed like she didnt). The ghost buddy system was her idea, the checking where people where was her, the constant assuring everyone was not somehow lost was her (it's worked till the whole Flower well thing obviously) .... and she's done it all this time because she never wanted someone else to arrive without being welcomed. Without being shown care.

And this is why Elias and her father should be greeted very specific ways. And when they get upset and pull a "not in my house" the immediate reaction from every ghost (and Sam - and Jay by context clues) just instantly being "Excuse you, the lady of the house is Hetty." with added commentary ("yeah, we just keep it for her" "right, I gotta make sure she has her cocaine when I die AND cook the best foods for her to smell") would be amazing.

Admittedly, I suspect something like this would be part of what would get Hetty sucked off. That sudden realization that she has a real true HEALTHY family, that she has been living her life(in death) her way giving her the happiness she finally deserves.... but like I mean .... I can wait for it and they can spread out the torment Elias by tossing him over a few seasons.

Also, introducing the dad as a Hell management person as well in a later season to lead up to something like this be good.

[emblemxeno]

Random Fates thoughts that I wanted to write down

I think a personal reason why I love Fates' (and most other FE games') writing so much is because Fates doesn't shy away from meaningfully analyzing and criticizing how war comes to be and what it does to people.

It rightfully points out that Nohr's militaristic culture is bad, as well as Hoshido's isolationism and xenophobia. Most of all though, it rightfully deduces that war is unnatural, a product of terrible and/or aggrieved and resentful people stoking prejudices and anger in others, so they can end up profitting off it when the innocents start fighting each other.

Anankos even says, verbatim, "Why should I suffer alone?" He's all powerful, but access to power can corrupt someone over time and make them go off the deep end. It happens where one unfair backlash forces him into exile. He becomes resentful, paranoid. And he begins to spread that volatility to others. The war that eventually breaks out is then able to fuel itself because of cyclical violence, vengeance, and ignoranace, aspects that Fates also heavily touches on.

Nohr and Hoshido would not have as hostile a relationship that they have were their cultures not set into motion by Anankos' influence, first by razing Valla, then corrupting Nohr through Garon, then by attacking Hoshido. Nohr, while still suffering from poor harvests and rough terrain, would not be obsessed with conquest as a way of survival. Hoshido, while still isolationist, would not sink into outlandish xenophobia that results in anyone with ties to Nohr being branded a monster or a traitor.

And who else profits from the war? Other notable scumbags, like Iago (wants power), Hans (wants his own country), Kotaro (wants Hoshido for himself), etc.

There's other little things that, thanks to Corrin being the protagonist, sets up a certain lens to see through, as well.

Every life is precious and every time one is lost, it's treated with necessary weight.

Being a prince and a relative of both royal families means your action has more consequence than just fighting your siblings, it affects the situation of the common people and military as well.

Compassion, empathy and will is the cure to destructive warfare. Corrin would never meaningfully be able to pick a side, had he not been written being raised in Nohr, nor written as a character who's unendingly kind, broadening his horizons and has an unflinching moral code.

I just love this stuff! I know most people prefer the "both sides have a point, no one's truly at fault here" kind of message that a certain other game presents, but I think that comes across as victim blame-y and almost inane in how there's no endgoal.

No, actually, it's not reasonable to propose that people will always eventually devolve into war because they have clashing ideals. In fact, what hastens a war's ignition is unconditionally validating every single perspective while not offering any criticism. When you have no endgoal for your grand war story beyond "war is bad, isn't it tragic that good people fight each other", to me, that reads as pretty infantile and lame. Especially when it's obvious that avoidance of proper criticism and analysis in-universe is done in the name of protecting the good reputation of certain characters over others.

What I like about most FE stories, is that after establishing that there are differing perspectives, the heroes communicate where the root cause is for this war, who is responsible, who profits off of it, and solve it. Is it often a Problem Dragon? Yeah. But a) the Problem Dragon is often a metaphor for a bigger theme and so shouldn't be so easily dismissed and b) a story that just says "well war happens because humans disagree and that's always gonna be the case, feel sad about it" fucking blows. It's banal and empty, giving the illusion of depth because people say "it doesn't shy away from grim tragedy", when in actuality, it's just a whole lot of nothing.

What are you providing in your story when your big picture rests upon a supposed "perpetual truth"? Because not only is that not inspiring, it provides no meaningful answer to the big "So What?" question that is asked of any literature.

Fates, on the other hand, answers those questions handily. If the game's actual prose was written better, I have no doubt that more and more would consider my belief on that.

[apple-yan]

The Problem With Generosity

Fae Prince Saffron (male Yandere) x G/N Reader

TW : Yandere, Fae shenanigans, Family death, reader smokes

Apple's Note : if you would like me to label specific triggers in my yandere writing, please feel free to ask me to. Thank you.

You were always taught to be a caring and considerate child growing up. Sharing your toys and snacks without being asked, giving up your turn on the swing for a younger child, even letting a classmate have your favorite backpack charm.

All this, and just because you had always been told by your grandmother that it was polite to give to others. That doing the right thing mattered more than getting what you wanted. You knew (you hoped) that eventually your kind actions and selfless behavior would be repayed, and so you remained patient.

When you turned twelve years old your family moved to a new house in a new town, closer to your grandmother. Whilst helping her water her garden (as you so often offered) she warned you that Fae Folk lived in the woods surrounding the small town, and that you should never do anything to offend them.

Considering your Grandmother's advice, and your giving attitude, you instantly thought of a solution to make the fae like you. Each night, before you'd go to bed, you would sneak into the backyard and leave a candy and a handwritten note just by the edge of the trees.

"I hope we can be friends someday!"

If only you had known just how well your plan had worked on the redheaded boy watching you from the branches.

---

It had been years since you had visited your parents house, and the wet cold of the area was something you thought you'd never adjust to whenever you visited home. Though it never snowed in this area, the frigid wind and the soggy ground made for an awful time walking between your parked car and your childhood home.

You had come back to town for your grandmother's funeral. It honestly shocked you how long she had made it, living on her own until 98. You had seen this coming for a while, but you couldn't help the tears when your mother had called with the news.

Your father was a wreck, as much as he didn't show it, so you did your best to make things easier on him. You had been the one to arrange the majority of the funeral planning, including the hotel reservations for the family that would have to fly in.

As you walked towards the entrance of your parent's house, knowing full well where the spare key was and that they were both asleep and would greet you in the morning, you were surprised to see your favorite childhood candy sitting on the table beside the front door. Next to the candy, there was a handwritten note, "Welcome back, (Y/N)!"

You smile, how thoughtful of your parents to leave you a gift even though they couldn't stay awake to greet you. You pop the piece of candy in your mouth as you quietly make your way inside, luggage in tow.

Somewhere distantly, you almost think you hear wind chimes.

---

The service and memorial had been tiring, a three hour passive aggression competition between your aunts and uncles who had never even visited your grandmother in her old age.

As each of them gave speeches about how wise and kind she was and how they didn't know how they could go on without her, you had begun counting the seconds on the clock.

You were unsurprised when there were people attending who you hadn't known. High school and university friends of hers, book club members, neighbors and people in the community who she had helped in various ways in her charitable old age.

One such guest had caught your attention though. A man with striking red hair and green eyes. You don't think you've ever seen him in town before, but then again it has been years. You find yourself wondering who he is, and who your grandmother was to him.

Eventually it was time to get leaving, and as everyone funneled out you caught him staring at you just the same way you had stared at him. Something about his eyes felt strangely familiar.

---

Sometimes when around family for too long, you needed time to yourself. Somewhere to escape to, to cool off.

The family had all gathered in your parents' house after the funeral, and you found yourself becoming frustrated quite quickly with the conversations being had. "Who gets the house?", "Did she have life insurance?", "She told me that ring would be mine!" blah, blah, blahblahblah.

You were sick of it. Such selfish people taking advantage of their own mother even after she was dead. You excused yourself to have a smoke outside.

After a long drag, you heard what sound like a wind chime coming from the forest, and you glanced up from your phone to see the redheaded man standing just a bit to close for comfort. Startled, you dropped your cigarette and phone while jumping back, your heart-rate going a mile a minute.

"W-Who-?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spook ya. You may call me Saffron. I'm deeply sorry for your loss, Helen was a wonderful woman."

Calming down, you nodded. He must have joined the dozens of nameless faces that had piled in to your father's family room after the service. "Thanks. Uh, how'd you know her?"

"She lived here a long time, her and my family were... acquainted." He smiles, "We live a bit outside of town, past the woods, so you and I must have never really bumped paths. How strange."

You nodded, pretending to listen while you pick up your phone and now muddy cigarette, putting the cigarette in your pocket to throw away later.

"Ah, by the way, I didn't catch it earlier, may I have your name?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, it's (Y/N)."

"Great. I was waiting for you to give it to me. You have always been so generous, haven't you?"

When you had glanced back up from wiping dirt off your phone screen and seen the pointed ears and impossibly bright eyes, it was already too late for second guessing.

[ghoastixx]

Would these slashers make you take your meds? ageless and g/n reader

Includes: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Bubba Sawyer, Nubbins Sawyer, Chop-Top Sawyer, Drayton Sawyer, Billy Lenz, Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Billy Loomis & Stu Macher, Michael Myers (RZ), Carrie White, Hannibal Lecter & Will Graham, Brahams Heelshire, The lost boys

Content included: pills obviously though not specified, mentions of OD, urging to not take your meds (take your meds guys please), bad behavior, shame (kind of??)

Authors note: guys oml take your medicine don't listen to the murders. This is a work of fiction, your meds are here to help you. Trust me, I know it is a pain to take and or remember to take them, but they do help. Take them.

Inspired by me forgetting to take my medicine last night :(

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

Bo Sinclair

yeah, Bo would make you take your meds

"I already have to deal with running this whole town, don't make me run your medicine schedule."

I don't think he'd care much, but he gets pissy if you don't tell him when you are in need of a refill soon and wait til last minute so he has to go into town THAT DAY, he gets so mad about it

"Don't even try that 'I forgot' shit again,"

He just needs someone else sane around here

overall 7/10 he keeps you straight but lets you regulate yourself

Vincent Sinclair

Yes, and gets serious about it

He knows exactly how many refills you have, how many are in your bottles, how many milligrams, all of it

Only because he cares though

He will let you deal with it yourself, but he always makes sure to check at least once a day to see if you did

Whether it's shaking your bottle like a bag of cat treats or passing you a little note, he knows that it is important that you stay on them.

10/10 really nice about it, just wants you safe

Lester Sinclair

"If we gotta pay for 'em, you're takin' 'em"

I think that sums it up pretty well

5/10, never checks but gets upset about it

Bubba Sawyer

Not sure if he entirely understands

He would eventually come to the connection that days you take them are better than days that you do not,

If you explain it to him, he will definitely make sure to check in.

He would urge you to take them, but that's about it, it's more so just a thing in your busy lives.

3/10, you could get away with not taking them

Nubbins Sawyer

Let me hold your hand as I say this, he thinks that if you don't take them, you will die.

He just kind of has the connection that medicine = sickness, no matter how many times you try to explain it to him

He gets so scared

please don't do that to him

He will watch you take them please just take them sweetie

"Are you going to die-"

10/10 please he's shaking

Chop-Top Sawyer

He understands and does not give a shit whether you take them or not

He gets his own prescriptions from the VA hospital and Drayton keeps them locked up and regulated because he's convinced Chop would overdose or snort them,

not that Drayton cares, he just has too much going on.

"Shit, you don't wanna take 'em? Give 'em to me, I'll take 'em for ya, now we're both happy."

Don't do that

Drayton will know

1/10 will eat them like tic tacs for you

Drayton Sawyer

"Don't take 'em, I don't believe in that woke shit anyways."

Once he sees your doing worse though? He's singing a different tune

"Come on sugar, I'm already dealing with enough loonatics"

he didn't mean it that way I swear

He gets paranoid that you're gonna give them to Chop so he locks them up with his and you both go to him each morning and bat your eyelashes as he unlocks the cabinet and counts them out for you like an old man

8/10 you can't go wrong with it

Billy Lenz

Hell no

Bro doesn't even take his own medicine are you kidding?

He actively avoids his medicine, left them all at the facility

If you want to take them though, he could care less, but he also sort of urges you not to

he's a dick like that

Lowkey wants to get experimental with it

"h-how would B-Billy's p-piggy react if I m-mixed them with the others piggys pills?" meanwhile he's like drooling and shaking

hit him

don't let him poison you like that babe

I feel like though that he'd be a dick and when shaking Claude's treat bag he'd shake your bottle like they were treats

again hit him with a frying pan, you deserve better treatment then this

-5/10 I would lose my mind

Otis Driftwood

He doesn't believe in medicine unless he has a hangover or HE'S the sick one

Kind of like Drayton he wouldn't care if you didn't wanna take them unless you start causing him problems,

he wouldn't be as nice about it though

"You want me to shove them down your throat? Huh? That what you want? Didn't think so."

Just save yourself the trouble and take them

1/10 I would cry I think

Baby Firefly

Unpopular opinion, she'd get you to take them

I feel like if you're cool enough that she's noticing you not taking your meds? She cares about you. She's not just gonna let you ruin yourself

that's her job

"Hey sweetheart, got you this spoon of peanut butter, totally not anything suspicious."

sometimes you have to do what you have to do

She would trick you into it

"Well you ain't any fun if you're just... having a bad day."

7/10 her heart is in the right place

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher

They both would be pretty adamant about it

Billy gets all worried that this could somehow lead to them getting caught

Stu cares more about how it's affecting you

I feel like if they found out you weren't taking them, they'd have a sit down talk with you about it

Billy would make a schedule, he seems like a schedule guy

Stu would probably work in bribes or do what I like to do and chant "SHOT SHOT SHOT" with your chaser

10/10 pretty simple not much to write home about

RZ Michael Myers

he doesn't care

after all the different meds he was pumped with? He doesn't want that for you

he doesn't understand that they could help you

he 'loses' them for you

0/10 the worst, take your meds guys they aren't bad

Carrie White

she gets worried, poor thing

"If they weren't meant to help you, the doctors would not have given them to you."

will hold your hand through it

she doesn't really understand why you struggle with it, but she is supportive about it nonetheless

"medicine is here to help us :)"

11/10 I love her

Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham

you're in troubleeeee

Will freaks tf out

He just knows how beneficial medicine can be and this is very irrational to him

Hannibal being a literal psychiatrist isn't very pleased with you

he finds ways to like cook them into food or hide them

??/10 I didn't know really what to do with this one

Brahms Heelshire

He doesn't really understand why you're so against taking them

Isn't medicine here to help us?

He gets upset cause how are you supposed to take care of him if you're having a bad day?

8/10 picks up on it so fast

The Lost Boys

Will make you a vampire so you don't have to take meds

[silens-oro]

I have a toddler niece and her mannerisms are so cute, she's like in that stage where she's walking/not talking only sounds/wants independence, smiles and laughes and dang its so cuteeee to see her little personailty forming--she's a literal menace, soooo much energy.

SOooo with that how do Toddler Thalia and Pope interact?

I imagine she unintentionally does stuff (pulls out herbs he justttt planted) that gets on his nerves but he's very patient with her because he doesn't want to dim her inquistive nature. And they have rituals she needs to do --like she needs her daddy to do nightime bath time or she fusses. And she wants to have calm down time where she reads books to her dad --its just her pointing and garbling as he turns pages with their heads pressed together ...omg so cute

My nieces are teens now and I genuinely miss their toddler days because they were silly as hell.

Toddler Thalia knows every single button to push with Pope and she also knows exactly what she’s able to get away with. Hawk is the one who has to hold the line with it comes to discipline because Pope will fold like a lawn chair. It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when and Thalia knows that.

That’s not to say that Pope is a complete pushover for her. He does hold his ground when it comes to things that he knows she needs developmentally, but the stuff that ultimately doesn’t matter in the long run? He folds.

Neither of them are yelling type of parents, but they treat corrections very seriously because they are raising a future adult who needs to know right from wrong. They both got a taste of what’s to come from Lena, granted she was older than a toddler when she started living with them, but Pope transferred all of the routines he had with her over to Thalia (because in Lena’s words “I’m too old for bedtime stories, Uncle Pope.” It KILLED him when it happened. Hawk had to console him when he told her what happened. Hawk loathed to think of how he’d be when they eventually had an empty nest, but that was many years in the future.).

Pope is the type of parent to let her try and fail, or try and succeed, so she can learn. Hawk just wants to make sure Thalia doesnt hurt herself, but knows Pope is there to supervise. It’s the times she is out of sight that makes Hawk nervous because Thalia is FAST. They had to put a child safety lock on the door to the garage after she decided when wanted to work on mama’s plants and Pope did his best not to lose it and to get everything back in order before Hawk got home.

Hawk had her set routines with Thalia, and so did Pope. But when there was a crossover, Thalia did not like it at all.

“Me and daddy go. School.” She, in fact, did take Lena to school with Pope every morning. It was her favorite thing to do because that meant Pope would take her to the park for about an hour after so she could run off some of her energy so she’d be ready for her usual nap time.

“Not today, baby. You have a doctor’s appointment.” Then she’d give Hawk the Pope look (Hawk could NOT take it seriously but Thalia would get even more pissed off if Hawk so much as snickered in response so she had to keep it in) and wouldn’t say a peep until she saw her father later in the day, who had to explain to her that sometimes things didn’t happen the same way she’s used to and that she’d have to adjust because life happens. And Thalia would give him the look and it was like he was staring into a mirror.

Thalia, in mannerisms and in spirit, was very much a Cody.

[cheesybadgers]

I've been sitting with 8x16 these past few days and thinking about seasons 7/8 as a whole and how misdirection/fake-outs, red herrings and bait-and-switch have been recurring themes.

There was the whole of Buck, Bothered and Bewildered where Buck spent the episode desperately trying to get Eddie’s attention only to end up kissing Tommy but really, it was about Eddie the whole time. There was Kim, who appeared to Eddie to be a Shannon doppelgänger but obviously, she was wasn’t actually Shannon. There was the whole Hotshots storyline with the 119, AKA a fictional version of the 118 and a show within a show and Brad pretending to be a real firefighter. There was Eddie saying “I’m straight”, which appears to be leading (eventually anyway, if Tim Minear stops fucking around and causing havoc for 5 minutes) towards him realising that’s not in fact true. There was Buck posing as Freddie Fakeman in order to sublet Eddie’s house. There was Buck denying even the possibility he’s in love with Eddie, when everything else suggests he is in love with him. There was the policewoman who kidnapped Maddie and was a serial killer whilst also giving the appearance of investigating the murders when she was actually trying to set up someone else to take the blame for her crimes. There was Eddie lying to Chris and his parents about still being a firefighter when he was actually an Uber driver. Then there was the Bobby of it all, of course…

I've seen a lot of people say how pointless/overly prominent the plot with the mother and baby was in 8x16 if its only purpose was for Athena to come to terms with her grief and to face up to organising Bobby’s funeral. Which is why I feel like its purpose was more than that and the ‘mother thinks dead child is actually still alive but isn’t’ vs ‘everyone thinks Bobby’s dead but he’s actually alive’ theory is possibly correct. Because Athena wasn't in denial about Bobby's death per se; yes, she was dragging her heels on the funeral arrangements because a funeral would make his death feel more real, but she wasn't going around trying to convince anyone he wasn't actually dead like the mother of the baby was. It wasn't introduced into the narrative at all that she ever doubted he was dead; she was just having difficulty processing her grief and coming to terms with him leaving her to deal with it alone.

So, I think either that whole mother and baby storyline was for the benefit of in denial viewers (which would be extremely fucking cruel and callous when it was the show that actively encouraged people to believe and theorise there was a possible fake-out death in the first place, but admittedly, not out of the question where Tim Minear's pettiness is concerned), or it was foreshadowing and is eventually going to serve as a mirror to Bobby's casket being empty but unlike the baby, he's still alive somewhere in a government science lab (especially in light of Chimney having to chase them to release Bobby's body after two weeks of nothing). That was where I assumed the storyline was going throughout the episode, BUT...I did also think it would be awful pacing to introduce all of that in the same episode in which Bobby is also revealed to still be alive. Like, don't get me wrong, this whole charade has felt pretty damn pointless and contrived in any case, but that would be especially pointless lol.

I'm not trying to defend the writing here, because the execution has been terrible...and tbh it just proves the notion I already believed existed that ideas are not the hard part of writing. Contrary to popular belief, it's extremely easy to have ideas for what you want to do with a story (I constantly have a tonne of them roaming round my brain for my own WIPs), but it's how you convey and connect those ideas in a coherent narrative that's the hard part.

Of course, I could be completely wrong and all the theorising in the world can't necessarily save us from poor writing decisions and we may just have to come to terms with that by the end of season 8, but if you take the bigger picture into account, plus the whole Wrath of Khan parallel and everything that has been going on behind the scenes and in interviews etc., I don't personally see why you would discount the possibility of a fake-out death just because you've been told Bobby is dead, given the show has gone out of its way to misdirect the audience and/or characters in multiple plots across the last two seasons to the point where it's starting to feel a bit one-note that's it's the main storytelling device the writers keep falling back on.

This is obviously not meant with any disrespect to Ravi, but Eddie - an actual army veteran - going against direct orders from a US army Colonel to save his team, given a lot of his PTSD stems from not being able to save his team in Afghanistan, would have absolutely SLAPPED.

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

Idky but I feel like Alador never remembers his kids birthdays and when he does, he gives them an invention which is more to give free publicity to his work than anything meaningful or related to their interests

lmao yeah. like even after the show when he's tentatively making up with his family he just. doesn't realize that it's something they care about. or if he does he doesnt realize it's something that HE should care about because his kids care about it. i do think the ppl of the boiling isles wouldn't allow him within 100 ft of an abomination business for a while after the show bc of All That so if he does make an invention for his kids birthdays, it would just be stuff that HE's interested in. amity seems to be his favorite based on extrapolation from the show and she's already interested in abominations so maybe she'll get something she likes by coincidence but tough luck for the twins.

(i had a scrapped fic idea that involved a comical exchange between emira and alador, where emira points out that he still sucks as a father. em asks alador if he knows when her birthday is, and alador gets the date wrong by like two months. em then asks alador when her brother's birthday is, and when alador has to take a minute to think about it, emira reminds him that she and ed are twins before storming out of the room.)

[makotonaegiunderstander]

something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.

“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”

[astr-owl-ogist]

Stolas nodded along. "I've no problem signing a document like that, it's wise for you to protect yourself given our history, what I'm asking of you, and Blitz's impulsive nature. But I have no illusions about leaving a lesson from you without having learned several new ways pain can be felt. You're an expert, I'm a beginner. This is why I.M.P. refuses to help me improve, they don't want to hurt me."

The fallen prince kept his voice steady. This part was the dangerous bit but he didn't back off. "Most of my payment from Blitz is in room and board so I don't have money for more than my round trip ticket. My payment to you will be both you getting to regularly beat the shit out of a Goetian who keeps coming back for more, and in my being harder to kill."

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his steepled hands with narrowed eyes. "Before you dismiss that as valid payment, allow me to clearly lay out our mutual entanglement, hm? Thanks to that farce of a trial all of Hell knows you were hired to kill me. It is known you captured me with a blessed rope lasso. Since I escaped your clutches you clearly failed to kill me, even while helpless. Since your narrative was that Blitz wanted me dead? There was no one and no team to protect me so I must have escaped on my own ability and cunning. Meaning that even while helpless and kidnapped I was too much for you to handle. So. Imagine some other upstart little mercenary getting hired to finish the job, or perhaps just getting it in their head to give it a go for the justice or glory of it. After all, the great Striker couldn't handle me while I was tied up and bound by holy power."

"And what if they do succeed? Where do you think the Goetians will begin their search for my killer, to wreak vengeance upon? Even banished, I am from a royal house. I am slated to return to my title eventually. My death would cause the full wrath of House Paimon to descend upon the one already known to have been hired to kill me first. If you survive the torture and your little bar survives the blaze there will still be someone else out there claiming the kill. Some little pissant claiming to be better than you by fulfilling the mission you failed--killing the helpless Goetian you failed to."

He sat back up in his seat, arms widening as if to welcome an attempt on his life. "And, certainly, you could easily kill me yourself. Especially in this moment. As we established earlier no one knows I intended to come here, you could easily make me vanish. You could even find someone willing to pay you for it, I imagine you still have Stella's number. But my disappearance still means you'll be the number one suspect, the wrath of House Paimon still descends, and your quiet life disappears. Probably your entire existence and legacy. You just get a head start to pack and run away on your remarkably well-trained horse."

Slender arms folded over his chest. "The greatest service you can do for yourself is to teach me how to defend my own life. I'm not saying any of this with malice or mockery, Striker. I know you were only stopped from killing me once and had spared me the second time. But the truth doesn't matter in the face of already established public narrative. You need me to stay alive, and I'm offering the chance for you to help me do so."

Agreeing to the trial had bound Striker to whatever lies Andrealphus wanted established. No one would believe his denials of being involved if Stolas died. Reminding him of this would ensure not only did Striker not just use Stolas as a punching bag but actually help him improve.

Striker's expression didn't change during Stolas's speech about the reality of the situation, he wasn't keen on getting it on with them, he saw them as spoiled, even though they were not the main reason he hated royalty, everything he saw or heard about them was someone who lived a rich and spoiled life without responsability besides that book they needed to deal with the moon, besides that, nothing but having servants serve him.

The topic that changed his expression was the lessons they asked for, the ones to learn how to fight. His smile grew increasingly wider as he leaned in, head tilted down, one big eye staring at Stolas. The hands had frozen where they were, one on the back of the chair, the other in the air where they had pushed his hand to earlier. His smile appeared almost impossible with how many rows of fangs there were, as he'd have a glee unparalleled.

"Oh, I can help ya fight, make you faster, stronger, more.. tactical~." He'd linger on the word before leaning back up and pouring all of the wine from Stolas's glass into his maw, the imp's mouth shaped so it seemed like nothing as it disappeared past his lips. He'd walk around to his side of the desk again, the wine doing nothing to him, barely even a buzz as he'd sit down and stare at the fallen prince.

"I need a form of payment, a guarantee perhaps, anything worth well enough for you that I know after I do these lessons that I won't be having you flake on me and run back to your imps and spout fake claims… A contract, simple one… But don't think I will be going easy on ya, you'll have to either learn fast, or get used to leavin' all beat up cause you fall on your ass or can't dodge or block a punch."

He seemed eager to scare Stolas, hoping they'd lean back on that princely nature and wish not to do something that might be painful.

"But if you think you won't be able to handle it, then I can't fault you, being a prince for so long and gettin' everythin' handed to ya must make the real world so very stressful and full of hard work, right~?"

[lizardho]

Before I knew I was bisexual I was just insanely dramatic and weird around guys I liked. I had a crush on this guy in my ward - he was older than me, he played bagpipes and had a cheerful dog and an old Volkswagen bus that he worked on all the time. He also had nice scruff and unnaturally attractive hands and a good sense of humor, so I was like FULLY smitten.

I talked about him a lot and about how he was just so dang COOL, dang it, because he was so frickin’ cool. And I really liked him. I thought he was funny and smart and interesting and cool and fascinating and a bunch of other weird feelings I barely had the attention span to think about (I think my ADHD may have prevented me from coming out for a while tbh).

One day, I’m like 14-15, his dad is called to be my Sunday School teacher. His dad is this ex-military hardass with a chip on his shoulder for absolutely no reason and unattainable standards for his children. He spent most of Sunday School talking shit about his eldest boy and how he was rebellious and didn’t listen to him and how that was going to make him a bad adult and a bad son forever. How his son was too lazy and unmotivated to be successful because he didn’t listen to his advice on how to read the scriptures. He complained about how our generation was too weak to do things right and that our generation would surely be the one that brought the world’s downfall because of our laziness and sin.

And like, first of all, that guy can already go fuck himself for that. To clarify, that’s already stupid. BUT. He was talking about the man I had uncomfortable dreams about at least once a month. I couldn’t stand it. I’d get so mad I’d go home shaking sometimes because how fucking DARE he insult his hardworking stunning son by calling him lazy? For not reading the Bible the way his dad wants? When he’s already spending his time learning bagpipes? And fixing cars? And being cool? And cute? Who the fuck even cares if he uses the footnotes in the Book of Mormon? Who gives a rotten rat’s ass if he doesn’t use the scripture study manual his dad uses? He’s so cool he doesn’t even need it? So fuck off?

And eventually I got fucking Sick Of It and decided to mutiny. And by mutiny, I mean skip class. I’d just not go. And after a bit, adults started noticing and bugging me about it. At first, this was put off by small talk and excuses, but as my absence from Sunday School became more well-known, my excuses began to be rejected.

“Oh, Lizard, why aren’t you in class?” Uhm idk because my Sunday School teacher is mean to his kid and that makes me so mad wtf do you want from me? 🫠🤔

“Where’s your class, I’ll go with you!” Oh no ty I’d rather peel my own eyes than have my taste in men critiqued tyty 🩷

“Lizard, you should go to class, I’m sure they miss you!” And I miss the innocent days where my stomach didn’t hurt when a cool boy I knew was being belittled but unfortunately for us both those days are LONG gone and all that’s left is a budding psychosexual clusterfuck that will render me almost fully incapable of functioning for the better part of a decade so Bye Bye, sister Smith 🙂‍↕️

It had gotten to the point that ward leadership was involved. I was being approached by members of the Young Men’s presidency and the Bishopric to try and make me to back to class. They were telling me God had told them to find me and instruct me on my rebelliousness. This is where I implemented my secret weapon - women. Mormons are weird as hell about a lot of things, but especially about women. And I was GREAT with women. So to combat the leadership’s attention, I started helping women.

Our ward had a lot of new moms with babies who were, as babies tend to be, fussy. But for Mormon women the church is often their only social outlet, so they try to power through as long as they can even if it means enduring the exhausting ordeal of taking care of a fussy baby at church.

For what it’s worth, I have a lot of sway with babies. I got baby street cred. Me and babies have a rapport. I have always known this. I have always loved this. And in this crucial gay time in my faggot life my baby mind powers came in clutch - Every time I saw a member of the bishopric getting close, or a young men’s leader giving me side-eye, I’d start walking slowly towards class, passing by relief society. I’d wait until a mom’s baby had gotten too fussy and needed to leave the room, and I’d swoop in like a knight. “Oh, don’t you worry sister, I’ll bounce him a bit. You go back and hang out with your friends in class. You deserve a break.”

If it was a diaper change or something they’d tell me no. But if it was just some good old-fashioned baby fusses, I mean, they’d be moved almost to tears. They just got their social time back AND a free babysitter who is renowned as the Baby Whisperer. And because I was holding a baby as a favor for someone else, I of course could not reasonably be bothered to return to class.

So just like that, I was out of everyone’s sights. This went on for about a month before the straw that broke the camel’s back, which was that without my class participation the classes were quiet and awkward. I’d often take the brunt of Sunday school lectures by answering questions impulsively and over explaining myself enough that the clock could run out without anyone needing to do or say much. My absence meant everyone else was getting hit with the full unpleasantness of this guy’s bullshit. And so slowly, one-by-one, I had a group of about 8 kids on baby-holding duty. These new moms were so overjoyed, they and their husbands were both so actively in our corner that now chastising us was untenable. Now we had bargaining power. So the Bishopric approached us, confused beyond confused and uncomfortable beyond uncomfortable, and said,

“What’s it gonna take to get you back to class?”

The POWER I possessed in that moment was addictive. By being kind to the women of the ward and ignoring the Mormon de facto Rule of Law of following rules en-masse so the rule breakers feel left out, there were now so many people breaking ranks that we had effectively enacted a church boy labor strike. And they crumbled so fast it was almost like we had swayed God himself to our cause.

“I want brother assholedad gone. He sucks at teaching.”

I didn’t even have to say it. One of my rebels said it for me. I just nodded sagely and said “Yes, his class is not edifying. It’s better to not go and hold babies.”

And just like that, with a snap of my limp-wristed, Christ-wounding, bottom-brained fingers my faggot will was enacted. God’s revelation that brother shitdad was his chosen Sunday school teacher flipped on a dime. Suddenly brother shitdad was asked to be an usher and the fun dad of another one of my crushes was called in to teach us. I still stayed to hold babies a lot, but the rest of the class returned and all was well again.

Although I didn’t recognize it then, I think that was a formative moment for me in a lot of ways. I learned that being really persistently annoying will get me what I want from authority eventually. I learned that God’s will can be swayed by going in strike. I learned that ignoring men’s made up authority forces them to level with you as a person. I learned that caring for women, especially vulnerable women, can make a whole world happier. I learned that letting women rest can help them feel more love for the things that matter in their life. I learned that social bonds make everyone stronger and happier. And I learned that loving others in a gay way can change the world.

Be gayer. Read Terry Pratchett. I love y’all 💕

[autumnrory]

godddd i will just never get the appeal of bucky/sam to me it is the equivalent of putting like. jim and dwight in a romantic relationship which I’m sure a lot of people do but STILL at least there’s more substance there