#the more I realize that we always veered towards things she liked

[gentlelarkspur]

The best part about this breakup is that I can finally admit how much I hate Chainsaw Man. It’s mid tier AT BEST.

[fanficlolsblog]

WE NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE

back to my main masterlist

pairing: fem!reader x sabrina carpenter

summary: y/n is caught in a complicated relationship with singer sabrina carpenter, who picks her up for a late-night drive. despite knowing their connection often leads to heartbreak, y/n can’t resist sabrina's allure. they share a passionate encounter, but y/n realizes they're stuck in a cycle of returning to each other. after their intense moment, y/n chooses to leave, aware that they will likely reunite again despite the pain.

warnings: toxic relationship dynamic, emotional manipulation, jealousy and heartbreak, light suggestive themes, intense romantic situations, mature themes.

w/c: 1.5k+

The clock on my phone reads midnight when I see her car pull up. No headlights, just like always. It’s been a while since I’ve heard from her, but the second I see that familiar car in front of my house, it’s like no time has passed at all. The low hum of the engine fills the quiet street, and I feel that familiar pull in my chest.

Sabrina Carpenter.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I know exactly where it leads. It’s like we’re caught in this endless loop, spinning around each other with no clear destination in sight. But I can’t help it. Every time she shows up, I’m right back there—right back to her.

I grab my jacket, throw on some shoes, and slip out the door as quietly as I can, my heart pounding in my chest. My hands are shaking as I climb into the passenger seat, and the second I’m in, she looks at me with that James Dean daydream look in her eyes.

"Sabrina," I whisper, her name falling off my lips like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

She doesn’t say anything. Just smirks, her lips curling up at the corners as she pushes her foot on the gas. The car lurches forward, and we’re off into the night, the wind whipping past the open windows. There’s something intoxicating about the way she drives—reckless, dangerous, like she’s tempting fate. And I can’t help but feel the same.

It’s always like this with her. This wild, untamed energy that pulls me in no matter how much I try to resist. I should tell her to leave, to stop showing up like this, to stop playing with my heart. But I can’t. Because deep down, I know I’ll always say yes.

She glances over at me, her long hair slicked back, her white T-shirt glowing in the faint moonlight. "You’ve been quiet," she says, her voice low, barely audible over the sound of the engine.

"It’s been a while," I murmur, my hands clutching my lap. I’ve missed her more than I’d ever admit, and I can feel that weight in my chest growing heavier with every second we’re together.

"Yeah," she replies, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Like she hasn’t spent the last few months drifting in and out of my life, pulling me close only to push me away when things get too real.

We don’t talk much as she drives. The silence between us is thick with unsaid things, with all the questions I’m too scared to ask. And then, suddenly, she takes a sharp turn, and I feel my stomach lurch as the car veers down a narrow road.

The road stretches on, twisting and turning through the darkness, and I can feel the tension building between us with every mile. It’s like we’re heading toward something—something inevitable. And I know that when we get there, it’ll either be paradise or it’ll burn us both to the ground.

The car comes to a stop in front of her place, and she doesn’t waste any time. She gets out, tossing her keys into her bag before disappearing inside, leaving the door open for me. I hesitate for a moment, my mind racing. I shouldn’t go in. I should just turn around, walk away, and let this be the end.

But I don’t.

I follow her inside, the warmth of her place wrapping around me like a blanket. She tosses her coat aside and turns to face me, her eyes dark, intense.

"I heard you’ve been out with someone else," I blurt out, the words spilling from my mouth before I can stop them.

She doesn’t deny it. Instead, she smirks, shrugging like it’s nothing. "What you heard is true."

My chest tightens at her words, the sting of jealousy cutting deep. I knew it. I always knew she wasn’t mine. Not really. But hearing it out loud, it still hurts.

"But I can’t stop thinking about you," she continues, her voice soft, almost apologetic. "You and I… we’re different."

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "I’ve been there too, Sabrina. A few times."

She steps closer, her fingers brushing against my arm, sending a shiver down my spine. "So why are we still here?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

And that’s the question, isn’t it? Why do we keep doing this? Why do we keep coming back to each other, even when we know it’s bound to crash and burn?

Because it’s like a drug. She’s like a drug. And no matter how much it hurts, no matter how many times we tear each other apart, I can’t quit her.

She kisses me, and suddenly, all the questions, all the doubts—they disappear. It’s like everything that’s been building between us finally explodes, and all I can feel is her. Her hands gripping my waist, pulling me closer, her lips moving against mine with an urgency that makes my heart race.

She leads me to the couch, and before I know it, I’m beneath her, her body pressed against mine as her hands slide under my shirt. My breath hitches as her lips move down my neck, and I feel that familiar rush of adrenaline, the one that always comes with her.

It’s wild. It’s reckless. It’s exactly what I knew it would be.

And yet, I can’t get enough.

Her touch is electric, igniting every nerve in my body as she whispers my name against my skin, her voice low, filled with that familiar mix of desire and danger. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and she knows exactly how much I want it.

But this is how it always goes. We crash into each other, all heat and fire, and then we pull away, leaving nothing but ash in our wake.

When it’s over, we’re both breathing hard, tangled in each other, and I can feel the weight of everything pressing down on me. I know what comes next. She’ll pull away. She always does.

And yet, as I lie there, my head resting on her chest, I can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

"I don’t know why I keep doing this," I whisper, more to myself than to her.

She’s silent for a moment, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on my arm. "Because you know we never go out of style," she says, a small smile tugging at her lips.

I laugh, even though I don’t really feel like laughing. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

She shrugs, her smile fading as she looks at me, her expression suddenly serious. "You’re not like the others."

I raise an eyebrow, not sure if I believe her. "Really? Because it sure feels like I am."

"You’re not," she insists, sitting up and looking me in the eye. "It’s different with you. It always has been."

I don’t know if I believe her. I want to. God, I want to so badly. But every time we do this, it feels like it’s just another round of the same game.

"You don’t have to say that," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

She reaches out, cupping my face in her hands, forcing me to look at her. "I’m not saying it because I have to. I’m saying it because it’s true."

I close my eyes, leaning into her touch, trying to hold onto this moment for as long as I can. Because I know, deep down, that it won’t last. It never does.

But for now, I’ll take what I can get.

We sit there in silence for a while, the weight of everything hanging between us. Eventually, she pulls away, standing up and walking over to the window, staring out into the night.

"I wish I could give you more," she says softly, her voice filled with regret.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah. Me too."

She turns to face me, her eyes filled with something I can’t quite place. "But you know… we always come back."

I nod, because she’s right. We do. No matter how many times we crash, no matter how many times we burn, we always come back to each other.

And maybe that’s just how it’s meant to be.

"I should go," I say, standing up and grabbing my jacket.

She watches me, her expression unreadable. "You don’t have to."

I pause, my hand on the door handle, debating whether or not to stay. But I know how this ends. It always ends the same way.

"I do," I reply softly, giving her a small, sad smile.

She doesn’t try to stop me, and I don’t expect her to. As I step out into the cool night air, I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

It’s over. For now, at least.

But as I walk down the street, her words echo in my mind.

We always come back.

And I know, deep down, that it’s only a matter of time before we crash again.

[iammissingautumn]

(@seregashockingly I’m gonna drop my general Style stuff relating to ur ask and reply to my post here since i wanna explain more Kyle Feelings moments)

Okay so the thing is, Stan encourages this codependent ideas in their relationships. From early one when he says Kyle can’t die without him we see that he has this insane view of their relationship. They both kinda do. The thing is, as all things go Stan is the more emotional of the two. Meanwhile Kyle had to figure out how he’s felt about most things pretty young, and with a lot of simplicity. That’s what allows him to be so okay with defending those who need it, he has strong morals that he trusts.

The thing about Stan encouraging codependent ideas towards them is that he’s also the one who has a girlfriend. And Stan is so bad at processing emotions that he throws up every time he’s faced with these feelings. Stan also has outside pressures like that of his father’s to conform (mostly specifically to the idea of being a man and what that “means”). Which Randy does in a lot of diffferent ways, I.E. Stanley’s Cup.

Though one of the main things about Stan is that the adults are being insane wackos and he thinks they’re being stupid. And he’s right but we see these kind of things leaving an imprint on him. His superhero persona is someone who works with tools, more “traditional” ideas of manhood relate to being able to upkeep the house car etc. He has rip sleeves and tries to seem tough but it’s very hard when his dad is keying their own car. On top of this, his SOT character is a knight meant to protect the king. Knights often have to be sworn in, seen to be risking their life in the name of being a protector. Which, including how he presents, the idea of a protector is also a very “masculine” “tradition”.

Yet, we don’t see this come in through other ways. He’s not toxic masculinity-ing his life. He doesn’t dedicate his days to playing every sport ever, physically fighting, or trying to prove his strength. He doesn’t have that insecurity that is more apparent in someone like Cartman. But there’s tinges of small things, and I do think most of his compensation and possible shame or complexes comes back to his sexuality.

Meanwhile, Kyle is confident in his religion, his self expression, and his personality. Sometimes we see this swayed (I.e. Passion of the Jew and South Park is Gay!), but I think his relationship to Judaism really helped him be able to have the confidence to be okay with other parts of himself. Especially since he has the support of his mother being such a big force in his life to encourage him to be himself. And though Shelia has her own problems she definitely shows Kyle she loves him for himself and wants him to be that person. (The crux of both of them is that they don’t want to veer into being “bad” and need to stay good. In the movie we see her thinking foul mouth tv shows are the “bad” thing. She’s always been particularly accepting despite the sometimes black and white thinking.)

So from this I picture the standard Style idea is that, in some sort of way Stan is repressing his queerness. This probably doesn’t help with the fact he has had depression and has an addictive personality. He can bury his queerness under all of this. But we see within him there’s this want or maybe a need to go towards those who don’t conform. As we see when he adopts the Raven personality for the point in time where he’s goth.

But there’s this level where Stan’s been how he’s always been. Loving his best friend, and them not shying from it. He thinks this is how you should see your best friend, both him and Kyle think this. The thing is at some point Kyle figures out This Isn’t Everyone’s Relationship To Their Best Friend. Which is probably a middle or high school realization that turns into a very changing thing. And I think whether Kyle assumes that Stan doesn’t like him because of something like his reputation with relationships in the past Nichole, Heidi, Rebecca, or The List situation which is just. hurtful even after the truth comes out.

Insert Stan doing something dumb, a drunk confession, a kiss, he throws up, some sort of blatant obvious “Stan’s In Love” marker that changes Kyle’s mind. Stan’s in denial about it (perhaps leads Kyle on 👀) and it causes some pains that they later have to unpack. And maybe that means they kiss or smth none of my business. Maybe this involves Kyle helping Stan sober up, maybe it involves Stan cleaning up and calling Kyle trying to reconnect, maybe this involves Stan realizing he’s so fucking stupid and in love with his best friend and he should have realized sooner because now they’re separating because they’re graduating or something. Or maybe they’re in middle school and Kyle tells Stan to stop talking to him because he’s being mean about his feelings. Or maybe Kyle just silently isolates himself from Stan. There’s a lot of loose spots so the story can change depending on the point in their lives or the story being wished to be told. But that’s the general classic idea for me.

[buddiebeginz]

I’ve seen multiple posts about how fandom is the only one who sees Buddie happening and how if they did get together or even if one of them “all of a sudden” admitted to having feelings for the other the general audience wouldn’t accept it or understand where it was coming from. I get what some of you are saying in these posts but at the same time I don't think seeing two characters (who already have one of the strongest bonds on the show) admit they have even stronger feelings for one another would be that much of a leap.

There's also the fact that 911 is almost heading into it's seventh season at this point. This isn't the first, second, or even third season. 911 doesn't have to worry that if it veers off into a new direction it will loose a significant amount of it's audience. The majority of people watching the show have likely been long time viewers they're not going to just tune out because one relationship happens.

Speaking of the 911 audience it's obvious that most if not all the people who watch the show are lgbtq friendly to some extent, considering the show has a main character who's gay (Hen) and has always had lgbtq content of some kind. So I mean why would people watch the show if they were anti lgbtq? My point is even if people didn't like the idea of Buck and Eddie together or it was surprising at first to them it wouldn't be like if it happened on a show without no lgbtq content where the audience might be more conservative and not expecting it at all.

I feel like people over think things with Buck and Eddie sometimes because of them being a same sex ship. If this was a straight ship I think people would be expecting them to get together especially the general audience. People would be wondering why it hasn't happened yet just like we are in fandom.

Just because Buck and Eddie haven't dated men on screen or talked about their sexuality doesn't mean their romance needs this long build up with everything spelled out for the audience. They've been building up their relationship for six seasons now. I don't think it would be so shocking for the general audience for one of them to have their oh moment or admit they like guys or for them to kiss. Some might not be expecting it at first but when it happens and they think back on all those moments through out the course of the show they'll probably be like oh I was wondering why Buck and Eddie we're always spending time together, or why Buck didn't correct that elf when she thought Chris was his son, or why Buck broke down sobbing when he thought Eddie almost died, etc etc. And Buck and Eddie's story would make more sense as it was always leading towards them realizing their person was right there in front of them all along.

This ramble doesn't have a huge point I'm just tired of seeing people say that Buck and Eddie can't get together yet or the show wouldn't put them together yet because not enough has been done to develop them past just being friends. There's definitely more than just friendship there it's not just us as fans being delusional. I say it all the time but compare their relationship to the friendship of anyone else on the show and it's not the same. Buck and Eddie and Chris are already a family. All the show has to do is let Buck and Eddie cross that line and actually admit that's what's been going on.

[lindwyvrm]

“QUEEN IVY! QUEEN IVY!!!” Kagetsu’s shouting causes a few people to cover their ears as he sprints past them down the hall, but he doesn’t notice. He’s too focused on getting over to Ivy to notice anything else at all. Tunnel vision is a powerful thing.

“There you are, Queen Ivy! I have found you at last!” He nearly reaches out to grab her arm once he’s close enough, just to get her attention in his excitement (and perhaps prevent her from walking away in the event she’s upset with him for leaving her side for a time), but he’s able to hold himself back. He doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries, even if he is overjoyed to see her again. 

He may have left Elusia without her, but he’s still always considered himself as ‘Retainer to Princess Ivy’ (even if the ‘Princess’ part may now be inaccurate) first and foremost. Before even the new occupation of ‘Sword Instructor’ he has now instead, the one he’s meant to prioritize. “…I am deeply sorry to have left you and my responsibilities as your retainer behind, Queen Ivy. I swear, I had always intended to return.”

He says it, and he means it, but he doesn’t know if she’d believe it. He doesn’t know if he’d believe that. He doesn’t have the best track record of returning to places he left, after all. He can only hope it’s taken as the truth he wants it to be.

“But, now you are here, and I am here, too! So there is no issue! What house have you aligned yourself with? I will have my office moved nearby at once!“ Something he thinks he’s technically not allowed to do, but who cares. Ivy > Rules.

Ivy hears him before she sees him — as typical of bold, enthusiastic Kagetsu. He is practically shoving his way down the hallway to get to her, skidding to a stop just an arm’s length away. His shoulder tenses — she sees the brief flash of consideration in his eyes — before he relaxes and drops his arm. 

“Kagetsu,” she greets, smiling — his joy is infectious. She relishes in the familiar feeling of turning and seeing him by her side. The loyalty of her retainers is never forgotten, and the nervousness of being on foreign soil is already greatly alleviated by his presence. “It is good to see you, my friend. I thought I had seen your name on the staff directory, but I almost couldn’t believe it…”

Indeed, the image of Kagetsu standing at a chalkboard and giving a lecture to a troupe of attentive pupils is nearly enough to make her laugh aloud, though she suspects his instruction veered more towards the practical than the theoretical. She could only imagine what his teaching sounded like — she thinks he must be popular amongst the student populace.

Ivy raises her eyebrows at his apology. “There is nothing to be sorry for, Kagetsu. If you wanted to see the world, who am I to stop you? It’d be like caging a bird of prey. …and you’d always have a place in Elusia, if you truly wished to return.”

Kagetsu means every word he says, every syllable earnest and sincere. It had taken Ivy quite a while to realize this; but it had been as she said: she has no doubt that he’d want to return, but he is like the far-reaching wind. Of course she wanted him to return, but she could not clip his wings and force him to stay if his feet desired to wander.

His enthusiasm returns within the next heartbeat, sunlight bursting through thin gray clouds. He is right. The issue would arise eventually, but they have this moment — and plausibly many more in front of them. 

“I chose the Black Eagles — I have no penchant for axe-wielding, but the school of Reason had always fallen well within my expertise. Move your office? I’m not sure how the administration will take such a notion… Such a request will certainly take a great deal of deliberation. Why don’t we get something to eat in the meantime? I’m sure you have accrued a great number of stories. I’d like to hear them — I do miss hearing your tales.”

[theliterarywolf]

People who race-flip characters to black always and I mean ALWAYS forget fucking braiding. I don't think I need to explain it, I suck at hair jargon. What about beads? Patterns? Do Hollywood people just look at black people and think "if we make them too creative with their hair people might not realize they're supposed to be black?" Or is it some anti-individualism thing, because how dare you be creative with hairstyles?

So, it's a layered conversation but to explain it in a condensed manner:

There's a growing portion of the black and African communities who feel that black and African women shouldn't rely so much on chemical products (relaxers, dyes, activators), extensions or wigs because of the notion that they're trying to reinforce white beauty standards.

This would be fine and understandable if the conversation was aimed more towards encouraging black and African girls to be more free and comfortable with their fros or curly hair as well as calling out schools and businesses who have blatant double-standards when it comes to 'acceptable hairstyles'. However, it has veered into 'don't add anything to your hair whatsoever; keep it as natural as possible'. Which includes things like braiding hair, curly/kinky extensions, or dyes.

And it is that same conversation that lazy/unimaginative mainstream studios keep hiding behind. Because my hair? Naturally jet-black and thick beyond reason. However, I currently have curly black and blue extensions in it because I just so happen to like them! Also, I don't have time to spend three hours combing out the Schwarzwald that is my hair every morning.

Hell, I remember one evening from when my mother and I had bought a house with the guy she thought she was going to marry. She was helping me with my hair (which was going to be crochet-style braids), and in comes this dipshit. He looks at us and then scoffs, "I don't understand why black women give so much money to the Chinese* when they can just wear their natural hair."

*This, of course, being in reference to the sheer amount of black hair products that are manufactured and formulated in China

[raayllum]

While I think the show could easily make a plot line where Callum leaves to try and protect his loved ones work quite well characterization wise (although I do lean towards it either not happening or not lasting for more than an episode or two, but who knows), I think said plot line wouldn’t actually bring about the conclusion people have typically had in mind for it.

1) Rayla leaving was a trauma response. It wasn’t a good decision and it wasn’t a healthy decision. The crew has gone on record several times that it was a form of self-punishment for ‘failing,’ how it plays into her martyr/saviour complex, and that it was brought on partially by tortured dreams. If Callum leaves in S5, then, it will also be a trauma response. Not the right thing to do (and I’m sure if he does he’ll get in deep narrative shit for it in some capacity, unless Rayla stops him), but an understandable thing to do.

2) Callum always understood why Rayla left. This is more opinion based, but I think we see it clearly in TTM (he wanted to go with her, he got why it mattered to her so much) and he also knows Rayla loves him. Rayla being a hero and protecting others (even protecting him) is one of the things he loves most about her: “She does what’s right even when it puts her own life at risk [...] That’s what makes her a hero. That’s what makes her Rayla.” His big issue was that he felt abandoned by her because she didn’t let him go with her. In S4, then, he’s making this behavioural pattern she has about him, even when it existed long before him (and has existed long after). In 4x09 with his, “I know,” he’s accepting that this is outside of his control. He does understand where it comes from, to a degree. He’ll just never entirely like it (or want this to be her path). 

3) Possible repetition in Callum being brought, physically and emotionally back from the Brink, in a space he’s cognizant of. Like Callum being tempted or forced to join Team Bad Guy, this could also veer into similar territory of being too similar to breaking him free of brainwashing, if/when the show takes that direction as well. Now, TDP loves its repetition amid escalated stakes, so it’s not out of the realm of possibility, but it will mean either Rayla or someone else trying to talk him down twice, if not three times (aka he has to eventually be able to throw off the brainwashing, soo). 

4) What conclusion does it actually leave us with? Presented in this capacity, Callum leaving would mostly fuel Rayla’s character arc, not necessarily his own. Callum does not need to leave to understand why Rayla did; and as stated before, no amount of understanding is going to make that the right thing to do. The lesson that needs to be learned is for Rayla to realize that this pattern and cycle is Not It, even if it’s what she’s seen in her family, and to acknowledge how much she hurt Callum in doing so, yes, but also that she hurt herself. While Callum leaving would make Rayla realize how much it fucking sucks, perhaps, in full, it would still give her a deeper understanding of either 1) Callum’s pain or 2) her own pain by proxy of seeing someone else repeat her self-destructive patterns. Her choosing to break this pattern because of seeing Callum playing it out, and both of them finding healing together could be very cathartic, but it would still ultimately be (as far as I see it for now) a Rayla centric arc. Which I’m not against whatsoever, but I see this plot beat framed as a Callum centric moment, and I just really don’t think it exactly will be, if it goes this way.

[valyalyon]

1 Harvest Whispers

Previous Post | Next Post SEA MASTER LIST OR #LYONSEA DIVIDERS

CW: Police officer character, smut, p in v, unprotected intercourse, explicit language, descriptions of sex, cheating. MDNI. 4.1K Words.

Star walked for hours that night and eventually felt lost, uncertain of where she was or really where she had even come from. As she started taking into account her surroundings, it quickly became clear to her that she was on a large ranch or a farm of some kind.

She could see rows of crops, and realized that she was walking in a dirt path separating the crops from even more crops. It was so dark, dim lights seemingly lighting up the perimeter of the dirt path and the crops.

Star felt so stupid, getting lost on somebody’s property. She didn’t realize it, but she was close to a property road, that would lead to the gate. At the same time that she was wandering through the field, the owner of the property was getting home from work.

He always patrolled his property after work, no matter how late, so when he closed the gate behind him at 1am, he quickly set out to inspect all hundred acres.

He drove his truck slowly with the windows rolled down, and veered into several small service roads to check crop and livestock, before continuing to the next.

As he pulled into this service road, he noticed someone at the end of the road, walking down towards the pick up truck. He squinted, then put up the high beams. Standing there was that girl from earlier in downtown Sunwoods.

Star covered her eyes as the headlights lit her up, but they quickly went back to normal. She couldn’t help but feel stupid because she continued walking up to the truck.

A part of her wondered when she lost all self preservation, another part reminded her she had a knife in her back pocket. If she was going down, it’d be swinging.

Regardless, she put herself in harms way most of the time.

The truck door opened and a tall man hopped out. The man was tall, at least six foot, and very muscular. In the dim lights, it was hard to make out much of his features, but Star kept getting closer.

There was so much darkness behind her, she was feeling overwhelmed. Even if it was a trap, the headlights of his truck made her feel safer than the darkness she’d always lived in, “Sir, I’m really sorry.”

She started, as she got closer, “I don’t know how I got here, I just kept walking and…”

Her voice was shaky, but she kept her eyes on him as she got closer. Still too dark, but the man looked to be in his thirties with dark hair and a beard.

“That’s okay, ma’am. Do you have any weapons on you?” His voice sounded familiar, and she got close enough to see him better, stopping right outside the headlights range.

“No, sir,” she looked up at him through the distance.

The grays in his dark hair, those dark green eyes, that bomber jacket and his familiar cowboy hat. It was the same older officer from earlier.

She didn’t know he was the chief of police, or that he was the wealthiest man in the region. She didn’t know a lot of things about him, and wouldn’t find everything out until long after he was gone.

“You don’t know how you got here? Did that guy bother you again?” The man asked her, he started to approach her but slowly.

“No, I left the where we were and kept walking, after one neighborhood my brain just goes dark. It was like I blinked and got here, but I know I walked, because I was in the middle of walking when I came back,” she tried explaining herself.

“Alright, well… I’m definitely surprised seeing you here, that’s for sure,” the officer sighed, he looked at her for a second, verifying she didn’t have any weapon visible, then met her eyes.

Her bright green eyes were almost snake like, except the woman had a very bunny-like quality to her, so the man couldn’t help but believe her.

“I’m glad you’re not roaming the streets in a fog anymore, though. It’s good you ended up here because you were at least safe from getting run over in a neighborhood,” he added, tearing his eyes away and clearing his throat.

Star felt so… good? She couldn’t explain it. She felt safe for a second with him. Her eyes scanned his face in the lights of his car. He had a wrinkle or two, so many grays, and that beautiful smile.

His jaw line was sharp, his beard covering it well. Star found him so hot every time she saw him, and the way he cleared his throat…

“I’m really sorry, Sir,” Star held her hands together in front of her, her eyes searching for his. He was avoiding her eyes…

She felt like she had felt with Lazarus. Young, dumb, in love, searching for his eyes in a fight to alleviate the tension.

The older man didn’t avoid for long though, his eyes fell back on hers, and his hand stretched out towards her, “I’m Jasper Conrad. What’s your name?”

She honestly hadn’t expected him to look at her, but when his dark green eyes met hers, her heart skipped in her chest. She dropped her eyes towards his hand, and gave her hand to him.

“My name is Star Bennett,” she told him, the two names were the only ones she could remember when thinking about her own name since she came to on that ranch.

Her hand was so much smaller in Jasper’s hand, and he pulled the hand up to his lips where he pressed a kiss to it. His lips were gentle, but the kiss was firm, and they didn’t break eye contact.

“Star,” he said the name, “nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Conrad,” Star wondered what she was doing, what she had gotten herself into.

He easily let go of her hand, and turned back to the truck, “I’ll take you to the guest house so you can get comfortable for the night, you can leave in the morning if you’re ready or stay a day if you need more rest.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” she told him.

“Sure, listen… Can I pat you down? If you don’t want me to, I’ll need to cuff you until we get to the guest house and I’ll have somebody pat you down once we arrive. It’s for safety,” Jasper tried to explain himself.

“Uhm… yeah, you can pat me down,” Star nodded her head, and looked up at him, “do you want me to stand anywhere?”

“Yeah, up against my truck, please,” Jasper led her over.

She leaned against the truck as he patted her down. He was doing a good job of not being too grabby, then he pulled her off the truck lightly and felt the front of her body for any weapons.

Star held her breath, and sure enough he found her knife hidden in her waistband. She stared up at him, they were so close when he found it, “I had it because I was walking alone at night…”

His body was still close to hers, and as he was putting the closed knife on the roof of the truck, he pressed closer to her.

“It’s okay, I just can’t have any weapons running around freely on my property. Everything will be locked up. Since these are yours, I’ll leave them in the truck and I’ll make sure you have them when you leave.”

He continued searching along her waistband, not trying to be invasive, but checking. The way his fingers felt made her skin tremble, though, and she let out a breath, “Jasper… That was the only one I had…”

His eyes turned back to hers, her green eyes were aroused, her face turning up to his as he spoke “Are you sure?”

He turned his eyes back down and finished checking her front waistband, the entire time Star trembled to his touch.

She was entranced by his hard-working nature, but he was kind. She could tell that in his soul he was kind. Despite that, though, she was also very attracted to him.

He finished his scan very quickly, efficiently and not invading too much of her space. He eventually stepped aside, and took the knife into his pocket, “I’ll put it in the glovebox once we’re inside the truck.”

She got off the truck as he went and opened the passenger door, standing to the side. He held his hand out to Star, “come on, Miss Bennett…”

Star walked up to him and took his hand. Jasper helped her up into the truck, the truck was lifted and she was pretty small. He was happy to help her though, even when she said, “Jasper, be careful. Don’t hurt yourself to help me up.”

“Damn, you think I’m 90 or something?” The man asked, laughing. Then adding, “make sure you buckle in most of the main road is bumpy.”

Star buckled herself in like he asked as he closed the door. The slam scared her, and the man hopped in the car, again slamming the door. She just about jumped out of her skin.

Her eyes turned to him and he took out a cigar from the glove box, replacing it with the knife, and closing the glove box again, “sorry to be all over your body like that, both just now for my cigar and earlier with the pat down.”

She shook her head and met his eyes as he started to light up his cigar, “I lied about the weapon, sir, that was my fault… I don’t want to upset you.”

His windows were rolled down, and he smoked with his head out the window for a second. He got back in the car and put his seat belt on, holding the cigar out the window in his hand.

He only smoked if he was nervous, and this gorgeous girl had him nervous that was for sure. Being on top of her during the pat down was a total mind fuck, he stayed in Police Chief mode and tried not to blend the worlds but…

With her it was so easy to do that.

He started the car, and spoke, “You didn’t upset me, Miss Bennett, not one bit. Probably the opposite, unfortunately.”

Jasper looked behind him as he backed up the car, and she was able to see another angle of his handsome face, “what does that mean, Mister Conrad?” Her eyes traced along his beard and up to his hair, back down to his throat.

“You excite me, girl… you were warmer than a volcano,” he commented, and reversed the car out of the service road and onto the ranch’s main roadway.

“You don’t mean that,” Star responded, her eyes turning to see where they were driving. She was now more interested in the road.

She took off her jacket again, the purple sweater she wore was thin and pressed to her skin, showing off her braless nipples in the dim light of the main roadway.

The seatbelt sat on either side of her breasts, and they moved as he drove along, her eyes danced along the endless fields. He lived on a huge property, “are you just a police officer?”

“I’m the Sunwoods Chief of Police but this is my family ranch. It’s over a hundred acres, and it’s named the Conrad Sons Ranch,” Jasper explained, taking a hit of cigar as he tried to ignore her beauty.

After he blew his smoke out the window, he turned his undivided attention on the road. Well, not undivided. In his peripheral vision, he could see Star’s breasts continuing to move.

“You scared me when you slammed the doors shut, Chief Jasper,” she spoke, her eyes still following the dark hills she could make out in the distance of his property.

Jasper glanced over at her and then nodded his head, “sorry about that. I won’t slam the doors next time. I just do it because they’re old doors and they’re just hard to close. Swear, I wasn’t mad at you.”

“Promise?” Star asked him, turning her head to face him but he was staring at the road. He turned his head for a second and nodded, then turned back to the road.

“How could I ever be mad at you?” He asked her in return, as they came up to the end of the main road.

The house came into view and it was massive, easily having 10+ rooms and spanning thousands of square feet.

Jasper drove around to a second, smaller house. The smaller home was behind a giant pool in the backyard of the main house, and had its own backyard. parked in the backyard of the smaller house.

He got out of his car and came to get Star out, walking her to the house and unlocking it for her, “let me show you around…”

As she watched him walking around the house, she was just stunned by him. He was so energetic, and his eyes were full of life. He had a traveler’s spirit and he was the type of man Star just loved.

She was mesmerized by him. He led her lastly to the master bedroom of the guest house, “you can stay here if you choose to, there’s two other rooms but this will be your most comfortable one.”

“Thank you,” she said, stepping into the room and then turning to look at him as he stood in the door frame.

He smiled at her, his arms crossed, and then he laughed, rubbing his neck, “sorry you want me gone, you’re probably real tired. I’ll get out of your hair…”

Star bit her lip, “what if I don’t want you to leave me?”

She was sitting there at the foot of the bed now, and took off her sweater, sitting there with her tits out, reaching down to take off her pants.

“Well, I’ll stay, you’ll be the one that has to tell me when it’s time to go,” he commented, and his eyes were shamelessly on her body.

As her pants came off, she sat up and looked up at Jasper. Her panties hugged her pussy so well. She looked like a piece of fine art to the man.

She tilted her head, looking into his eyes, “do you hate this?”

“I hate that I’m not the one removing the clothes,” he responded, and got off the door frame, approaching Star and grabbing her face once close to her.

She accepted his mouth happily, their kisses wet and hot, their mouths parting happily to share their tongues with the other. Her hands reached out and touched Jasper, feeling his bulging muscles.

His hands gripped her waist and then one moved up to her breasts. He leaned down a bit, squeezed her tits together and pressed his face into them.

Star moaned and ran her fingers through his dark-graying hair as he moved down and started to take off her panties. He laid her down on her back and then went in between her legs to eat her out.

As his tongue swirled along her clit, as his fingers started to thrust in and out her, as her moans started to fill the air, she took his left hand in hers… and felt a ring on his finger.

She gasped, opening her eyes and looking at the wedding band on his hand, she loosened her grip on his hair, but his assault into her pussy didn’t stop, “Umm… mm… you’re married?”

“Yes, girl,” he said, sucking on her clit immediately after. Then he turned his attention up to her, his eyes hungry, “don’t let something like that stop you from enjoying yourself, Star… Forget about it, and let’s have fun.”

She wanted to protest, but the way his eyes looked at her… Her stomach filled with butterflies, she couldn’t help herself… this man looked like an older Lazarus, this man…

Her head leaned back as his three thrusting fingers intensified, and then he pulled out, sitting up on the bed and taking his work pants off.

In front of Star’s face was ten solid inches, throbbing. Her mouth opened mindlessly, she took him into her throat, as his head leaned back and he groaned, “that’s a good girl… A brave girl, not scared of such a big cock… you think you can take me in your little pussy?”

His fingers wrapped in her hair, and she nodded her head, slurping on his cock and covering it in her spit. Somehow knowing he was married was only making her want to fuck him more.

Finally, he pulled out of her mouth, and went down to her pussy, where he started by pressing his tip to her tight entrance, “that’s a tiny pussy, come on, do you really think you can take it?”

Star wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes all doe-eyed and sweet, green and intoxicated by lust, “I want you… I can do it for you, daddy, I’ll do anything.”

He chuckled and they kissed again, as he held her legs and pushed himself steadily into her.

His strokes were going so deep, as Star was dissolving into moans. She tightened her grip around him as he put more weight and pressure onto her.

Star felt him fill her to up to her cervix, she bit back moans and cries, digging her nails into his back. He gave her a good pounding, and her legs wrapped around his waist.

She kissed him with an open mouth, and he kissed her back in the same way.

“Fuck, you’re just what I needed,” Jasper mumbled, suddenly sitting down and pulling her on top of him into a straddle.

He made out with her as he slid her down on his cock again, “your ass is huge, Star…”

“Fuck, this feelings so good, Jasper,” her body was shaking as she felt his cock hit her in just the right spot, “fuuuckk…”

“Cum on, baby, cum on my cock, good girl,” he muttered, grabbing her hair and tightening his grip around her.

“Fuck!” Star exclaimed, cumming all over his cock, white cream leaking out of the girl and covering Jasper’s throbbing cock.

He lifted her up and down along his cock, watching the cream spread everywhere, “look at what you’ve done, you whore…”

“That’s mean,” she moaned, riding his dick happily as her tits bounced with her.

“I’ll be as mean as I want, aren’t you the guest? Aren’t you the one wrecking my home?” He asked, and smacked her ass real hard, dropping her back on his cock.

He met her with harder thrusts, shaking her and making her moan louder.

Her back twitched and her toes curled, she came again, adding more hot cream to his cock. Jasper chuckled and grabbed her by the neck, “am I cumming in your little pussy?”

“Yes, please,” Star begged, her tongue out for another wet kiss that he happily gave her, and then she panted and moaned, “I want to feel your cum inside me.”

“Good, girl,” he said hotly, grabbing her by the hair and pulling it back, thrusting harder up into her, “you like feeling me in your guts?”

“I love it,” she told him, moaning and twitching along his cock. This was so good, it was unreal.

“Fuck, take it,” he said, as he dragged her down and shoved his cock all the way into her, his nut exploding up into her, “that’s what you wanted, yeah? Take it, homewrecker, take it…”

He grabbed her tits and sucked on them, continuing to thrust as deep as possible as his cock erupted with the final drops of semen.

Star felt like she was full, her stomach was so warm from it. She stared up at Jasper with wide doll eyes, reaching to kiss him, “you came so much… I feel like I’m overflowing.”

Jasper gave her another three or four rapid thrusts, and then pulled out, lifting her to take her to the bathroom, “you definitely are. You’re beautiful… Can I call you Ember?”

She had never been asked before to be named, she thought by this point it was something the men just gave to her.

Realizing she had the opportunity to reject the name, she thought it over, but ultimately nodded, “Ember is really pretty, but my name is Star, don’t only call me Ember…”

“I’ll use both,” he promised, and sat her down on the toilet, “you pee first, I don’t want you getting a UTI after sex.”

As she peed, the girl thought about what she had done, and wondered so much more about the man, and his life.

Star looked up at him, he was standing close to her so she was able to see the definition and firmness of his muscles and body. Her eyes ran up to his face, where his smile stopped her again.

“What’s on your mind, Ember?” he asked, his voice so charming and smooth, with a thick country accent.

She looked up into his forest eyes, and they were looking at her sweetly, “I was thinking about asking you your age… I’m turning 20 this year in August.”

He chuckled, “bit of a gap. My birthday is January 7, 1959… so, I’m turning 60 tomorrow.”

“So today is January 6…” Star commented, cleaning herself before she got off the toilet, “I thought I got lost for longer, that’s good. What are you going to do for your birthday?”

“Oh, I never do anything,” he moved in front of the toilet and lifted the seat, he aimed his dick and started peeing, “I don’t celebrate my birthday, too busy.”

“Well, that’s no fun… We should do something, anyway,” she told him, but then paused, adding, “about your wife… I know it’s a little too far gone, but I don’t want to be a side chick.”

“How about you make a decision after you’ve met my wife?” Jasper said as he finished peeing, cleaning his tip off.

Star hesitated, “won’t she be mad? I don’t want to cause a fight.”

Jasper laughed and shook his head, “no, there won’t be a fight. You’ll meet her in the morning, she’s asleep right now.”

“Okay, if you say so,” and Star looked up at Jasper, then tore her eyes away and turned to open the bathroom door.

He followed her back into the room, where she started to slip back into her panties, trying to catch more cum as it leaked out.

His eyes watched her body as she did that, and then he took his eyes off her, “I should go.”

“Sleep here with me,” Star said softly, getting on the bed, and looking at him as she got under the blanket.

“Oh but just a second ago you were worried about my wife?” Jasper asked, though he grabbed his boxers as he walked towards the bed.

She watched him as he approached the bed, “I haven’t been alone inside a big home in such a long time,” she admitted timidly, watching him put his boxers on.

“You’re scared… I’ll hold you, don’t worry about a thing,” Jasper whispered, trying to calm her — she wondered how he knew that her heart was racing.

He got into bed beside her, and he pulled her in close. His arms were so strong, the pressure he put when he held her made her feel instantly comfortable, but at the same time she still felt how hard he was against her back.

“We won’t… Do anything again until I find out if your wife is okay with it… Don’t…” she covered her mouth at the last second, feeling a moan escaping her lips.

He sighed into her neck, burying his face into her hair, holding her in his arms. She didn’t try to pull away from him, he was so strong and she enjoyed the way he felt against her, but she did whisper, “we shouldn’t…”

There was a kiss, their two open mouths needing one another. Then a mutter from Jasper, “when you need something, Ember, its important you get it…”

The two enjoyed themselves again, before submitting to sleep.

ngl I have always loved Jasper and his story, he's definitely one of my faves. We'll learn more about him and his wife in the next SEA post. Next up though is some more DIE so look out for that <3 Vote in the poll, favorite, reblog, or comment, your engagement helps :)

[noblechaton]

hi. this is a post about Miraculous Ladybug - but also a post about me too. I've been on this bug and cat train since just about the beginning and getting to where we are now has made me kinda look back on it all - the show and myself so. I'mma ramble for a bit, pretty long post. gets kinda personal too

also there is like. no complaining or salt or anything like that in this post. adding this on in case anyone gets the wrong idea

like I said I've been here since roughly the beginning - not quite the first episode but close enough I feel, def within that first year or so. I've seen every episode (except "Felix" somehow. lmao, and the Shanghai special) and written countless words for this batch of furry doofuses, made countless posts that range from jokes to genuine analysis and spent what could probably be medically determined to be an unhealthy and maybe illegal amount of brainpower on the series as a whole, through the ups and downs, the fandom drama and leaks

and I know plenty of people who have fallen off for one reason or another - they didn't like the progression of the story, how things were being handled here or there, or they simply drifted from it for whatever reason. I kinda felt that way for a time, that I might be growing apart from the series as hiatus after hiatus built and my interests veered more towards other stuff, from wrestlemen to the witchy. it's scared me in the past, that I might stop loving the show, but with the S5 finale having hit and the major storyline that's been the thrust of the series mostly concluded I kinda realized something that I've kinda known for a long while

I'll never let it go, not entirely, and I'll never grow completely past it or beyond it - Miraculous is sort of a part of me

see, 8 years ago I was....drifting in a different way. I was losing touch with the people I held dearest, those irl friends I'd managed to maintain through school were fading fast and slowly I found myself almost alone, totally and completely. suddenly all the voices I'd been happily smothered by for years were just. gone. a few remained here and there, but it was fragmented if not completely cut off before too long and, well, I was scared

I was, for all intents and purposes, alone

but....then I started to watch this show that'd been recommended to me a few times, from before the voices faded. I'd written it off bc I didn't really care for CG shows, they always felt so empty and weird to me at the time, but the season was still ongoing and it wasn't as if I had much else to do, so I watched this episode called Stormy Weather and, not to sound too dramatic, but my life sorta changed

I loved it from the start, the style, the banter, the story. the animation was shockingly good, it felt alive. the characters were a total treat to see interact, the designs all but perfect to my eye. I got immediately hooked and only went further in the more I watched. slowly but surely I caught up on what was out there, watched what was coming out and at the same time, I sorta....reinvented myself, too, bc of this show

I made this blog, spread my wings a bit and tested some waters here and there in ways totally different from what I'd done before - I wasn't always Noble, yanno - and though it horrified me as someone that's just. terrible at talking to people, at making friends and forming connections, I still did what I could - I basically did what I did to get my first crush's attention actually, in that I just sorta danced and made a clown out of myself. we dated for 12 hours, funnily enough, didn't last. hope she's doing well. anyway

all that dancing, as it were, eventually caught the eye of someone I still consider one of my best friends to this day, who back then slowly hooked me up with who have since become some of my other best friends - I have a lotta best friends, okay? but the bond we've formed, though most of them are sorta on the outs with the show and despite us all being busy lately, it meant a lot to me - they mean a lot to me. they've....saved me, genuinely. I'm sure you can pick up the subtext here, but just as well, the show saved me, too

because I kept bumping into more people and forming connections as a result of this shared interest in a silly French cartoon, my confidence changed - I started behaving more like my senior year self in that nothing really stopped me, I didn't feel as shy or bashful or timid. soon I found myself in servers, talking with names I'd never imagined knocking up against, getting into contact with people I'd otherwise never dreamed of talking with, much less becoming friends with

now I have this web of people in my life, people I trust and care for that are amazing creators, amazing people both inside and outside of fandom, now I'm close to or otherwise good friends with a list of names that could take up most of this post if I started rambling them off. and just like that, I'd found myself a home again, I felt like I belonged somewhere again, there were voices again and the silence was gone

and I still struggle sometimes, we all do, I'm not as creative on here as I want to be - and I look to change that soon bc deep down I do believe in my ability now, something that wasn't true some few years ago - and I still struggle to talk with some of those I want to befriend, but I have talked to most of them, I've engaged on a level I never could just a few years back and....I have people I can turn to again, that I trust and love. that I hope love me too, y'know, not romantically or anything just, familial? friendly? you understand, I'm sure, anyway, point is, I was terribly alone for a long while, and gradually I've found myself in a place I find comfort in again, surrounded by friends that I'd do anything for

and it's all because of Miraculous, a show I still love

yeah there's been ups and downs, things I've liked a ton and didn't care much for, but I'm still with the show - I will be with the show. I thought season 5 was maybe the best of the bunch, at least on par with S1 imo, I'm stupidly excited about season 6 despite not being so sure of it just a few months ago. and above all else I just love watching it, posting about it and creating for it. it gets so much hate, I know there's constant discourse and there are genuine issues with it, but....again, I love it, I'll always love it. even if I drift away, if my interests shift or things take a turn, for any issue I take with the show myself, I think I'll always love this show, thick or thin

because this show saved me, it's made me a better person and gave me a life I'd once feared I'd lost, and for as silly as all of this might sound I'll always be grateful to that bug and cat team

anyway. that's enough sap from me for a bit, just kinda retrospective in light of the finale, kinda crazy to think about where I was 8 years back compared to now tbh. and not just the whole "oh yeah I'm a girl" thing lol

[dontjudgemeimawriter]

Find the Word Tag

tagged by @autumnalwalker ty!

empty Chrys POV

“What?” Nellie asks. “They’ve got someone. Variety called it, said we had a suspect and couldn’t waste more of the reserves. Time to go.” Nellie pauses for a second. “Okay,” she says. It’s everything I have not to breathe a sigh of relief, and keep myself still for enough time for them to be out of sight. I let myself relax, but don’t move until I hear nothing but that empty silence. They better be gone. I slowly peek around the corner. No one’s there.

carry Chrys POV (This is directly before Empty)

Damnit, damnit, damnit. I shift my weight, quickly finding a natural position, and as the footsteps get closer, I go as still as I can. When she rounds the corner, my eyes automatically flick to her. I’m not sure if this was the unnamed girl or Nellie. She’s black, with her hair in a bushy ponytail. She’s wearing purple velvet pants that match a vest, over a white blouse, and is carrying something bronze in her hand. I quickly realize that nothing can move if I’m not going to get caught. And I might get caught anyway. Because maybe that thing has a movement-detector or a time-anomaly detector. So I fix my eyes on a telephone pole just behind her, focus on it hard enough without blinking that my eyes unfocus.

warm Russell POV

[Hayln] sighs and opens to door for me. “Sure. Come on in.” Thank goodness. I walk into zir living room, letting myself relax a little bit. It’s familiar, at least. Warmly lit and inviting. Hayln locks the door behind zir and crosses zir arms as z studies me. “So… want to explain some things?” I really, really didn’t want to. I sat down on the couch, letting it flumph around me. I avoided eye contact. “Not dead.” Not entirely true.

sharp Chrys POV TW: Car Crash

And fuck it. It’s a null day, none of this matters and now I want to do something drastic and crazy and reckless, and it’s fine, really, because only I’ll get hurt and everything will be fine when the day resets like it always does and I can ignore her call, fuck it, fuck it. I hit the gas and spin the wheel, sending the car in a sharp turn and straight toward one side of the street. I didn’t even take in what I was aiming at, I certainly hadn’t noticed the guy standing next to the bench my car was veering to, the guy I make eye contact with seconds before my car hits him and the bench and my foot is too late to slam on the brakes—

answer Chrys POV

“Can you reverse time?” I ask, just speculatively, as I release my seatbelt. I’m thankful that it worked, obviously some things worked and some didn’t when time had stopped (Though the part of me that had read online physics theories about time stopping in TV shows cast some doubt on it, but that was theory and now, suddenly, this was reality). The car door also opens, and the guy steps aside for me to step out. He pauses at my question, looking thoughtful, like he may actually know enough to answer the question rather than just be dumbfounded about it. “I… no.”

Tagging: @blind-the-winds @wildjuniperjones @drippingmoon @teardropsandtherain @jessica-writes22 and anyone else who wants to! Your words are: suspect, detect, avoid, ignore, & theory

[mermaidsirennikita]

yeah i'm with you it feels like blatant course correction. you don't portray charles (and by extention camilla) so sympathetically by accident. i just cannot get over how he has everybody including diana be like you know what you're a great guy actually! the queen who spent the past 2 seasons going charles who? or lol this dumbass fuck my life...is now all you know he's made some really good points! coupled with dominic west being this conventionally attractive and naturally charismatic guy it feels so deliberate. like this is the guy charles wishes he was not who he actually is.

When Charles was younger, pre-Diana, and it had become clear that Camilla wasn't an option (or so they thought) the Windsors' team famously marketed him as the "action man" who was running about on the beach, super athletic, this lover of the ladies (and to be clear.... Charles definitely screwed around more than the show implies lmao, he wasn't this lovelorn suitor who only was apart from Camilla when he had no choice!!!). He was very conventionally masculine according to the era, which we know Charles isn't--and I don't mean that as a dig. I think Charles's interest in intellectualism (I won't call him an actual intellectual because he is not) and again the environment are probably among his best traits. He does seem like his innate personality, separate from his upbringing and training and appetites, veers towards more sensitive, whereas I think that even if there wasn't this expectation on them, Elizabeth and Philip wouldn't be naturally sensitive people (or Anne, for that matter). But Philip was always known to be kind of let down by Charles's lack of "masculinity" and decisiveness.

Dominic does play, as this not only more conventionally attractive but more conventionally macho and compelling man, as who Charles wants to be. I so agree. (And this isn't a dig at Josh O'Connor--I think Josh is not an unattractive guy, even if he's not my type, but I do think he's more able to change himself to fit the role; even his posture was different as Charles.) He has all the traits Charles wants to project--being haplessly in love, a well-intentioned father, a progressive??? royal, an Intellectual unlike his uneducated mom and his jock dad--wrapped up in this very Traditionally Manly form.

To me, the ongoing dysfunction of the Windsor clan also makes it unlikely that Lizzie 2 suddenly went all "you know what??? Charles can handle this". Charles can't even keep his own son from spilling the tea, dude. I don't think Elizabeth suddenly had this epiphany in her old age that being more approachable and tangible as a family was better for the royals. For one thing, she essentially had to be intensely pressured to give a statement on Diana's death. For another... I mean, look at how everything with H&M was handled. Not her fault because she was on her way out, but definitely a continuation of her approach.

(And here's where I remember that The Queen, also by PM and much better at handling the death of Diana, also had that beautiful metaphor of the gorgeous stag being hunted and killed, and Elizabeth seeing the stag and getting emotional, and I and so many other people naturally interpreted that as Elizabeth realizing that Diana was hunted and ultimately killed, and that while Elizabeth may not have been a fan it was tragic and worthy of the public's emotion.... Only for PM to go "actually, the stag represented ELIZABETH as a hunted animal". So. He's always been that guy.)

[possessionisamyth]

Given what Lily Gao has said about Ada, do you think Capcom is becoming aware of the criticisms regarding Ada's "dragon lady" persona and is working to correct it?

I'm going to preface this with I am not Chinese nor Chinese-American. I'm black, I taught english in Japan, and knowledge on this kind of racial stereotyping is growing at the same rate as my knowledge on antisemitism, AKA I know some but am still learning. So sorry again for this being long, but my answer will focus on how I look at writing/story analysis.

To be honest, for me when it comes to critically thinking about and analyzing media, I don't really care about what people say in interviews. I don't even look for them. The first exception I make to this is if someone has made enough of something that I can catch the patterns in their story-telling/depiction, and I have a desire to know where that comes from. That desire to know is also extremely rare, because there isn't a piece of written work (sans music) I don't analyze to some extent, and I've gotten great at guessing where ideas sprout from. Too good actually.

I say this not because the information is irrelevant, but because if what they're saying is true it will be executed well in the piece. If what they're saying is true, it will have met the goal whether or not they explicitly tell me what their goal is. I don't look at voice actor interviews, screenwriter interviews, or director interviews, and I haven't since my university classes. The other exception to this are blooper reels and director cuts with commentary. It's a shame many pieces no longer do these because they do highlight the goals of the movie better due to being in the moment with reels or by explaining why things were removed instead of why things were there, which is also more valuable to me.

I'm much less inclined to take Resident Evil voice actor opinions because I do not know how long they'll have that job. On top of that, IF we get Separate Ways DLC, I want how they took her lines in RE4R to make more sense as a result. I have a voice acting friend who loves Ada's new voice, but had problems with the direction they took her lines in. I didn't really hear it. I'm not experienced in that avenue. Me and my friend already have proven to have different opinions since I like when VAs voices crack or sound weak or warbly because it makes the scene feel more real to me. Voices aren't always perfectly practiced sounding without error because it veers too far into the uncanny which is why I stopped listening to ENG dubs of anime.

I love Ada talking to Luis and Leon like they're her subs. I love how bored and uninterested she sounds. It's a million times better than the "don't you want to fuck me" voice because anime has rotted the brains of many, and I'm a stupid gay who think women with deep voices can say anything so there's clearly a bias here! Yet until we see that DLC, which I'm praying we get, I can't tell you if Gao's words are true or not. Japan has a nasty history of being super xenophobic towards chinese people, and their xenophobia has been horribly normalized to this day. (I lived there, and I'm going back, and how nonchalant people were about it made me sick.)

As long as the DLC doesn't half focus on Luis, who Leon/Luis shippers are doing their own "latino papi" racist takes on link included check out the article, we'll have to see. I want to see the Remake Separate Ways DLC put in the work of departing Ada from the dragon lady stereotype. I want to know the writers and directors behind it realized how bad the original RE4 made it via making the remake DLC simply showing Ada as a woman who puts herself and her beliefs first no matter how gray those beliefs are. If it accomplishes that goal narratively, then I can assume whatever Lily Gao said is correct because other people will be talking about it. If it doesn't, then it doesn't regardless of the actor's interpretation of the piece.

Personally (this is related to the racist stereotype topic though veering off topic) If they do RE5 Remake, I will be flooding the tags with either praise or vitrol because jesus fucking christ the african stereotypes in the original? Painful. Physically painful for me. If they don't fix it, you all will know. In the meantime, praying we get that Separate Ways DLC. Really hoping to hear chinese voices who either enjoyed or felt neutral about Gao's acting on the DLC if it drops.

[omgkalyppso]

Would you want to do 1, 17, 19 for Hilda for the pride asks??

You know I would! fdghdfg Thank you for the ask. uwu

1.How do they identify?

I headcanon Hilda to be a bisexual cis woman. There's nothing interesting about in/tsys making a feminine woman but I can entertain myself with Hilda as a fat, muscular femme.

17. What advice would they give their younger self?

It's a coin toss whether I headcanon one of fire emblem's missing mothers as deceased or not; I do in Hilda's case. So in a canon setting there's just aging (retired) Goneril Senior who has given control of the house to Holst; who Hilda says would have been the next obvious choice for leader of the Alliance if Claude hadn't shown up.

(I have a point, I'm getting to it.)

The difference in how Hilda addresses Cyril compared to how Holst refers to Cyril in his letter, reminds me of interactions in my mixed family. Hilda reads the letter to Cyril (for the audience's benefit Really but we can pretend) as a gesture of good will, but from what we can glean, Holst didn't write to Cyril, his letter was fully intended for his little sister and I feel that the words between the lines of this (and probably other letters from Holst) are, "Don't turn out like dad. Can you see it? In how we were raised?"

In a modern setting fic of mine, I have Fae, Claude and Lorenz visit the Gonerils. They join Holst in his furnished basement while Hilda's parents stay on the main floor and they can hear Goneril Sr shouting his displeasure / lack of understanding from the floor above. Hilda's mother is the only character I've written to actually (accidentally) misgender Fae (so far?).

I think Claude would have had a harder time bringing Nader over if Goneril Sr was still in charge of the border. I don't think he's only made of hate, but I think her parents would be reflective of the fears, stereotypes and reputation that's hinted at with regards to the "Eastern Menace" of Almyra and Fodlan nobility as a whole.

I think this is supported by how they spoil and scold Hilda.

And so.

Hilda's advice to her younger self would include a reassurance that her inner life will one day just be her life, and that her being extroverted won't always be a performance or a misinterpretation with how she'd rather laze / do nothing / not try. I think she would advise making sure she's more patient and generally kinder with herself and others, which would include a gamut of diversity, because even though she's very sympathetic, she expresses it with a haughty entitlement in her youth that has been learned and nurtured by people she can never fully please anyway.

I think other advice she would have for herself would veer further from the theme of Pride except for how it still would relate to her, a bi woman, you know?

Anyway, rotating this line in my mind at light speed:

Hilda: Ooh, they eloped! I like that. It's so romantic. Imagine, abandoning your family forever to be with the one you love! Not everyone can do that.

19. What’s the [identity]-est thing they’ve ever done?

In Houses canon: That one line in the m/arihilda paired ending:

The accessories sent to Marianne personally by Hilda became some of the most highly valued treasures in history.

It has to win out because without the m/arihilda paired ending there'd be far less wlw Hilda content. However, I also want to honour her A Support with Claude for this:

Hilda: When you smile or laugh, it's not sincere. I can tell. I've only seen you genuinely smile a handful of times. Like when you're talking to the professor. Claude: Well? Good one, Hilda. You hit me right in the gut. I guess you're right. I'm not so different from you in that way. But how did you come to realize that? Have you been watching me that closely? Hilda: I'm afraid so. My eyes seem to wander toward you, of their own accord. Waagh! Hold on! Forget I said that. I didn't say that.

Because I interpret this as a casual attraction to both Claude and Byleth (regardless of gender). I don't know. It's something about unintentional attention -- and care built up over years, you know?

In Hopes canon: Her Leonie support chain.

Nonsense: Her dock martens / big ol' boots + pink aesthetic.

Explicit Nonsense:

Either when Lorenz comes out as bisexual sometime after marriage and the nature of their intimacy changes, first with her pegging him and then with them discussing more candidly their attraction to others of any gender.

Or whenever she has sex with with any of her partners in any configuration.

[girldigital]

be easy please

With everyday that passes, I find myself falling more and more in love with the fantasy.

Of course I liked him. Even if there were some yellow (orange even) flags (okay red too), I am being a hypocrite and looking away. “Nothing I can’t fix”, I say confidently - and the worst part is I believe it. Pretty hard to be sure after one date, but I imagine it wouldn’t take too much given how similar we are already.

Anyway, negatives aside (which shall remain vague for now (shame)), he is technically a match. Not what I’m looking for, but clearly what I seem to be seeking hasn’t been working, so maybe it’s for the best.

After our date, I remember feeling good inside, but also very content with the friendly nature of it. It’s rare for me to feel sexual attraction towards anybody, but I typically know fairly early if I can see myself either passively or actively enjoying sex with a man. Then again, I think I’ve only felt keen to kiss during a first date twice, one of which just so happens to have taken place a week before meeting Aiden.

I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not. Part of me thinks it is, because I have something very fresh to compare my feelings to, but on the other, I wonder if I would’ve been more swept off my feet had it not happened. Frankly though, I don’t think so.

You see, Aiden and I too alike - to a point where it creates noticeable cracks in the fantasy. Suddenly, all I see are two dorks pretending not to be. Actually, he wasn’t even pretending, which in a way was worse as it forced me to renounce my usual act. While that might sound like a good thing, with that also comes any sort of sexual tension vanishing. Do I not believe I deserve to be loved for who I am? Maybe. Probably, in fact. It’s just hard to feel attracted to someone who reminds you of who you’re hiding.

Anyway, those are all things I felt during/right after. Now that it’s been a week of almost no coms, I find myself romanticizing him again, as if everything I felt in the moment during will magically fade away and leave room for the perfect narrative to take place.

Things that freaked me out in the flesh suddenly seem endearing. I catch myself imagining things I never have with others like marriage and fatherhood. Ew right...

While that’s slightly comforting (I have a heart!), I’m also painfully aware of the fact that I’m fetishizing the idea more so than I actually want him. I imagine myself telling my mom about the older, handsome Spanish architect I’m dating and her smiling in glee at the fact that she’s succeeded at veering me away from lesbianism. Wouldn't it be all so perfect?

Also, I was talking to Reboot and I realized a big part as to why I want to date a man, besides the warmth and validation, is that I will finally be able to d*ke-out in peace. Yes, I’m aware of the contradiction...

If I can explain myself though, my mom has always said in regards to me wanting to get tattoos : “When you marry, you can do whatever you want.” Even though that’s an obvious ridiculous statement, I haven’t been able to change her opinion through out the years. If anything, it’s now gotten worse as she requires her death before I can do anything - how dramatic. I’ve pushed the envelope in every way I could that doesn’t isn't permanent (haircuts, hair colors, bleached brows, piercings), but even still, every single one of these frustrate her to irrational levels. I think a big reason is that she sees them as ways I make myself more undesirable to men.

One of the things she said when we were fighting about my eyebrow piercing was: “What man would want a girl with that?”. I told her that I wouldn't want a man who would judge me for things this futile, which she agreed with but unfortunately still, I think my brain has successfully been rewired to associate freedom with male companionship. If only I were to be in a relationship with a man worthy of her praise, then I would finally be free to do as I please, without the weight of her disappointment and disapproval. That way, I can both prove to her that I can be lovable with the appearance she deems as unworthy, and most importantly, that, again, I am not the lesbo daughter of her nightmares yay! If I have a boyfriend, who cares if I’m a tatted up, short-haired, androgynous presenting gal right?

My life has been poisoned by conditions and I keep finding myself binding myself to them for no other reason than…I don’t know actually.

Anyway, I’m sleepy.

Before last night in BCN…

[aloudplace]

Dirty thoughts 4

Loki was furious .

The little bitch had tattled to Stark, and now Loki had three idiot human chaperones instead of just the one.

He paced his quarters, too inflamed to sit quietly, circling the long couch and the woman who sat on it, veering off to pass along the windows on the south side of the room.

She'd shown up with two guards this morning. They stood on either side of the door in their matching black suits and their earpieces, watching expressionlessly.

Bella was ignoring him, fiddling with her cell phone. Pretending nothing had changed. If not for the guards, he never would have known she'd told. Her demeanor had revealed nothing since the moment she'd walked in.

In fact, she appeared entirely relaxed in her blue jeans and flowered, off-the-shoulder blouse, legs crossed at the knee. Her glossy chocolate hair had been trimmed recently and the short hairs at her nape were just long enough to start curling again. Looking at her–-at the hair he now knew was even silkier than it looked, at the exposed curve of her neck, the taste of which was still vivid in his mind–-made him feel itchy, almost violent.

He'd stopped pacing, he realized. He was standing by the windows directly across from the couch, staring at her. Finally, she looked up. He gave her a long, icy glare, drinking in her wide dark eyes, the heavy lashes. The smattering of freckles on her nose and upper cheeks. The full pink bow of her mouth.

One of her brows lifted slightly. "Something on your mind?"

The taste of your mouth , he thought viciously, and then watched her features twitch and flex in surprise–-and then in discomfort.

She didn't blush though. And there wasn't even a flicker of anger in her steady gaze. For some reason that only increased his ire.

He turned and strolled towards the dining area of his quarters. "What's on the agenda today?"

"Same as always," she said, sounding bored.

It was the same conversation they had nearly every day, like a ritual. She was playing her part perfectly.

Are we pretending yesterday didn't happen? He glanced back at her as he paused next to the small dining table.

Her frown showed irritation. She glanced pointedly at the guards. "Your off-compound privileges have been temporarily revoked."

"Oh? What shame," he rallied mockingly, suppressing his bitterness. His restlessness.

She rolled her eyes and went back to her phone.

Loki paced some more, fuming silently. Three months they'd kept him a cell before Thor had convinced them to let him out. Another month of constant supervision–-always Thor or one of the others at his elbow. Always the cameras and the suspicious gazes. And then they'd brought Bella–-his psychic babysitter–-and she'd been... an unexpected diversion. A breath of fresh air, if he was honest. Wide brown eyes full of curiosity and unexpected kindness–-and utterly devoid of contempt, suspicion, disgust; the things he saw in the eyes of every other human he met.

She looked like a nursery school teacher but he'd learned quickly there was intellect behind that angelic little face. A delightful, sneaky sense of humor. A startling lack of judgment for the attempted conqueror of her own planet, her people.

She'd treated him for all the world like a friend.

Bits of her angry tirade in the car came back to him for the hundredth time.

I also honestly fucking like you.

I can't trust you... why did I even give you a chance?

...as much as I want you to be happy, if you ever fuck with me like that again...

Loki struggled not to growl aloud, bombarded by a mix of emotions he didn't care to examine too closely.

She' taken him into her home, and she'd let him kiss her, touch her. Perhaps she had been a diversion-–she was only human after all. And perhaps he had taken advantage because it had been so long since he'd even had the chance to touch a woman, and he was starved for it–-for any kind of real pleasure.

And she'd blushed so prettily at his teasing. Acted like she enjoyed his attention, as uncomfortable as it made her. So, when the opportunity had arisen to take a little pleasure in her, he'd jumped at it. Was that so deplorable? Did he deserve to be villainized for it?

He had to admit that he did like the little human. He liked her a great deal, as ridiculous as it was. He hadn't meant to abuse her in any way. That look she'd given him in the car-–like he'd wounded her somehow...

Loki told himself it hadn't made him feel guilty–-that it was nonsense on her part. Human idiocy. He hadn't done anything wrong. And he didn't give a damn how she felt about him. But now that she'd withdrawn her friendship he felt...viciously ill-used.

He felt positively vengeful, in fact.

Abruptly, Bella stood. She turned to the guards, "Will you please leave us for a moment?"

"Uh, Miss, are you sure?" said the one on the left. Loki had forgotten their names the moment Bella introduced them. He watched with icy disdain as Bella assured them she would be fine and ushered them out.

"There are still cameras," she said, as soon as she'd turned back to him.

"As if I could forget," he sneered.

"I'm sorry about the guards. Tony insisted."

"Oh, you're sorry. Well, in that case," he returned contemptuously.

"One of the guards reported our...little scene in the car yesterday, otherwise things would be just as they were. I had no intention of reporting it."

"Of course," he stalked toward her dangerously, "What would Tony think if he knew you'd willingly taken my tongue into your mouth?"

She actually flushed a little at the words. "He does know, Loki."

He froze, "What? You told him?"

She nodded.

"Why? "

"Because I'm honest?"

"What could have possessed you to do such an idiotic thing?" he snarled.

"You mean kiss you, or tell Tony the truth?" she rejoined wryly.

Loki glared.

"It wasn't any great crime," she went on helplessly, "He's not even mad about it. You just have to behave yourself with me for a couple more weeks and you'll be allowed to leave again."

The regret in her eyes was salt in his wounds.

"Only now we'll have a pair of Stark's suited goons along for the ride, is that it?" he spat.

"Just to make sure things stay...platonic."

Loki's eyes narrowed. He'd closed the space between them until they stood only a few feet apart. "Platonic," he repeated thoughtfully. "Is that for my sake or yours?"

"Both."

He stalked closer. "So, we both have to earn his trust again, hm?"

She watched him come with obvious anxiety. "I told him I'd learned my lesson," she said warily.

Loki halted less than an arm's length away and her scent curled around him delicately. "And he believed you?"

She swallowed loudly. "Loki-–"

"Did you think the cameras would protect you? That I wouldn't touch you so long as some peon in a control room was watching?" He moved closer, until they were toe-to-toe. Bella was looking up at him with her eyes very wide, breasts hitching upward on a nervous breath.

"The guards are right outside," she whispered. "Don't screw this up for yourself just because you want to punish me, Loki."

"Punish you?" he murmured wickedly, "Who says I want to punish you?" His hands found her hips, slid up to her sweet little waist, making her gasp and grab his forearms as though to stop him.

"You're angry," she said breathlessly. "You want to hurt me."

The words stung–-partially because they were true, and partially because hearing her say them made him feel bitterly ashamed of himself.

He picked her up and backed her to the wall, pinning her there with a thunk. Her little squeak of surprise urged him on and the in the next moment he was kissing her fiercely, angrily–-almost desperately. She squirmed against him and it felt so damned good, even though she was trying to push him off.

Loki made himself soften, gave her his tongue in a slow, liquid glide, pressing her flat to the wall with the length of his body. She stiffened when she felt his erection, and then–-sweet Allmother, thank you –-the fight seemed to leave her and she went butter soft against him. Her little hands slid up his arms to his chest and then fisted in his jacket, pulling him closer.

That's it, he thought distantly, anger forgotten, drawing on her tongue and then groaning as she dipped it into his mouth, exploring him of her own volition. His hands glided up her sides and he took her breasts in a slow, sensuous grip, growling with pleasure at the sensation. She shuddered and whimpered sweetly into his mouth.

Behind him, the door burst open. "Alright, Reindeer Games, let her go."

Anger returning in a rush, Loki slowly released her. Just before turning he looked down into her face. Her eyes were wide with dread–-but no anger. No judgment.

She was horrified. Afraid. But not of him. Not by him.

For him.

Loki turned slowly toward Stark and his guards, anger warring with a strange, unexpected rush of elation.

"Hello, Stark," he said mildly.

Stark gave Loki a disapproving look, lips pursed, and held his hand out to Bella. "Come here, sweetheart. Let's get you away from the big bad God."

Bella stepped out from behind Loki, "Mr. Stark, it was my fault. I shouldn't have sent the guards away."

"Oh, we can agree on that," Stark replied, hand still extended, eyes on Loki.

"He didn't hurt me," she said urgently, and Loki realized with a start that she was defending him.

"It looked pretty forceful to me, hon," Stark replied. His gaze shifted to her. "You were trying to fight him off, were you not?"

"I–- was," she replied haltingly, sheepishly. "At first. Right up until... I wasn't."

Loki glanced at her in surprise. Honest, indeed.

The two guards shared a brief look of shock. Stark sighed. "You sure this isn't like, some kind of Stockholm syndrome or something?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Loki saw her nod. "I guess I have a thing for bad boys," she laughed nervously.

Loki's heart did a shameful little dance of triumph.

Stark lowered his hand. "Well, I guess I can't hold that against you." He grinned at her in a way that made Loki's hackles rise. "I used to be a bit of a bad-boy myself. Though-–" he shot Loki a considering look, "This guy is on a whole other level."

"You knew this was going to happen!" Bella blurted.

Stark grinned. "You reading my mind?" Then he shrugged. "I might have suspected something like this would occur."

"Why did you let her comeback in then?" Loki demanded angrily.

Stark smirked, shook his head. "You still don't get it, do you Reindeer Games? You're one of ours now."

Loki scowled in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Stark held up a finger and then turned to the guards. "Fellas, dismissed."

They both blinked at him in surprise.

"Alright, come on, chop chop," Stark clapped his hands at them and they scurried out the door. "That's right, little privacy here, thank you."

The door clicked shut and he turned around, pointed directly at Loki, "You, my friend, have to get into the Avengers mentality. Teamwork, cooperation. Trust ."

Loki looked at Bella and her expression reflected his bewilderment. "What the hell are you talking about, Stark?"

"I'm talking about your one-man-against-the-world-pity-party thing, Lo-lo."

Loki nearly choked. Lo-lo? Pity party? "My what? " he snarled in outrage.

"Are you in or are you out, man?" Tony returned impatiently. "You've behaved yourself perfectly for months, bad attitude notwithstanding. Your brother trusts you. Bella trusts you. I let you go off-compound yesterday with no armed escort and the worst thing you did was kiss a pretty girl. And when that blew up in your face, you still came back ." He shrugged and made a face like, Well? "You gonna give up this serial-killer-slash-martyr act and be a good guy, or what?"

Loki was floored. Speechless.

"You're not upset at all?" Bella asked cautiously. "About the, erm, inappropriate behavior?"

"Hey, you're both consenting adults. And like I said, who am I to judge?" Tony grinned. "Besides, Rock of Ages over here falling for a good old-fashioned human girl seems like growth to me."

"Will you please stop with the nicknames," Loki grated.

"Not a chance," Tony came back without hesitation. "And don't think for a moment this means I'm cutting you two loose." He pointed at Bella, "You keep doing your job as specified, and you-–" he pointed at Loki, "are now responsible for keeping her safe in the field."

Loki blurted, "I'm responsible for what? " at the same time Bella said, "In the field?"

"That's right, folks. You're partners now. Congratulations. Bella, you start field training next week," he turned and pulled the door open. "By the way, you have the rest of the week off. Go on a date or something. Eat spaghetti, see a movie. Enjoy your freedom. Starting Monday, it's no more lazy days at Stark Tower. We got shit to do and I need you both on point." He waved them off as he walked out, and the door swung shut behind him with a click.

..............................

It's Thursday, I thought dumbly. Three day weekend.

Then I looked at Loki. He was still staring blankly at the closed door. He must have felt me staring because he glanced over.

Suddenly my heart was in my throat, pounding like crazy. Tony had just given us his full approval to...what? Start a relationship?

I knew that was insane-–just the thought of dating the God of Mischief made me want to giggle hysterically.

It also made me ache with longing. Stupidly.

Loki's eyes narrowed.

"W-what?" I stuttered, hating myself.

His lips compressed. Relaxed. He was shielding his thoughts, but his emotions were still in turmoil. Anger sizzled in the air around him. The regret was gone though.

That had been a revelation.

I'd come to work this morning tied in knots, wondering how he would behave. I knew he'd be angry about the guards. I'd kind of expected him to play it off though-–to return to the condescending ice-prince routine. To treat me like nothing more than a mild irritation.

But he'd been tied in knots, too. Furious, guilty. And the longer I pretended nothing was wrong, the more inflamed he'd become, pacing around in a silent fit of rage. Radiating regret and frustration.

He was sorry. Or he had been.

Not that he would ever say so.

The God of Mischief cared about me. It was there in his feelings. The hurt he tried to drown out with anger. His desire to retaliate against me.

And of course, my determination to remain distant had crumbled in mere minutes. I still wanted to be his friend. I couldn't stand to see him in pain.

So I'd sent the guards out, hoping to talk him down. To mend fences.

I'd never expected him to come after me like that, radiating lust and danger.

I could still feel his big body against me-–the searing heat of his erection stabbing my belly.

Gentle, coaxing Loki–-while still a bit aggressive–-had been intoxicating. Angry, forceful Loki had completely robbed me of my sense.

My legs were still trembling a little from it. My breasts tingled madly from his touch. My mouth felt swollen, lips hypersensitized. I wanted him to do it again–-and at the same time, I was absolutely terrified that he would.

He was looking at me like he could read my mind, and I almost believed it.

"You have thirty seconds to get out of here," he growled, "before I finish what we started."

"Loki–-" I began, backing away a step, "W-we should talk."

He bared his teeth in a predatory grin, totally devoid of humor. "Make it ten seconds."

Self-preservation beat out my desire to smooth things over. I turned and scurried for the door.

"Bella," he said, just as I took hold of the knob.

I looked back.

"Congratulations," his eyes glittered with unspoken promise, " Partner. "

[criffyzou]

Every time someone asks for a follow-up to Dragons of Stormwreck Isle on reddit, they get replies about other dragon-themed modules and no one seems concerned about the players and their character arcs.

The premade characters (which my players really enjoy) are not really into the whole dragon slaying thing, but all of them are looking for a sense of belonging.

I might be influenced by my players' interpretation but:

The wizard, having lost contact with other apprentices after their studies, was working an unsatisfying job at the archives before getting the letter from a dead college friend. She's in it less for the promised knowledge and more for the sudden realization that her life was going nowhere. My BFF plays her like someone with not a lot of social skills who desperately wants to be liked.

The rogue was initially in it for the loot, but after befriending Tarak and hearing his backstory, realized maybe people you trust with your life are more important than treasure, and does not really want to go back to his guild. He still likes loot though, just wants a different entourage.

The fighter got way too used to resting on his laurels, thinking being adored and admired would always come naturally to him, and is now slowly seeing he has to keep earning his folk hero status, if he wants to, or start looking for fulfillement elsewhere

The paladin's original storyline is his resolve being put to the test by corruption in Neverwinter, but the player losing the party's trust for selling them potions Tarak gave him to share with everyone is making him veer dangerously towards breaking his oath. He's now looking for a purpose to find himself again.

I am not yet sure what we will play next, if we keep playing, but I know I will take where they are on their journey into account.