#then again i don't know the full story or how things play out

[kinardsevan]

What is your opinion on Tommy coming back or not? And in they case we see him again, do you think it’ll be just for closure (ex: Abby in season 3) or maybe for a BuckTommy second chance?

fun fact: i was considering doing an entire breakdown with a bunch of Oliver's interviews from the start of this arc until now to point to my opinion:

Tommy is coming back. The romcom theme is still in effect, and we're only about midway through the 3rd act.

Long story short (and without sources right now), I think that the interviews were actuallly pointing in this direction with the wording for a hot second. We have OS telling us that he thinks the best relationships have a "will they, won't they" bit where the audience and the characters are pining. We've seen this play out on the show. And we also have to remember that Oli knew during this interview that the breakup was coming. We also have the interview (I believe it was the Decider one I linked last week) where he mentions choosing to fight for the relationship or not. I feel like a lot of people have taken the context of that and twisted it into "they didn't do it right away, so they're not going to". Except, there's ANOTHER quote of relevance, which is Oliver talking about how Buck's queerness isn't tied to Tommy or Eddie, and only to himself.

Obviously, there have been things said since 806 that would point towards me being delulu, except, here's the issue: TM, OS and LFJr are NOT going to tell us that Tommy is coming back if that's the intention. It would spoil the surprise of it all, and the win of it all. What fun is there in that? What TM has said is that Tommy is Buck's romantic past but that doesn't mean he won't turn up again in the future (all relevant and true facts which do not shut down a reconciliation). Lou never out-and-out said he was done with the show. He's said time and time again that he wants to come back. TM has mentioned Tommy coming around again. OS literally said in an interview "they may run into each other on scene and have it be awkward".

Now obviously we don't actually have the full story with how things went down and the show decided to go with splitting the boys up. I think the fact that Lou has called out the bullying but says he wants to come back suggests that it wasn't him saying it was too much. I have two theories that could honestly run concurrent with one another:

Evan and Tommy break up in 806 at the end of the episode. With 911 having 18 episode seasons, this quite literally only makes up the first third of the season. It set up the beginning of the year for us. We're now two episodes into the second part of the season with a pretty clear idea of where the next three will go and suggestions (by fans, nothing official) that the "soonest" we could see LFJr again is 812. This is reasonable, as it would be the end of the middle of the season. Knowing that TM has suggested he might do a multi-episode season finale, pushing LFJr back into the show in 812 (or even the end of 811 if we go with my theory that Eddie could possibly leave around this time and Tommy helps them pack up/his and Buck's first time spending time around each other again), there would still likely be something around this time period that would be around when they would open the doors to this. As it is, we know that 809 and 810 go together, and then we'd have 811 to really flesh out the end of Buck's fling. I think there's even more possibility of LFJr being in this episode as well because if the plan is to bring them back together (which everything has been suggested so far ON screen in terms of keeping Tommy "in" the story), three-episode arc gives us several things: a. it allows the show to make the point that Buck's queerness is not intrinsically attached to Tommy; that his interest in men is as equal as he know his interest in women is. b. it gives them the ability to also show that his feelings for Tommy are not based in Tommy being his "first", or Evan needing to "discover" more about himself. They're in love with each other, and the show has given us the pieces for that. LFJr has acknowledged it in an interview, Tommy loves Buck. We also know that Tommy's line to Evan is "you'd end up breaking my heart, and I don't think I could deal with that". When I hear that sentence, what I'm actually hearing is "I'm already in love with you, and if I let myself fall more in love with you by being with you every day all the time and this ends, I won't survive it". By relation, we have Josh ask Buck if he loves Tommy and Buck waffles, but I think this has more to do with his lack of understanding of what a healthy love is in a relationship, given his past relationships. He never got to tell Abby. Ali left. and saying I love you to Taylor wasn't about the core of actually being in love with her, which I think is another important piece for BuckTommy: they don't just love each other, they're in love with each other. Still, sometimes it's hard to quantify that feeling, and I think (as I've referenced before), for Evan it was easier to ask Tommy to share a living space with him than to share how he feels about him because historically, things haven't worked out well for him when he's been in love outwardly. Further, the questions Josh asks Evan are directly correlated with loving someone, and Evan answers yes to all of them. (I don't think I need to add this, but he also sees a future with Tommy, talks about being engaged or married. He's serious about Tommy in a way he never has been before.)

There's also the theory that the breakup happened because of scheduling conflicts. Now obviously the show could've found other ways to work around LFJr's scheduling issues by having Tommy go on a trip or what-have-you, but let's remember OTHER things that have been said by OS in prior interviews: a. back in June, he did an interview where he stated that he wanted and hoped that BuckTommy would go through issues that couples normally go through in their first year together. He wanted normal issues. This storyline IS normal. b. he didn't want to repeat Tarlos. By the very definition of what the show is doing right now, we're not. Tarlos and BuckTommy are their own things with their own reasonings.

One of the other things I also keep being pulled back to is these issues: first of all, we know how LFJr plays with the 911 demo, given that they got to see it last season. It's why he was written into more episodes after his initial four episode arc and brought back. ABC has also used BuckTommy in their own adverts, which suggests that they are very supportive of the relationship continuing because it draws in viewers. Truly giving that up for good feels like dousing yourself in gasoline and then considering striking a match. Second, people also keep calling out that TM only plans a few weeks in advance. I believe this is true with story beats. We know that the writers room has a general idea on character arcs, thanks to some of the discussion on the cheese page post-806. I really struggle to believe that TM didn't know going into going forward with the breakup whether or not he wanted to bring LFJr back. We know he waffled back and forth on the idea of the breakup, meaning he probably had other solutions on his mind for whatever LFJr's schedule needed adjusting for, and this is what he decided on. Also, even if 8b hasn't been broken down yet (we know it hasn't), they would still know at this point what they do or don't want, what their ideas might be. Solidification for why Tommy should be brought back is directly shown in the reaction by the GA and the fandom to the breakup. They may not know exactly how that reunion happens yet, but what they have suggested is that Buck's new relationship will be short-lived. That he's using it to cope. We also know he's still processing the break-up and still misses Tommy. These are all things that point to the story not being over. Plus, I feel (once again), if the story really was over and they didn't have plans to continue this in 8b, LFJr wouldn't be talking about wanting to go back. It be far more "yeah that sucked, but it's over now and what can you do? I'm off to this new show and I'll never be back." (I've commented also on the fact that the fangirlish interview comment about his "i'm going here, doing this, have some opportunities" statement is very run-of-the-mill. Obvs I could mean something. Or it could literally just be a canned answer.) (This might feel a little off-center, but I think his commentary on trusting TM and knowing what he's doing in one of his post-806 interviews directly suggests that he believes the story is going to be handled properly.)

I realize at the end of the day, all of what I'm piecing together could mean zilch and Tommy could possibly never come back. They could truly just drop the story and never circle back around, set fire to a beautiful arc and lose thousands (possibly millions) of viewers. I've certainly suggested myself being one of them. But I don't see BuckTommy only getting an Abby fix for two reasons. LFJr wants to come back and continue the story, and Connie Britton only ever intended to do one season. Also, the fling has been called out as being planned to be short-lived. Why bother mentioning that if you don't have other plans for the story.

The last thing I'll leave you with is my commentary from the interview Oli and Aisha did with the guy from Chicago. That reporter obviously liked the BuckTommy storyline and said he's choosing to believe that the relationship is paused, not over. By relation, we had Oliver say three things: (1 and 2) Buck is still looking for love, both in himself and with another person. (3)The season is only half over. Circle that back to 806-808. Buck is finding love in himself by dealing with it in a healthy way (so far) with the baking. We've also seen the "cracks" Oli mentioned with his continued urge to want to text Tommy, as well as him fighting it off by baking (referencing the "pendulum swinging"). Looking for love in others will likely be this arc where he tries to deal/move on. I feel like we collectively watched the end of 806, and then 807 and 808 yelling at the TV "you're in love with him, piece it together already!" (or maybe that was just me???). But truly, whether it's a fling, his therapist, or Bobby/Maddie/Eddie who finally spells it out of or him, I think there will be a point at which we see that come to fruition. The seeds were sewn in for it in the scene with Josh. Now it's just about watching those seeds sprout.

Final note: we've had a good run up to this point with these two. Did we truly thing that the honeymoon phase would last forever? (I didn't. Conflict and the pink bubble popping have to happen eventually.) If we really want to suggest that what BuckTommy has is real, they have to go through this and come out the other side. I think everyone is justifiably frustrated due to the 4 month wait on new episodes (I personally would not have left people hanging quite like this, but that's just me), but the narrative does lead us toward what the show is doing with the suggestion that it does have a natural (and good) conclusion. (Possibly with a helicopter/truck/jeep crash?!)

And just as my singularly LAST note, here's my other thing: Evan and Tommy both have abandonment issues. (Tommy's are clear based on the break up and we know Buck's.) By that correlation, when these two finally get back together, they're never going to fucking let the other go.

(This was so much longer than I intended it to be, but that's my answer 😂😂😂😂😂😂)

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Gordon and Edward, Part 2

Hello and welcome back to "Jobey ruins beloved RWS characters for you, using the power of... the actual RWS text!" 😇

Part 1: Gordon, what's your damage? 😭 / The Doylist Reason / Rent. Free. 

Post 2 (this post): Edward's Defences / Gordon's Growth

Post 3 (upcoming post, link later): Collision / Uh… Cleanup Crew?

Edward's Defences

Pretty consistently, through the next 45 years, Edward (most conflict-avoidant engine ever built?) takes a four-pronged approach to dealing with Gordon and the threat he represents:

He keeps Gordon at a distance. He focuses on building connections with… Literally Everyone Else. Gordon is kept more than a good buffer's length away (and when they must be in close proximity things do tend to go south in a hurry).

He tries to never give Gordon a reaction, or any other ammo. Will not admit weakness or discomfort or upset. Difficult, because he has a transparent face when he's sad! And he's comfortable confiding in others! But he'll never, willingly, let Gordon see him bleed. 

Instead he treats Gordon very lightly. Adopts a sort of affectionate knowingness, which allows him to "laugh off" Gordon's more irritating or threatening qualities. 

He takes control of the narrative. He doesn't shy from telling humans the engines' business. He spreads stories (I'm not saying false stories) that counter Gordon's branding of himself as supreme and infallible. He also builds his own brand as reliable and sensible. 

Where do I get all this from? The text: 

"I've got some trucks to take home tomorrow," he told him. "If you take them instead, I'll push coaches in the Yard." (~1925)

We're less than one full book away from "now all three engines are great friends" and Edward is already shedded somewhere else, baby. That move was likely integral to developing those two new friendships with Henry and especially with Gordon… ironic but true. Hey, we know that the big engines seem to have only learned to appreciate Thomas after he left, too! And, of course, it gives Edward some space from all of the *waves hand vaguely* at the Big Shed. He doesn't like conflict (and Gordon is a conflict-generating machine). 

They both rested at the next station; Edward told James how Gordon had stuck on the hill, and he had had to push him up! (1925) 

Bro. Bro bro bro bro bro. I am pointing urgently. 

This bit is so telling. It's been two years since the events of EDO/E&G and Edward is already seen defining Gordon's whole brand as we now know it to newcomers. 

If it wasn't for that moment, I wouldn't insist with nearly as much confidence what I think then comes into focus as a clear fact: The early RWS itself is all evidence that Edward is winning the propaganda war, lol. Gordon's opinion of himself is a silly, endearing, limited point of view. Edward's opinion of himself is canon, bitches! 

Incredible stuff. 

This scene is a glimpse into the tactics that allowed Edward to eventually win this game (poor Gordon has no idea they're playing). Here he is laying the groundwork a good 20 years before the books about them were even published! And this is a good place to remind readers that, unlike in TVS where they make Gordon's hill problem a recurring gag, we only see Gordon stalling out there and requiring a banker's help once. In Christopher Awdry's Gordon the High Speed Engine, he also specifies that Gordon (who is about to have trouble on the hill again, in the 1980s) stuck before on this hill. "[O]nce." Once. 

This is not a habit of his. It was a one-off thing. It's only remembered at all because his superior attitude and his ignorance of the words "thank you" offended Edward so deeply that he kept the memory of this event alive for over 20 years, until the Thin Clergyman got the story in print. 

It's a bit messed up. 

It's more than a bit petty. 

It's so bloody funny. 

No, I don't think Edward is some consciously evil Machiavellian genius. He's neither vindictive nor that far-sighted. But he's resilient, and creative enough to instinctively change the rules of the game when otherwise they'd grind him into rust. And there is his characteristic kindness mixed up in all of this, too: He needs to find a way to welcome Gordon's presence in his life, so he finds a narrative that makes Gordon funny and lovable instead of a threat. He sees James is insecure, so he tells that story at least partly from real solidarity and empathy. It's not like he's trashing Gordon, either – there is no lie told, and James is not put off trying to "motor-mouth" his way into Gordon's good graces. I'd characterize it, not as trashing Gordon, more… injecting an element of realism into his growing legend ;) We see in the same book that Gordon is continuing in his superior attitude (which involves putting others down, even if it's a bit more indirectly than he did two books earlier) and that his attitude depresses and dejects newcomers like James. There is good, civic-minded reason to slyly undermine Gordon's branding of himself as all-powerful and invincible – it's not good for the railway as a whole if Gordon is allowed to lord over them all on his throne unchecked, the new engines forever overawed. It is kind of Edward to welcome James and give him a boost, it's genuinely useful for everyone that in the end James triumphs to seize the role of a darkhorse rival junior but trusted colleague of Gordon's. 

At the same time, while it's all justifiable and even beneficial, this action is also very useful in cementing Edward's own position. Let's just be clear-eyed about this. 

"Shall I help you, James?" called Edward. / "No, thank you," answered James, "I'll pull them myself." / "Good, don't let them beat you." (1925-6) 

Edward and James show a perfect understanding of each other in this moment – different though they may be, Don't let them beat you is a shared value. (Shared by a lot of engines, of course; probably a steam engine culture thing. Douglas says something similar in RWS after accidentally destroying the spiteful brakevan.) It applies here to trucks, but no doubt that's a value that motivates them in other areas, too. 

It's just worth remembering this, when it comes to Edward's stance re: Gordon. He's more subtle about it than James is. He sort of has to be (he cannot directly compete with Gordon, as James can). But he's still determined to not be beaten. 

Errr, but then Gordon triggers a chain of events that Edward could have never conceived of. The Fat Controller sends him to Tidmouth, Edward goes in with no idea what he's facing, and wham. We have the first of the two really severe strains on this relationship: 

Gordon came clanking past, hissing rudely[...] / "They all hiss me, Sir," answered Edward sadly. "They say 'Tender Engines don't shunt', and last night they said I had black wheels. I haven't, have I, Sir?" (~1927)

Two things to note here. This clash doesn't only represent Gordon's and Edward's differing views on what is proper to the dignity of an engine and what he owes to his railway. That's all The Author can see of it, of course… The Author being a human, and thus with a vested structural interest in vindicating Edward's point of view on this matter — and in mocking Gordon's view to scorn. This is why, so far as the book is concerned, Gordon and his two big-engine followers don't have a wheel to run on here. The Gordon position is portrayed as thoroughly unreasonable (even if, despite the narrative's best efforts, the text must admit that the Fat Controller does actually have to get a new tank engine – which was Gordon's demand all along!) 

Because of The Author's interest, there's no chance of any acknowledgment that the other tender engines' anger might have the slightest validity to it. However I think we are seeing another, parallel clash going down here:

Gordon naturally sees friendship as, well, as an Alliance. My friends are your friends and your enemies are my enemies. United we stand, together we fall. The problem is that while Edward is mild-mannered he's not a follower, like Henry and James – he has his own mind and he's not about to substitute Gordon's convictions for his own. Edward's idea of friendship is mutual sympathy and support. Emphasis here on mutual, because you just know that young Gordon was quite prepared to receive support (as his due!) but had trouble returning it. That's something Edward considers a serious insult… whereas his own idea of friendship simply has nothing to do with "how dare you cut the branch out from under me when I'm risking my tender leading collective action against management!" To Gordon that's a real betrayal. I suspect when Edward undercut his strike Gordon was genuinely hurt and felt a real righteous indignation – one that is never expressed in canon because to the Author there's nothing even slightly valid in Gordon's hurt. But canon (the Author, the railway, the whole institution of human society that made and employs these guys) does validate Edward's position that boasting and one-upmanship are hurtful, itself a sort of betrayal – which is a big problem, since for Gordon they're alarmingly close to a damn love language.

This is a position on which I feel no need to take sides. I know the Author's position. I think they just have irreconcilable values and that Gordon's values, while I don't share them, aren't just shit, either. I don't condone all his behavior here but I do think his idea of friendship is consistent over the course of the Wilbert books and that he would feel genuinely betrayed here. And if you've been betrayed then it makes sense that you are hurt and angry. 

What a mess. 

"Tender Engines do shunt, but all the same, you'd be happier in your own Yard." (~1927)

Guys, I'm telling ya, the Fat Controller knew what he was doing when he separated Edward from the other "great friends" after the events of TTRE. He knows. Letting Edward have distance from Gordon is policy. Pre-existing policy. Drafting Edward to Tidmouth was a last-ditch effort to avoid buying a tank engine but TFC is unsurprised when it takes less than one (1) day of proximity for Edward's "laugh 'im off" strategy to fail. Proximity causes the fragile Edward and Gordon relationship to collapse immediately – which inevitably means that it's Edward who gets hurt – and so Hatt is resigned to his new expenditure. Off to the engine orphanage. 

After Percy is brought in, Gordon et. al. are suitably punished, and equilibrium is restored, there is again a long period of relative peace between 2 and 4. And it's not because Gordon has lost his capability to be an asshat to others (see "Gordon's Whistle" and "Off the Rails" and "Duck Takes Charge" and – etc.) But Edward's defences are restored and he continues to reinforce them. Again in safety at his own station, he regains his ability to laugh knowingly and to gather intel for the oppo file: 

“It sounds like Gordon,” said Edward, “and it ought to be Gordon, but Gordon never whistles like that.” / It was Gordon. / … / He screamed through the station and disappeared. / “Well!!!” said Edward, looking at Henry. / “It isn’t wrong,” chuckled Henry, “but we just don’t do it,” and he told Edward what Gordon had said. (1935-6) 

After Henry's rebuild, there is a long "dark" period – end of Depression (including Gordon's rebuild) and WWII. During the course of the war the Thin Clergyman begins (and ends) his stint as publicity director for the NWR, and in 1945 TTRE is published. I reckon the focus on Edward, Henry, and Gordon reflects that this was a high-water mark in their friendship. The qualities and values that these three actually do have in common – duty, loyalty, determination – would have been at the forefront for those years. They would have faced a lot of very difficult days together, and together they got through them. The bond might have been heightened because frankly this is the sort of circumstance I can see them at their very best but the opposite being true for James, so there might have beena bit of "the old band getting back together" and re-bonding. In particular I can see Edward and Gordon during the war years learning to better appreciate the other's strengths. In 1945 you can easily imagine 'the three railway engines' looking ahead to a happy new era and genuinely believing that all their petty squabbles are in the past, they will never have problems between them again. 

Lmao. 

Well actually, of course, life goes on. By 1952 Gordon in particular is achieving brand-new levels of asshattery in the lead up to his ditch tourism. However, the interactions between him and Edward this year support my guess that this was a period of detente: 

“I won’t go, I won’t go,” grumbled Gordon. / “Don’t be silly, don’t be silly,” puffed Edward. (1952) 

This is their most obvious "tug-of-war" moment ever, but actually the stakes here are soooooo low lol. To me this is one of their cosiest and most comfortable interactions, actually. This is a rare case where they don't sound like stuffy, old-school, vaguely-to-explicitly dysfunctional colleagues. They just sound like siblings. For once they're being fairly frank with each other. 

Wait… what's this... for twice? 

1952 was a banner year for them, guys!

The engines in the Shed were excited and wondered who would pull the Royal Train. "I'm too old to pull important trains," said Edward sadly. / "I'm in disgrace," Gordon said gloomily. "The Fat Controller would never choose me." (1952) 

This is a remarkable moment in this dynamic. It's the only time Edward ever admits vulnerability in front of Gordon. Fascinating. 

I think it's extremely relevant here that Gordon has been in dire disgrace for what appears to be at least two months by this point. His status (though soon to be restored!) is currently nuked. Gordon's been in a very amiable frame of mind towards everyone. He has never been less of a threat.

It's also extremely probable that, even if this book was published first, this scene almost certainly takes place after EtBE. So earlier this same year where Gordon hits his lowest-ever status, Edward has hit his highest since Gordon arrived – the Fat Controller has overhauled him and Edward returned to an enthusiastic hero's welcome from the other engines. Everybody's drinking their respect Edward juice just then. 

So this is a very brief period where Edward does not seem to feel any need to keep a wall up around Gordon – nor the others. 

Now, with James and especially Henry, perhaps that wall never goes up again. But with Gordon, well. Let's just enjoy the moment. Presumably the whole royal visit prolonged this high point in their relationship even a bit longer. But it won't last. 

When Gordon and Henry heard about the accident, they laughed and laughed. "Fancy allowing cows to break his train! They wouldn't dare do that to us. We'd show them!" they boasted. / Edward pretended not to mind[.] (1952) 

Backtracking to earlier the same year. Gordon's acting an ass here – but not like the asshole of the tender engines' strike affair. We're back, not to insults, but to mere boasting. But... reminder that while Edward probably feels an insult keenly (he feels everything else keenly; why not this?), it's boasting that really seems to get under his paint.

I cannot overemphasize the line He pretended not to mind. 

Edward is not a pokerfaced engine! This is not natural behavior for him! He's the "why are you sad?" "hullo Edward, you look upset" "Where is Thomas??? peepipeeeep!!" guy. This is play-it-cool stuff is behavior he developed as a shield against Gordon. 

To be sure, we also see him employ it later this same book, this time against James: "Late again?" / Edward laughed, and James fumed away. The difference is – well, the need for the life-saving chase was pretty lucky, of course ;) but the real difference is that at the end of the affair James makes a real apology. As a result, the narrative tells us (doesn't show us, which is too bad, but I'm going to trust the telling), their old friendship is restored, strengthened even. Unfortunately making a real apology seems to be something completely beyond Gordon, at least at this point. And even if it wasn't, well, Edward never directly asks for one or complains about the behavior of the other engines to their faces. I don't know if Gordon is capable of apologizing to Henry either, but at least in that case Henry is going to be very loud and clear that he wants one. (This is probably at the bottom of the success of the 3+4 friendship. Gordon needs things spelled out for him – and Henry complains and grumbles without restraint, so Gordon will always be kept up to date on exactly where they stand.) Edward doesn't do that, perhaps can't do it because it violates his "never admit weakness in front of Gordon [or, in this one case, James]" defense mechanism. His remark referencing the "Old Iron" insult hints that he's ready for an apology – and James is able to take the hint and respond appropriately. Maybe that's why we've only ever seen Edward have to use the laughing pokerface strategy with James once, and we see him using it re: Gordon many times. 

Going back to "Cows." At the end of that story Edward needles Gordon the same way he later does James. Gordon responds, not so humbly and sincerely, but arguably a form of relationship repair happens: 

"Well, well, well!" chuckled Edward, "two big engines afraid of one cow!" / "Afraid – Rubbish," said Gordon huffily. We didn't want the poor thing to hurt herself by running against us. We stopped so as not to excite her. You see what I mean, my dear Edward." / "Yes, Gordon," said Edward gravely. / Gordon felt somehow that Edward "saw" only too well. (1952)

Well… they too are restored to their status quo. 

It's just that their postwar status quo is polite, passive-aggressive points-scoring. 

Now, at least it's civil! It sounds friendly. It sounds like there's mutual respect there. But...  

It's not enmity. But you might call them frenemies.

I also need to remind us that we are reading the above quote because it is in print. Post-war, there is a new factor playing in this dynamic, a nearly-invisible but probably incredibly important one: the Thin Clergyman keeps publishing one or two books about their goings-on, every damn year. His interviews and his publications have already stirred up all sorts of old history (notably Troublesome Engines came out like two years ago, so they got to re-live that pretty recently). But now the RWS has "caught up" to current events so the engines are having the interesting new experience of an account of their doings for the year coming out, like, right away. Everyone becomes famous, but this also means that the books (and The Author's take on them) are shaping more and more people's perceptions of these guys, who have enough foreign traffic on their railway in this era that they cannot be ignorant of this effect. You know what they say about fame: it takes already imperfect relationships, and makes 'em better! 😇 Wait, no, they definitely do not say that... There is no chance that this sort of meta "reality tv show" factor didn't affect their outlooks and relationships. 

Especially in a relationship like this. Where the Thin Clergyman's account of things heavily favors Edward, and rather severely trims Gordon's wheels. 

Ooooooooooooof. I don't even want to speculate about the details of how this play out, but just bear in mind that it's. there. 

Maybe it illuminates a lot of stuff going on in Duck and the Diesel. Including this… 

“[H]e told Edward what Gordon had said. / “Don’t take any notice,” soothed Edward, “he’s just jealous. He thinks no engine should be famous but him.” (1957) 

Erm. That's a pretty blunt assessment. Especially from an engine who usually has rose-colored glasses firmly attached. 

I've never heard Edward say anything negative before about… anything. Literally anything. Let alone an anyone. 

His prior remarks about Gordon always had the air of "haha… lol… Gordon, we love him of course 🙃…" There's no laugh here, no fondness, no attempt to soften things. 

Not that this bluntness is a bad thing, in and of itself. But if the goal of Edward's defences was initially to find a way to maintain a good relationship (and I think it sincerely was), then the last example, from DatDE, is a yellow flag. It's been over thirty goddamn years now, and Edward is not growing more accepting and comfortable with Gordon – the opposite, actually. I don't hear Edward being unfair to Gordon there, precisely, but I do seem to hear markedly less tolerance than before. 

And this is interesting, the hint that Edward is losing patience with Gordon. Because Gordon is actually engaged in a lot of self-improvement. 

Gordon's Growth 

He's been on a magical journey of character development, guys. 

And it started way before his book/1952. 

We see the little crocuses of Gordon's emerging awareness that Other Engines Have Something To Offer, Too almost from the get-go. I would count the fact that (back in 1923) it's Gordon who proposes that Henry is let out of the tunnel to try pulling his train. Which. Crazy idea, really. But even crazier because Gordon's been shown to have previously spent day upon day upon day whistling "Serves you riiiiiiiiight!" 

Honestly, this is yet another hint to me that Gordon comes across as way harsher than he means to. I almost called the above "openly taunting Henry." But honestly, given his immediate and unexplained turnaround by the end of the story… once again, I think Gordon was being judgey and blunt, but really had no idea that what he was doing was so hurtful. Or that other engines have, like, feelings. Real feelings. 

We see this pattern again and again. Gordon tells Edward "[I'll] be a splendid sight for you" and James "Ah well, we all have to begin somewhere, don't we? Run along now and fetch my coaches" and the two smaller engines, quite understandably, seem to say in their hearts oh my God, what an insufferable asshat. Meanwhile Gordon thinks he's being friendly. Or at least condescending (but, like, in the fun, benevolent way). Similarly, Gordon tells back-from-major-reconstructive-surgery Henry that he's been really letting the side down in, like, three different ways – and I bet if anyone had directly challenged him he would have sincerely been like "... What? What's the problem? I told him we were happy to have him back!" Even his spat with Henry that led to his boasting in "Off the Rails" began with what have may been genuinely mother-henning his friend. I would not be too shocked to learn that Gordon gets twinges of unease that he never examines every so often when he sees Henry with a train and has a subconscious flashback to their fears for Henry's life after the Kipper accident. Altogether, there seems to so often be a good and commendable instinct on Gordon's part – it's just that for the longest time he doesn't seem to have a clue about how to transmute those instincts into something that other engines are going to find legible. And then if he gets even slight pushback his good instincts collapse and he reverts to his childish "meee! meeeeeeee! 😤���" instincts. 

It's a slow hard slog for him to learn how to Use His Words and Relate To Others, but we do get to see progress. And it starts early! He makes friends with James after James successfully takes the Express (1925-6) – and it's really quite a gracious overture. He, along with James, sympathises with Henry after the elephant incident (the Author, of course, explicitly denigrates this, suggests that it was purely a matter of politicking and scheming and that it would have been healthier to have mocked Henry, the way the proletariat should always be cutting each other down at the slightest opportunity, really sticking the boot in each other's neck gratis. But hell with that! Lmao. Catch me ever swallowing Management's narrative about how their striking workers banded together. Anyway, even if I granted for the sake of argument that Gordon was faking his sympathy, well, I mean. Gordon faking sympathy is still #Growth. Fake it till you make it!) He is also friendly and kind when he rescues Percy from the Big Bank of Earth – he indeed shows so much tact that he finds something to give Percy credit for, instead of saying (which would have been true) "This is all your fault, dumbass…" 

"Off the Rails" represents a bad week or so for him, but the incidents in the rest of Gordon's book don't show us a newly humbled Gordon – more just a recently re-humbled one. His behavior to James is perfectly in line with those previous incidents. His behavior to Thomas doesn't come out of nowhere either… although in that one Gordon is trialling some new material: 

“I’m sorry I was cheeky,” said Thomas. / “That’s all right, Thomas. You made me laugh. I like that. I’m in disgrace,” Gordon went on pathetically. “I feel very low.” (1952) 

We all see what's new here?

1) The Alliance. Now, Gordon putting words to it (and words that make it into the RWS) is new. The concept overall is not new; this seems to be a verbalization of an attitude that Gordon has adopted long ago. As I argued above, this is just Gordon's whole concept of friendship. It is worth pointing out, though, that he never before extended this concept to tank engines. (He could condescend to them. Not offer them alliance and equality, though. Therefore didn't get upset when Thomas didn't "understand" his concerns as A Tender Engine, either. There was no expectation of a pact. Not back then. It's only now that this changes.) 

As the next decade or so goes on, we're going to see that Gordon (and Henry) seem to continue extending this implicit alliance to every steam engine. (Diesels, after that whole disastrous introduction to them via the most devious of engines, are a sort of last barrier.) Think "We engines have our differences, but we'd never talk about them to the trucks." Think Gordon laughing with Stepney and Duck over their triumph with "the heavy train." Think of rallying around Donald and Douglas when they learn there is a threat of scrap. That concept of alliance that was once limited between the big engines (plus or minus Edward, depending) is now extended. It doesn't mean that there are never conflicts or clashes within the ranks, of course! But it does mean that there's a new attitude spreading on this railway. This book is where we see the first sign of Gordon spearheading it. I wouldn't say he gets credit for creating or implementing it all himself – but he does deserve credit in the sense that, if he had not whole-heartedly bought into this idea, it wouldn't have become entrenched on the main line. 

2) Vulnerability. I directed attention in the previous section to the way that Edward will not admit weakness in front of Gordon. Gordon has something similar… but worse. Until this point, Gordon would not admit vulnerability to anyone. At most would complain, or try to make some "objective" case as to why he is ill-used. 

That isn't what happens in this exchange. He doesn't make the slightest argument for himself, he doesn't object to being in disgrace. He simply owns, aloud, that it sucks. I feel very low. 

There are other indicators that this is not a one-off, that Gordon is simply coming to terms with the reality that he is, basically, a sensitive soul: 

One day Gordon saw [Sir Handel] shunting, and laughed. / “My Controller makes me shunt,” Sir Handel said sheepishly, “and take trucks to quarries too. I’m highly sprung, and I suffer dreadfully.” / “Our Controllers don’t understand our feelings,” sympathised Gordon. (195…5?) 

This isn't as vulnerable as the Thomas case – Gordon's not feeling Very Low in that moment, after all – but it is very intriguing. In a previous book, Sir Handel treated Gordon like they were equals, which left Gordon "speechless." As well it might! And now, when Gordon meets up with him again, he does have the upper wheel: He catches out Sir Handel not being so very express-enginey after all! But when Gordon laughs at him, Sir Handel owns up to his embarrassment. And this is exactly how you get Gordon's best side. When you're vulnerable, he stops acting the bully, and he's sympathetic. Very similar to the case from "Percy Runs Away." But this time, Gordon seems to be going a half-step further than just claiming the role of benevolent patron. "Our Controllers don't understand our feelings." He really does cement Sir Handel's claim to equal fellowship. 

It's probably not mere politeness, though, that makes Gordon sympathize. He's revealing something important here about his inner life. When Gordon is seen as his most proud and demanding, he is actually troubled and upset – putting up a very good thick front over it, though. 

We will see confirmation that he's a creature of Feels again in 1968, after he spends a whole page (that's a lot of time, in RWS-land) unable to express more than "I'm not happy" – which the other Tidmouth engines ignore or treat as a superficial complaint because, well, they just had no reason to think that Gordon would ever be like this: 

Gordon backed down on his train, hissing mournfully. / “Cheer up, Gordon!” said The Fat Controller. / “I can’t, Sir. The others say I’ve got boiler-ache, but I haven’t, Sir. I keep thinking about the Dreadful State of the World, Sir. Is it true, Sir, what the diesels say?” / “What do they say?” / “They boast that they’ve abolished Steam, Sir.” / “Yes, Gordon. It is true.” / “What, Sir! All my Doncaster brothers, drawn the same time as me?” (1968) 

*dramatic gesture* Gordon the “I Just Want a Little Goddamn Sympathy” Engine, ladies and gentlemen. 

Returning to our overall topic, this is an interesting similarity between Gordon and Edward. Despite their numerous and obvious differences, they both have a lot of Feelings – like, to the point where it’s a burden, and figuring out what to do with ‘em drives their respective character arcs. 

Being them, of course, they approach the problem from opposite directions, lol. Edward is basically toughening up, and starting to adopt the role of an elder/mentor (he does this a lot later than I gather people think he does, and in more limited circumstances. But you do gradually see him becoming less A Normal, Emotive Peer and more of A Sympathetic Listener, One Half Step Removed from Ordinary Engine Life, Giving and Not Asking For Support). Gordon has almost the reverse assignment. He's opening up, and gradually learning how to come down from his high horse and be on a level with others. 

Once Gordon learns how to use his words to express himself like a rational being, he starts being able to form much healthier bonds with others. (I didn’t say with everyone. And I didn’t say they were perfectly healthy. Just… healthier than some of his past bullshit, lol.) 

And, when Gordon gets the kind of support he needs, he becomes much less of a pain in the arse. This arc continues all the way through to the Christopher Awdry books. 

To the extent that, as of Main Line Engines, he IS still a pain in the ass… well, I think we can infer that he hasn’t yet got that support network quite in place. 

Ironically, ‘emotional support’ is a real strength of Edward’s. It’s something we’ve seen him lend generously to a laundry list of other engines… and something we never see him offer Gordon. 

For obvious reasons. Gordon burned him so many times before and (the key commonality, of course) Edward is sensitive, too. It’s always obvious that he feels things keenly and takes things hard. His character arc has a lot to do with channeling that sensitivity into action and learning to build more backbone. 

It's on a collision course with Gordon's character arc, which is about connecting with and owning his feelings and learning how to express them. 

We can see the crash coming in part to, again, the absence of what we see between them in this pre-60s era. Gordon has repeatedly proven that he can be a very good friend, when an engine is down (Percy, James, Thomas, Sir Handel). This is a great footing for Gordon to show his best and most generous side. 

Unfortunately Edward's entire strategy for dealing with Gordon since at least 1925 has been about NOT showing any weakness in front of him. A strategy he's followed with great success. 

So it's no surprise, that both characters are growing and developing, but that their relationship is growing more and more hollow. 

It's no surprise… but it is aggravating. 

And the thing that makes you want to tear your hair out the most? Gordon – Mr. Oblivious himself – has no idea anything's wrong.

And, honestly, watching Edward getting slyer and slyer about forever keeping Gordon squarely on the back foot is a joy… I’m so proud of him… even as part of me groans because, funny though this is, they could have had something even better. 

Let’s take a closer look at MLE. They’ve both spent decades now dosing on ‘character development.’ Unfortunately those arcs are on trajectory to criss-cross – and the smash-up happens here.

[kiwakiol]

Part 2

Okay this idea is not letting me alone so I will add some more ideas I had. It's again way to late (2am). This Is more of a telling the a story. (Also free to use this for inspo if someone wants to turn this in a fanfic) 

Disclaimer : I'm Dislexic

Part 1

Hugh wakes up in Wades one room apartment in Logan's body, I would say about 1-2 months after the D&W movie. The fist thing he noticed is that every seems slightly different and he is hit with Logan's enhanced sense. Like everything is more vibrant he hears a lot of small things and not to forget the smells, I imagine that Wades apartment dose have a lot of strong smells that are not necessarily bad but just extrem. So Hugh needs to adjust to that fist and and than realize he is not in his home but a room that looked a lot like the Filme set from the Deadpool movies. 

When he makes his way out of the room he is in another room that he finds oddly familiar he is hit with a extem sweet smell that he follows. Wade is in the kitchen making some breakfast unaware that his Logen was replaced with the Australian actor Hugh Jackman. Hugh on the other hand is more the confused why (what he assumed is Ryan in his Deadpool make up) was standing in front of him.  They were finish with film a long time ago? He is beyond confused. Wade finally noticed that  Hugh has entered kitchen and greets him with something like "Morning Honeybadger. How did my favorite miserable X-Men sleep?" What confuses Hugh even more.

"Why are was the film set? And why are you in full make up Ryan?" Hugh question the man I from of him who just stared at him with unbelieving eyes. "Are you messaging with me, Wolvie? I mean I appreciate that you try to fit my vibe but the 4 wall braking is my thing. I'm am impressed that you remember that I told you they I'm played by Ryan Reynolds, if I had a star sticker I would give it to you for good effort."

Hugh still not understanding what was happening just look at Wade, silence field the room. "Is this suppose to be at Prank Ryan ? You know I love you and all but that a bit much. Built up the complete fire set and all. You know I'm currently working on a completely different movie..."  Hugh stop himself trying to figure out the face of the man that looked at him realizing it was full of shock 

Wade started to feel like this wasn't a joke and the man in front of him was genuinely confused. "Wait do you actually think I'm Ryan Reynolds? "

"Yeah of course, wo else would you be, you know I appreciate your little joke but this is a lit far what is even supposed to be the pranked? " said Hugh still looking at Wade who was starting to loose even more of his already lost mind. -Okay everything is cool- he thought to himself. He knew Logen wasn't one to make this kind of jokes, this jokes where his thing. Which meant that this was probably not his Logen, if he was even Logen, considering he called him Ryan this only could mean one thing "Wail your Hugh Jackman?!"

To how they could swap bodys maybe something paradox related I read a few fanfic where he came back to mess with Logan and Wade, or something went wronywit the timeline and now they have to figure out how to fix it. Maybe they try to contact the TVA or the X-Men to help.

Some prompt like idea:

- Wade desperately trying to explain Hugh that he is actually Wade. 

- Hugh being way to overwhelmd by all the new things he can hear/ smell

- Wade asking Hugh all kind of things about our world.

- Logens realization that his complete life is nothing more then a movie to entertain people in or world

- Ryan has to get used to Logen not being as calm and silly as Hugh.

- Logen seeing videos of Hugh and is surprised how joyful he is

- Logan bring pissed and confused why his claws don't come out and of no healing factor means he has to figure out how to be more careful in general.

- Ryan and Logan at Disneyland

- Ryan realizing that the multiverse exists and is not only a movie.

- Hugh experiences the horrors of 3 adamantium claws popping from his knuckles 

- Hugh being worried about Wade being hurt because he is not use to people just healing 

I will do a part 3 if I get any more ideas, no promises though. This entire idea just came from me daydreaming to music because I can't sleep.

[sweetbillwriting]

The Key To His Heart - VII

Characters: AU Bill Skarsgård where his life changes in 2013 and later 2019.

Setting: L.A, 2024 but in an alternative universe with Bill having a completely different life.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: It took some time for me to write this chapter but it feels like inspiration is back and I will have more time in December.

Bill could feel the smile on his lips already when he woke up. It felt like the sun was shining on him even if the dark curtains didn't allow any light in. He could see Sienna's face in his mind just as clearly as if she had been lying next to him, and it made him stretch out a hand to feel if she was there. The only thing his hand met was the edge of his laptop, still upright and opened. Like teenagers, they hadn't been able to say goodbye to each other and instead slept next to each other. They had played some sort of horny, silly game where they prepared for bed together and also could show their naked bodies to each other. They really were like teenagers, and Bill could still feel a stiffness in his member. She was so beautiful, and he couldn't understand why she was so shy about letting him see her body, especially the scar from her c-section. He loved it; it showed a story, a part of her, and he couldn't wait to drag his fingertips over it. He looked at the laptop screen, seeing that she had left the chat. He wasn't surprised because she had probably left her son in school and gone to her other job, as a babysitter to a rich family’s two-year-old son. Being a painter didn't always give her enough money to support herself, so she worked for them when it was needed. He was impressed by how she didn't let her dream go, even if it was hard. Her passion was sexy in his eyes.

Bill stood up from bed, still naked after their little game, and walked to the shower. He couldn't stop thinking about Sienna, so he didn't even think about needing to date six other women. Or now it was seven, but he didn't know that until he walked down to the kitchen for breakfast with them all and met Sandra by the stairs.

She had gone home to take care of her father, who had fallen down the stairs, but now she stood there with glowing red hair in a simple white dress. She was beautiful, but nothing could compare to Sienna, even if she most often was dressed in a big t-shirt and soft shorts when they were talking. Bill once again realized how much he actually liked her; he didn't even look at other women the same way anymore.

“Hey?” He said, confused, while walking down the stairs. Sandra looked up at him with a smile.

“I'm back..!” She sang playfully and turned towards Bill, who scratched behind his ear. One more woman to disappoint.

“Yeah.” He forced a smile, but she didn't seem to notice and stretched out her hand towards him. Bill took it doubtfully and gave her a friendly hug.

“How is your father?”

“He’s okay. Now. Or okay enough, he thought I should come back here, so I did.”

Bill smiled, surprised. He couldn't really see how a father could encourage his daughter to fight against other women for a man. He himself thought his daughters were way too good for that.

“Don't let him be wrong,” she teased and twirled her hair between her fingers. Bill laughed, an acted laugh, but then looked towards the kitchen, where he could see Esmeralda looking at them. A lump formed in Bill's stomach. He really didn't want to fool them, but he felt obligated. He just needed to get this done. The next day he would go to New Jersey and finally have Sienna in his arms.

Bill said good morning to all of them but lingered on Esmeralda, who watched him with a warm smile. She would have been the girl he would have picked in the end; he could feel it in his bones, but everything changed the day Sienna came to his bedroom. He hadn't even given her his full attention before that, but everything changed then and there because he could feel himself becoming the man he actually wanted to be by just being in her presence.

“Do you want some coffee?” Asked Rose sweetly, and he looked down at the short girl.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be great,” he answered with a small smile. Coffee was exactly what he needed. Or a whiskey.

They sat down by his long dinner table for breakfast. He could hear them all small talk but not about what. For some paranoid seconds, he imagined them talking about him and Sienna but shook that off.

“Ehm, Bill?”

He looked up at Tiffany’s friendly face next to him. She looked embarrassed, but he realized quickly it was secondhand embarrassment for him.

“You've spilled some yogurt on your shirt…”

He looked down on his dark blue t-shirt, where now dripples of white yogurt stained his chest. He had been too lost in his own thoughts and sighed loudly. He knew he could be clumsy but had hoped it wouldn't come out in front of the women, and especially not be shown on TV.

“Fuck…” He took his napkin to try to rub it away, but a white stain stayed there and reminded him how bad his situation was.

Odette stopped next to him, looking at the stain then his face. She had an envelope between her fingers but was doubtful if she should give it to him at that moment. Bill gave her a strained smile and took the envelope. Better to just get it done. He stood up after he had opened it and read out loud:

“Good morning! No one has missed that you seven women here again, and we welcome Sandra back to the Skarsgård residence…” Bill looked up at Sandra, and some of the girls gave her a halfhearted applaud. No one was really happy to see her, but Bill was the only one who succeeded in looking like he was.

“To welcome her back, she will be the woman going out with Bill on this day.”

Bill looked up and met Violet's eyes. She didn't look that happy at all, and he had heard from Herman that she was annoyed they would once again be leaving his home that weekend. Bill thought to himself that she would have been even more upset if she knew his plans for the weekend. Bill then looked at Maria, who instead looked at Sandra. He could see irritation in her eyes while Sandra just smirked, pleased. He thought to himself that the competition really brought out the worst in the women.

×××

Sandra is back, and I must go out on a date with her. I don't even know her, really. Is she nice? She gives me a bad feeling, but maybe that's just because I don't want to be here.

He sent the message to Sienna and got a quick answer back.

She's nice, but I think she's been a bit irritated that she hasn't gotten so much attention from you. She seems to be irritated with many of the girls also. And she hated that I always sang haha.

Bill smirked to himself while he dressed for the date. He had heard her sing those times they left their call on while they were doing mundane things. She could hit notes, but it was nothing special. It hadn't annoyed him at all and didn't become more than just a background sound.

They continued their conversation, mostly about Sienna's work day and plans for the weekend, while Bill made himself ready for the date. Talking to Sienna made it easier, and it felt less like he cheated on her.

He met Sandra on the porch. They had been told to dress up, but he wasn't prepared for her to wear a long-sleeved sequin dress in silver. He himself wore a light gray suit and a white t-shirt to dress it down a bit. She smiled brightly at him and stood up on her toes in her silver heels to kiss his cheek.

“I've looked forward so much to this!” She said excitedly and took his hand in hers. It was obvious she was really comfortable with touching him, a thing not many of the girls had been. Bill smiled and hugged her hand in his.

“Me too; it feels like we haven't talked that much, and then you left and Sienna and—”

He swallowed hard. Why did he bring Sienna up? Oh right, because he couldn't stop thinking about her and probably just searched for a reason to talk about her.

“...It has been a lot, but now you're back and things will probably calm down,” he added, laughing a little to cover up his mistake. Sandra smiled and laughed too. They were driven in a limousine to their dating spot, a big yacht decorated with fairy lights; light Sandra's sequin dress caught.

“Oh my god! That's so pretty!” Said Sandra and took his hand while they moved to the boat. Bill just smiled and once again thought about Sienna. He knew she had promised her son pizza that night just because he would be sleeping at his grandma's place the whole weekend, so the two of them could have alone time. He looked at Sandra's beautiful profile and then at the yacht. He would rather eat greasy pizza with Sienna and her little son.

Sandra and Bill talked about light subjects, like fashion because of her work and literature because of his work. She was cultivated and intelligent, but still Bill didn't feel a thing. He had always been a monogamist, and when he liked a woman, everyone else faded into the background. He knew it was what was happening; Sienna had taken over his mind, and in such a short time she had wrapped him around her finger.

“So Sienna also left?” Sandra suddenly asked. It felt like he hadn't been completely present until he heard her name, and he looked at Sandra with big eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” He answered and nodded slowly. “Personal reasons...” he added and continued to nod. Sandra looked at him in silence. She looked after microexpressions because even if Bill was a good actor, he had shown something when he said Sienna's name. A flash of something had come over his otherwise neutral expression. He could smile and laugh with them all, but this was another positive feeling that was shown in his eyes that she hadn't seen before but that she now could see again.

“Were you disappointed?”

“Hm?” Bill looked at Sandra, trying to win time, and Sandra instead realized she needed to broaden her question to not make it seem like she accused him of something.

“Did you get disappointed when both of us left?”

“Of course. I hadn't spoken much with anyone of you, and Sienna chose to leave-”

Bill swallowed hard. Once again, he had led the conversation to Sienna. “And you were probably in distress because of your father…”

He played around with his food on the plate.

On a boat near them sat Herman in front of a screen, seeing Bill's obvious discomfort, and bit his fist. He could see on Sandra's face that she was suspicious of his behavior. Herman could also see that his friend was really trying to act interested in the date, but Sandra was too quick with reading him.

“Have you even talked?” Asked Sandra after a minute of silence. Bill looked up at her. The candlelight reflected in his big green eyes, and he licked his plump lips. His beauty made Sandra just irritated at that moment, and she crossed her arms.

“Not much when she was here, but everything changed-” Bill sighed deeply. He should have pretended like he didn't understand her question, but his heart seemed to want to talk instead of his head. “Fuck…” he said and dragged his hands over his face.

Sandra scoffed and shook her head in disbelief.

“I came back to a guy who’s hung up on a girl who actually left? By her own choice?”

“It's not that easy,” said Bill with an apologetic voice and looked at her stressed when she stood up from the chair.

“I guess not because here we are, even if you clearly aren't interested in anyone other than her!”

“It wasn't planned, and the production-”

“Bill, Bill, Bill…” Shouted a cameraman and stopped him from talking. Bill looked at them in belief they had stopped filming.

“We don't talk about the production,” continued the cameraman with a headset on, clearly getting directions from someone else. Bill sighed and looked at Sandra, who sat down but with crossed arms.

“Turn this boat around or I will report you for kidnapping,” she said determingly. Bill looked at her, then the cameraman. A few minutes later, the boat turned around.

“I'm sorry, Sandra…” said Bill lowly and dragged a hand over his neck.

“Yeah, yeah. All men are assholes after all,” she accused bitterly. Bill didn't say anything because it wasn't worth the debate. He was, after all, a bit of an asshole.

×××

Bill was really nervous the next morning that Sandra would have spilled the beans to all the women and he would meet an angry mob when he walked down the stairs, but there was nothing like that. Once again, he took his round of saying goodbye to them before they would leave. Neither seemed to be upset. Maria looked hurt though when he moved away when she tried to kiss him, and she wasn't the only one who tried doing that. Esmeralda also tried when she sat down in his lap in her bed. Bill smiled strained when she moved up in his lap, feeling her thigh push against his crotch. He moved carefully so she wouldn't sit as close.

“Is it something?” She asked nervously when he moved, so she sat further out on his thigh.

“No, no. It was just uncomfortable,” he said with a low chuckle.

“Oh,” she laughed softly and dragged her hand over his back.

“It feels like we haven't got so much time together this week. Like, I kind of thought I was your favorite,” she teased and gave him a small smirk. Bill laughed and scratched his ear in discomfort, but Esmeralda just interpreted that as him not being able to talk about that. She knew he couldn't say what he felt in that way, but she was quite sure she was his favorite. It was either she or Tiffany.

“Will you get home this weekend?” He asked, and Esmeralda made a face.

“Yeah, I guess I must. I would rather stay here, with you.”

Bill smiled but felt his heart beat due to bad conscience.

“Yeah…” he said and nodded a little.

“But I understand you want to see your daughters. Of course. And I want to see my son,” she continued, and Bill continued to nod.

“I know you can't talk about your date with Sandra, but... She is a weird one.” Esmeralda lowered her voice like she was afraid someone would hear her. Bill swallowed hard, once again afraid Sandra had said something.

“She acted this morning like she knew you would pick her or something and told us that “we're just here because you can't force us out." Esmeralda laughed in disbelief, shaking her head. She was sure Bill didn't have an interest in Sandra, so Sandra's words didn't make sense. Bill furrowed his brows and faked confusion. He laughed a little, even if he knew Sandra meant something else.

“I can't really talk about this with you, but... That was a strange thing to say,” he just said and patted Esmeralda's thigh. He did it as some sort of apology but stopped when he thought about Sienna. Even such a thing felt wrong.

“It's time to say good-bye now,” he said and demonstratively looked at his watch. Esmeralda nodded and leaned in to kiss his lips, but Bill steered his face away and gave her a hug. Esmeralda tried again, but Bill did the same thing. She looked at him confused and smiled a little, wondering what had changed.

Bill took a deep breath before going to Sandra's room, afraid it would turn into a confrontation, but met an empty room. He wondered silently if she would come back. It didn't really matter if he was honest.

×××

Bill took the flight to New Jersey later that day, a six-hour flight that made his back hurt and his knees sore from the seat in front of him. He hated flying coach and rarely did, but it had been the flight that would have taken him to New Jersey the fastest, where Sienna would wait for him at the airport. While waiting on his suitcase by the conveyor belt, his nerves started to itch his skin. Maybe it would be totally different in reality? Maybe he wouldn't feel a thing? Was it possible it was just a hangup and he would regret every sweet word he had said to her? He almost missed his suitcase because of his loud thoughts but took it and moved towards the exit where Sienna would wait for him, even if his nerves pulled him in all different directions.

He didn't see her at first, and he joked with himself that she had left when she had seen him. He didn't really want to confess to himself; it was a real worry, but it was just then he saw her. She wore a white tube top and a denim skirt, perfectly matching his white t-shirt and jeans, and had her shoulder-length hair up in a half-updo. She smiled brightly, and Bill could feel how his nerves changed from pessimistic to optimistic and almost drunkenly excited. She was gorgeous. He felt his heart beat like a drum in his chest and his fingers around the handle of his suitcase shook. Was he in love already? Could it be so fast?

“Hey…” said Sienna shyly and looked up at his broad smile. She giggled a little, and he felt his confidence go up.

“Hey Sienna,” he said and played with the handle of his suitcase. They watched each other closely, just as full of hormones as teenagers, and Bill finally dared to lay his hand on her cheek and bend down to kiss her glossy lips. She giggled excitedly into the kiss, and Bill smiled and kissed her again more determined. He let his forehead linger against hers and looked into her hazel eyes.

“Shit Sienna… God, what are you doing to me?”

She smiled brightly, and this time she took the initiative to kiss him, but Bill was the one to deepen it, so they stood and made out way too intimately at the airport. It felt like they had waited so long to be near each other, even if it was just two weeks. They already knew so much about each other; still, this was the first time they actually touched each other. Bill felt a stir in his lower belly and knew it was time to stop. He made a humming sound when they pulled away from each other, and Sienna dragged her hands over his muscular chest.

“Wow,” she said with almost a moan, and Bill smiled playfully. He had thought he knew what he searched for in the show, but this was so much more. None of the other girls had been close to making him feel this way. It felt like he was flying while they walked hand in hand to Sienna's little Kia.

×××

Bill didn't care that they lived different kinds of lives, that he earned more money, had a more luxurious lifestyle, and lived bigger, but it was obvious Sienna was embarrassed when he looked around in her small one-bedroom apartment. The bedroom was her son's room, a kid's bed, and a desk with zebra toys standing in a row, from biggest to smallest. One of the walls was covered with Winnie the Pooh with friends. It was made by Sienna, and Bill smiled to himself. The living room was so small her couch stood in line with her bed. She had a smaller TV, but otherwise the living room was full of canvases, both painted and empty ones.

“I've tried to find a bigger apartment, but..." She stretched the truth while trying to find a place for Bill's suitcase. Her eyes were downcast, gazing at the floor the whole time. Bill took her hand in his and pulled her close to his body.

“You really inspire me, you know that?” He said it with a smile. Sienna furrowed her brows and laughed in disbelief.

“Yeah? Thinking about writing about someone poor?” She laughed again and looked away. Bill took hold of her chin and gave her a kiss.

“You fight for your dream and do it well. You work hard and embrace your talent.”

Sienna smiled with a blush and then kissed him again.

“You explained yourself now.”

Bill chuckled and shook his head.

“Shut up.”

“Did you tell me to shut up?” She said, amused, and looked at him with big eyes.

“Yes.” He looked at her with sultry eyes and then kissed her passionately. Sienna let go of his suitcase so it fell to the floor and as she drowned in his kiss. A few seconds she wanted to cry because she had given up meeting a man like him, but the lust took over when his lips moved down her neck and chest. His lips were so soft and full, nothing like any man she had been with before. She breathed heavily and dragged her hands over his chest and upper arms, wanting to feel skin but couldn't find it. Bill understood what she searched for and pulled off his t-shirt fast so his hair got messed up. It didn't matter though because Sienna dragged her hands through it while they kissed, then daring to touch his broad chest and abs. She moaned by seeing and touching his body finally, but Bill thought it was his kisses. He, in his turn, pulled down her top together with her strapless bra and dragged his hands over her chest. When he realized he couldn't kiss her breast without bending down uncomfortably, he pulled her up over his hips and carried her to the queen-sized bed in the corner. He sucked her nipple until it got stiff and then nibbled it lightly. Sienna didn't know what to do with herself when she looked down at Bill. He was so gorgeous and now made her feel her panties stick to her skin. Maybe it was too early to sleep with him, but she didn't care. It felt right. 

Garment after garment was pulled off until they could finally see every part of their skin. Sienna swallowed hard by seeing his physique. He didn't have anything to be ashamed of; he was broad, slim, and big in the right places. She followed the lines on his hips down to his member with her fingers while he stood on his knees between her legs. She smiled with a blush but became uncomfortable when Bill moved down and started kissing the scar on her lower belly. 

“You're so beautiful,” he said when he noticed her tense up. 

“Not there,” she said with a laugh. She tried to sound like she was joking, but her voice was full of doubt. 

“Everywhere…” he answered and kissed the scar again. Sienna smiled and relaxed under his lips but tensed up later for other reasons, his lips right where she wanted them…  

××× 

They lay together tightly between Sienna’s cherry-red sheets. She didn't want anything else than to lie like that with him but was almost afraid to do so. He had become hard twice now, while they cuddled and gave her a hard pounding instead, so hard she now was sore. She had loved it, but now she wanted to lay just like that, on his chest, dragging her finger tips over his soft skin. 

“I haven't… Been intimate with anyone for several years,” she confessed suddenly, and Bill looked down at her while she looked up. 

“Actually, I haven't been with anyone since I was with my son's father…” 

Bill dragged his fingers through her hair, waiting for her to tell him about it her way.

“I guess you've understood he isn't a part of our life…” 

Bill nodded a little but didn't say anything; letting her continue with her own words. 

“I was 22 when I got pregnant. We had been together for two years, but... I was the other woman. He was married, and I waited for him for two years…” 

She talked with a low gaze but didn't cry, even if Bill wouldn’t have minded if she had needed to. He swallowed hard. Cheating was a big no-no for him, but he could see in this situation that Sienna was young, in love, and naive. She also seemed to understand that it was a bad decision. 

“He said he would leave his wife and be with us, but... It never happened. I waited and waited... Ah shit, stupid, stupid… I really thought he would leave her even if he didn't even contact me anymore. I just… Waited. Then he showed up one day, just like that, divorced and suddenly wanted a new chance. But when he realized his son wasn't ‘normal,' he left again.” Sienna shook her head, like all of it was silly. Bill looked at her carefully and finally spoke up. 

“We all do stupid shit when we're in love... He sounds like a fucking idiot, though... Who wouldn't want to be with you?” 

Sienna looked up at him with a smile, but it fell slowly. 

“Sometimes I can't sleep because I just think about his wife, or his ex-wife, I mean. It feels like I should say I'm sorry, but I also can imagine that she doesn't want to meet me, not think about me. I don't know if she knows about me or that her husband has a son behind her back. I don't really know anything. Just his side of it.” 

“No… I don't think either is a good idea to say you're sorry; what's done is done, and she has moved on and so have you. Don't beat up on yourself because of that. It wasn't you who broke her heart; it was him.” 

Sienna nodded a little and moved up so she could kiss Bill's lips, then she laid down next to him.

“The weird feeling is that I can't regret it because I got a son from it, you know? My worst decision ever gave me the person I love the most in the entire world.”

Bill smiled a little, then he looked up at the ceiling, he was thinking about something, and Sienna stayed quiet so he could catch his thoughts. 

“I felt the same. I was only 22 when Kate got pregnant. She was a student in Toronto, where I was filming, and we… Hooked up a few times. I really liked her, but I couldn't see it as something serious. I lived in a suitcase and dreamed about having a big acting career, and then... ‘Im pregnant.’ I wasn't prepared at all. I had just started my career and wanted to party, travel, take drugs…” He laughed to himself and rubbed his eye. “I just thought ‘abortion’. ‘Abortion, abortion, abortion' but she didn't want to do that. She said she would do everything by herself, but that didn't feel good at all, so... I moved to Toronto full time. We weren't a couple or anything at first, but we fell in love during the process, and, yeah, we became a real family.” Sienna looked at Bill with big eyes. She felt honored that he told her about it, something he hadn't talked about in interviews or shared in any other way. 

“When did you get married?” 

“2014. Like a year after our oldest was born. Her family was much more conservative than mine, so... Not that I didn't want to get married to her. I loved her so much, but I didn't really understand why it was so important. I kind of understood it when she left us, though... Me and the girls inherited everything, and all the costs and so on fell on me. It was easy and gave us time to grieve instead…” 

Sienna looked at him with big eyes, and he could see that she had questions. 

“It's okay that you ask things; I just don't like talking with strangers about it all.” 

"Ehm,” she looked down because she felt a bit awkward asking anyway, but after a while she took the courage to do it. 

“Your youngest is born in 2019, the year Kate also died... Was she pregnant while she was sick?” 

Bill nodded; he sat up against the wall, and Sienna did the same with her eyes on his profile. 

“Yeah, they found the tumors while she was pregnant, and she refused to end the pregnancy and get chemo. They said she could probably wait until after the birth with it, but it grew faster than they thought and-” He took a deep breath, and Sienna crawled closer to him and took his hand in hers. Bill's eyes were shiny, but he closed them instead of letting the tears fall. “She died two months after the birth.” Sienna hugged his side, and Bill finally let the tears run down his cheeks. When he had taken some deep breaths, Sienna dared to ask her next question. 

“What kind of cancer was it?” 

“Ehm, brain cancer. It had already spread when they found it.” 

Sienna nodded and dragged her hand over his chest. Both of them carried a painful story, but his was heavier, and she could understand why he had been single for such a long time. 

“But why did you become a writer and not an actor?” She asked after a while of just breathing together. The question lightened the mood, and Bill smirked a little. 

“I guess it's just a coincidence? My plan was to be an actor. I have acted since I was a kid, and my family are actors, but during the pregnancy I started to write, and Kate pushed me to send it to a publisher and... One thing led to another. I don't think I would be a writer if I hadn't met Kate. I would probably continue to act if I got roles,” he said with a smirk. Sienna looked at him amused. 

“I watched everything I could find with you. It was just a couple, but—” 

“No? What? No?” He interrupted her and laughed uncomfortably. “Shit that series was... Fuck, it was so fucking silly in the end!” He laughed and dragged his hands through his hair. Sienna laughed at his uncomfortable behavior and shrugged her shoulders. 

“You were cute, though. I did like Simple Simon a lot.” 

Bill looked at her with a warm smile and nodded a little. He could understand why, and in that moment he was also thankful he had done that role; his understanding of autism was thanks to that role. Simon would always be with him, and he hoped he could get his help when he met Sienna's son. 

For a few seconds, they just looked at each other with understanding smiles. It felt like they had a bond they didn't have before, a respect for each other that didn't come so easily. Both of them then made the move to kiss deeply, softly, and lovingly all at the same time. Their feelings were like fire crackers in their chests. 

××× 

The weekend was full of romance and silly newly in love activities, but still no one of them dared to say what they were actually feeling. It was too soon, and even when they stood at the airport close together, neither of them said anything, even if both of them could feel the words tickle their throats. Instead, they kissed some more and hugged goodbye as close as they could. Sienna did have worry weighing on her chest, something Bill didn't have, but he wasn't the one knowing she would go home to seven other men. He would go home to seven women who all wanted to crawl down in his bed. Sienna felt she could trust Bill to not play with her heart, but she was worried he would fall for one of the others instead, like Esmeralda. No one had missed that they had chemistry, but she also forced down those feelings while saying goodbye; she didn't want their last time together to be spent talking about other women. Slowly they let go of each other, and then Bill left her standing by herself in the big hall. He turned to look at her and thought to himself that as soon as he could, he would make his home to hers.

××× 

Even if Bill was bigger, taller, and stronger than all the people by his dinner table, he felt small when all four of them looked at him with disappointed looks. Herman was one of them, the female producer another; the other two were represented by the network channel that would air the program.

“This is not good, Bill. We can't save this. If Sandra tells the other women, all of them will leave, and we don't have a show,” said the female producer, Precious Daniels. Bill blinked slowly, even if he felt panic in his chest. He wondered if they could sue him for this or something and he would see his daughters secured future, his home, car, but also his reputation disappear. 

“What, what do you want to do then?” He stuttered and looked between the four people. 

“We must talk with Sandra. Write a contract with her, pay her off...” continued Precious and gave Bill a strict glare so he would feel ashamed. In that moment he did because he might have handled this unprofessionally. But his emotions had taken over, and when a memory of Sienna laughing so hard she had spit wine on him came to mind, the shame disappeared, and instead he smirked a bit to himself. 

“Bill?” Sighed Herman, he had probably understood Bill had disappeared into much more pleasant thoughts, and Bill looked up at his friend and rubbed his eyes. 

“We must come up with a long-term solution to this, and the network has agreed to just do ten episodes instead of twelve, but for this to work, you must cooperate, not just... disappear to New Jersey,” continued Herman with a serious expression. Even if he sounded hard, he had Bill's interest in mind. He really tried to make everything as easy for Bill as possible, but it was hard when so much money was on the line. Bill nodded and gazed down at the table. 

“So do you have any ideas?”

Now one of the network representatives cleared her throat and fixed her short hair while looking at Bill's full lips. 

“Well, we must have three more ceremonies with the women, then we need an episode, a staged one, when you search for Sienna, and then we have the reunion that will be its own episode.” 

Bill looked nervous. He knew what that meant. A reunion episode meant drama. Herman had in the beginning promised to make such a thing short and easy, but now it would be a full episode. A full episode for the women to be angry, but he didn't have a choice. 

“Okay, okay,” he said with a sigh and nodded to himself. He just wanted it all to end. 

×

[seventeenlovesthree]

Since it's my personal mission to make everybody watch the Digimon Adventure Tri Stage Play, I dug up one of my favourite interviews again. I owe the producer my life, because he simply managed to create the best piece of Digimon Adventure media since Adventure itself (in my opinion almost as amazing as Our War Game and that MEANS something). However, I saw a few people being confused about a few things, so I wanted to clarify:

"Wait, is the Stage Play just Tri's story but done on stage?"

Nope, it does take place during the Tri era (between the third and fourth movie to be exact), but it is an original (side) story that can be watched without having any knowledge of Tri or Tri's plot.

"Does the story take place in the real or in the Digital World?"

That would actually be a spoiler and since there is no easy answer to this, I'm gonna say you have to watch it for yourself.

"Are the characters like in the original or like in Tri?"

That's the fun part - of course there are glimpses and pieces of the Tri characterizations, but the producer really did his very best to adapt the characters faithfully and as respectfully from the original source material as much as he could and I think you can feel that:

"To be honest, the generational timing was a little off for me, so I had never seen Digimon before. After I received the request for the stage play, I watched all of it, including the original TV series and the movie series, but I didn’t expect that I’d be crying so many times. It was a story of human growth and Digimon evolution being deeply intertwined, and I watched as that growth and evolution was overlaid with so many other things. Maybe it was because I watched it as an adult, but I was able to see it from all sorts of perspectives in regards to “people growing”. (...) While I’ve worked with other people’s stories and made plays out of them several times, it was usually in the sense of taking the original work’s story and repurposing it for the stage format. But for this one, even though I’m borrowing the original series’s characters, the story is being written from scratch, and it’s my first time writing words for characters that were created by other people. It was a high level of difficulty, and I still feel it even now. Also, it made me wonder how the scriptwriters for the anime must have done this. They were also writing the same characters in the same world, while sharing that job with tons of other people. It’s amazing that they were able to do that. But, naturally, it wasn’t just full of difficult and painful things, but once the story properly got going, I got to hear the lines I was writing in the voices of the characters from the original series, and getting to savor those kinds of moments was very fun. Someone like me, who works in the theatre field, gets to take over the job of writing the lines of characters made by others. And then I have Toei check over it, and we get even closer to the mark. So in other words, we bring these characters to life by sharing them between everyone. And especially in the case of Digimon, it was an interesting experience in that there wasn’t just one writer or director, but rather that everyone had their own version of Taichi and Yamato, and the dialogue was born from between all of that.

"Anything else I need to know?"

If you are able to see past some cringe, don't mind nostalgia baiting and are okay with a few... Questionable scenes in regards to the main antagonist (which you will definitely know if you've watched the original Adventure series), you will enjoy this.

Also, personally, I'd say this is the order of plot relevance of each human character, so if your favourite characters are in the top half of the list (and even if they're not), you are likely to have fun:

Taichi

Jyou

Koushirou

Yamato

Mimi

Hikari

Sora

Takeru

[fangaminghell]

Hm. Well then.

[emdotcom]

Agony, chat; if I want to understand Post-Shift 2 better, I have to actually go back & fully understand Post-Shift 1.

[heavenlymorals]

Details that I've noticed about Arthur Morgan-

-He, for the most part, despises male touch, especially if it's overly affectionate. He gets tense anytime a man hugs him and wants it to be over as quick as possible (Jamie, Mickey) and he looks visibly offended when Professor Bell touches him. He even sometimes gets annoyed when Dutch touches him on his shoulder, someone who he considers a father figure.

-On the flip side, he does not mind female touch at all. He even initiates it sometimes (Tilly, the girl at Beaver Hollow). Now one could argue that they were high stress situations, but if Tilly was a dude, he would've just set her free, make a snide remark, give her a gun, and then he'd expect her to help him with the fighting. He is completely cool with the nun giving him a hug and doesn't get offended when Mary Beth touches his hand in their therapy session.

- He seems to be pretty well read. He knows Shakespeare, with Romeo and Juliet, and Icarus. He makes other literary references. This is probably due to Dutch. Dutch is clearly very well read and cultured. However, Arthur seems more interested in practical works like guides then philosophy and stories, given that the only book he has on his tent desk is a plant guide.

- He's great at remembering faces and less so on remembering names.

- He does have an amazing propensity to remember physical features, like how he is able to create amazing portraits of the people he meets without consistent reference. It's incredible and works back to the whole great at remembering faces thing. Same goes for animals.

- He is very curious. He is always touching things, looking at things, critiquing things, and trying to understand how they work.

- He generally refuses to be emotionally open with men and does it only with women- this could be due to the idea of the Cult of Domesticity. I've made a post about it before. Compare him speaking with the nun to Reverend Swanson. Compare him speaking to John about Dutch leaving him to him speaking to Sadie about Dutch leaving him.

- He is very connected or is fond of artistic people. He and Mary Beth talk about their journals. He is fond of Albert Mason's photography and helps him out. He is interested in Charles Chataney's artistic work, even if he doesn't like it or connect with it.

- Since a lot of camp members respond to Arthur's antagonizations with something like "not again" or "I knew I'd be next", it's safe to assume Arthur will go off on people from time to time, regardless if you play high or low honor.

- Does not have a fixed temperament. In some missions, he is more energetic and in others, he is more downtrodden. Very realistic and I fucking love it.

- Has direct eye content at all times- will look anyone in the eye and does not give a fuck. NPCs will look away from him if he stares at them.

- Gets mad when men don't behave like men, especially when it concerns women. He gets pissed at John for not stepping up and being a man to his family. He gets annoyed and even pissed off when asking why Beau couldn't have helped Penelope Braithwaite as she is his woman.

- Given how the camp falls to shit whenever Arthur isn't donating, we can safely conclude that Arthur is the most valuable member of that camp, bar maybe Hosea and Dutch.

- He is very reminiscent of the Dark Romantic, which is really interesting as a lot of times, it can be looked at as the middle ground between Romantacism and Realism, two ideologies that were very popular in the 19th century. I will make a full analysis regarding this later.

- Introverted, but not shy at all. In fact, he's very charismatic and is just as good as dealing with people as Dutch and Hosea (The Riverboat Mission) This 'dumb, mumbling' cowboy thing he's dumbed down to in the fandom is an insult to his character.

- He probably acted like a father figure to Jamie Gillis when he was still with Mary, given the fact that he taught him how to ride a horse. Will probably also make a full post about this later.

- Some people say that Arthur is around 5'10-11. Others say He's 6'0-3. Whatever his height actually is, he's still way taller than the average man during this time period, who was around 5'6. Now imagine that with muscles and armed to the teeth- fucking terrifying.

- Very sentimental. He keeps a photo of his supposedly no good Pa and wears his hat. He keeps a photo of his mother who he doesn't really remember at all. He keeps a photo of his dog, a horseshoe that probably belonged to a dead and beloved horse. He keeps a flower from his mother. Keeps a photo of Mary as well. If he had a photo of Isaac, he'd probably keep that too.

-Arthur died at 36 years old from Tuberculosis if you play high honor. The real gunslinger and outlaw Doc Holliday died at the same exact age and the same exact way.

- Genuinely doesn't give a fuck about movements, social issues, and cultural issues, but does care about individual people.

- I love him

- So fucking much

- 😃

[ros3ybabe]

🎀 Hobbies 🎀

I feel as tho I don't have much time to do things besides school, work, some chores, and survive right now, but I've been thinking about some hobbies I enjoy and would like to incorporate into my life when I decide to make the time without burning out!

Reading - I used to be big on reading just about any books I could get my hands on. Then I was really focused on reading self help, and now that I haven't been reading at all, I've been thinking about getting back into reading. Always looking for book recommendations, and I do have my eye on some books I'd like to purchase.

Gardening - if I had the time and space, I'd love to have a flower garden or a vegetable garden. It always makes me happy when the fruits of my efforts come to life, so tending to plants and gardening sounds super fun and relaxing.

Video Games - I used to play video games on and off, but I wouldn't mind owning a PS4 or a Switch and spending some time playing video games whenever I'd want time to wind down.

Cooking/Baking - I love learning things, and the sense of pride I've gotten in the past when receiving praise for things I've cooked or baked has really driven me to want to increase my skill. I've only baked something from scratch once in my life, but I'd really like to expand my skills in making desserts.

Exercise - I'm talking all forms of it! Dancing, martial arts/kickboxing type activities, yoga, pilates, running, swimming, spin/cycling, weight lifting (again), calisthenics, all of it! I don't currently look like the exercise type but I find various forms of movement to be so fun! If I had more time, I'd be trying new things all the time!

Volunteer work - This is something I used to do all the time, and it's a hobby that I enjoyed that kept me humble. Not only that, but I thoroughly enjoy showing kindness and compassion to others. Making a difference in anuwau brings me so much joy, and I love meeting new people and learning their stories. I also would love to volunteer with animals, because they deserve so much love and affection too!

Drawing/Art - I used to draw for fun but when I started college, I didn't have the time to devote to continuously increasing my art skills. I still own a sketch kit, coloring materials, and several sketchbooks so it really is a matter of having time.

Crochet - The thought of making things that I can gift to others seriously makes me so excited!! Crochet seems like such a fun, crafty, relaxing activity and the added fun of gifting those crafts to others would make it so fun!!

Scrapbooking - I don't know if I'd ever do this one, but I do Ike the idea of keeping my memories in a physical space, and not just in like pictures on my phone.

Learning - if school wasn't crazy busy, I'd spend all my time learning languages (ASL, Japanese, Spanish, Korean, Mandarin, Italian, etc), computer coding skills, how to make and do certain things, just anything I can do to keep my mind enriched.

Upcycling/Altering Clothes - I would love to upcycle or alter articles of clothes into more personalized pieces for myself. The thought of having a personalized, hand made closet full of clothes makes me really want to buy a sewing machine and learn how to use it to my advantage!

That's all I can think of for now that I'd like to someday incorporate into my life. Having hobbies is always so fun, but I've been so busy and tired that I don't mess with any of the hobbies I'd want to do. If anyone has any tips for time management, or resources for beginning new hobbies, please let me know!!

til next time lovelies 🩷

[ghostofskywalker]

Tabloid Buzz

Natasha Romanoff/Fem!Reader

Fictober 2024 Day 20 of 31

Words: 1,082

Summary: The rest of the Avengers like to tease Natasha about her (extremely obvious) crush on one of the biggest pop stars of the day. She just lets it happen, because they don't actually know the whole story.

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

The sound of a trashy gossip talk show was playing on the TV when Natasha stepped into the communal kitchen, and she just rolled her eyes as she registered the topic of discussion. Of course all her friends’ eyes were going to be on her now, no matter what she did to try and get them to give the topic a rest. 

“Pop sensation Y/N L/N has secured herself the number 1 spot this week once again for her newest album, and all eyes have been on the singer in recent weeks. Despite the outwardly dark album imagery, this album hints at a new presence in her life, as evidenced by songs like “All I Wanted” and “Head In The Clouds.” Fans have been ravenous to know more, and are hoping that the upcoming Grammy awards will be a chance for Y/N to show off the person who’s got her so smitten. Even the title track…”

 Natasha rolled her eyes as she pointedly ignored the television and began to pour herself a cup of coffee. However, Tony  was apparently not going to let this go. “It seems you’ve missed your chance with your celebrity crush Romanoff,” he said, a teasing smile on his face. 

“You do know what a celebrity crush is, right?” she asked, smiling as she watched Steve try not to laugh out of the corner of her eye. “It’s usually someone you never had a chance with in the first place.” 

“For normal people maybe,” Tony responded, taking a sip from the mug in front of him. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Natasha said. “Besides, half the people in this room also have a crush on her.”

The quiet bustle of a busy morning stopped for a moment, and the look on Natasha’s face almost challenged someone to speak up and disagree with her statement. She knew she was right about it though, because between her, Sam, Wanda, and Clint (even thought the latter wouldn’t admit it) there was a startlingly large amount of your merchandise in the compound. The four of them had sat in the living room last year with every set of eyes glued to the TV as you crossed the red carpet at one of the many award shows, in an outfit that had made Natasha drool a little (which thankfully, no one else had noticed). 

“Besides,” Natasha said, not really thinking before she spoke. “How do you know it wasn’t me who inspired this new album?” 

That statement got the desired effect, and the kitchen was suddenly full of laughter, pushing away the silence that had ruled it seconds before. “That’s good!” Tony said, almost spitting out the sip of coffee he had just taken. “Romanoff, sometimes I forget how funny you are.” 

The conversation shifted quickly after Tony’s comment, as different people in the room had to head off off to their meetings and missions for the day, and Natasha just smiled, content in knowing that there was so much that her teammates didn’t know. 

Her phone buzzed right as the last person left the kitchen, and she couldn’t help but smile at the text that lit up her screen, from a contact labeled with your name and the heart emoji in your favorite color. Good morning love, it read. Are we still on for date night later? 

Of course, Natasha texted back. I’ll pick you up at 8 <3

***

She had been doing well, hiding her budding relationship with you from the rest of her teammates, but her inevitable downfall came when she decided to sneak you into the compound one day when everyone else was away. In her defense, the various assignments, missions, meetings, and conventions that the rest of her team were on had a return date two days in the future, and these things never ended on time. She supposed it was just her luck that this time things would be different. 

The two of you had fallen asleep on the couch, with the various half-eaten snacks you had enjoyed left on the coffee table (it was fine, they were tomorrow’s problem). When Natasha opened her eyes, she could see the clock across the room read 2 AM, and your head was resting on her shoulder. The simple sweats you were wearing were completely different than the glittering ensembles you wore on stage and at events, but you looked just as beautiful now as you did when she first saw you. 

Her plan to fall back asleep was interrupted by the sound of the living room door opening, and Natasha’s eyes widened as she realized that someone must have come back early. There was no time to sneak you into her room, and she doubted that whoever had just walked in would simply not look in her direction, as the TV was still playing in the background. 

Natasha turned her head right as Steve stepped into view, and immediately he raised his eyebrows at her. She wasn’t sure if he realized who was currently snoozing on the couch next to her, but she was not about to ask that question. 

The look on her face was something between a plea for him to keep quiet and embarrassment that this even happened in the first place, but she trusted Steve. No words were exchanged in the moment, but an agreement was still made. 

She could hear him in the kitchen filling up a glass of water, and her phone buzzed with a text. No one else is supposed to be back until tomorrow afternoon, it read. If you need any help sneaking her out, let me know. 

Natasha breathed a sigh of relief, sending a thank you text in response, along with a promise to let him know if she needed him to run interference. Yes, she would have to tell everyone about this eventually, but she wanted a little more time to bask in the glow of her new relationship, and maybe even shock them by accompanying you to an event or awards show (since they seemed so dead set on teasing her about her feelings). 

Her phone buzzed once more, and this time the text contained a link to one of the music videos from your newest album, titled “Only For You.” I guess we know who her muse is now, The message read. Natasha playfully rolled her eyes, but didn’t really bite back. She probably would have done the same thing for him anyway. 

- the end -

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[dalekofchaos]

Doctor Doom gets ruined AND WHITEWASHED AGAIN!

4 attempts to get Doctor Doom right

4

And we STILL can’t get this right

A master of magic and science. A man who rivals Doctor Strange and Reed Richards as the most powerful sorcerer and the smartest man alive. He rules an entire country with an army of Doombots. Considered to be one of the greatest Marvel villains. And they still can't get him right. They have to make him a fucking Tony Stark variant. Tony Stark is not Victor Von Doom and Doom is above Tony Stark.

Victor wearing the mask always is integral to his appeal and aura like Vader's mask. It not only hides his vain scars he caused due to his failures, but it closes him off from humanity and makes him believe he’s beyond it.

As far as I'm concerned Marvel Ultimate Alliance and EMH are the only good adaptations of Doom

Doctor Doom being a romani man with a background CENTERING his family's racial persecution. with his ethnicity at the forefront of his motivations and his tragedy. and they really just brought back Robert Downey Jr.

Being romani is INTEGRAL to doom’s character and without that he’s not doom. he NEEDS to be romani and played by a romani character. full stop, don't believe me? Read Book Of Dooms.

Since 1964 Victor von Doom has been established as a Romani character. His childhood was filled with antiziganism and his parents deaths were caused by it. This later led him to become Doctor Doom and overthrow the Latverian government to protect his people

I am so fucking sick and tired of this whitewashing bullshit and the ethnoerasure of Marvel characters.

The Maximoff Twins, The Ancient One, Moon Knight and now fucking Doom.

God fucking forbid an actual Romani actor PLAYS A ROMANI CHARACTER.

But no they pulled another fucking multiverse shit all so RDJ could return and it all feels like blackface from Tropic Thunder

I DON'T GIVE A FUCKING SHIT ABOUT ANTHONY STARK FROM EARTH-11029 OR INFAMOUS IRON MAN

If you wanted evil Iron Man so fucking bad, why didn't you just do Superior Iron Man?

The LAZIEST, DUMBEST, most CONTRIVED BULLSHIT casting ever, Marvel continues to not beat the whitewashing allegations. Doctor Doom deserved better.

Romani actor Charlie Clapman was right fucking there AND HE ENDORSED IT!

I'd even suggest Romani actor Óscar Jaenada as Doom. Again another Roma actor who's actively interested in playing Doom

And you know what? As bad as the 1994 movie was, Joseph Culp the first actor to play Doom in the Fantastic Four (1994) movie by Oley Sassone & Richard Corman. Culp was also white but he very clearly cared for the comics background of Victor von Doom

and you also know damn well they're going to erase everything about Magneto too that makes him who he is… which is his entire fucking background. how horrible of a person do you have to be to repeatedly disrespect the minorities who created these stories?

Doctor Doom is Roma Romani. He is not white. The MCU loves to whitewash its Roma and Jewish characters and it’s time we called them out for it. Dr Doom is not a white man, he is Roma!

They will never nail down the complexity of Victor Von Doom

Every year Doom goes to hell to fight Mephisto to rescue the soul of his mother. He finally won her soul with the help of Doctor Strange only for her to reject him.

No evil Stark replicant will ever fucking match the complexity of Victor Von Doom.

I don't care if this is a one time thing for RDJ. They specifically chose to do this when the fans were begging for a fucking Romani actor. It also doesn't fucking help that Marvel has erased nearly EVERY fucking ethnic character has been whitewashed.

Scarlet Witch & Quicksilver: Erased Romani heritage and whitewashed. Moon Knight & Wiccan: Casted non-Jewish actors. Sabra: Featured in anything at all, and actress is an IDF soldier to make matters worse.

The MCU is full of ethnic erasure, military propaganda & racism. it’s disgusting this is continuing with Dr Doom’s casting. remember to continue to boycott marvel, because of the genocide they support by casting an iof solider to play a character from the zionist terrorist occupation

Dr Doom is one of those villains that it should be IMPOSSIBLE to fuck up but wasting him on a cheap Iron Man nostalgia casting pop might be the way

[juletheghoul]

Grown

AN: I am sort of going through a writing bender? A manic episode? I don't know, I just know that if I don't get it down I will lose my mind. I have been wanting to write an age-gap fic for Joel (aside from LMF) for a while but I couldn't really find the format or the idea that I could sink my teeth into. There are SO MANY good ones out there, I even had a whole other thing started but it got too intense, and making it sexual wouldn't have been true to that version of Joel, so here is what I came up with. (I kept Tess out of this story) Big thank you to @foli-vora for letting me exorcise this demon, and to @frannyzooey for putting up with my endless messages and voice notes through discord, love y'all! (this is unbeta'd and barely proofread, any and all mistakes are mine)

Joel Miller x F!reader (sex worker) (Joel calls you ‘Pretty’)

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) , language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), fingering, cream pie, one lonely little lick of his cock👅, come play sort of? dirty talk, age gap (legal), feelings of guilt, talk of sex work, some of it traumatic (no details, no violence)

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist 

He was a risk, calculated but definitely worth it up close. He fidgeted, flexing and unflexing his hands as you moved around the tiny studio apartment. Your home, and ‘office’. You’d searched long and hard, and paid a hefty price for the soft lamps, the newish linens for your bed, the homey touches.

He shifted his weight as you put the quilt down, separating the outside world from the privacy of your sheets. Easier to clean up after too. 

“Boots off, please.” You gesture to the place by the door, and he nodded with a frown. 

“Sorry.” He groaned as he brought his foot up and for a moment you saw his age, through the pleasant features. 

“No problem, how do you want me?” You stand at the foot of the bed, naked under the well-worn, but cherished robe and for a moment he gawps. You don’t laugh, men don’t like it when you laugh. “On my back?” 

“Wait- how old are you again?” He pads over, tall and broad, obscuring the light source when he walks past it. 

“Old enough.” You smile, “come, why don’t you sit here with me?” You hold out your hand to him, and after a tense glance, he takes it and sits where you gesture. His grip is firm, but soft, years of hard work rooted in the calluses that meet your significantly softer palm. It isn’t a turn off though, he’s a man, men work hard. The real ones do, or did anyway.

“How long do I have? S’there anyone else…?” He trails off, his voice cutting off and you smile, placating. 

“You have as long as you need, tonight's all yours.” You sit beside him, and put your hand tentatively on his arm, channeling every single ounce of calm you have and pouring it into him. He’s warm and alive beside you, heat radiating off him under the soft pass of your thumb against the skin peeking out under the denim sleeve, you let the soft light, the light patter of rain outside your window work on him. He surveys the area, learning the layout of your space and you don’t interfere, you follow his gaze and try to see it all from his point of view. 

It's small, but comfortable. It’s exceedingly clean, you’d spent hours and hours making sure, back breaking hours on your hands and knees scrubbing and washing and it had paid off, no matter how sore you’d been after. There’s a little table, with two chairs, a big lumpy chair near the window, where you spent most of your time not working curled up with one of your precious books. He noticed the tiny chest of drawers, the top of it clear except for a half-full glass of water. He saw the baseball bat leaning against the wall tucked just behind it. 

“Can I get a little closer?” You scoot a little, pressing your thigh to his, turning to hold his restless arm between your breasts, your fingers intertwining with his while he got accustomed to your own warmth. Those big, callused, hard-working hands wrapped up in yours. Invitingly warm.

Some people needed a little push, sometimes they were nervous on how to start and they needed someone to get them out of their heads. Some wanted to talk, to sprawl out naked with you and get all of their thoughts out. 

Loneliness is the main malady you alleviate. 

Some didn’t want to talk at all, some just wanted you to open your legs and take, and that was okay too. Everyone had their thing. 

“This okay?” You put your linked palms on the little bit of skin poking out through the gap in your robe, your skin surrounding both sides of his hand. 

“Yeah, s’okay.” He watches the robe slip open, and his other hand joins the fray, pulling it apart to see more of your thigh. He licks his lip as more of you is revealed and you artfully let the shoulder slip, drawing his eye up to your cleavage. He pats his leg, and you get a genuine thrill, sliding over and up onto his lap. He needed no further guidance after that, now that he had permission, his body was taking over. 

His eyes were dark, focused, tracking the line of your throat when you swallowed thickly. He watched the way your breath hitched when he slid his hand up your inner thigh and found you bare underneath, his fingers slipping through the silky hair at your mound, his fingers parting your lips softly to find your slick folds. He lets out a shuddering breath at the same time you do, when his finger slips over your clit. 

“I’m too old for you, pretty.” He watches his hand between your legs, using it to spread your thighs enough to see your pussy dripping for him. 

“You don’t feel too old.” You hold onto his neck, giving him more access and your stomach drops to feel him hardening under the swell of your ass. You pull his hand from between your legs, and dip his fingers into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around them before pressing them back against your achy clit. He pulls a genuine moan of pleasure at the extra slip when he swirls around your clit nice and slow. Tortuous, and talented.

“So fuckin’ soft,” He glides his fingers down, circling your entrance but his eyes are focused on your mouth now, “bet you’re tight as a fist, aren’t you baby?” He slides two thick fingers inside and you clutch at him, more turned on by him than you’ve ever been doing this line of work.

It’s a stretch, but he works them in, pressing against your upper wall, looking for something and when he finds it you whimper in his arms. 

“Do you kiss?” You barely hear him over the blood pounding in your ears, his fingers curling inside you, and he puts more pressure on the button he’s found and you moan, lost and mindlessly enjoying the fullness. 

He presses devastatingly soft, tender kisses to your throat, completely at odds with the wet sounds of his exploration between your legs. 

“Baby, can we kiss?” He repeats it, this time with his fingers still, but stuffed deep. You press your mouth to his, humid and hot and he tastes like the good alcohol you have stashed in your cupboard. He groans and his fingers scissor inside you, squelching between your legs with every lazy pump. He traps your bottom lip between his, alternating a teasing bite to the plump of it, with deep licks into your mouth. You’ve never been kissed like this. 

“You just gonna use your fingers?” He pulls away to skim his nose down your neck, bunching the top of the robe in the splayed hand at your back to pull it down from where it hangs on your shoulder. His mouth engulfs your nipple when it falls and any thoughts that he may be too old for you seem to slip his mind because he doubles down, moaning obscenely into your skin as you leak onto his lap. 

“No, just wanna open you up, I wanna make sure this little pussy can take me.” Arousal and excitement pools in your belly. 

“What a gentleman.” You laugh, half crazed with lust for this man who just might be old enough to be your father. He smiles, drunk on the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, his spit still shining on your breast. He has a dimple, so boyish in contrast to the grey in his beard and in his hair you can’t help but love it, it suits him.

“Spread your legs a little more for me darlin’,” one hand is heavy on your hip, holding you so you can drop one leg and open up a little more, “I wanna see you come,” he speeds up, his thumb now doing tight little circles against your clit and you moan, unabashedly, “look how wet she is,” he stares between your legs “I just wanna see her come.” He hooks his fingers again and the pressure is almost too much. It only takes a few moments, his fingers pet, pet, pet and then you clench, the pleasure going off in your belly like a bomb, radiating out through your breasts, into your hips, all the way down to your fingers and toes. 

A universe contained within your body, borne of his hand.

“Fuck.” Your legs close over his hand, and he slows down but doesn’t stop, a softer, slower stroke while you catch your breath. “Let's get you outta these clothes.” you start undoing the buttons to his shirt, admiring the breadth of his shoulders, the smattering of freckles littered along his skin. He pulls his fingers out from between your legs, shiny and dripping in you and sticks them into his mouth, moaning at the tang of you. 

Undressing him is like opening a gift. His arms are strong, his biceps flexing when he all but lifts you up to stand, pulling your robe off and away from you like it’s on fire. His midsection is soft, but you can feel the strength underneath when you undo his jeans, tensing in excitement the closer you get to the considerable bulge in them. You curl your fingers around both his jeans, and his boxers, impatient to get him naked. You crouch as you pull them down, mouth watering at the size of him, hard and bobbing in front of you. The muscles in his thighs are firm, his skin so warm and you can’t help but lick a stripe up the underside of his cock on the way back up. 

He lets out a sound like he's been punched in the gut and you take it in like sustenance. 

“Don’t–I’ll come too fast if you put it in your mouth.”

You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, just as he reaches down to grab and spread the cheeks of your ass, stomach full of butterflies at the feeling of him hard and leaking against your belly. 

“But I wanna swallow it, I wanna feel it in my throat.” You pout and he lets out a shuddering breath, “Don’t you wanna fuck my mouth?” You press your lips to the hollow of his throat, your fingers slipping through the unruly, grey strands at the back of his neck. 

“Not now baby, I’m barely goin' to last as it is.” He turns you, pressing you to lay in the middle of your quilt and he’s quick to follow, fitting himself between your legs, leaning on one arm beside your skull and when he grabs his cock and gives it a few strokes, you almost can’t watch him. It’s too erotic, it looks so big in his hand, too big to fit but you know it will, he’ll make it fit. 

“Jesus Christ,” He whispers as he feeds himself inside you slowly, an inch, before pulling it out, then a little more, until he’s fucking you a little deeper each time. 

There wasn’t enough air in the room to fill your lungs, he took up every fucking drop. You’d been with other men, you’d been with women, all of them taking their pleasure from your body and most of them giving pleasure in return, this was something else. This was almost scary, the way the vision of him above you made your brain buzz and your nipples hard, made your cunt leak all over him. 

He moves up onto his knees, those big hands pull your legs up and apart, pressing the backs of your thighs into your chest, practically folding you in half to slide his cock deeper still.

He snapped his hips hard, pulling a sound you’d never made out of your mouth, again, and again, until it was a continuous babble. He watches the way his cock disappears inside the tight clutch of your cunt with every dirty roll of his hips. He sinks a little further down, and adjusts his stroke, until just the tip of it stays inside of every heavy push forward. 

This isn’t some desperate, lonely old guy looking to get his dick wet, this is a grown man, fucking you like a grown man does and you feel like a grown woman taking it. 

“Joel, baby that’s so fucking good-“ you press your hands to his chest where he leans against you. He’s focused, eyes glazed over, sweat dripping down his nose in his efforts. He shuts his eyes tight for a moment, his pace stuttering slightly and you know he’s not gonna last.

“I wanna see her come with me inside,” he whines, and you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing so you reach down and swirl your fingers around your clit while he watches, “that’s it baby, that’s it, fuck, I’m close-“ he somehow spreads you wider, the wet suck of your pussy is louder, more obscene, more erotic. 

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-“ the orgasm strangles the words in your throat, pulsing him out but he pushes back in and you feel it all the way in your toes. 

“Fuuuuuckkk—“ he pulls out and pumps himself furiously against your mound, covering the soft patch of hair in spurt after milky spurt. It’s a lot, some has splashed onto your hip, your belly, you feel it slipping down to where you clench, empty and gaping without him filling you. 

It’s quiet for a moment after, while your blood cools, and he milks himself dry, pumping a few more times despite the over-sensitivity. 

“You got anything for me to clean you up with?” He rubs at the indents he left on the back of your thighs before unfolding you. 

“There’s a little pile of rags in that first drawer behind you.” You point to the tiny chest of drawers, and he groans when he moves up and off of you. Now that he’s emptied his balls, the signs of his age rear their heads. He groans, wincing as he bends forward to carefully wipe everything away with gentle hands. 

It’s nice to see him walk around naked, welcome, you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often, if he came back that was. 

“That was-“ he scratches at the back of his neck, passing the cloth over your belly, “that was really good.”

“I’ll say, it was better than good.” You stretch out and luxuriate like a cat in warm patch of sun, seriously debating offering him time to recover so he could fuck you again. He quirks his lip, the ghost of a smile, the confidence dulled to shy, awkward fumbling. He tosses the rag into the little basket you point to, and he begins the process of getting dressed. You get up when he’s almost done, your thighs, and what’s between already sore and pick up your robe. He’s putting his neat little stack of ration cards on the table when you finish tying it up. 

“Thanks.” He pulls his boots on, opening your door before turning back to find you right on his heels. 

“Anytime.” You smile at him, hoping it won’t be a one-time thing. He moves to step outside but you pull him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking something for your own. He kisses you back when you press your mouth to his, it's softer, his tongue sweet when it tangles with yours and you smile into the kiss when he reaches down, and grabs your ass. 

“Bye, Pretty.”

“Bye Joel.”

-

You hadn't fallen into the work, so much as slowly slid into it. The first time had been almost a dare, a challenge to yourself, a proposition made by someone and maybe your own foolish, naive need to prove that you weren’t some stupid baby. A man, an older man that had shared cleaning duty with you had come right out with it, saw you bending over to pick something off the floor and told you that he’d pay every ration card he had for a taste of that ass, as he so eloquently put it. 

At first you’d been shocked, he seemed like a perfectly bland, run of the mill survivor making his way in the QZ, but he’d been serious. You’d asked him to clarify, to repeat his words, and he had. He’d shaken his hands of the dirt and dust of the job, produced a tiny stack of much needed ration cards from a hidden pocket and held them out for you like a cold glass of water in the desert. Something inside you had recoiled, he wasn’t repulsive, but he wasn’t exactly the object of your late night fantasies. Another part though, a hidden little sliver of something jumped at the chance to have some power, some semblance of control and so without much thought to consequence, you’d taken him up on it. 

An uncomfortable fifteen minutes later, he was grunting behind you, stroking himself furiously to paint the cheeks of your ass in his come. 

Once it was done, the little part of you that had welcomed the challenge was curiously absent, and the part that had recoiled was bigger, swelling like some awful, infected limb. But you had rations enough to stop working for a few days, and that took some of the repulsion away. 

It was a while before you did it again. It was a while before you saw the man again, maybe part of you, that ever-present bit of self-preservation urged you to avoid him but he eventually found you again. This time you turned him down, and he hadn’t pressed, but he’d told others. Other men who seemed to sniff you out, some of them older, and less diplomatic and those you told to fuck off. Some of the younger ones though, closer to your age looking for the experience, some of them you took in, with the strict promise to never tell anyone unless they wanted to never see you again. Those experiences were better, less traumatic. 

After that it seemed like things came together, you had a steady string of people who took you seriously and paid up front. 

The first woman had been a girl of around your age, she’d heard from a friend of a friend, carefully and strategically keeping the source to herself. You’d never really given it much thought but once you did it seemed only natural, women got lonely too, and there was nothing about her that you didn’t understand. So you accepted her, took her rations and gave her as much of yourself as you gave the men. 

It’d taken time to establish yourself, to find the regular people you let into the circle, it was all much easier now. With the exception of Joel, you hadn’t taken on someone new in a while, but he made you glad you did.

-

His hands always shake before it starts. 

It’s a light tremble, a couple of fingers in his left hand and you aren’t entirely sure if it’s an injury, or a sign of nerves. He’s hard of hearing in one ear too, his right. You hadn't picked up on it at first but once you do, it makes sense. He tilts his head to the right a tiny bit, turning his good ear towards your mouth. It doesn’t bother you. 

He was older than the rest, that did bother him, but never enough to stop visiting. He dragged it out sometimes, made himself wait, avoided you, but whether it took him a week or a month, he came back. 

“Hi Joel.” You smiled to see him standing at the threshold, fingers twitching by his side, his hair a mess, a small bundle in his grip.

“Hi.” He doesn’t smile back, he’d waited too long, the frown practically tattooed on. He puts the bundle down on the dresser after kicking off his boots, and doesn’t mention it. 

It’s dark outside, later than you usually let anyone come see you but for him you make exceptions. His hands keep rubbing at his thighs, his eyes darting around, you let him settle for a moment, get his bearings before jumping into anything, it’s a dance and you both have your steps. 

“How do you want me?” You finally break the silence once he sits on the quilt. He looks up at you, but doesn’t answer right away, his eyes fall to your cleavage, then down to your waist where the robe is cinched, then further still to your hips. You move closer, until you stand between his spread thighs. 

“Hm? Wanna fuck me on my back? Or should I get on my hands and knees?” You thread your fingers through his hair, slicking it back as best you can, he shudders at your words and at the feeling of your hands on him, putting up his usual show of shame at being here with you, at being older. “Should I get on my knees right here and suck your cock?” His hands land on your hips, his face pressing against your sternum, robe parting enough for him to press his lips to the valley between your breasts.

“You’re too fuckin’ soft, way too fuckin’ pretty to be lettin’ me touch you.” He always does this, has to make it known that you shouldn’t let him do this, that he shouldn’t want you like this. It never stops him, he opens the robe and pushes it off to fall on the floor regardless of his words and moans into the skin of your breast where he nuzzles like a cat.

“Prettiest thing I ever saw.” His mouth laves at one pert nipple, then the other, leaving them hard and shiny when he trails his kisses down to your belly. 

All day you’ve thought about him here, getting to have him to yourself, opening you up and molding you to fit him like a glove, making you see stars like he always does. And all day you’ve felt that slow simmer of arousal, that steady ache to bloom and gape for him, both soft and obscene. The constant excitement of anticipation. His mouth on your nipples only served to turn it up to an inferno, turning you to liquid for him. 

“But I like when you touch me.” You scratch at his scalp, pressing his face into your skin, “I like it when you fuck me, you make it so good, much better than anyone else.” You flatter him, but you don’t lie to him. You’ve learned to be impartial to your experiences, sex is work. As fun as it can be with some of them, it’s all a means to an end, you need to eat and so you do what you have to do. You are also realistic about him, he is not your boyfriend, he’s not your partner, he barely gives you a second glance on the street but in here, he’s your favourite. He fits you better than anyone and anything, and as much as you hate to admit it, you need him as much as he needs you.

He takes in the words, believes them and relishes them. 

“How do you want me, Joel?” You pull his face up, bending down to kiss him before he can answer and his desperation comes through. His tongue is insistent, his kiss almost violent. 

“I want you here-“ he pats the bed, before getting up to take his clothes off. You help him, both of you working efficiently until he’s as naked as you are. His cock is already hard, the tip of him pearly with his own want despite any and all notions of impropriety. 

His body always betrays him. 

He gets you on your back, but he doesn’t lay on top of you, rather beside you. He doesn’t let you turn to face him, he wants it like this, his body curling around yours to be able to see it spread out for him without himself in the way. 

“Open up for me, s’good, just like that.” He takes the thigh closest to him and drapes it over his hip, positioning himself to enter you from underneath. He lifts his head, showcasing his core strength to watch as he brings his cock to the open mouth of your cunt, sliding in without so much as a warning. You feel exposed, spread open and bare under his eye and it only heightens the experience, cracking something open inside of you. 

His hips push and pull slowly, lazily at first despite how fucking hard he is but doesn’t last. The sight in front of you there, breasts bouncing with every snap, is too much for him. With one hand free, he strums and plucks at your nipples, opening up the dam between your thighs to ruin the quilt underneath. 

His other hand isn’t idle though, it slips down, grabbing onto the plush of your ass, holding you in place hard enough to bruise. 

“That feel good?” He watches you leak all over him, and knows it does but he wants to hear it anyway. 

“Yes- Yes Joel–” You moan, turning to watch his face. 

“This little cunt goin' to come for me? I wanna see her come, I wanna feel her choke my dick.” He surges forward, swallowing the moan from the source before speeding up. His cock strokes, strokes, strokes and you feel the warmth blooming in your core, spreading like a wildfire through your hips, the release so close you can almost taste it, you whine and he shushes you, his voice soft despite how depraved you feel with his cock kissing something sacred inside of you. 

You roll your hips to meet his thrusts and sweat builds in your hairline and at the back of your neck, collects and slips where your skin and his meet.

“I know baby, I know, I can feel her, she wants to come doesn’t she?” His lips press against your cheek, his words warm against your skin. His lips are so soft, so plush as he pants into your face, goosebumps cover your body. You nod against him, mouth open in a silent scream when he adjusts his angle slightly. 

He’s no longer able to form complete sentences, his words are reduced to a repeated chant of yeah baby, yeah baby, right there, right there huh? Barely formed questions for the answer you know he already knows and then his fingers are in your mouth, stretching out your lips, holding your mouth open in a filthy, yet pale imitation of what his cock is doing.

You drool, and you don’t care but it’s what he wants, he takes it from your mouth and slides it over your clit and it’s like he’s pressed the nuclear codes in your body. 

You want to curl into yourself, but you can’t, his grip tightens, painfully, holding you to take and take and take his cock until he bursts inside you like a ripe berry. His groan is almost more obscene than the act, his groin pressed up against you tight, pressing himself deeper than ever to paint your cervix in his come. 

“Fuck–” He presses the word to your cheek, sliding his sweat soaked face down your neck, to your shoulder. He pulls out after a moment, and you feel him leak out of you. He moves to hover over you, pulling one nipple into his mouth to taste before the blood has cooled, and then the other. He isn;t done yet though, he kneels between your spread legs, inspecting the mess he’s made of your pussy, a self satisfied look on his face. 

“Gonna dream about this, while I’m gone.” He lifts your legs, pressing them up and open and slips two fingers deep inside to push his come back in and as you moan at the act, you cannot help but wonder where that worried, too-old Joel is right now. 

“Prettiest little cunt.” He says it to himself, rubbing his mess into the sensitive walls of your sex like a balm. 

He licks his fingers after, tasting the combined flavours of both of you. Your heart almost can’t take it. 

Once he’s dressed, and you have gained enough strength to get up and put your robe on he’s almost back to his shy self. 

“I have the rations here, but I brought somethin’ else.” He gestures to the little bundle he’d left on your dresser, “I found it, thought you might like it.” He opens it, and it’s a can of peaches. 

“Oh!” You’re genuinely taken aback. 

“You ain’t allergic right?” He frowns, and you smile, something soft spreading through your chest that has nothing to do with the sex you just had.

“No, I’m not allergic. Thank you Joel, I am really excited for this.” You ignore the soreness between your legs and close the gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips in thanks. 

“Well alright then.” He frowns again, and it’s not shyness you see on his face now, it’s awkwardness, it’s a man who doesn’t know how to be soft, but is trying his hardest. 

“Bye Pretty.” He lingers at the door, devouring you with his eyes and even though he was still dripping out of you, you felt naked and exposed, open and spread out for his gaze. 

“Bye Joel, don’t wait too long to come see me again okay?” You press yourself against him, the soft lines of you tucked tight against the hard angles of him. He gifts you with a rare smile but doesn’t respond, save for a toe curling kiss at your threshold before he’s gone. 

Hours later, when your body is truly sore and spent, you lay in bed with a book, eating the peaches he brought, and wonder idly what he’ll bring next time. 

-

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[auroreliis]

Hey there, I hope I'm not spamming your blog too much

Also long ask ahead I'm sorry

I would actually enjoy the idea of Batfam with a reader who tried to impress them/ bond with them trough their hobbies

Normally it's only done in neglect fics(no hate to those I love them) and id love to see the reaction in a more fluffy scenwrio

Dick? Reader shows up to every single a acrobatics completion he takes and cheer for him the loudest , and one day come up to dick and show him they won first place in an acrobatics competitons turns out reader has been practicing in secret to impress dick

Jason? Reader constantly exchanges books with recommendations with him, and pays full attention when they rant about how good/bad a book is, one day reader shily approaches him and offers him a book they wrote and published themselves

Cass?(Warning I know nothing about ballet) Reader always tries to get her tickets to shows she's interested in, and even gets her meet and greets/autograph with her favorite dancers, one day reader offer her a single ticket for a new shows , with the excuse that they could only get that, and turns out that reader is actually the main dancer in the show

And obviously with Damian reader is often with him when he paint, and if damian feels like talking, they ask him about what methods he's using and what "vision" he has for his painting, eventually reader ask him to judge their paintings.

(im skipping Steph and Tim, because

The ask is getting too long and because with Tim, his hobby is genuinely investigating mysteries, so that'd s bit complicated since it's mostly vigilante related work,and I don't remember if Steph has a Really specific hobbie that reader can try, she's would just be happy to spend time with them)

Hey! No worries about spamming :)

If you're trying hard to get along with them, then they get very excited and that leads to fluffy scenarios!

Dick would love to do acrobatics with you and he would make for a great mentor. Usually, Dick is known for being annoying, but this is only when you don't engage enough with him. However, when you do engage with him, he becomes a regular, affectionate older brother.

After you finish your daily acrobatic training, he usually carries you to your room and brings you whatever you want. Water? Of course, right away! Food? Alfred's already making it! You want him to put a film on? Yes, hopefully you don't mind him watching it too :)

Jason adores the fact that you like his recommendations when it comes to books. It's not that nobody else in the manor thinks his suggestions are good, it's just that he most values your opinion.

His favourite moments are when you and him are sitting in the library during the evening, drinking hot chocolate and reading books. Neither of you are talking, but the silence is comfortable. Sometimes, he stop reading to look over at you, but you don't notice, because you're so immersed in the story. He probably looks for more books to recommend to you, intending to sit in the library in silence again.

Tim has many hobbies and many hobbies that you are unable to take part in. However, Tim makes it quite easy to spend time with him. For example, watching films with him is something he suggests often. Somehow, Tim always know what you want to do without needing to hear you say it, so if a new show came out, he immediately runs to you and asks if you want to binge it with him.

Watching shows isn't the only thing you two do, though. Tim also enjoys talking to you about anything. You have a new hyperfixation? Tim is the FIRST person you have to tell, because he probably also has the same hyperfixation lol. Somehow, the two of you resonate on every possible level and that makes any mundane activity entertaining if both of you are present.

Stephanie didn't know what to say when you asked her to play the piano for you, but she couldn't just refuse, so she played for you. You can imagine her delight when you asked her to teach you how to play. It takes a while to learn to play the piano, but that just means she gets to spend more time with you :)

Cassandra is delighted to hear that you like ballet as much as she does. She would practice ballet with you and plan choreographies to challenge you a bit. Whenever a show worth watching came up, she would be the first to buy tickets for the two of you.

Much like with Jason, Cassandra is also comfortable with sitting in silence. She doesn't need to have a conversation with you to feel seen by you, just being in the same room is enough for her.

Painting with Damian has become a regular afternoon activity for you, though by "painting with", I mean "getting painted by", because as much as Damian believes in your ability to make great paintings, he sees something in you that makes you the perfect muse. Whenever he paints you, his paintings end up being brighter, they make his other paintings look bleak in comparison.

He finds himself adding some of your charm to other paintings. Whenever he paints a landscape, it looks empty without your favourite flowers in the field. If he paints a room in the manor, he adds some of your objects, perhaps your sweater is hanging over a chair in the corner, or your headphones are on the table in the living room. Now he is unsatisfied with every painting that doesn't have a hint of your presence in it.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Your clothes, my body, shared passion

So I thought it was about time I wrote some steamy and passionate moments with the brothers. At first my idea was an ordinary fluff fiction where you take their clothes and see their reaction but I decided to put some spice to it. So enjoy!

Summary: You take a piece of each brother's clothing, in an attempt to seek some fun time.

WARNING! The story contains 18+ content. Please proceed with caution!

Contains: NSFW

Fem!MC x each of the brothers

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

Lucifer

The eldest has been overworking himself once again. You could swear that the demon hasn't slept for days and is really stressed. Last night he even missed dinner and when you went to bring it to him you saw him asleep on his desk. So today you decided to surprise the demon.. You went to his room, opening his closet and grabbing his favourite tie. You stripped off of your clothes and put the tie on. Looking over at the mirror you smirk mischievously at your provocative form. You grab one of his coats, cover yourself with it and head to the study where Lucifer was doing paperwork. You knocked on the door, waiting for Lucifer's exhausted "Come in". And when you received it you walked in the room, making sure to lock the door behind yourself.

-Lucifeeerr~ –You chuckle and look at him as he continues doing his paperwork like nothing happened.

-Hm? –The eldest mumbles. He moves his gaze towards you and when he does you drop the coat, revealing your naked form to the demon. His eyes widen and he stops in his tracks. The fountain pen drops from his grip as he checks you up and down.

-MC.. –Lucifer shakes his head and chuckles.

-Someone is desperate for my attention I see.. hmm.. Come here then.. I shall indulge in you.. –The demon speaks up and you rush over to his side. He pushes all the documents to the floor, freeing space on his desk as he grabs you by the tie and yanks you to him, placing a kiss to your lips. You feel his hands grip your waist and he sits you down on the desk in front of him.

-Mm... Only a tie huh? And my favourite one at that.. God, MC... You don't know how sexy you look right now.. –Lucifer raises from his seat and leans over you. The eldest traps you between his arms and begins kissing you passionately. You attempt unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt and he chuckles as he sees you struggling.

-Want some help? –He asks and rips the shirt off of his body, leaving his bare chest to you. The demon leans down to kiss your neck as your hands loom over his bare chest. He lets out a low groan.

-You naughty girl... The things you do to me.. –He hisses and continues kissing and nibbling on your neck, leaving tiny love bites in its wake.

-What things? – You tease and he groans once again, before gripping your hand and bringing it forcefully down to his clothed cock.

-This.. –He breathes and stirs up to your touch. You let out a subtle chuckle and grip his dick through his pants, earning a growl from him.

-MC, you're playing with fire. –He hisses but you ignore him, unzipping his trousers and pushing them to the floor along with his boxers, freeing his large and throbbing, demon cock. Your eyes widen in mischief to the sight and the demon throws his head back, taking a deep breath, trying to remain composed. But he fails. Lucifer grips you once again and turns your body over, so your chest is laying on the cold, wooden surface of his desk.

-You asked for this.. –He hisses before gripping a fist full of your hair, yanking your head back as he enters you without warning. You whine to the feeling of his cock entering you. The eldest begins moving, thrusting in and out of you forcefully, grunting and groaning from time to time. You squeeze him tightly as you feel each and every vein of his cock, throbbing inside you, hitting all the right spots. At one louder moan you let out he plants a spank to your butt, in an attempt to shut you up.

-I needed this... Now be a good girl and take it. –He murmurs as he continues to fuck you into the night.

Mammon

The second-born was in his room, probably counting money or worshiping his credit card. But recently you began feeling left out and replaced by that forsaken credit card. So you decided that it was your time to shine. The plan was to take Mammon's attention away from Goldie. So you looked around your room, wondering what to do. You remember that the demon had left his jacket in your room the last time he was with you and you get a mischievous idea. You grip the jacket, throwing it on your bed before stripping down from your clothes and putting on the jacket. Your naked form in his jacket should get his attention, right? Yeah of course it will, why are you even questioning it? You proceed to rush over to the demon's room and barge in through the door to see him sitting on the couch, toying with his credit card just as you had expected.

-Maaammmoooonnnnn!!!! –You speak. Your voice startles the demon, causing him to drop credit card to the floor. He moves his gaze to you.

-Yo, human! What's the big idea... –His eyes widen to the sight of you - bare, only wearing his jacket. His cheeks take a shade of pink and he rushes to your side, shutting the door closed and locking it a few times.

-MC... What's all this?! Why are ya like this?! –He says and wraps his arms, pulling you into an embrace to feel the warmth of your body against his own.

-You've been spending too much time thinking about money and that credit card of yours that I feel left out.. so I decided to get your attention back to me.. –You murmur and wrap your hands around him, returning the embrace.

-Ya could've just asked! You needn't barge in like that! –He speaks as his hands begin wandering all over your body.

-And MC.. you will get all my attention, ya know? Since ya got me all worked up... –He murmurs and walks you over to the couch, pushing you down, before quickly stripping off his own clothes and joining you. He immediately begins kissing you all over your face, lips, and neck. Touching and squeezing every part of your body he could reach. Grunting and moaning before you even got to touch him..

-Mammon.. –You whine his name and he hums in response.

-Yeah? –He breathes and begins grinding against you. His cock moving against your thigh.

-I need you.. please... –You whine and the demon nods before entering you with a low groan.

-Fuck, MC.. ugh. Jesus.. if I knew that's how you'd feel I'd give up Goldie every day! –He begins thrusting in and out of you with different intensities. Hard and fast.. slow and gentle.. Rough and loving. Just as the Avatar of Greed had always been. His dick hits all the right spots inside you and you moan alongside him as you make love with him in a sinful rhythm.

Leviathan

You and the third-born decided to play games together so you were heading to his room. When you knocked there was no answer. You said the secret phrase but nothing happened. So you pushed the door open and didn't see Levi in his room. You looked around to make sure and sighed upon seeing his room empty, without him. You sat on his gaming chair when you suddenly got an idea. You walked up to his closet and grabbed one of his favourite merch t-shirts. You took your clothes off and tossed them to the side before putting in his T-shirt and a pair of headphones. Not long after the demon came back to his room and when he saw you standing there, with nothing on other than his T-shirt and headphones he blushed heavily.

-M-M-MC.. Y-y-you.. –Hd stutters and you chuckle.

-Come on. We were going to game together weren't we? –You ask and invite him to come sit beside you in front of the console. Leviathan hesitantly walker over to you and sat beside you. You handed him the first controller and he took with trembling hands. But the thing was that he couldn't take his eyes off of you. The way you had sat down was exposing your bare pussy, making the demon shift in his seat. You notice that and let out a subtle chuckle.

-Levi? Is everything okay? –You ask and look at him with a mischievous gaze.

-Y-y-your... you know what.. is sh-showing... –He stammers out and screams, looking away from you to hide his flushed face.

-What, you don't like it..? –You ask, in a teasing tone, taking Levi's hand in yours.

-I... I.. uhm.. I.. –The third-born stutters and you bring his hand to your heat, pressing his fingers against yourself and letting out a soft moan. The demon freezes but soon enough gaining the courage to move his fingers, enough to give you pleasure. You whine softly and move your body, to sit over on his lap. You look down at his flushed face and lean in to kiss him passionately on the lips. Levi lets out a hesitant moan and you chuckle.

-M-M-MC... I.. I.. n-n-need y-you.. –You smile at his words and raise from his lap to pull down his sweatpants before settling yourself onto his cock. Both of you groan in pleasure and you begin moving your body up and down, riding him. The demon's cheeks flush but that doesn't stop him from moaning and whining, while recieving pleasure from your actions. His cock was filling you up, giving you an overwhelming amount of pleasure as you worked him in and out. The rest of the night you and Levi spend making love to each other.

Satan

The fourth-born had invited you to the library to read books together but the thing was you weren't exactly in a mood to read books. Though you couldn't decline Satan's offer since you hardly got to spend time with him this way. But you had a different idea of spending time with the demon. You smirked to yourself as you walked over to his room, opening the door and heading straight over to his closet. You take one fluffy sweater and cat ears that you found on the bottom of one of the drawers. You take your clothes off, throwing them over on his bed and putting the sweater and the cat ears on. You made sure to look at yourself in the mirror to check how you looked before heading to the library. Upon seeing the fourth-born you smirk mischievously.

-Oh Saaaataaaaannnn!!! –You call out of him and he turns his head to look at you. When he noticed how you looked he immediately blushed.

-Aw, MC.. look at you.. looking all adorable like that.. Mmmm come 'ere, kitten.. –You bite your lower lip and let out a subtle chuckle before walking up to Satan. He immediately pulled you down on his lap and caressed your back.

-Such a sweet surprise, MC.. Thank you.. –He mutters and wraps one arm around you while putting the other on your thigh. He gently dragged his hand up your thigh, moving it to your inner thigh. The Avatar of Wrath's hand freezes as he feels you completely bare underneath his sweater.

-Hm? MC? What's this, kitten? Did you forget your panties? –He asks and moves his hand further, gently tracing the outline of your pussy. You whine softly before speaking.

-I didn't wear them..

-Purposely? –Satan asks with a mischievous look on his face and you nod.

-Awh you naughty, naughty kitten. You had no intentions of reading did you? –The demon continues to pleasure you with his fingers and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to suppress a moan. The fourth-born chuckles and picks up the pace.

-Seems like I was right.. –The demon mumbles, making you let out another moan. With that he groans along with you and unzips his pants, taking out his cock.

-Here, kitten... Please me...–You look over at Satan and bite your lip before nodding and taking his cock into your hand, stroking it gently at first put soon enough picking up the pace. The demon groans and throws his head back in pleasure. After the first set of orgasms Satan carries you over to his room and continues making love to you in a more private place.

Asmodeus

You and the fifth-born were doing skincare in his room. There were quite a lot of steps 'for achieving perfect skin' as he said. You had free time and would never say not to some skin therapy since acne has been bothering you lately. Asmo was gentle with your skin, gently massaging the product in before the skin absorbs it. Brushing your hair and leaving tiny kisses to your shoulder or neck while peeling off a face mask away from your face. Suddenly you felt something change. A sudden shift in mood. Not that it was bad though.. but it wasn't the time.. you were doing skin care.. not preparing to have sex.. after some time you realise you cannot take it anymore..

-Asmo, I'll go to the bathroom for a second. –You say, standing up from your chair.

-No problem, hon! Take your time. –He responds and shoots you a gentle smile before entering his bathroom. You were walking around, wondering what to do and how to satisfy this desire when an idea came to mind. You quickly stripped from your clothes and pulled his towel from the hanger, wrapping it around yourself, before exiting the bathroom. Upon seeing you the demon's expression immediately changes from gentle and soft to lustful and mischievous.

-MC? What's that now? Getting more comfortable are we? –He asks and you nod happily, sitting back in your seat. Asmodeus moves his chair closer to yours and drags his fingers over the skin of your thighs.

-Gosh, MC.. you always know how to turn me on.. –He hooks his fingers into your towel, gently removing it from your body, admiring your naked form.

-And you never cease to amaze me either.. you look fascinating.. –The fifth-born bites his lip and leaves a gentle kiss to your shoulder, while dragging his hands all over your body ever so gently but enough to leave a burning trace behind each finger that touches your skin. After a short while the demon stands up, taking off his own clothes and pulling you on top of himself on the bed. Kissing you passionately and his hands wandering all over your body as he enters you gently, provoking a soft gasp out of you. You feel his cock stretch you out in every way imaginable, reaching all the right places over and over again as the demon thrusts in and out of you. And so as the night continues Asmodeus continues making love to you however he pleases while whispering dirty things to your ear. Praising you or telling you how naughty you were.

Beelzebub

It was late at night. Everyone in the House of Lamentation was sleeping except you and Beel. The demon was hungry while you just forgot to check the time while listening to music. Suddenly you get a notification on your phone and you check to see that the sixth-born was inviting you to have a midnight snack with him if you were awake. You wondered whether to go or not but finally decided to do it. Though you for sure knew that you weren't hungry for food. You were hungry for the sixth-born himself. You walked up to your closet and saw a tank top that Beelzebub had left there a couple of days ago while your workout together so you took it. Taking off your clothes you put the tank top on and walk over to the kitchen to see the demon of Gluttony already eating something from the fridge. When he saw you his eyes widened and he nearly dropped what he was eating to the floor. You smile at him.

-Hey, Beel. –You say and walk up to him, feeling his gaze following your every step.

-MC.. –He murmurs and reaches out to touch your shoulder.

-Is this my tank top? –He asks and you nod.

-Yeah. You left it in my room a few days ago.. I thought it was a great occasion to give it back to you. –You answer and shoot a mischievous gaze to the sixth-born.

-But you're wearing it.. how am I supposed to take it...? –Beel asked, finishing his food and grabbing something else from the fridge without tearing his gaze away from your body.

-Take it off of me. If you want it.. –You say and smirk while the demon smiles and nods greedily, before hooking his fingers inside the fabric and pulling the tank top off of you, leaving you completely bare. His eyes widen. The demon wasn't expecting you to be completely naked underneath.

-MC... You are.. –He whispers and you nod.

-Do you like it? –You ask, looking over at the demon with a hopeful gaze.

-MC, you are so beautiful.. –He whispers and shoves the rest of the food in his mouth, devouring it in one bite, before wrapping his arms around you. You look around the kitchen and upon seeing the whipped cream you get a naughty idea. You reach for it and spread some over your chest all the way down to the heat between your legs. You shoot the demon a lustful gaze and he returns it.

-Can I lick it off of you..? –Beel whispers and you nod.

-That's the point... –You answer as the demon hungrily leans down, licking the cream off of you. His movements are gentle but pleasing, as each and every move of his makes you shiver and sends pleasure all over your body. Not long after he gets on his knees and licks the whipped cream from your cunt as well. Though he doesn't stop there. He continues lapping his tongue over your clit and entrance, telling you how delicious you were. He delves within you as you moan in ecstasy. You and Beelzebub proceed to spend a steamy moment in the kitchen before going back to your room together.

Belphegor

The seventh-born had invited you to cuddle with him in the attic so when you got out of RAD you rushed home, throwing your backpack to the side, taking a quick shower and going back to your room. But when you began putting clothes on an idea came to mind. You smile mischievously and wrap a towel around yourself rushing to the twins' room. Thankfully Beelzebub wasn't there so you could walk around freely. You reach the youngest's bed and throw the towel on it before grabbing his body pillow and holding it close to your body. You quickly make your way to the attic and enter the room where you see Belphegor laying on the bed.

-Belphieeeee~ –You whine and he mumbles while moving his gaze towards you. Upon seeing you his eyes widen and he bites his lip. The sleep washes away from his face and mischief replaces it.

-Oh MC? Naked are we? What an amazing surprise. Though you brought my body pillow.. what for? –He asks and you look around the room as if checking for someone else before speaking.

-Too make things more interesting. Where is the fun in just barging in completely naked and exposed? –You say and look at him while he looks you up and down.

-You might be right actually.. this does make things more exciting in a way.. –The demon speaks and walks up to you.

-But the pillow has to go. It's preventing me from my view, MC. –He said as he snitched the pillow away from you and threw it across the room. He pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around you and leaning down to whisper to your ear.

-You are beautiful.. –He breathes and begins kissing his way down your neck, leaving one or two love bites, before walking over to the bed and pushing you on it. You look at him as Belphie takes off his own clothes and climbs on top of you, continuing to kiss you. His hands wander all over your body in a way that every touch, every trace is giving you pleasure. You quirm underneath him and he smiles.

-You like that? –He asks and you respond by nodding your head yes. He chuckles and aligns himself with your entrance before speaking.

-Then I'm going to make it even better. –He whispers before entering you with a swift motion and a quiet groan. You moan softly as you feel his cock entering you. You can feel every curve.. every inch moving inside you as he fucks you slow and deep, whispering sweet things to your ear, bringing you to ecstasy over and over again.

[dotthings]

An outline summary of how Jensen has let out bits of Dean pov about the confession a little bit at a time.

He has chosen his words carefully for a reason. He threads the needle carefully for a reason. Let it unfold, it's not done yet.

In 2021 (dencon), Jensen spoke to Dean's confusion. He said he never played Dean knowing Cas was in love with him, which is true. That's canon. Dean didn't know even if Jensen did for months ahead of time. Jensen had to play it that way, because that's the story, that Dean didn't know how loved he is by Cas. By how he was loved. Jensen in 2021 spoke Dean's pov that because Cas is an angel, it's hard for Dean to grasp the nature of that love, that it's too much (Dean thinks) for a human to grasp, angels are cosmic beings, it's ineffable love (put this with Ben Edlund's recent tweets about "transcendental love") and it's hard to define, Dean doesn't know how to define it. In the "open to interpretation" era. (Which is now defunct, from Cas's pov. In late 2020/early 2021, Cas's confession was still being held in a cushioning of open to interpretation, there are, again, reasons for that).

In 2022 (Vancon), Jensen spoke more deeply about Dean's feelings and realizations Dean (and Jensen) had while sitting on the floor sobbing after Cas was taken. Jensen spoke of Dean's regrets and Dean wanted to say I love you too and hug Cas and about two sentient beings connecting, brothers-in-arms, Dean losing someone he loves very much. In the moment Cas was taken. And now it's even more clear, what Jensen's words at that time hinted at, that while Dean's on the floor sobbing he also had a realization about how Cas loves him and how deeply.

In 2023 (Jib 11), Jensen said the Dean and Cas reunion would be a big embrace and they'd talk about that goodbye, and maybe we'd get to see that. (more on that below).

In 2024 (Purcon 8), Jensen just said Cas's confession being romantic isn't subtext, it's text and that because Dean already had his realization that Cas is in love with him and Dean got past the confusion and "but Cas is an angel and I am a human so I can't possibly grasp that love). Dean knows. And how Dean and Cas don't need to talk about Cas's side of it. That there's an understanding between them and "they found each other." Dean knows, Dean is accepting.

So, in that moment Dean was sobbing on the floor in the bunker, Dean got hit by a freight train of realizations. Jensen is still threading the needle carefully, saying nothing too definitive or in full about Dean's feelings, beyond he reiterates Dean cares deeply for Cas. He says nothing about the reciprocation follow up. Just that there is no need for Cas to explain anything to Dean. Therefore, the confession won't be addressed. The confession itself. Because it's clear. It's known.

This timeline isn't "Jensen's evolving pov" please note. This is Jensen who has known all this about Dean, about Cas, for quite a while now, he's been opening things up in terms of how he talks about it a little at a time for public ear. Please remember all the things in play here and Jensen is the spn boss and the fraught history for the ship and how the TV industry functions.

Let it play out. It's not done yet, either in story, or in how it's going to be spoken about. Let it play out.

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Cleopatra's Secret.

The Ways Of The Wise Woman. Beauty Secrets Of The Nile.

Cleopatra was an empress, a goddess, a mystic woman. She was a lady who knew how to attract the flow of abundance to her.

Cleopatra knew all about beauty and how to keep them strong, powerful and vibrant. To this day, we still don't know everything she has done to be known as the beauty queen she is today.

In my own years, I have found a liking to her. There are moments in my own life, where I feel as though there is a connection of some sort. Im pretty good at taking understanding to the vibration of certain goddesses and queens from past generations. Sometimes they come with a message. Others, like cleopatra, come with divine guidance.

In this reading, I will bless others with a truth that all of us have come to learn, and are still trying to accept.

The first thing is this:

The beauty standard isn't real. Beauty is not something outside of the self. It is always in you, first. Everything else comes as a source of inspiration from the Goddess. You are not only beautiful because the entire world says that you are, that is merely the flesh. It is the vibration, the energy you put in to your work to obtain beauty, and the luxury you have into keeping it.

Cleopatra's secret is that of self-love, and knowing what works for her & using that to her advantage. Especially with her hair.

The thing's that I would like to mention is this, You guys have to want to see it for yourselves. See it in you, first, and the guidance of what works for your body-mind-soul comes right after.

So I have a story I would like to talk about, on what even made me speak about this. One day I was out with one of my favorite looks, but I had to pin it up because it was too much for me. Usually I love it in a ponytail, but today not so much.

Tell me why the entire day I had got nothing but compliments on my hair! My hair! My hair my hair! That's all I kept hearing. And sure I was flattered, but I noticed there was a different vibe coming in when it came to the hair and how everyone gawked at it. People stopped and stared, one asked for a picture, some would just come up to me telling me how beautiful I looked. I was shocked, because again. I wasn't vibing with my hair like this fully.

Not only did they compliment my hair, they complimented the outfit as everything went together (the hair color had matched the dress). And someone even said i looked like a painting, another an empress.

With all the beautiful compliments, It was like they seen a ghost. All jokes. But you catch my drift right?

I had a full day out an about, so the entire day I got tones of compliments, my final compliment of the night is what inspired me to write this when a guy tells me that my hair reminded him of 'cleopatra'.

I said huh? Cleo? Lol.

And of course it was all love. Just jokes.

My hair wasn't even in braids, which is why I found it funny.

And even though he was playing, I had meditation sessions where cleopatra would come out into the meditation, as if a ritual was taking place. This was a while back, before the comment. I noticed I kept feeling her vibes and would catch a couple of syncs from her, thinking it was from working on a couple of goddess readings. Something about what he said rung a bell right after.

Although his compliment was very sweet, Immediately had one of those 'eureka' moments. Like that of Jimmy Neutron. Lol.

'Cleopatra's Secret"

She had been speaking through me all today. With my experience of course. I could imagine how she must feel being known with a distinguished look that nobody else had. A body of her dreams, and an aura of delight. She was a chosen one who was cherished with a royal empire, but not only that, she had looks that could kill. That was her, Cleopatra.

It was a message. The entire day was a reminder. The signature style. The energy, the appeal.

I have spoken before that goddesses and gods tend to carry a vibration and you can channel them. It wasn't me channeling her at the time but I could understand that whatever I was sensing from cleo it showed itself to me that day. I was just relaxing in the sun. Her spirit walked so that we could run.

The Style. The Flair. The Signature Look Of An Era.

GIF by indigaux

She had a DISTINCTIVE look which is why so many gawked at her. She did not look like anyone you've seen in your day. Which is why she was so special. Cleopatra had the LOOK. She was the MOMENT. She was the IT GIRL! In today's language, that's what she'd be. It is about knowing what works and shaping that into your reality. I knew my favorite hairstyle would always get the girls looking ;) but when i toned it up a notch it had the girls singin'!

Is the style you're going for you look forward to wearing? Be it you cut it different, changed the color, adding a little accessory. How does it make you stand out?

From hair to clothes, finding your niche is what works. & letting go of whatever doesn't make the cut in what typically looks like eye candy. You gotta give yourself something you'd desire seeing for a long time. As the people will never make you forget it. ;)

Cleopatra had her own style. Her own flow. Her own grace. She didn't mirror anyone you would see, and she took advantage of that. & I'm here to say you can too.

Here are some tips as far as confidently being yourself go, and then we go into the spiritual baths & luxuries miss cleo would have indulged in herself.

The Sun Child

Cleopatra was a one of a kind. Lets start there. She had the confidence of a woman who knew she was gorgeous. Who knew everyone wanted a glimpse of one of god's most beautiful creations. Everyone wanted to touch her hair, to taste her, to smell her eloquent perfume... She was someone you wanted to have but couldn't imagine the possibilities.. Because in her mind, she knew that all you would get is a fantasy. In the city of the nile rivers, this beauty was chosen to light up the people with her smile and seductive prowess. So much so this helped her win and intrigue men, helping her win wars throughout her dynasty.

So for you, I say to be a light. To conquer your inner strength and use that as your advantage. Take what you can and run with it. Because your aura is a hypnotizer, as is the sun of course.

When your light shines, you become a Goddess, because you are a reflection of what gives us life.

Rose Bath

GIF by mizworldofrandom

One thing Miss Cleopatra was most known for was her beautiful bath water routine. Every night she'd soak into a bath that would make her skin pop, fresh, and glowing.

So here is an inspired Rose petal baths on a sunday afternoon will be a killer for your skin. Add in shea butter with nut milk (oats or almond milk) with some leaves from your garden, soaking into the bath for about 25-45 minutes will give you an everlasting sensation as you awake.

Also a cup of lavender, as well as some sea salt/epsom salt will do the trick for any anxiety you have been feeling. If you don't have that problem, lavender is also good to help with better sleep.

Lemon Balm Milk Tea W/ Almond Milk

GIF by prettygirlthatsparkles

1 cup of almond milk.

1 tbsp of lemon balm / half tps rosemary, 1 tsp basil leaves

1 tps of honey

1 tsp Caramel filling (or to your liking)

pinch of sea salt mixed well (A PINCH)

mix together.

You can infuse the herb extraction into the milk.

Another way is getting 1 1/2 cup of water in a pot. slightly boil for 5 minutes, place the herbs in there for 2-3 for them to begin infusing. Mix the 1 cup of milk into the pot

You can use a hand mixer to give your milk tea that 'fluffy' look at the top.

1 chunk of cinnamon powder drizzeled at the top

Enjoy.

Aura - The Mystique

If there is one thing I got for you all, is that the vibes need to match the face. Your beauty is one thing, but your vibe is another. And if theres anything that you need to do, you need to work your magic on the world ladies. The gift in being you is in your vibration. How does it feel to be you? To wake up as you? To breathe in your skin? To simply BE.

Your energy is magic. Meditating on the way you want to view the world helps the aura shape its reality. You are youthful, vibrant and intelligent. Use that energy to its advantage. Go to places that represent the person you want to become. Study and read the books that give you the most insight on what it is you desire to understand. Look beyond the universe.

And. Tell. Nobody.

The mystery in who you are is that anybody can be perceived, but the beauty in being who you are is that you are perceive-less. And thats the energy you want to embody.

Nobody knows you. But yourself.

Open Your Spirits, Come The New Dawn

So as I'm currently outside writing this, I'm allowing my intuitive mind to come in and talk to me.

Cleopatra was very spiritual, and was heavily impacted by the moons energies. The sun had a big play in her story/impact. But her wisdom came from self-reflection and having play time outside with the moon's glow.

As I written before, she was the sun's darling. Her aura shined bright because she knew she was The One.

And as do you.

You are much greater than the stars because you come from them.

You are the entire sunset, to the moon and back.

You are a gracious creator, because the God's gifted you with skin that reminensed theirs.

You are capable of anything if you let it. So Mote it be.

With Cleopatra's story, her eyes gazed into the moonlight and she became the wind. She held tightly to her reflection as it is the very thing that opens up the mind finding its way into the heart.

She was open to understanding the things she didn't grow up in. She allowed lessons and tribulations to be her story, but to not let it break her.

She was open to the memories of the nile, the banquets, the rituals, the energy, the channels of the godly forces of creation. The energy of the Sun. She was knowing of her strength. Knowing of her power. Knowing of her grace. She knew who she was at a young age, and she always thought highly of her presence.

Til' Next Time..