#INCLUDING their own parents reactions like where are the mothers and fathers and those in between??

[fairysluna]

SINNERS — Prologue.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Maegor I Targaryen x FemOC!Targaryen.

Summary: After Maegor finds out his beloved niece is to be wed with her own brother, he absolutely loses his mind. He can't just let her go.

Tags/TW: incest (niece/uncle), age gap (9 years), slight obsession towards oc, violence, cursing, profanity, basically rhaenyra and daemon / jaehaerys and alyssanne story combined.

Author's Note: so this is an idea that came to my mind after reading Fire and Blood, bc there's no many fics of Maegor in this app, so there it is! enjoy<3

Word Count: 1.5k

NEXT PART

A year after their wedding, Prince Aenys and Lady Alyssa were blessed with the birth of their first child; a beautiful little girl whom they named Aenelys and who would become the new heir of the Iron Throne. 

When Aenelys Targaryen was born, Maegor and Visenya were the only people in the realm who did not celebrate. The bitterness in their faces was quite hard to hide as the eldest son of Aegon the Conqueror introduced the sweet princess in the family. 

Aenelys was born a healthy little girl. Many people claimed that the small princess has been blessed with the features of a true Valyrian; her eyes were lilac, her skin pale and soft, and her hair was white as snow. Others said that the Gods had given her the gift of beauty, as everyone would drool over her even as a newborn. 

Maegor, of nine years of age, was completely mad with the birth of his niece, for now he was a step further from the Iron Throne. He was consumed by jealousy, same as his mother Visenya, because even her grandsire, Aegon, was leaving Maegor aside for her. Thanks to that, Aenelys grew up being a little spoiled. Even when her brother, Aegon, was born three years later, they still would give her everything she asked. 

As the years passed, Aenelys prove herself as a wise and delicate young lady, and her beauty was claimed to be out of this world. By the time she turned twelve, she was loved by all, including the small folk, who would celebrate her name day every year. Maegor saw this as a threat. He would grow jealous of her with every year that passes. 

Until he decided that he was going to break her. He wanted to ruin that little girl.

His plan started as soon as she turned thirteen, the age he had when he was forced to marry Lady Ceryse Hightower. Maegor was twenty-and-two years of age when he first caught his niece’s eye. He showed himself as someone approachable, as someone she could trust. And it was easier than he thought. 

Aenelys soon would run towards him to talk about her problems, to find comfort in his strong arms. She, of course, had no idea what his intentions truly were, as she was too innocent to even think the worst of him. Her parents, the now King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, had warned her about the dubious intentions of her beloved uncle but she just pretended to listen… She was growing fond of him. 

Then Aenelys turned fourteen, and Maegor called her to the Council Room where he was seated on the chair where her father usually sat. Aenelys ignored that detail and immediately smiled when she saw him, her doe eyes staring at him while the blush in her cheeks were proof of her shyness around him. She knew she was starting to see him as a man, and her body was reacting to it without her mind’s consent. 

“Uncle…” She softly spoke, walking towards him. Maegor smirked seeing her blushed cheeks, he had her right where he wanted. “Did you ask for me?”

“I did, my sweet dove.” He stood up from his chair and grabbed her hands. 

The size difference was quite obvious. Maegor, who has been training and gaining muscles since the tender age of seven, was notoriously bigger than his niece in every sense of the word. Aenelys was just like her father, thin and small… weak. 

“I have a gift for you.” He claimed, softly pinching her cheek. 

“A gift?” Her eyes lit up with excitement as he said those words. Maegor smiled with malice as he saw her reaction. 

“Yes, dove.” He nodded. 

He shows her a necklace, one that matched with the Conqueror’s crown perfectly. It was black, of Valyrian steel, and with a pendant that carried a small red jewel that shone bright as fire. It was beautiful.

“Oh, Gods, uncle…” She mutters, touching the ruby in the necklace, “it’s gorgeous!”

“Turn it around,” he said.

And she obeyed immediately. Aenelys looked at it with glistening eyes, if she wasn’t in love with him, now she certainly was. On the back there were his initials, a small ‘MT’ graved on the metal. She couldn’t help but smile, seeing it as something innocent; as a kind gesture. But Maegor saw it as if he was claiming her. That necklace would say to everyone that she was his, his property.

It was a way to say to everyone that she belonged to him.

“This is too much, uncle…” She sighed, “thank you so much.”

“No need for that, dove,” he spoke with an odd soft voice. “Now turn around.”

She couldn’t hide her nervousness anymore. As she turned around, holding her silver white hair up some butterflies appeared on her belly, which became even worse as she felt his hands touching her skin. The shivers down her spine were visibly obvious, and Maegor smiled pleased at her reaction.

“There you go, let me see,” he commanded after he finished. Aenelys turned around and bit her lip shyly. “It looks perfect on you, dove,” he claimed.

He leaned forward towards her, a slow movement that made her hold her breath. He kisses her forehead as he caresses her cheeks with a gentle touch. It felt oddly soft, so careful and delicate. Aenelys giggled in response.

After that day, no one ever saw her without that necklace around her neck. Her father, the King, would suspect that necklace. He never saw the side of it that had Maegor’s initials, for when she showed the present to her parents she decided to omit that part of the gift. Something inside of her told her that it wasn’t a good idea.

Two years later, Aenelys became her uncle’s loyal companion. 

Lady Ceryse would be long forgotten by him as his attention was all over his niece at this point. They would spend entire days together, doing races with their dragons, Maegor teaching her how to fight with a sword or just the two of them walking through the gardens. And that caused many rumors about the nature of their relationship around the Red Keep.

When those words reached the Queen’s ears, she was disgusted by it. Her daughter was still a maiden, but everyone thought otherwise thanks to how close she was with her uncle, and how much time they would spend together… and by themselves. She needed to do something before it became worse. 

So she ran to speak with her husband. 

“We must wed her… is either that or send your brother to Oldtown, to his wife’s hometown.” She demanded to her husband. “People are saying she lost her maidenhead with Maegor! We must do something before it is too late.”

“Wed her to whom?” Aenys asked, calm and serene as always.

“She is the princess… if we announce that she is looking for someone to marry, we will have a line with Lords that would be pleased to take her hand.” 

“Aenelys might not like that idea…” Aenys warned her, “we know our daughter, she is sweet but when she’s not given what she’s asking, she can be a nightmare.”

“Then what do we do, huh?” Queen Alyssa looked at him with despair. “If we keep waiting, mayhaps your brother will actually deflower our child!”

“Maegor is many things, he might be impulsive and reckless… but he would never do harm to her, he loves her.” He justified.

“I see the way that man looks at my sweet Aenelys, he’s a menace.” Alyssa muttered, “If we are in a hurry we can marry her to Aegon.”

“Our son?”

“Aegon the Conqueror married his two sisters, we shall keep the tradition and marry Aenelys with our Aegon.” Alyssa proposed. “She is a dutiful girl, she will not complain, and she loves her brother.”

“It’s a nice match, wife… I might give you that.” Aenys accepted. “If you want her to be married, then let her get married. She’s out of age, it is time.”

Queen Alyssa nodded, satisfied with her husband’s final word. But even though they thought their conversation was private, they were terribly wrong. 

Maegor had suspected of the Queen’s intentions for a long time, so he would take advantage of his mother’s spiders to spy the conversations of Alyssa, knowing that she had the intention of getting Aenelys away from him. 

When the small child came to his side in order to inform him what he had heard, Maegor froze. His jaw clenched and his hands became fists. An odd feeling appeared on his gut as his eyes darkened and the anger took over his body, he was soon fuming while his mind traveled at the speed of light trying to come up with an idea to know what he was supposed to do now. 

There was something certain, though; he would not allow this. Aenelys was his, the necklace around her neck was proof enough of that. 

No one would steal her away from him.

[randomdragonfires]

Fabulous chapter 3 of Time Can't Stop Me Quite Like You Did btw.

So I'm guessing he's legit sleeping with both? but damn I hope she tells him she's figured out who the other woman is..

Hello lovely anon! Thank you ::)

With regards to Aemond's little mess and Alys being labelled 'the other woman,' I have some thoughts. Long character dissection below.

Aemond has always been more mature and well-read than his peers, but this trait truly began to show after his accident. The loss of his eye compounded his insecurities, making him feel as though he needed to work harder to compensate for what he had lost. His desire to gain his father Viserys’s approval became a driving force, as he saw how effortlessly Rhaenyra's children seemed to win their father’s favor, a favor he never received. While Aemond is undoubtedly angry at his father’s lack of reaction to his injury, much of his motivation stems from deeper insecurities and a yearning for his father to be better, particularly toward his mother and siblings.

This desire to impress Viserys shaped Aemond into someone highly focused and driven. He dedicated himself to performing exceptionally in everything he did, but at the cost of becoming emotionally distant. While he maintained surface-level friendships with those in his orbit - the children of wealthy families who would eventually become business collaborators or competition - he never truly allowed anyone to get too close unless they're his mother, his siblings or Cole. In this regard, his connections were strategic, rather than personal.

Wylde however, is a different case.

Given her mother's friendship with Alicent and her eventual passing, Wylde is brought into the fold as much as Alicent deems appropriate. She's not the best mother by any means - she's not even that open with her own children, as is the case with most society mothers - but she sees that the kids take care of each other, so she simply enables Wylde's presence by welcoming her and lets them grow together. There is a certain comfort in it for her, given how her negligent Viserys was to the point of driving a perfect woman like her to an affair with Cole the bodyguard - the man who eventually becomes the calm in her storm, the love of her life.

Wylde basically grows up as part of the unit. Aegon takes on a big brother mantle even if he's not interacting with them on a regular basis - remember that scene where he's dancing with a kid!Wylde in the first chapter?

She is a fairly important presence in Helaena's life - it isn't much, but given how inclined she is to not go out there and stick to her own family, it's a lot. Daeron and Wylde of course grow up thick as thieves - same age, same classes, all of it. They're the definition of the young friendship trope and they've been in it all.

Aemond, however, was not initially part of this close-knit orbit. From a young age, he kept mostly to himself. Though he was aware of his popularity as a teenager - after all, he was the brooding, motorcycle-riding billionaire heir with perfect grades - he was careful to avoid emotional entanglements outside of what he's already got. The other kids may have admired him, but Aemond’s introverted nature allowed him to maintain a sharp, disciplined focus. Still, for all his emotional distance, Aemond held a soft spot for those who had been in his life for a long time, including Wylde, even if he didn’t initially interact with her much.

Aemond grew up in a conservative, old-money family where Alicent’s strict parenting set certain expectations, yet his worldview shifted significantly after meeting Alys at university. Alys was a woman who had lived - someone who had experienced life, pain, and pleasure in a way Aemond never had. She introduced him to a new way of being: one where a person could be at the pinnacle of success, the most well-read in the room, and still indulge in life’s pleasures without compromising their guard.

For Aemond, this was a revelation. His entire persona had been built around the idea of staying emotionally detached to avoid being hurt. Alys, however, showed him that he could live both worlds - he could enjoy life while staying sharp and focused. Their intellectual and emotional compatibility intrigued him, and their chemistry kept him hooked. He was drawn to her not just because of her knowledge, but because of the way she navigated the world with such control. Aemond’s relationship with Alys is more than just attraction - it’s about learning a new way to protect himself while still being able to not just live, but thrive. Imagine a worldly, mysterious and intriguing professor with society connects and crazy stories, all with a sad past to match - that's Alys. How can he possibly say no to that?

So no, she's not the other woman. Not in Aemond's eyes. She's someone that's widened his horizons. BUT Wylde won't see it that way - her reaction to it is natural. Concern, worry - and because she's grown feelings for him, hurt.

Despite his want to maintain the casual nature of it all, there are things that he doesn't account for - that Alys is an unattached to her partners as they come, and his feelings for Wylde (and hers for him) are too serious to involve someone else.

Aemond’s growing attachment to both Alys and Wylde sets the stage for a messy chapter 3. He believes that if Alys can balance her emotional detachment with the pleasures of life, he can too. What he doesn’t realize, though, is that Alys is emotionally removed from her partners by choice, while his feelings for Wylde - and hers for him - are far too serious to involve someone else. He’s playing a dangerous game, caught between two women and two very different sets of emotions.

The final chapter of their story will be a mess of unresolved feelings and emotional tension, leading to where Aemond will have to confront the reality of his relationships with both Alys and Wylde and figuring out what he wants, ultimately. I’ve taken a fair amount of inspiration from Sally Rooney in terms of tone, trying to keep the dynamics as realistic and emotionally grounded as possible. The hope is that I don't make it a wild ride, but simply as a part of their lives that is beyond their control and overwhelming, if you get what I mean.

Anyway, sorry about the rambling lmao. I just needed to discuss the POVs and motivations, really. I've been talking about this with @humanpurposes @chattylurker and @aemondstark a lot, and it's quite nice to have someone ask me about the mess that is this triangle hehe.

[athena-the-writer]

🇧🇷 anon here!

I hope it sparkles some inspiration on you!

A headcanon (or any other way you prefer) of Kratos kind of adopting a teen!reader who’s a orphan. (All platonic OF COURSE) Including some interaction between Atreus, Mimir and reader, please!

A/N: Oooo interesting idea! I think it works well especially because he's gone through changes. I'm going to do this in the setting after Ragnorak

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mmm none aside from spoilers

This was during the period where they were rebuilding everything

While getting things out of the way Kratos has seen your unconscious body underneath the ruble and got you out at quickly as he could He took you to Freya to get you medical help as quickly as possible. She said you'd be just fine, food, rest, and some herbs should do the trick

Unfortunately, you were one of those affected by the drastic war, and your home was wrecked. Your family had been sadly killed during the process leaving you behind. It was things like this that honestly made Kratos feel guilty about having the war started in the first place. However, what's done is done. 

What he can do now is help you in whatever way you need. When you came you had introduced yourself and of course thanked everyone for their help

“Well, if it wasn’t for this mountain right here, not sure where ya be now las“

“Who said that?“ you asked as you saw neither gods speak. Kratos reaches behind him and pulls out a head 

“I did!“ “AH!“ “well, I suppose that’s the normal reaction for seeing a speaking severed head eh.“

Aside from getting used to mimir you had adjusted pretty well. Each of them giving you their own advise and “training”. Certain milestones were met with him as you grew up as well.

Kratos taught you to hunt just as he did with Atreus. Freys taught you about nature, herbs, and even some magic. Atreus would also come around now and then and you’d have some time together, it’s like you two were siblings!

“So has father taught you to fight yet?”

“Mmm not yet, he said to tell him when I was ready or if I wanted to anyway”

“Awh, I never got that option”

“We’ll you guys were in the middle of Ragnarok and right now we’re trying to rebuild”

“Makes sense but still”

Mimir asked Kratos who his favorite child was and he said “none, I value my children equally”

For him to consider you his child honestly made you feel some type of way…you felt a certain sadness but also happiness. You may have lost your parents but you also gained a father, a brother, the head of an uncle and even a mother figure.

And in some ways it also gave kratos more time and more chances to become more of a father. He learned things about you and you learned things about him

Whenever Atreus would come around he’d be surprised about how much he’s grown. Asking about his travels, how he’s been and everything. It was always a pleasant surprise

Like one time kratos asked for his favorite color which at that point was strange for Atreus but also something he was open to

Whenever he looked at you in some ways he also saw calliope. In ways it made his heart ache and in other it leaped with joy. You may have been someone else’s child but you were his daughter.

[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty. Ch. 8

A Homelander X F!Reader/ Dadlander fanfic.

A/N: Should be posting ch. 9 soon, thank you for reading and if you wish to be added to the taglist plz let me know in the comments, prev. chapters in my masterlist pin post and below... should be fixing my pin post soon to make it easier to find.

Tags: Mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter Eight

Whisky

Being asked to leave by morning had been upsetting, but he was smart enough to know it was too soon... things had to be more formal before introducing this new stage of your lives to your children, admittedly he could tell something was off but as long as it didn’t ruin his plans he would pretend not to care, he loved the sex, and this feeling of fullfiment brewing inside him.

You were just as he had left you, every reaction just as he remembered, his only disappointment was not finding any milk in you, you taunting as he suckled with the facts he had missed out on just how full and amazing they had been when Helena was still feeding, even mentioning you had taken photos– for your boobs did look incredible. 

He parted after bruising your lips with his own, wanting to kiss you more, almost getting lost as he prodded for another round, you would have given in but as the neighbors woke up, you pushed him gently saying goodbye with a peck and the flutter of your eyelashes against his skin.

 But as he stared at your face before leaving, some improper desires clouded his vision, his own fantasies materializing as he headed home.

He left feeling starved, wanting to feast so desperately... wanting to see you again.

You sat on your kitchen bench, holding a bowl of oatmeal feeling sick, it had felt good, god it did– when was the last time you felt that good? And he could go on for hours with that mouth of his… but the weight of your actions had proven bitter on your tongue.

It was the natural course of things after all…

You didn’t need to love him, you just needed him to love you.

You just needed to win him over, no matter how dirty the tricks you had to use.

But as the little wannabe murderer walked into the kitchen, you fantasized of running away, far where nobody could find you… it made you sick, to feel this way... when you loved only her.

“So here’s the deal… I am going to push myself to be the best step-mother candidate he’s ever seen, I am going to get that asshole to be your dad and you are going to become part of the best fucking Superhero tag-team that ever graced this cursed fucking country! I want you better than the TNT twins, The Marvels and Legacy!” You hopped off the bench– Phantasma and Poltergeist will be household names!” You turned to her putting the bowl down– Helena you better get yourself so deeply rooted inside those labs that they will not know how to move a pen or take a shit without your input! So from now on we work together, no more improv.”

Helena was a tad surprised as she formed a stepping stool to take a serving of fresh oatmeal off the stove.

“I am glad we can see eye to eye, mother.” She took cinnamon and honey, building her breakfast as she watched you closely– I don’t think Elmo’s parents are going to like me after yesterday… had enough time to muse on that mistake last night.” she sounded apologetic.

“Leave it to me. Nigel and Sven will come around. Who wouldn’t want their kid to team up with The Homelander’s kid. Fuck I’ll even have your father make them work with us if that’s what it takes!” You spat.

Helena seemed pleased with herself as she heard you, proud that you would use the man if you had to, guess she had learned this from somebody afterall.

You didn’t take the day off, you had no time to waste in the end.

Ashley was busy, too many reports to read and correct, too many people to manage, and her research had finally bare some interesting results, she sunk in her chair giving herself a couple minutes to spare for this news preparing for the worse– Homelander had in fact impregnated at least 2 other women over the years. One had died tragically mid-pregnancy from a genuine freak accident, and the other had an abortion six weeks into her pregnancy, by sheer luck only you and Becca Saunders had won the lotto– that was one less headache on her plate, she care not for Saunders leaving that page behind with the legacy of Stan Edgar, content to just having Ryan around as proof that woman ever existed… You on the other hand, she felt sorry for, he had been honest with Ashley about your time together and reading the reports of his vendetta made her frustrated-- why he simply didn’t kill you back then… perhaps it would’ve been a mercy if he had killed you, wanting to see you suffer first.

So when she saw you walk into her office in the middle of the day, she took out the Advil.

“I thought I had to make an appointment for these things” You said.

“I've been waiting for you– take a seat please.”

Her expression seemed genuinely kind.

“What can I do for you?”

“Homelander… What is he writing? I have no choice but to agree, but I don’t really want to ask him just in case he skirts thru the important details… if he deceives me for no reason”

Ashley had the script draft on her cabinet but she wouldn’t hand it to you.

“Is simple… you and him had a torrid and turbulent on-and-off secret relationship, after Ryan was born he gained primary custody, then you guys got back together because you’re bad for each other and unable to leave one another for too long…you had Helena soon after you broke up– It will be spicy and romantic! lovers that just can’t get enough– a match made in hell!! Oh god it would be so dramatic, people are just gonna eat it up! anyhoo… you found yourself keeping Helena.” She swallowed looking down at her keyboard– There's a lot of little details we are working on for consistency. Already got a pre-production team looking at sets for photoshoots and we already have some cute babies in mind to play Helena and Ryan for some supplemental family videos and pictures.”

“I didn’t know him until after his kid was born… actually.” You did the math in your head there for a second for the first time, Ryan was tall– massive for his age. You assumed he was 12 or 13 at first glance, it stayed that way until you were told otherwise, Helena was on the other hand short, you still clung to a spurt growth down the line so your mind hadn’t noticed just how close they were in age– that motherfucker cheated on me!”

For all the grief he would give you, he hadn’t even hesitated to do the same.

Ashley sank in her chair.

“I assume you two would like to talk to him…” she bit her lips– we really need you, and your daughter… you won’t change your mind, right?” she cringed.

“Whatever…” You might as well have been cursing– I’ll do it but what is in it for me?” You tap your foot eager to run and leave.

“You will be financially compensated and have our very top in-charge of Phantasma… Homelander informed me of your plans. I’m thinking of giving her a team for when she debuts, got a couple talents that I'm sure could make a fantastic team alongside her when they become of age!” She spread her hands in arch to announce her grand vision– ‘Teenage Kix: The new order!’ We retired the name after the second iteration sold so poorly… but I can just imagine an all female team, and I guess one boy… of rebels with a cause! The next generation!” she says gleefully– We have been trying to increase our overseas Supe presence… so this new team would be a great launching pad for Vought!”

You looked at her with mild distress as she got all excited, clearly he had been talking without you around, for god knows how long.

“We got this nine-year old in Japan and this eleven year old Sudanese girl in France… their powers are so incredible, it would be a waste if we leave them as simple local celebs instead of bringing them to the global forum… to have them spearhead the most inclusive and international team Vought ever produced, heck we never even had an all-female team so Helena being captain would be historic!”

She dug through her cabinets to hand you photographs of those two little girls, you just saw girls much like your own, one with spider powers and one that could make vivid illusions according to the short report presented.

“I guess… and Ryan?”

Her excitement died immediately.

“Ryan would debut solo… but–” Ashley realized what you meant, pushing the CEO aside and forcibly bringing back Ashley to the front– We were hoping you and Homelander could take care of that whole family situation… we really don’t want this to go south… but Homelander well–

“He’s impatient and an asshole. I get it… I’ll talk to him.” You said while pushing the photos back at her– you have my full cooperation.”

Ashley said nothing when you left grinding your teeth as you pushed your chair back and headed out the door.

Marching towards 99th, he was in a meeting with The Seven at the sight of you, his serious expression softened demanding the room to be left alone for you, noting that crease on your nose with concern, you walked past them, his step was light as he basically frolicked towards you as you both gained privacy and just as he was at arm's length readying himself for a kiss– you smashed your fist on his face.

You squealed behind gritted teeth, clutching at your hand, beating in pain, your bones aching and your muscles on fire, huffing and cursing spit, blood dripping down onto the ground as you squeezed your injured hand, unsure if bones had broken, looking up your face boiling and shaky, as your hand swelled up.

“Ouch.” He said nonchalantly, tilting his head to try and catch a still glimpse of your hand– "you have no broken bones… but I’ll get you some ice.”

“Fuck you.” you hissed.

“What did I do now?” He took your hand by force, his voice winging as he spoke to you, pressing your fingers open to inspect the torn skin on your knuckles– do you feel better now?”

“You cheated on me!”

“What?” He blinked a couple times unsure as to what you meant– we aren’t… are we?”

“Becca.” You spat her name burning your tongue with the vowels– you fucked her when you were dating me! All the bullshit you did to me over “cheating”, everything you did to me you did while fucking some whore on the side!! You hypocritical piece of shit!! You fucked her and got her pregnant while you were with me!!” You shouted.

Homelander bit his lips, giving it a loud smack as he paced himself around you.

“We weren’t serious when that happened…” He said in a nervous tone.

“In what world do you live in where me calling you my ‘boyfriend’ and you calling me your girlfriend two months in– doesn’t mean you are my boyfriend you fucking bastard!!” Your throat cracked– you… you’re unbelievable… what happened last night… that was a mistake!” You cried in pain, squeezing your wounded hand.

“I was with Maeve when I started dating you, and that wasn’t a secret! Pardon me for thinking we weren’t serious but after Maeve and I broke up four months into ‘US’-- then that's when you and I were serious!!” He tugged at your wounded hand forcing you closer, you twisted and cried as he squeezed the wounds– Becca was a one night stand. Nothing just a couple hours of shit sex… Maeve and I weren’t doing anything… you… you were special… different.” he stuttered.

“What do you mean by that? You said Maeve was just a PR stunt to drive-up sales.” Your hand no longer bothered you, your mouth quivering lightly as a hole built itself inside your core.

“She had her stupid dyke girlfriend on the side… always moping about her as if I couldn’t hear her… It all stopped mattering after you– I know I was a whore. But once I met you. I decided I was going to become an ‘honest’ man for you.” He softened his grip on you, yet keeping you close, unable to leave you alone– I dreamt of us getting married in this lovely old church in Guatemala, of a life together, so I moved on from her– and Becca… just a blip. just a hole. Not you.”

“That’s a pretty way to say I was your mistress.” You could’ve cried, but he didn’t deserve to see you like that anymore, you couldn't dare letting him think he could comfort you, if you did.

“I never saw you in such manner… you were my Y/N… not my mistress… not once were you that to me… You were the one” he said genuinely upset, as you tried to taint those bittersweet memories even further– that’s the truth.”

You pushed him away floating to the nearest chair just to slump, as your legs began to give in, as the pain in your hand competed with the one in your chest.

“Before I run off up the stairs and throw myself down 99 floors– just tell me… is there any other life altering truths you wish to bestow upon me that you had so kindly sheltered me from besides informing me I was a secret homewrecker.”

“You aren’t going to kill yourself, right?” He was panicking inside.

“Piss off… now spit it out.” You looked away thinking solely of the door, and the tempting window.

“You know how I told you Becca was held captive– He blubbered nervously, his chin moving too much, his posture all twitchy– where they kept Ryan.”

“Yeah in a sound stage, what about it?” You replied frankly annoyed.

“Her husband thought I murdered her but she was alive this whole time and thought I did it– so he’s like my mortal enemy, and he even brought my dad to kill me– That terrorist attack was him and my dad. William Butcher and Soldier Boy plus Maeve came after me… but after my father tried to kill Ryan we had a truce… he’s been quiet but I still think he’s planning something… I also let that plane drop, couldn’t have saved them… could’ve saved some… but there’s a really bad video that could ruin me from that day… I also sheltered that headpopper from a while ago, and so many murders…”

“Soldier boy? Father?” You stared at him in confusion.

“My deadbeat dad.”

“WHAT!!!??” You jumped on your feet, the chair sliding rapidly behind you– wait isn’t that Butcher dude the guy who killed Stillwell!?”

“Yes… also Becca’s husband and I guess Ryan’s stepfather.” he said bitterly– "you don’t care about the other things?” He sounded anxious for a moment.

“Why would I!? We already discussed that years ago!” You responded apathetically to the situation, him killing had never been an issue– So you fucked some married floosy like the whore you are and drove a man insane… Helena and Ryan go to a very easily accessible school and you are telling me a serial killer-slash-terrorist you’ve been antagonizing for years is still out-there!! A guy who fucking brought a super-terrorist to US soil!!!”

“He would not dare to put a hand on them.” he scoffed at the idea, finding it beyond absurd.

“You mean he wouldn’t hurt Ryan.” you said, pushing the bile down your throat.

“Nothing nor anybody will hurt Helena… I promise.” His expression was confident– I can have a security detail keep an eye on her when she’s at school after we go public… thanks for agreeing with Ashley. I was thinking you, me and the kids can go have dinner tomorrow and break the news to them.”

You shot him dirty looks.

“Our kids could still be in danger. Why did you send them to school and not homeschooled them!!?” you argued, your voice turnign frayed– Are you insane!! They cannot be outside!”

“No!” He shouted– I will not deny my son of the childhood I never was allowed to have! I AM NOT going to be like Voguebaum!” He snapped shouting back at you.

You had to control your breathing, waiting for him to calm down as those red flares coloured your skin, he struggled with his labored breathing, brushing his temples as he relaxed, and you found somewhere else to shrink into.

“You literally let me come all the way here to break my hand.” You slouched on your new seat, chuckling lightly as you wiped some blood off on your pants.

“Is not broken.” he chuckled back– thought you just spit on me again.”

His mood straightened back to normal forcing a tad limp smile.

“I might after I get a drink… be a good boy and fetch mommy a scotch.” He did so obediently, you admired the city skylines as you waited for your drink, you took a quick sip before throwing it at his crotch– bitch ass.”

“Did that feel good?’ A little light reflected on your glass.

“A little bit” You giggled staring at the ‘piss’ stain on his crotch– don’t think we are fucking ever again” You growled– I’ll do my best Lorelai Gillmore impersonation and you’ll play the charming and faithful husband… I’ll help you raise your kid and you can help raise ours but we will never be together.”

“Only for the camera and around the kids… I guess we can go all 1950’s and have two nice little beds in our bedroom– maybe a blowjob for my birthday and whatever you want for yours.” He sounded as he was joking but you weren’t certain.

“Depends how nice of a wedding you had in mind. Otherwise I hope your stock up on tenga eggs” You threw the glass to the ground, letting it shattered by his boot– I wish you had been John Gillman all along and not Homelander… I wanted to marry that guy… there was this little place near my old house, a nice little park with lots of flowers…”

You had loved that memory, as embarassing tears returned, you now had no idea who was the man you had wanted all those years ago, everything built on lies, that younger you that had been ignorant was the happiest you’ve been, now you wish you could return to just being an overworked single mum, wished you could just look back at those days and still find glee if you tried… you wouldn’t dare complain anymore if you could.

“I’ll buy a million flowers just for you– picture this a carpet of flower petals as you walk down the aisle in a custom Lhullier gown, chiffon all over the ceiling, and chandeliers illuminating the roof of an antique church… Helena playing the piano, the whole world looking at you. So dinner?”

You gave him a sordid smile, more curious as to how he supposedly knew bridal designers– unable to shake up the picture of his bedroom housing a bunch of wedding magazines under his bed instead of porn.

“Let’s go to Junior’s– lovely family restaurant…" and full with people... lots of people, so he will behave-- and please don’t dress so fancy… just wear a baseball shirt and some khakis like a normal person.” You got up, your head heavier than your heart, aching more than your eyes– why didn’t you kill me a minute ago?”

“I am not making the same mistakes I did with Becca or Maeve, and you are angry… you’ll come around.” He pulled at you lifting your chin– so marry me, and make it official-official.”

“Sure. Okay. I’ll marry you. Why the fuck not?– am looking forward to a lifetime of celibacy while you fuck around all accross the tri-state area.” You sniffed a tad– love being a femcel.”

“Oh don’t be like that… my cock is all yours, just put a bag over my head and hate fuck me like a normal person, stupid– You know I can hold my breath real good.” He purred.

You gave his body a quick up-and-down, thinking of last night, he certainly was easy on the eyes, and still made sure to give you a happy ending.

“I almost think you will be happy with that.” you look at him confusedly, was he so desperate to keep you he would whore himself out so cheaply?-- just you and me playing house… is that all you want, really?”

“Well after last night, and after hanging out with Ryan and Helena together… I think I want another one.”

“Another what?”

“Kid.”

“Okay whatever”

His expression puzzled you, that wavy smile and the loud cogs in his brain working overtime as he realized that this was an event actually taking place and not a rehearsed and overplayed fantasy scenario, he had never anticipated your response, he had never expected the earnest response, it had only hit him… that you two had just gotten engaged.

He turned you around pushing you out the door.

Guess this wasn’t a cheap fuck from the local crackhead after all, as you realized you might've just agreed to have another kid... even if the odds weren't stacked in his favour.

“A son preferably” he spoke before disappearing at hyperspeed, leaving your hair glued to your face.

You broke down in laughter and tears, caught in a storm but it was absolutely hilarious nevertheless, people gawked at you as you cried and cackled by the foot of the metal statue.

You took your phone and googled the designer and gosh the work was fucking gorgeous, you made a note to have Helena break into his house to look for those bridal magazines later.

Homelander was choking on nothing, collapsed in his bedroom as his heart was about to explode, he couldn’t believe himself.

“You fucking imbecile! How are you so stupid!!?” The voice yelled at him, he recoiled, making himself small in the foot of his bed– you… you… goddammit tiger… how could you do such a thing” The voice was softer now.

“I didn’t think she would say yes so nonchalantly!” He cried.

“We didn’t even have a mariachi band! No flowers… god that was so ugly and cheap! So fucking embarassing.”

“But we got engaged didn’t we!?”

“Fake-engaged… send her flowers and go get a ring... make it real you cheap fuck!"

He nodded softly at his reflection, finally calming down, thinking he had actually done something right.

“A wife… finally a wife… and she can’t leave me… she can’t…” he whispered– so… we did it.”

“Don’t celebrate, she might change her mind.”

“Thought I was a pessimist,” he joked.

By night when you reached home there would be multiple knocks on your door, men carrying extravagant flower arrangements right after the other, even waking you up the next morning with carnations. Helena seemed pleased with your developments even if it made her nose a little itchy thst the house smelled like spring.

Leaving cards saying “thank you and I love you.”  for you to read.

It was cute, but excessive.

Homelander stared at the 30+ different cake options and the endless pages of the overwhelming restaurant menu, thinking of how many years it would take him to kill the calories, the place smelled sickly sweet and the people around were loud, at this point he might as well gone to fucking Chilli’s. His only consolation was that you did have a chuckle at his outfit, a dodger’s shirt, beige khakis and those sexy ass white New balance…the versace shades did come back, just to ruin the look.

Ryan and Helena exchanged expectant looks, both knowing you both were about to say something life changing and obvious, Homelander could smell his son’s anxiety feeding into his own as he shuffled in his seat.

The brown New York classic indoors were fun and charming, a hundred year old venue was cool, but he wanted this to be over and admire later.

“So… I have something to tell you Ryan.” He was so pale, ordering dessert first before dropping the news, his fork pushing the maraschino cherries around digging to get to the cheesecake he had no desire to eat.

“You guys are dating.” He blurted taking a bite of his layered carrot cheesecake.

“Well…” He swallowed hard, he looked at you for support, a little relieved inside admitedly.

Your hand reached out for this little boy’s arm, mustering a sweet honest smile, taking a long deep breath before speaking.

“Your father and I are getting married” Helena choked on red velvet frosting, trying not to die there, she expected you to get here but not immediately– I know I cannot replace your mother nor will I try, but I hope you can let me help take care of you, and that you can guide me to do so in a way that honors her memory.” 

You choked slightly on your own words.

As the kid looked at you in disbelief, unsure if he should take himself away from you, he looked at his father who hid his face with shame, checking if the people around this booth could overheard this.

“Your father and I dated for a couple years after he met your mother… We were both young and we led very different lives so we separated… but we had Helena…” He finally gave his son reassurance, stroking his back as you spoke camly– we had been seeing each other for a while now… so well here we are… We know it is sudden but after everything you went through in the last two years it just seemed irresponsible to throw myself into your life… but this isn’t better… is just not possible to contain, and is unfair in Helena.”

“She’s my sister…?” He looked at his father desperate for answers, with blotches of pink forming on his neck.

He had to give you points for how easy your lies flowed out of your tender lips, that was not in the script he had planned for tonite, he by now had forgotten all talking points he had planned for not that they mattered anymore, he even had you rehearse some but frankly you didn’t bother memorizing them either. 

“Did you know?” he asked Helena.

“I suspect it… I mean we got the same eye color.” she points with her fork.

“I didn’t know about you, Helena… your mother and I did not end on amicable terms.” He looks at you with believable tragedy, no doubt from years of acting on his belt and actual feelings– it is quite regrettable but we have reconciled, and that’s all that matters now.”

“I made mistakes when it came to my daughter and your father” Your mouth tasted like horseshit so you swallowed hard– I am sorry but I hope we can… get along… We both want you and Helena to grow up as a family. I won’t force you to accept me, and we won’t be moving in together any time soon but please give me a chance.” You said starting to tremble in your seat.

The kid and your kid looked at each other.

“You two are the worst.” Your daughter spoke on his behalf as the kid seemed lost.

“Is okay… I think this could’ve been worse” Ryan said– you seem nice Ms. L/N…”

“You can call me Y/N or a nickname if you like.” You said with your most saccharine voice– Your dad and I were thinking maybe going together for a holiday… bit of a bonding experience.”

Ryan and Helena contemplated the idea, Homelander was panicking as you forced your revisions onto him.

“Camping would be nice.” Ryan said.

“I always wanted to see Yellowstone.” Helena giggled at the idea of seeing geysers, and this man failing miserably to build a tent.

“You’re taking this quite well, honey” You said towards your daughter.

“It is what it is…”

A/N: will say what reader-chan said about Becca does not reflect my personal views on Ms. Saunders storyline, but in this story HL never told her about the events of Ryan's conception obviously nor hinted at anything unsavoury involving the matter... for all purposes Reader knows HL kills people willy nilly but isn't a sex offender.

Taglist-- hope you guys had fun reading @demodemo909 @immyowndefender @fromforeigntofamiliarity @666riddler

@ghqstfqce

[aikoiya]

DP HC - Dash After High School

I like the idea that once Dash doesn't get a scholarship & his parents learn about his bullying tendencies, his parents (or at least his mother) send him to boot camp & he ends up with some talent for being a medic.

In my mind, Dash's father is a pillar of true masculine toxicity & very obviously homophobic.

Like, I feel that the terms are overly-used these days & has lost some of its meaning, but I do feel like there are certain traits of men that can be toxic if they don't learn balance, just like how I think there are certain female traits that can be toxic too.

Like, for men, there's aggressive & violent when they need to be & that's just part of being a man, it can even be a good thing in certain situations. Then, there's being overly aggressive & violent when there's no need for it or in a situation where it's not appropriate or where he's being legitimately abusive. Like, literally just because they're angry or wanna hurt someone. (I mean, if a couple guys get into a fistfight, then afterwards they laugh about it & go get a drink together, no harm done, then that's fine. Sometimes, that's just how guys interact.) Then there's overly stubborn & a refusal to be wrong & the need for others to be subservient. Those are the sorts of things that are toxic, but they aren't innately male-centric characteristics & are toxic no matter who acts that way.

Luckily, I haven't met many men around me who exemplifies this sort of thing.

As for homophobia, again, there's a difference between not agreeing with someone's lifestyle, yet still supporting their right to choose how they live... & outright hating homosexuality & treating such individuals as something less than human.

Dash's dad is the latter.

I see Dash's mom & dad being abusive in different ways, the mom being more negligent with the dad being more violent & demanding.

So, when they finally got a divorce, Dash's mom saw some of the makings of the man she married through Dash's bullying & decided that she couldn't handle it.

So, she sent him to boot camp which straightened his ass out quick & in a hurry!

He later chose to apply to the military & even later became a field medic.

He becomes a much better person because of this, his experience with teams helping him a little bit, though basic training was, like, even worse than football training could ever be, & even though he & his mom aren't on good terms, he's thankful that she put him through that even though it was for her own self-interests. Being from a town where ghosts attack at all hours also tends to help with one's reaction time.

Once he retires from the military, he goes back to school & becomes a full-fledged doctor. A surgeon specifically & he does pretty damn well.

Thing is, had his parents not gotten divorce, he would've become what he did in TUE. A fat, washed up loser.

He's also married with kids. He's bi, but he ultimately decided that he wanted a wife & kids of his own blood more than he ever could a man, so he chose to seek out women once he realized that. It's in that moment that he realized that while he was bisexual, he was also heteroromantic & felt no true romantic connection to any of the men he'd dated before.

He'd always found that odd, but now he understood.

Ultimately, he's happy &, at the 10 year reunion, he made sure to apologize to all the guys he bullied back then. Including Fenton.

They're decent friends now. Still razz & bitch at & insult & prank each other, but there's no heat to it anymore & even when they do fight, Danny fights back now &, as mentioned above, they tend to laugh about it before going off to get beers together afterwards.

Just dude shit.

DP Character HC Masterlist

[bluestar22x]

Chapter 1

Baby Fever - Chapter 1

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female!(Wife)Reader

Series Summary: It all started with a classic case of baby fever

Rating: 18+ Series

Warnings: Smut, light breeding kink, cock warming, mentions of cum

Word Count: 3,202

Author's Note: This was one of those chapters where editing the fic the next day made me feel so much better about how it turned out. Hope you all enjoy. And check out the oneshot A Splash Of Red if you haven't yet if you want to get to know reader better beforehand.

Also, I mention hair color of a relative of reader, but that does not confirm a race for reader. She is adopted.

xxx

It was the fourth of July, and just like every Independence Day you could remember your parents had invited all of your family members to Lake Arrowhead in Virginia to celebrate and have a reunion. All of them. Both your mother's side and your father's side, which wasn't atypical for them, but it was the only celebration of the year that had both sides gathering together.

Them all being there, packed into a modestly sized lake house rental, made your family appear huge, and you supposed that they were, compared to most modern American families. In total you had six aunts, four uncles, their spouses, two living sets of grandparents, and at least twenty cousins and second cousins, not to mention your parents, sister, and her little family. This was the only time of year you got to see most of your relatives that lived more than a few hours away from D.C., which was about half of them, and your sister Emily could also be included. She lived in California with her husband and you had only gotten to see her in person a couple times a year since she had moved out there with her husband Greg four years ago.

They'd had a baby seven months ago, and you'd flown out to see little Henry for a weekend the month after he was born, but you hadn't seen them since, not in person at least. You were thankful for Facetime, you hadn't technically missed out on seeing your nephew growing, but it wasn't quite the same through a screen. You'd been anxious to see Henry again at the reunion, so you sought him and Emily out first when you arrived, scanning the crowd for your supermodel tall sister and a tiny baby with ridiculously thick blonde hair.

You found them at the kitchen island, Emily seated at the far end, bouncing Henry gently on her leg while a crowd surrounded them, fawning over the little guy. For most of the family this was the first time they were laying eyes on him, and your family being the stereotypical American type, most of the crowd was composed of women, while the men hung back chatting with each other just outside of the baby bubble.

You strolled over to them with your husband in tow, one of his massive hands clasped in yours firmly, gladly following you. You'd married Marcus Pike on the twenty-sixth of May, just a little over a month ago, and while this wasn't his first time at the family reunion, he wasn't yet at that point where he'd wander off away from you during a family party on his own. It wasn't like he didn't know your uncles and cousins enough, it was just that he was more interested in you, and you wouldn't have dreamed about complaining about that.

You let go of his hand to scoop up your nephew, the only person in your family besides your parents who ever did so without permission. "Come here, little man!" you exclaimed, voice higher pitched than it normally was. "I need kisses!"

You pressed so many kisses to his chubby cheeks they were shining when you pulled away and you felt your heart soar when you saw him beaming back up at you in reaction to your uncurbed affection.

"Perfect timing," Emily declared as she stood up. "I gotta go pee and pump. Do you mind watching him for a bit?"

"Just cause I'm the older sister doesn't mean you get to make me the designated babysitter on sight," you joked.

"So, you don't want to?" Emily questioned, teased, gesturing to your aunts and female cousins who were still huddled around you both. "Cause I'm sure anyone else here would gladly."

"I'll take him!" your cousin Jeannie nearly shouted, making grabby hands at Henry.

You pulled him closer to your chest as if to shield him from her. "No way! Auntie rights."

Jeannie pouted but let you and your sister slip away into the more open living room.

Emily reached over the top of the couch for the baby bag she brought everywhere with her since Henry was born and passed it to you. "He might need a change while I'm gone," she warned.

You waved a hand at that. "I babysat in high school for the neighbors, remember? I'm not scared of a little Henry poo if it comes to that."

She chuckled. "Okay. I'll go. Talk after."

She gave you an awkward there's-a-baby-between-us hug then disappeared down the hallway as you sat down on the couch and dropped the bag at your feet.

You rested Henry on your right leg and twisted your face into a silly expression to make him giggle and the sound warmed you instantly. When you were a teenager, interacting with a baby had been a job. You'd been good at it, good enough to keep your neighbor's baby alive at least, but you hadn't really loved it. You hadn't been overly crazy over your cousins' babies either, but there was something about Henry that had changed that. You couldn't deny that everything he did had you captivated, even before he was born and your sister had insisted you feel him moving in her belly. Ever since then you'd been a little obsessed.

You felt eyes on you as you blew raspberries into his bare stomach, increasing the intensity of his laughter, but you ignored them, focusing on your nephew until you felt the couch cushion beside you sink down under the weight of another adult body.

"He's gotten big," Marcus observed, smiling brightly as he watched your endearing interactions with your nephew - who was also his nephew now you reminded yourself.

"Video chat didn't do justice," you agreed, jerking your head away from Henry to study his face again. You sighed heavily. "Next time I see him he'll probably be walking." You were disappointed by that realization. Kids grew up too fast for long distance.

Marcus chuckled at the pout that formed on your face. "Well, maybe by then another baby will be on the way in the family."

You glanced at him and caught the meaning behind his words in his soft chocolate eyes. "Marcus..."

"I know we both agreed we'd wait until after our first anniversary," he said, holding out an index finger for Henry to curl his little fingers around, "But you're a year into your greeter job at the hotel and my paperwork for the desk job at the FBI should go through next week, so why wait?"

You chewed your lower lip as you glanced back at the smiley baby you were bouncing on your knee, the same way your sister had. Why wait indeed. You both were in secure jobs and soon Marcus wouldn't be out in the field anymore, possibly hundreds of miles away if a case required it. He'd asked for a job in the FBI building in D.C. that would keep him safer and closer to home after you'd married. He'd insisted on it, even though the one that had been offered to him was a position with slightly less pay. You knew it had been because he wanted to be there for you and any kids in your future even though he hadn't spelled that out. You'd talked about having a kid or two after marriage fairly early on during the time you'd dated. It had simply been a smart move, neither one of you wanting to continue dating if the other hadn't wanted any. It was never too early to talk about deal breaker subjects in your book, though you'd waited until your fifth date to bring it up in case he didn't feel the same. He'd actually been relieved that you had brought it up since he had a history of rushing relationships and was unsure if it was still too early to bring up the topic.

If you had still been new at the hotel you'd have been concerned about needing maternity leave so soon after joining the business, but a full year had secured your place there, and you already had vacation time racked up on top of that.

Why not?

You couldn't think of anything to discourage you from starting to try for a baby. It wouldn't even be a process. You'd gotten your birth control implant removed right after you and Marcus had gotten married, choosing to use only physical barriers for prevention so you wouldn't have to wait to see a doctor before starting to try, knowing your doctor scheduled appointments months ahead of time.

A part of you might have also had foresight that you and Marcus wouldn't make it a full year waiting. Marcus had barely made it over a month. You couldn't blame him, staring at your nephew. You couldn't deny you yourself had a full-blown case of baby fever ever since he’d made his debut.

You watched as Henry tightened his grip on Marcus' finger and leaned forward to suck on its middle joint. You felt a smile tug at the corners of your mouth as Marcus ruffled his soft hair with his free hand. You knew he’d be a good dad. That had never been a concern for you, and his interactions with Henry had always been endearing. You didn’t think you’d ever met another man who deserved to be a father more than him and you wanted to be the one to make him one.

"Okay," you said almost breathlessly.

You'd known most of your adult life, over a decade, that you wanted children in the future, the dream having stuck up on you sometime during your short stint in college, but it had stayed a thought at the back of your mind for so long a part of you had wondered if you'd ever get around to it. Even after meeting and marrying Marcus it had still felt far away. But deciding to stop waiting, agreeing to it, the possibly was suddenly very real to you.

"Just okay?" He raised his brows. He seemed unsure of your reaction, like he'd expected more from you.

"More than okay," you corrected yourself as excitement started to bubble up in you. You flashed him a grin. "I'd like to start trying too."

Marcus beamed back at you and pitched forward to give you a gleeful kiss, resting his left hand against your cheek, thumb glazing over the apple of it. "I can't wait," he told you as he pulled away, and you wondered if he was more anxious about having a baby or making a baby. Cause for you it was about equal after seeing his little interactions with Henry and how he'd just kissed you.

"Tonight?" you murmured.

"Is the timing right?" he asked, hopeful.

"Whether it is or not, does it matter?" you inquired thickly. "We can still try."

The corner of his lips quirked upward at the seductive tone you were using. "True. And yes, I'd love to."

"Pencil it in Agent Pike."

He shook his head. "I never need a reminder for you."

x

You were distracted the rest of the day, anticipation building with every conversation you had with distant family that bored you, every hour that passed, and with the fading light.

Marcus did eventually step away from you to talk with your father about "guy stuff". Whatever that meant. They had been your father's words when he pulled him away from you.

You and Marcus spent the entire time apart stealing glances at each other while half paying attention to the conversations you were supposed to be engaged in.

Though you had been together for nearly eighteen months in total, your plan for the night upon your return home was very distracting. It could be claimed it was because you and Marcus were still early into your marriage, the whole newlywed thing, but the honest truth was that the idea of having unprotected sex with the intention of getting pregnant was a turn on for you, and it seemed, based on his intense gaze whenever your eyes met, that Marcus shared your sentiment.

That's why you weren't caught off guard when, just before midnight, he gathered you up in his arms immediately after stepping through the front door to the quaint little house you'd inherited from one of your late great grandmothers.

His broad hands were already under your blouse before you could register the movement, skating over the slopes of your shoulder blades and down the curve of your spine before slipping back up to repeat the action.

Your hands found his expansive shoulders as you pressed your lips to his and walked backwards, guiding him away from the door, just as anxious as him for what would come next. He swiftly kicked the door shut behind him (an action that you found pretty hot) and followed you through the moonlit kitchen and down the dark hallway, to the master bedroom.

You didn't stop until you blindly hit the side of the bed, climbing onto it as soon as you felt the bedspread behind your bare knees. Marcus didn't let your lips separate more than a whisper apart during the whole motion, kneeling over you as you sunk down on top of the bedspread.

You reached for his belt as he deepened the kiss between you, exploring your mouth thoroughly, and you hummed happily as you fumbled with the buckle. The sound of it clinking open and you ripping the piece of leather out of the loops of his jeans in one smooth move had him grinning against your mouth. "Anxious, sweetie?"

Like he wasn’t.

"Want you so bad, Marcus." You murmured the confirmation into his ear, knowing what it would do to him, and reached for the button of his pants, popping it open. He groaned as you slipped a hand into his boxer briefs, cupping his already half hard length and stroking him a bit.

He caught your hand to still it after several seconds, breath hitching. "Keep doing that I won't make it inside you, and that would defeat the point," he rasped.  

You nodded and pulled your hand away, allowing him to lift your shirt up and off your body during the motion. The rest of your clothes, yours and his, were quickly discarded thereafter, socks the last to join the other scattered clothing on the floor.

Marcus traced the curves of your body as he hungrily kissed his way down it simultaneously, licking at sensitive spots to elicit moans from you as he traveled along, until his thick fingers were sliding through your folds and circling your clit.

You threw your head against the pillow behind you, grasped at the bed beneath you, and arched your back as his fingers expertly built up the heat and pressure inside you, slowly but surely, until your body was seizing with a pleasure that had you gasping loudly. As you panted afterwards, you opened your eyes to Marcus hovering over you, lips inches from yours, eyes dark and burning right through yours.

"So hot," he told you at a whisper. "You're so beautiful when you come."

They were words of praise you were far from unfamiliar with, but ones that always made your gut twist with desire, and he knew it.

He dipped his head to kiss you along your jaw, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting your eyes droop as you focused on the sensation of his teeth nipping at your skin.

"Marcus," you said under your breath, impatiently, "Please. Take me. I wanna have your baby. Been thinking about it all night."

His eyes grew darker than you'd ever seen them before, and he snapped them shut briefly, releasing a guttural groan as he pressed his body closer to yours and you splayed open to him. He slid himself inside you in one smooth move when your eyes met again, burying himself to the hilt, and you dipped your head to bite his shoulder at the intensity of him filling you up. It felt so good, and so easy, with how wet you were from your earlier release.

You wound your legs around his waist as he began rocking into you and you reclaimed his lips needily as you tilted your hips in time with his. One of his hands found your face while the other molded onto your hip, guiding it to press harder into his every time he plunged into you, wanting you impossibly close. You clung to him tightly, fingers embedded in the hair at the base of his neck, eyes barely open. You could feel the tension inside you mounting every time he dragged along inside you, and it was quickly becoming overwhelming, especially since you'd already climaxed minutes before.

The sounds Marcus was making, his soft grunts and moans, were not helping. He sounded utterly lost in you, in the pleasure he was taking from being inside you, and it made heat pool in your belly, set fire in your veins.

It wasn’t long before you were moaning loudly, absolutely shattering beneath him, and when he felt you clench down around him he shuddered and spilled his seed into you with a strained groan.

He collapsed onto you after, as he tenderly covered your mouth with his, the kiss almost lazy. Afterwards he rested his forehead against yours, making no attempt to pull out of you as he caught his breath.

You could feel his heart pounding in his chest with how he'd molded himself against you. It was racing at a similar rate as your own.

You relaxed, letting your legs slide off his back, and you nuzzled your nose against his cheek, inhaling his sweaty scent as your breathing began to steady.

"You going to stay in me all night, baby?" you asked him eventually, smiling. This was new. He usually pulled out moments after making love to you. Not that you were going to complain. It was just an observation.

"Whatever it takes," he replied, laving at your neck attentively. You understood immediately what he meant. Whatever it takes to get you pregnant. Your stomach flipped. If you'd know trying for a baby with your husband would be so hot, you'd have jumped at it sooner. Damn.

You winked at him playfully. "I think you've done your part well," you declared. "But no complaints from me if you want to be extra sure nothing leaks out."

You bumped his ass with the back of one of your heels suddenly, sending him jolting deeper into you, and you both beamed at each other after, your smile much more wicked than his.

He didn't actually stay in you all night, but you did spend a lengthy time after still linked as you kissed each other everywhere you could reach, thoroughly enjoying your closeness until sleep beckoned.

And when it did, he separated from you only to tug you against his chest and bury his face against the back of your head, an arm draped over you almost possessively.

You smiled softly into the darkness and reveled in the warmth of him against your back until you drifted off.

xxx

Tagged: harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[fumikosushi]

Mentions of parental death under cut.

I haven't really talked to that many people about all the things that have gone on surrounding my mom's death. I talked to maybe two people, but not a whole lot. I have a hard time talking to people directly about the things I'm going through (trauma has led me to having difficulty confiding those things in others, but I'm trying to do better). For now, the easiest way for me to do that is just by making a post where I throw things into the void.

Even before my mom passed away, my family was being absolutely horrible. My sister, my mom's sister, her brother, and the man she was staying with were just fucking awful. I would also like to point out that none of these people had anything to do with her until she was dying. My sister visited not once while we lived here for 10+ years until she heard my mom was dying. My brother visited some and with his it's different because his schedule doesn't allow it, but my sister flat out refused to speak to my mom unless she could con my mom into giving her drug money (for crack and heroin). My sister drained my mom's bank account this way, mind you. Took advantage of my mom's desire to help her to try and be a good mom and my sister lied to her for drug money.

When they were here the few days before she passed people treated both her and myself terribly. With me, it was nothing new. My family has already been pretty fucking awful. My only real problem with my brother is his refusal to acknowledge anything that happened being fucked up, but I still might end up opting into going no contact with him too like I have my father and sister.

The entire time I was there, even though I was literally silent and minding my own business, I was just.. bullied the whole fucking time. My sister and my mom's sister would whisper to each other while looking at me and laugh or they would try and say things to provoke or gaslight me into a reaction (I never gave them the reaction they wanted). My mom's brother spent the whole time drunk and fighting with people. Again, I constantly have comments made about me despite the fact I literally never spoke unless spoken to. Even then, I didn't say much.

There was a point where my mom wasn't really responsive. You know, she wasn't really.. there. Like she was alive, but she was literally skin and bones with next to no meat or fat left on her body. She couldn't speak. You could hear her struggling for air. What does my sister do? She calls my dad who horribly abused her for years and lets him just say what he wants in her ear while she's unable to respond and literally fucking dying. Like.. who makes someone listen to someone who help ruined their life as they're dying? That's just.. sick. I genuinely feel as though my mother died feeling completely unloved. I won't lie. I honestly can't believe that she didn't and it fucking sucks because it haunts me. Like, how is she supposed to feel loved when she's suffering so much and everyone around her is just continuing to abuse her? These people couldn't even respect her after she died either.

We still haven't had a service for her. Her brother is in charge and that always means whatever he's in charge of? It's never happening. He's always too busy getting plastered and telling everyone how shit and terrible they are like he's even the slightest bit delightful to deal with himself. Not to mention.. my mom's abuser has her ashes (the guy she was staying with) and he refuses to let me have any of her ashes. I feel like if anyone deserves to have them, it's me - I'm the only one who has ever been here for her. But no, of course, I'm being fucked over and not included in anything. If they have a service, I'm sure I'm not even going to be invited. I am so tired of being hated by these people just for existing as a disabled person (this is literally why they hate me - they're all ableist af and don't believe disabilities exist).

So I go to my boyfriend's to try and deal with all of this and my mom's abuser is whining at me to hurry up and send photos of my mom I took from her house like he has ever given me what he owes me. My mom's ashes. I told the guy I'd do it when I got back to keep the peace, but God, I already know it doesn't matter how civil I am despite hating these people. I will still be excluded. So I've decided to give them diddly fucking squat. I lost a fuck ton of things to do with my mom because I couldn't afford a truck for her things. No one could find it in their heart to just help me move anything (my place is literally 10 minutes away from hers) and we would have paid them back too! But no. No help. So I lost 90% of my mother's belongings because they're all in the fucking dump now because the landlady threw everything away before I could get a truck.

And like.. the day my mom died my siblings were just like "aye we're leaving" not hours later and I'm just like ??? That's so.. crazy. Our mom just died and you're just.. gonna go back to South Carolina?? Like yall aren't gonna make sure I'm okay or nothing? Just "oh yeah, here's the tv mom left" and then you fuck off? These people baffle me.

I'm home now and tbh I'm still not okay at all and God, I don't want anyone to tell me shit like 'it gets better' or whatever because I'm so tired of hearing it. As I said, I just needed to throw my feelings into the void. I'm not wanting some pity party or whatever. This isn't even everything going on right now, but this is the stuff to do with my mom.

[loopy777]

thoughts on the way MHA ended? Lots of people absolutely pissed that izuku x uraraka was sunk rather decisively(im as well, but thats more because i now know sitting through 428 chapters of their boring ass romance was an objective waste of time) just so Kohei didnt have to deal with an ending that actually had ships sail, and the fandom reaction to that.

For me, i am absolutely gonna use Uraraka's canon wishywashyness to the bitter end, not having the guts to confess for 8 years after the final battle, to shit on her mercilessly in my own stories XD

Wow, harsh. Deku could have asked her to dinner some time in 8 years! What's a girl to think when a guy doesn't go on a single date from age 14 to 22? XD

Anyway, shipping aside, I am quite pleased with the ending. I thought we got good resolutions for more characters than I expected, and I really like not just that last-second twist but how it's done. All Might's eyes are freaky-looking, though.

Since I'm not really a MHA shipper, I thought it odd that we don't get a single romantic confirmation, but I think it's left open enough that there could be romance going on with whatever pairing a reader wants. Perhaps that was a deliberate, cynical choice. I do think there's a lack of payoff in the romances, as we have Deku, Uraraka, Kaminari, maybe Kirishima, and Yaoyorozu all having crushes that provide inspiration at critical character-growth moments, but none of them take the next step. It feels like all those subplots just stop before any climax. We don't even have Kaminari asking Jiro on a date and getting shot down. It feels like there's something missing in terms of the shape of the story.

However, I recognize that Romance is always awkward with these epic coming-of-age tales, especially one in a 'modern' setting like MHA. For something like AtLA, in an 'old' fantasy setting where older teenagers are considered full adults, especially one without formal schooling, I can buy someone marrying a love interest they meet at age 14. For something like MHA, though, it feels more unrealistic since most of us do not know someone who married their first high school sweetheart.

So, normally, I wouldn't dock MHA many points for these no-payoff romances. It could have done a lot worse by attempting the payoffs and fumbling them.

Unfortunately, in the wider context of the MHA, I think this is a fatal flaw that makes me unable to recommend the series to anyone.

No exaggeration. Explanation below the cut.

So, how many actual romantic relationships are there in this story, including the adults? Not that many, if we go by what's on screen. I mean, we had to get out-of-story clarification that Deku's father is still married to his mother. And of the relationships we actually see, how many of them are alive and functional and not something awful like Todoroki's backstory?

Bakugo's parents

Gentle Criminal and La Brava

???

That's all I can think of.

And then I've noted that none of the student crushes get any payoff. We're very clearly shown that these kids have attractions to each other, but at best it becomes a kind of unspoken courtly love. What's up with that?

Well, you could argue that MHA's intended audience is 12-year-old boys who don't want to see kissy romances. And normally, I'd consider that an acceptable answer. It's all over shonen anime/manga: feints towards romance (because boys like the idea of attracting pretty girls) without any actual depiction or fulfillment that could turn off squeamish immature boys. Some of this may be influenced by Japanese society overall, as my understanding is that displays of physical affections overall are rarer there, but I don't think that's the primary factor. Certainly, there are shonen stories where a boy and girl have an actual ongoing romantic relationship, and sometimes there's even kissing.

MHA doesn't have that, though. It has broken relationships, comedic relationships, and unfulfilled crushes. Even among adults.

What else does it have?

Fan-service outfits. Sexual assault played for laughs. Several instances of leering teenage female nudity.

Yeah, I've talked before about how Mineta is the worst part of the show because of how much fun the story tries to make them, and you don't have to go far on the internet to find people who think MHA's depiction of female teenagers is pretty gross, but pair this with the overall story's notable lack of any actual serious romance. That is not a great look. It says the only interest MHA has in romance is for the sex.

Now, I don't know that this reflects Horikoshi's actual feelings or psychology. Maybe this is an unfortunate mix of a juvenile sense of humor with a cynical ploy to avoid ticking off any shippers. But, thanks to the Death Of The Author, the overall message of MHA is that romantic love is equally powerful but less fulfilling than molesting your female classmates. Remember, Kaminari may have found his motivation to help take down some villains thanks to his love for Jiro, but Mineta found the strength and strategy to ace his practical exam thanks to his horny obsession with Midnight.

So the end result is that MHA is decidedly icky about this, and while it's a great superhero story and shonen, IMO, I couldn't recommend it to anyone without a major warning about this aspect of it.

[redux-iterum]

Can you expand a little further on the whole “one litter per pair”? (I could’ve SWORN you had a post up but I cannot find it now) How would that work with cheaters/those who have affairs? What would happen if a cat got pregnant who already had a litter prior?

(I sent this to another rewriter so if you also don’t include this in your work, I am SO sorry 💀 I’m just trying to track it down-)

I've discussed it various times here and there, but here's a basic breakdown:

Queens are not forced by the law but certainly heavily encouraged by culture to only have one litter of kittens in her lifetime, while toms are equally pressured to only father that one litter. The exception is if their children die before or come into positions or circumstances where they cannot continue the family line, in which case the parents can try again for a new litter. Basically, if your kids still have the chance to have kids of their own, you are not to have any more children, but if your kids are dead or otherwise not able to give you grandchildren, you have carte blanche to bear another litter.

The reason for this is because the Clans are at a constant risk of one family taking over the bloodlines of their community (see: Lionblaze and Cinderheart having so many kids that now pretty much everyone in ThunderClan is related to them), leading to incest and genetic muddiness. To prevent inbreeding as much as possible, queens are limited to one litter to reduce how much of a genetic footprint they leave. Matriarchs are tasked with keeping track of the family trees for this exact reason, often being the ones to suggest pairings of cats to keep things clean. For this purpose, a lot of fathers and mothers aren't even together romantically - the father just mated with the mother for the purpose of giving her kits, and he doesn't need to have any further role outside of that. To even further push this, larger litters that all make it to warriorhood are encouraged for only one of the siblings, maybe two, to have kits. Many litters of three or more are more comprised of aunt and uncles than moms and dads.

Having a second litter when you didn't need to can lead to a negative reaction for this reason. To the Clans, you're fucking up a very delicate balancing act for no good reason (bearing in mind that the Clans are pretty asexual as far as cats go, so there's not a whole lot of horniness involved in stuff like this). Cats who cheat and have kits with another Clanmate are going to get a TON of shit from their friends and family, no matter their gender. A molly with two fathers for her two litters just disposed of two lines for the entire Clan, and a tom with two mollies spread his genes way too far across his community. Either way, they're (in the eyes of the Clans) ruining the clean-blood-pool, and they're idiots for it. Plus, think of the poor matriarch who has to do a bunch more calculations and mental organizing for the future! You're making her job so much harder because you can't control yourself? Shame on you.

Further information can be found at these links:

Toms' relationships with family lines.

Fathers of an outsider's litter.

A basic rundown of what I've said here.

Multiple fathers to a litter.

Cheaters.

The "Talk".

[biribaa]

Okay, here's a request that I was think about for a good time... What would be Olivia/O7(can you do separate? If not, that's okay) reaction when she found out Reader has a child? Like, I just want to now if she would treat them like her own child or just go to buy milk.

Olivia/O7 reacting to a Reader who has a child

TW/CW: Torture mentions, Mentions of past decapitation, mentions of alcohol.

Olivia

Olivia is very... Hesitant at the thought of taking care of a child. Olivia hates humans, even though she is one. Olivia even wanted to be a mother one day, but seeing how she has no patience with humans, she fears that she will make her child unhappy as her mother made her. Olivia would rather not have a child if it means making they unhappy.

And then theres you, who insisted on approaching Olivia, you both fall in love and blah blah blah BUT THEN YOU HAVE A CHILD. Olivia was shocked! How did she never know about this?! A heaviness appeared in her chest and all those teenage crises about becoming a mother came back. Olivia can't just break up with you for having a kid, she'd be an asshole! And it's clear that Olivia wants to try to be a good mother if it means she can prove that she loves you. So even with her insecurities about motherhood, Olivia will try to love this child for you. So you'll have to teach Olivia have confidence (and patience) of caring for a child.

Olivia is an easy learner in specific topics, and she gets the hang of it, even if she isn't quite that confident yet. One of her biggest concerns is whether the child will like her, or maybe Olivia watches too many movies where the son doesn't like the single father having a relationship with a new woman.

Olivia now tries to drink less, for your sake and for the child. She only drinks when the child and, sometimes when you sleep now.

But... will a happy family really save Olivia from her hatred? Her lifelong doubted hatred for humans? Of course not, Olivia thinks this is stupid. But at the same time, Olivia would hate to abandon the only human she could find compassion for, and that included her child. So, Olivia starts making a plan to convince you to go to her work on the day she's going to put her plans into action.

BUT THEN YOU BRING YOUR CHILD.

O7

Even though she no longer has lungs, O7 may feel out of breath when she reacts that you brought your child without knowing about the upcoming incidents. Y'all are definitely going to have a parents argument out of an Adam Sandler movie because of that.

The two of you then come to a conclusion that O7 will take a break from her tortures towards the workers of the company to give daily attention to her child. So O7 starts to plan tortures that can work without needing her presence.

It will take a while for the child to identify that O7 = Olivia, and it is quite understandable for O7. Olivia has a woman's body, she is skinny with human skin and a voice of a grown woman, but O7 have a male body, with a male voice sounding like it's coming from a microphone, with metallic skin and screen head, and even with masculine characteristics, she is still considered a woman. It will be Very confusing for the child.

O7 and your child are constantly playing hide and seek, she counting to 50 seconds and the child hiding, just for O7 act like a fool looking for the child, and when she finds they, O7 ties strings to the child's foot and leaves them in the air(Probably bragging that she won and the kid didn't)

O7 will make the greatest effort for your child not to find out about the tortures that she practices. So if the child hears some kind of scream, O7 will lie saying they are watching a horror movie.

And Thatche4 and Trojan will be some kind of uncles with opposite traits(some sorta of Stan Pines and Stanford Pines thing). Thatche4 always managing to entertain the child while Trojan prefers to take the child out of Thatche4's hands knowing what this AI is capable of.

O7 has already thought about reading her favorite books to the child, but she thinks Space Odyssey would be too complicated for a child, and I Have No Mouth and I Must... Well, it's I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream, no explanation is needed

I have this fun scenario where Tester faces O7, but she has the child sleeping on her lap.

"Don't bother with that little thing, Tester. Just don't make any noise and I'll think about not cutting your stomach."

O7 knows exactly what will happen if the child interacts with humans, they will try to convince him that O7 is evil, and try to manipulate the child's point of view of their own mother.

"Your mother is a monster, don't listen to her, she destroyed everyone's lives here." Antony grunted, as always.

"Be careful with your mother, little one, nobody knows if she'll lock you in the dark like she did to me, haha" Julia joked.

Tester didn't even try, they know a kid won't know sign language.

"Do you really ask that? You were born by it, no doubt you must be sick like it." Cyrus cursed.

"I haven't had many interactions with your mother, but your Uncle Tatche4 is why I only have 8 fingers." Daniel commented.

Of course, if O7 finds out that a human other than you is trying to give her child some sort of influence, heads will roll.

[muuum-am-i-adohhhpted]

The Path to Godhood (Empires SMP)

Summary: Joel is just an average, mortal, boy living with his single mother in what will become the Ancient Capital. The Rapture hasn't occured yet, but Joel is given a surprise when his father visits him, telling him a humanity-wiping event will happen in twenty years. He gives Joel an offer that includes safety from it.

Or, how Joel became a god that doesn't include the Fountain of Strength.

AO3 Link

Word Count: 4511

Warnings: Death, death of a parent, bad parenting, lies, temporary amnesia, references to bullying, fire and smoke inhalation.

~~~

Even from a young age, Joel had been obsessed with the gods. He'd search out shrines of smaller deities in the outskirts of the capital, committing their names to memory. He'd sit with the older folk in town and listen to stories of adventure, morality, and jealousy. The gods were messy, and human-like, and they made mistakes just like everybody else. But they were just that: gods. And Joel was a mere human, tethered to the earth like a bird with clipped wings.

Keeping to himself and only interacting with elders put a target on his back. The kids his own age taunted him for his height and scrawniness, throwing dodo poop at his clothes and tripping him wherever he walked.

His mother said that children preyed on the weak, and that Joel was an old-soul. "Keep true to yourself, and they'll eventually tire of you. They're looking for reactions, and the best thing you can do without making the bullying worse is to pretend they don't affect you."

The thing was, it did affect him. A lot. His mother was on the shorter side, and Joel was too. They had a lot in common, in fact. The same untamable brown hair, and chestnut eyes. The only trait Joel apparently got from his out-of-the-picture father was his rather bulbous nose. Joel liked to keep it that way; he much preferred to look like his mother who Joel considered his one and only parent.

A lot of stigma came with being an only parent, and Joel was ready to fight anybody who even blinked at his mother the wrong way. But none came. The children had plenty of opportunities to say something rude about his mother but didn't, and no whispers came from the adults.

Joel didn't truly understand it. Until one night, sitting under a froglight tree in the orchard, a man appeared in front of him. He was wearing a pure-white chiton, blond hair and blue eyes. His entire being was ringed with gold, indicating his godhood. The thing that stood out the most to Joel was the man's nose. Large and bulbous—exactly like Joel's own.

"I must be dreaming," Joel muttered, and he quickly stood up. Because gods didn't just come down to the mortal realm. And if they did, they definitely made sure to be hidden, and they definitely didn't have children with mortal women.

"I'm afraid you’re not. Joel, I am your father."

The world seemed to fall away from under Joel, and he instantly sat back down. "What?"  This revelation felt like one of those hackneyed melodramas some of the older kids wrote and acted out in town square. All he needed now was an amnesia plotline, and he'd be set. "Why are you telling me this now?"

Joel could now place which god this was—the god of the sky. It was his job to paint the heavens blue every morning, and black in the night. Only when he was sad or upset did the sky end up a melancholy grey.

The god of the sky looked down pityingly at Joel. "The Fates have read of a terrible future, and it's quite imminent. It won't happen in this area, but it will affect the entire world causing earthquakes and rising waters. Nearly every mortal will die."

A shiver went through Joel. "How soon does everyone have?"

"Twenty years, at the most," the god replied. His lips were pursed and he seemed to not know where to look—at Joel or somewhere else.

Twenty years felt like a long time away, but Joel supposed if he was immortal, that period wouldn't seem nearly as long. "So. Everyone's going to die. Are you planning for me to be the messenger to tell everybody? Maybe we can build something? A safe house?" His mind was already running with ideas on how to do such a thing. Obsidian, perhaps?

The god shook his head. "No, the mortals will descend into chaos if they were to know. No Joel, I'm asking you if you would like to be granted the gift of immortality and live with me and the other gods. It will be safe up there."

“Immortality?” Joel repeated. “With you?” He could hardly wrap his head around the idea. The prospect of living forever, alongside the gods no less, sounded incredible. He’d be safe from whatever terrible event would occur in two decades.

“Is my mother allowed to come too?” Joel thought of his mother who cared for him, loved him, and also held a demanding job at the copper aging facility below the capital.

The god’s face turned pained, “unfortunately, that’s not possible. You’re half-god, and already have some claim to it. Giving mortals immortality is incredibly difficult; the other gods all have to agree and I haven’t exactly made friends with all of them.”

Joel’s mind was then made up. “I can’t leave her behind. I’m the only person left for her here; she’d be all alone for the end of the world and I can’t do that to her.”

For a long time, the god stared at Joel with an inscrutable expression. Then, he patted Joel on the shoulder. “Very well,” he finally said. “You’re a good son, Joel. I’m proud to have you as my son. Farewell.” And, in the blink of an eye, he disappeared.

Joel stayed sitting under the froglight tree until the sun came up once again. He pictured his father running along the sky, giving it a beautiful pink and orange hue.

Joel never told his mother about the meeting.

~~~

As Joel grew older, he struggled with whether or not he should tell the city that humanity was going to die. But his father had been right; if people were to know, everything would fall into chaos. Crime would run rampant, and panic would ensue. Besides, if the Fates said that almost everyone would die, there was nothing to be done. The world might as well live in ignorance.

And so life went on.

He was nearing adulthood and, while he had sprouted up significantly, he was still in the middle of the pack. Nevertheless, the bullying backed off. He wasn't sure whether it was because of his new height or because they all grew up. Either way, Joel was glad.

In the meantime, his mom was getting older. Spending so much time underground had faded her usual liveliness. Her wrinkles seemed deeper, her eyes foggier. Grey streaked through her dark hair. Joel was scared.

He took up a part-time job at the froglight orchard, eventually working there full time after finishing his schooling. In the blazing sun, constantly plucking froglights from the trees, gathering them in a basket, and carrying them inside to be washed, Joel slowly felt himself become stronger. When he had first started at the orchard, he could only carry seven or so froglights per basket, but now he found he could lift nearly twenty.

Joel was proud of the accomplishment; he liked the way he looked in a mirror. The bulk fit him in a way the scrawniness hadn't. Unfortunately, his new appearance did remind himself of his father who he hadn't seen since that night under the froglight tree.

When his mother took a nasty fall in the copper aging facility, Joel was finally able to persuade his mother to retire. At this point, Joel was making enough money for the two of them to live comfortably along with the money he had already saved.

On her deathbed, early in the morning, Joel's mother pulled him into a loose hug, her hair tickling Joel's neck. Her hair was nearly all grey now, her hands shaking and frail. "Son, I need to tell you something. It's about your father."

Joel's face pinched. "Shhh," he told her. "It's okay; it doesn't matter. He isn't here now, and he's never been here to care for this family." A part of him wished his father was here, so he could see what he could have prevented by allowing the both of them immortality. Joel was positive his father could have gotten the other gods' permission, but he hadn't even fought for it. Hadn't even tried.

"But—" his mother argued. 

Joel shook his head, and he could feel tears threatening to spill. "I love you."

Joel's mother gripped him tighter, pulling him closer into the hug. "I love you too, and I hope you know that physicality doesn't always denote strength."

"I know, I know." And this time, Joel couldn't hold the tears in. He felt them run down his cheeks like a waterfall and Joel could feel the exact moment his mother's heart slowed to a stop. "You are proof of that."

~~~

After the traditional funeral rites had been executed, Joel left.

He couldn't stay in the capital any longer. People looked at him with pity; they brought dishes upon dishes of food, saying that his mother was in a better place now. Joel seethed inside, knowing that this could have all been avoided.

It was the closest he had come to yelling that the world was going to end.

He travelled the world with only his thoughts as company. The places he visited were a comfort. They didn't know his mother was gone. They didn't know he hadn't always looked like this. They didn't know they would all die in just five more years. He hated seeing civilians pregnant with children, knowing that all was for nothing.

Everytime the cloud of grief began to be too much, Joel skipped town to the next one. And then the next one. He experienced new smells and sights, and met all kinds of people of different walks of life.

Too quickly, the five years were up, and Joel found himself in a snowy taiga village. That morning, the sky turned a terrifying red, and Joel wondered whether or not this was warning from his father that the end of the world was upon them all.

Groans rattled through the earth, shattering windows and scaring away livestock. Soon, the earthquakes arrived, and fire spread like the entire world was dry and parched. It didn't matter that snow decorated the ground, fire jumped from rooftop to rooftop.

Villagers rushed around, eyes wide, calling for their children.

Joel couldn't help but think that this village was lucky. The walls of most of the houses were made of cobblestone instead of wood. The walls wouldn't collapse on anybody. However, that didn't mean the roofs wouldn't.

"Pixlriffs!" A mother was screeching, nearly hysterical. Her cheeks were streaked with tears. "Pixlriffs! Where are you?" 

Another villager was physically restraining her from running back into the fiery debris that had been their village. "You can't go back in there—it's a death wish. All we can hope is that your boy has already made it out."

Joel stepped forward. "I'll go in," he told the woman. "I'll glance into the houses to see if I can see him."

The other villager violently shook his head. "The boy is either dead or safe with the other children. You shouldn't—"

But Joel was already gone. He couldn't stand and watch as another son was ripped away from his mother. If the boy was still inside the village, as his mother thought, Joel was going to reunite the two of them if it was the last thing he did.

The smoke coming from the wooden roofs and light posts immediately engulfed him, but Joel continued on. "Pixlriffs!" He called out, before doubling over and letting out a cough. Still, he went deeper into the village, holding a scarf up to his mouth and nose.

His ears instantly perked up when he heard the screaming of a young boy, the voice coming from inside the house to his right. "Help; anyone! Please! I'm stuck!"

Joel bounded inside, taking in the scene in front of him. A beam from the roof had fallen, sandwiching Pixlriffs' leg between it and the floor. He looked to be seven or so, with a blue cloak and brown hair filled with ash.

Joel was instantly at his side, and he heaved the beam up an inch—enough for Pixlriffs to wriggle out from under the beam. The boy's breathing was laboured, and Joel wasn't sure if Pixlriffs had broken a leg or not, so hoisted him up on his back. "We're getting you out of here," Joel said, determination laced in his voice.

He stepped out of the house, using one hand to keep the scarf over his face and the other to keep Pixlriffs on his back. "Pull your shirt up over your mouth," Joel instructed. "It'll help keep the smoke out."

Joel felt shifting on his back as Pixlriffs did as he was told. "I'm scared," he said quietly, and Joel nearly didn't hear him over the crackling fire surrounding them.

"It's okay," Joel told him. "It's going to be okay. You'll reunite with your mother, and everything will be okay." He wasn't sure if he was just telling Pixlfirffs this or also himself. To get Pixlriffs' mind off of their current situation, Joel began talking. "My name is Joel. Did you know that I'm a god? In my true form, I can wrestle the ender dragon and I tower over everyone I meet. I only look like a regular man now because, if I were to show mortals what I actually look like, everyone would be scared of me." It was more than an exaggeration, but Joel hoped it was capturing Pixlriffs' imagination.

"The capital where I live worship dozens of gods, but I'm one of the most important." They were nearing the outskirts of town, and Joel could just barely see the outline of trees, currently not on fire. They wouldn't be that way for long, but Joel focussed on them nonetheless. He needed something to walk towards. He could feel it getting harder to breathe, and his nose burned from the irritation the smoke caused. Still, Joel continued talking. "The capital has this massive catacomb with a huge statue of our main goddess. People ride along the streets on dodos instead of horses or donkeys. I'll take you there one day."

Finally, they were out of the village, and Joel could see Pixlriffs' mother run towards them, eyes shining with relief.

Joel tried to take in a breath of fresh air, but ended up in a coughing fit, Pixlriffs sliding off his back in the process. Each cough seemed to come out harder than the last and, eventually, Joel collapsed into a heap on the ground, his heart stuttering and slowing down, almost at a deathly pace.

~~~

When Joel opened his eyes, he was in an unfamiliar room lying in an unfamiliar bed. A man sat at his bedside, looking nearly the same age as him. With blond hair and blue eyes, he looked almost familiar but Joel couldn't place him. "Where…where am I?" He asked. "Who are you?" With striking realization, he immediately sat up. "Who am I?"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," the other man said. "You've just been turned into a god; it might take a while to get used to it."

Something in Joel's stomach dropped, and the slightest wisp of this isn't what I wanted passed through him before dissolving, and he couldn't quite remember what it was he had just felt. "Oh."

"I'm your father," the blond man said, and he gave Joel a bright smile, teeth pearly white and straight. "You just turned 29 and I gifted you immortality for your birthday." In a playful voice, he said, "can't have five-year-old immortal gods, now can we? We often wait for the kids to grow up before stunting their growth."

Joel blinked rapidly, his thoughts and feelings like mush in his head. "I'm a god," he repeated, almost under his breath. Yes, that sounded about right. Almost. But who was he to question his father who just gifted him something like immortality? "Why can't I remember anything?"

His father patted Joel's shoulder comfortingly. "You spent all of your life down in the mortal world. When you arrive up in the god realm, your memories from down there are taken away so what you saw in the mortal world won't cause you pain. Don't worry, if you ever go back to visit the mortals, your memories will return."

Joel's eyes lit up. "Can I go back now?"

"Not a good idea," his father said with a sad shake of the head. "The mortal world is going through a tough time. Nearly all of them are dying."

"Can't anything be done?" Joel asked hopefully. While he had no memories of any mortals in his life or even walking among them, it felt wrong to not help them in any way he could. "Give them a sort of sanctuary?"

"If it would change anything, I would," his father sighed. "The Fates have foretold the Rapture would kill most of humanity. Anything the gods do would mean nothing."

"Most? You mean they'll be survivors?" Hope bloomed in Joel's chest.

Joel's father stood up. "Not many, but yes. Enough to repopulate the earth. Now, you should get some rest, son. I'm sure you'll be back on your feet in no time; then we can see what kinds of powers you wield."

~~~

Living with his father and the rest of the gods was exciting. He couldn't tell time passing as he met new people, and honed his thunder and lightning abilities. His father said only a couple of months passed, but it felt like days.

Whatever hesitancy he had previously felt about being immortal, he chalked up to weariness and thus promptly forgot about.

He enjoyed helping Peril with creating storm clouds for mortal farmers, and sparring with Jeremy among the clouds. Some of his favourite days were spent just hanging out with his father, accompanying him as he coloured the sky with a variety of shades he created in his home.

Still curious about the mortal world, Joel often asked his father how the mortals were faring down below. He wanted to visit to see if he could help in the aftermath of the Rapture. Joel could help move large debris or help close up cracks in the earth by filling them with boulders.

And, everytime, his father would say, "the mortals need to learn to care for themselves. If we always help them out when they are in times of trouble, they won't learn and evolve. It's better to visit when they're thriving, which is going to take a bit more time."

So Joel dropped the subject and continued on about his day until he would remember the mortals once more and bring it up again. It was a never-ending cycle, and Joel had no reason to think anything was amiss.

That is, until all the gods became translucent. Except for Joel.

"They're forgetting us; the mortals are forgetting us!" Peril exclaimed that day when all the gods gathered together to figure out what to do next.

Jeremy gestured to Joel, who was still solid. "Why isn't he being forgotten—he's our newest god! This doesn't make sense at all. No one could possibly remember him; he hasn't even been down to earth in his god form before."

Joel's father put two hands on Joel's shoulders, staring deeply into his eyes. "Joel, it is time. You must travel down to earth to help the mortals remember us. In our translucent forms, we are weakened and unable to travel there for long periods of time. I have no answers as to why you're not being forgotten, but we mustn't question it; you may not stay like this for much longer."

Joel swallowed the lump in his throat. He had no memories of ever being in the mortal realm before and, as such, it was practically a new experience. "Do we know how many mortals are still alive?"

His father shook his head. "We don't. You'll have to find them on your own. You must help the survivors remember and get them to give offerings to us; we're counting on you."

Joel didn't know how he could force mortals to worship the gods. He knew the capital he had come from was the main area where people believed in them, so he hoped descendents from his old hometown were still around. If not, and the survivors believed in different gods or no gods at all, Joel was going to have a tough time.

"I'll try my best," Joel said, and he managed a strained smile. Then, he descended down to the mortal world.

~~~

When Joel finally landed on solid ground, his head immediately felt like it was being split open by a cleaver. Instantly, he fell to his knees, gripping at his skull, and scrunching his eyes closed. Old memories came to him in waves, crashing into him like a tsunami, nausea rolling through him. His old bullies, his mother, his old home. His father giving him the option of immortality at a young age and gifting it to him later in life when Joel was on the brink of death.

Joel laid there for what seemed like hours, nursing his migraine and the rush of his mortal memories from who knew how long ago.

As the pain ebbed away, and Joel mentally sorted through his memory, he couldn't help but feel the anger burning within him. His father had forcefully turned him into an immortal god. He had lied about who Joel had once been. Did he want to save his father and the rest of the gods? Joel wasn't so sure anymore.

And so he walked. He had no idea where he was in the mortal realm—nothing looked familiar. Any sign of old architecture from his city or any of the other empires from his time were gone. Just how long had he been up in the god realm? His father had told him ten years, at the most, but Joel was beginning to think that that was just another lie. Chills ran through his body. Finally, as Joel was about to give up looking for civilization, he found a familiar hill. It was much grassier than he remembered, but it was the same one he remembered climbing as a young boy before the Greatbridge and his home came into view.

Joel crested the hill, and the familiar sight took over his senses. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes as the bridge's path led to the gatehouse. The bridge was cracked and looked worn, but it was still there. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He couldn't believe that he was finally home.

Joel slowly made his way across the bridge, glancing down the side to see the water gently lapping at the stone pillars holding it up. The pillars were undecorated, probably destroyed in the Rapture or stolen by pirates.

He made his way through the gatehouse, the wooden doors already cracked open just slightly, before stopping in his tracks. Joel blinked at the scene in front of him. There were no buildings, just parts of the foundation roped off. Off in the distance, the froglight orchard grew wild. His home was…an archeological dig?

"Joel?" A voice asked, and Joel spun to the source, only to see a mortal man in a blue jacket and brown hair. "Is that really you?" The man looked awed, and he pulled off a pair of gloves, nearing Joel. "I didn't think I'd see you ever again."

It clicked, then. Why he wasn't being forgotten like the other gods. Pixlriffs had remembered him. "Pixlriffs?"

Pixlriffs chuckled. "The one and only."

"How long has it been? It looks like it's only been thirty years or something." Part of Joel was relieved that it hadn't been too long since he'd been gone. Pixlriffs had been quite young when Joel saved his life, and now he looked to be in his mid thirties. Maybe he had just arrived in the mortal world in a spot uninhabited by people. Maybe this was an archaeological dig sight because a landslide had covered the entirety of the town.

Pixlriffs went serious and he shook his head. "Joel, you've been gone for over 1000 years."

"1000 years?" Joel repeated. "But—but you're here. You're not an immortal god. This isn't possible. I must be dreaming."

"I can't explain it either," Pixlriffs said. "But, one day, I stopped aging. I don't know if I was always like this, or if it was a substance I touched or ate or if it was something else entirely. But Joel, it's been over 1000 years since you saved me. New empires have formed, and the others have no memory of the Rapture at all, only versions of it in their legends."

Joel's voice came out in a whisper as he said, "the gods are slowly fading away because nobody remembers them. I'm the only one not affected because you've remembered me."

Pixlriffs let this sink in. "Tell me about the gods," he finally said. "If I remember them, then they won't fade away. Still, you should find some villages too. Spread the knowledge around in case anything does happen to me. And," he added with a smile, "later, you can tell me what your ancient capital used to look like and I'll re-build it to its former glory."

And so Joel did. He told Pixlriffs about Peril and Jeremy and the other gods he had lived with for a thousand years without knowing. When he finally got to the god who painted the skies, with blond hair and blue eyes, and a nose like his own, Joel paused before making up his mind.

"And I'm the god of the skies and thunder and lightning."

~~~

Later, after Joel and Pixlriffs finally parted ways, Joel found himself in a grassy field in a village that had taken to his godhood quite easily. The sky was clear and, as Joel looked up at its endless blue, Joel pictured a sparkling marble empire in the sky.

He hadn't wanted to become immortal for the sole purpose of being with his mother, but she had died before the Rapture occured and there was no way to take it back. Now, the only way he could die was if he was erased from mortal's minds and wiped from history books. And Joel wasn't ready for that yet.

Joel exaggerated his feats and his traits to the people living in Lower Stratos; he didn't want to be forgotten. Memory was too precious to him—he would never go back to the god realm ever again. He wanted to make a name for himself here. Not only to prove the bullies who had picked on him wrong, but also for his mother who had always been there for him. Every morning to pep himself up for the new day, he told himself in the mirror he was strong. Both inside and out.

[ninjasmart]

Do you have any tips on how to get rid of inherited fears and limited beliefs caused by social conditioning?

The answer will vary depending on how ma y therapy tools you have.

I can give you a roadmap and you can customise it to your needs.

If you haven't hears about Byron Katie, I suggest you read her books. She is a good start. She has a good pdf with the emotions and the core beliefs.

With some practice you can pin point some of your cote beliefs - 3 to 5, but even if you feel strongly about 2 it is plenty.

If you haven't heard of it - google the emotion's wheel. That is another good start. If you think of a situation, think of rhe primary emotion that comes with it.

Knowing your primary emotions is key. This keps you with the next step - understanding where they came from originally - mom, dad, some other ancestor. You can do that with a clinical psychologist and / or with a family constellations person.

Having a bigger perspective is key to healing. The next step is to do somatic work. Google the 6 healing sounds. If you know a accupincturist do that as well.

Next step is to do Osho dynamic meditations. I love the shaking meditation. If I need a bigger transformation I do the mystic rose.

That is one big branch of healing - working with your emotions. Let's go to the other pillar of healing : the family. Read everything you can get on Brene Brown. She has done truly amazing work on toxic shame.

Then, learn about your family dynamics and most importantly what happens with a person who had a certain role in the family over time. This includes exploring your attachment style. A family therapist can help with that but there are also many books.

You need to explore your basic reaction - fight, fligth, fawn or freeze. It helps to watch wild animals who explain those reactions.

The third pillar of healing is DBT. I can't recommend it enough but one must be ready for it, otherwise it will be not so deep.

..This all may sound quite complex or confusing so let me give you an example. I was raised to be a good girl. That was my role - the good, the responsible one.

Our society makes us women to be the good girls. Especially if you have a NARC tendencies mother - there is no ither choice: you must be the perfectest perfect daughter and you will still not be enough to deserve your own mother's love. Her ambition - yes, as long as you fulfill it, her love - no, she has another child that she loves.

-The core belief is: I am not enough

-This core belief comes with a lot of sadness and perfectionism.

-It comes from a mother who was not available for me bwcause her mother was not available to her and her mother was not available to her because she was too busy running away, leaving family behind and staying alive during the wars.

-As an unloved daughter I tend to go in relationships with men who are exactly like my mom - not available, using me and being ready to discard me. In friendships I have always fawned to women who are older than me and are often sociopaths. Also, women who are hardworking and wise and experienced, but that is due to the course correction that my grandmother did when she raised me half the time (parents are divorced). (You can search research articles about "adult children of .... "- e.g. adult children of alcoholics, adult children of elder parents, adult children abandoned by father, adult children of serial adultery mother, etc etc).

-Knowing what you are made of comes with an understanding, eventually. The understanding of: I am who I am and that is enough ( you can repeat that each morning or evening for a month and you'll see how you'll change the way you see the world). For example - I do man's work with ease, rarely ask for help, and that fragile, vulnerable feminine part of me comes out only around real men.

-Accupuncture and 6 healing sounds and zhan zhuan and kundelini mantras and osho dynamic meditations helped a lot. We all have stored in our body the trauma of the childhood. Mine is from before I was born. I was not wanted, mom was made to not abort me, and she genuinely deapised me for being in her womb. That realization for where exactly the trauma is really coming from can be unlocked with breathwork. Highly recommend. But it has to be very, very experienced practitioner, not an idiot who sees you shaking and decides to calm you - if you start shaking, reasearch says - you need to shake it all off.

-Now, the next big thing is - family. For me the default reaction is freeze. I have had years in which I feel the feelings days later and I couldn't cry. I was raised in people pleasing and I have accepted it as part of who I am. The only thing I do not accept is abusive behavior in return to my kindness. People who have done it are genuinely shocked to learn how good I am in stating and keeping airtight boundaries.

Another thing to pay attention when it comes to family and upbringing is - what coping skills were you taught, or learned. Mine was sugar addiction for years and putting up with crap until I get myself sick.

-And finally, tying it all together in the real world with the links exercise from DBT. A manager cut of my salary by a week just because he could do it and then told HR that I should be on probation until "the old me" is back. But the old me was doing the work of 4 full time employees, was working every weekend, every morning lunch and dinner and night, during vacations. And was never paid for all of this. The current me still does a bit of overtime just so I can help the team but since last Friday I understood it loud and clear: to this manager I will never be enough and I'll have to do perfectly the work of 3 full time employees in order to be considered on the same level as the colleagues who work one job 40hrs only. On one side - I have ingrained in me to be a team player and will want to continue to be helpful to the team even if in some weeks I work a bit more. On the other - to have worked triple shifts and be tricked into not being paid, then to work an entire week and your manager to just decide that he's going to cut your salary and to add insult to injury to want to put me on a probation until I go back to working for 3 full time employees "just to keep my job". It's too much.

[bubblebass1]

What is happiness?

Recently, my sister asked me to fill out an interview for her project, and I have decided to include my answers to those questions here.

1.  Please tell me a little bit about yourself and your life. Who do you believe you are? What are the major milestones you’ve experienced that have brought you to where you are and who you are today?

I am 22 years old, a recent college graduate, a teacher, a woman, a sister, a daughter, a girlfriend, and a creative person. I believe I am a good person, yet I am flawed which sets me back from the goodness I want to achieve in my lifetime. I take on various roles in my life, but the overarching goal in all of them is to support and guide others. However, my flaws are that I am ambitious, proud, and overly emotional myself.

There are a few major milestones that have pushed me into who I am today as a woman, many of which are unfortunate milestones that have forced me into a position of independence. For the formative years of my childhood, I grew up with separated parents, one of whom was an addict. Growing up with an abusive addict for a parent is difficult, but it teaches you skills such as learning how to read emotions and being in tune with others, but on the other hand, it leaves you without a model for how to control your own reactions and emotions. One of the hardest things was being separated from my mother at a young age, and then after years of no contact, she died from a drug overdose. Shortly after this occurred, my father, who had acted as a constant in my life, moved out of our home state and I stayed for college. This was extremely uprooting and taught me about independence. Even though this period of time in my life was like a whirlwind, I learned a lot about myself, such as that I value my independence, but I need certain supports in order to be successful. In knowing this, I aim to be the supports for others, since I wish that I had those supports throughout my life, instead of putting all my eggs in one basket and them sinking at the removal of them.

2.  What are the most meaningful experiences you can recall from your life? What experiences do you believe life should provide you?

The most meaningful experiences that I can recall from my life are those in which I have spent with the people who matter most to me. In more recent memory, I was able to go to Longwood Gardens in Pennsylvania with my boyfriend and all we did was walk around and look at plants, but it was some of the most meaningful experiences that I had that whole summer. Many of my favorite moments are spending quality time with my boyfriend, my siblings, my parents, and my friends. I also find joy in being recognized for my accomplishments such as when I got nominated for an award for my writing, when I published a story in an anthology with my university, or when I can share my skills with my classmates and offer edits and help with their writing or other creative projects.

I believe life should offer experiences that fulfill our need for connection and success in different ways. Connection with others is one of the most fulfilling experiences that life can offer, and I measure success in terms of happiness. While many view financial freedom as success (and that is valuable too), I find that life is more fun when you are chasing new experiences with the people you love, even if that means something as simple as walking around a garden.

3.  When do you feel truly happy? What do you believe happiness really is?

Happiness is not always an achievable goal for some people, especially those who believe that they can never have enough of it. This comes into play when people use substances or become addicts to sex, gambling, porn, or other things that create temporary happiness. I believe that true happiness is more in line with being content than anything else. In short, when you don’t want for things. I believe this because I have experience with addiction in my family, and this influences my viewpoint. When you don't want for things, this enables you to focus on the present and the current experiences you are having and build memories, which then will feed into further happiness and prevent unhappiness by equipping you with experiences to call back upon in times of need.

4.  What does your soul/true self want? Are you living a life that is aligned with that/those desire(s)?

I believe my true soul wants to feel needed. Selfishly, I want to feel like the people that I love need me and want me around. I also think that my soul yearns to be heard, and I believe that every person wants to be heard and accepted despite their shortcomings. I struggle to feel connection and love (I think because of my upbringing) and oftentimes will push people away in fear that my vulnerability is a turn-off. I think this is why my goal is to be someone who can support and guide others, since I often lack that same support and guidance, and see that many people are reaching out for it.

I am not living a life that is aligned with these values at the moment. I am kind of taking a backseat from what I want to be doing career-wise which would support my desire to help and listen to others, because I think that I need to be ready to listen before I take on such a monumental task. At this point in time, I am not ready to listen because I fear that I have so much to say that it clouds my judgement, my thoughts, and lessens my ability to support others since I am so stuck in my own head.

5.  What kind of impact do you want to have on the world? What legacy do you want to leave behind when you die?

I want to make other people happy. I think of my Grandma who passed away, and how she was so full of love for her family and wish my impact on this world could be something similar. I know that my impact radius will most likely be small, but as a teacher, I want to be able to inspire students to value others, rather than have an individualistic mindset. I think the people we often love the most are less individualistic, and more geared towards supporting the group, whether that be a family, a community, or even a classroom.

When I die, I don't want people to be sad, but rather I want them to be inspired to support others in my honor. I think about when I have grandchildren, how I would want them to remember me as someone who was helpful, loving, and wise. You cannot be wise unless you have knowledge of yourself and others.

6.  Will you share a hardship you’ve experienced in your life? Do you believe this hardship was associated with a culture you identify with? Why or why not?

A hardship that I have experienced in my life is the loss of my addict mother, and the removal of my father from my immediate support system due to a cross-country relocation. This is not a part of my culture or identity, my addict mother came from a wealthy background, she simply had a disease that unfortunately she could not be cured from. My dad moving away has nothing to do with my culture, just financial strain, and the need for a life change.

7.  If you looked back at a photo of yourself as a child, do you still identify with that person and those dreams? Please explain your response.

When I look at myself as a child, I see the changes that have occurred throughout my life and no longer identify with that person today. I think that my life experience has influenced my morals and values so deeply, that even the roots system that they are founded on is profoundly different from when I was a child. There are a few similarities that remain steadfast, including my need to be creative, my bubbly personality, and my sensitivity, but the dreams that I had when I was a kid are well and truly gone. When I was little, I wanted to be different than everyone else, I wanted to stand out. Now, all I want is to be a part of the group. In fact, I think I need to be a part of the group to feel good about myself or be successful.

8.  What does “living the good life” mean to you?

Author John Green once spoke about his experience as a bestselling author, and how when his novel, The Fault in Our Stars was released, he found himself touring around the country, making tons of money, getting invited to exclusive parties and events, and meeting prestigious and successful people. He claims that he was living "the dream." However, "the dream" was not his dream. He would much rather watch soccer with his friends, work out in the garden with his wife, and take walks with his kids. This is how I feel too. I think money is valuable only in pursuit of experiences with those we love.

[snwqueen]

                         meet  elsa arendelle  !

                   32 — HEAD OF ARENDELLE ENTERPRISE

favorite song? bite the hand by boygenius 

sexuality: pansexual

pronouns?: she/her 

the ice powers of a young elsa arendelle were unexpected, to say the least. her parents had loved her regardless of whatever magic she held but it was clear that this was a magic that could grow and cause harm to others if not restrained. elsa couldn't see how much damage her powers could do until it nearly killed her own sister. an accident in the middle of snow-filled fun and games had left their family in a rush to get anna help. from then on, elsa understood the severity of her curse, she no longer saw it something playful but instead saw it as something to be feared. out of the abundance of caution, elsa hid away from everyone in her own room where she was able to protect those around her. if they couldn't come into contact with her then they were safe.

it wasn't until the death of her parents that elsa had realized that her problems were truly of her own, no one else knew about them, not even her sister. it was up to her to figure out how to control her powers. most of it involved following her parent's advice, such as her mother suggesting to equip a pair of gloves to block where her magic formed from and her father's counsel to suppress her feelings, holding them down deep within her. pushing through grief and hard work, elsa had managed to grasp an understanding of her powers. it wasn't perfect but it's what she knew she needed to do to protect the legacy of the arendelles.

the family business was long lasting, a growing hotel chain that had locations all around the world. for as long as elsa could remember, her father prided on the company being something he couldn't wait to pass onto his own family when the time came. anna was too young to remember the plans that the girls were only encouraged to follow but, of course, things changed when their parents suddenly died. it was under their father's will that both girls would be given an inheritance when they turned twenty-five, but for elsa this also included ownership of the arendelle company. at only eighteen years old, elsa was expected to one day take over a business she had very little knowledge of. she knew some idea of the work her father did, he talked about it when recalling his work day but this was much different.

for a brief moment, she weighed the idea of selling ownership as soon as she could but that didn't feel right for a family business. if that happened, the arendelle legacy her father worked so hard to maintain would be reduced to nothing. so out of her father's wishes, elsa did everything she could to make sure the arendelle enterprise would stay in the family. she threw herself into studying everything she could about business and the hotel trade. her life's dedication is all towards making decisions that she think would make her parents proud of her.

HC’s:

the very fact that the arendelles knew of magic was dangerous. when the hunters got wind that they might know of a magical being, anna and elsa's parents took threats very seriously. for help on the matter, they went to the order, not only for security but to prepare in the likelihood of their death. her father trusted that elsa would be capable of taking over the family company but she needed time to do so. with his permission, arthur pendragon would be the head of the company until elsa was ready to take over at twenty-five.

can seem very dull at times, she tries to keep conversations to a minimum. her reactions neutral or cold for the most part. one can feel a physical chill if she's really distressed but she usually tries to leave before her feelings and powers become overwhelming.

is good at her job but doesn't really like doing it. she hasn't had too much time to ponder on what she'd rather be doing, she just knows it probably wouldn't be where she is today.

still wears gloves to this day, says it's a germ thing but in reality, her own touch is cold so this is just protective gear not only for her but for everyone else around her as well.

[favroitecrime]

okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up and keep my thoughts to myself (maybe) but everyone’s so upset about no one reacting much to eddie but like. i’m not seeing the same disbelief over how we didn’t see the trio rush out to see dustin with a broken(?) leg holding a dead eddie. we didn’t see the trio coming back only to find their entire town has gone to shits. we didn’t see the four of them finding lucas all bloodied and bruised along with max dead in his arms. we didn’t see anyone react to any of that and i think we were robbed of that. yeah it’s disappointing we didn’t see much of how they dealt with eddie’s death, but we didn’t see them deal much with anything in the aftermath.

[streets-in-paradise]

Untill Death Tear Us Apart - Andy Barclay x (fem) Reader/ Chucky x (fem) Reader

Masterlist

Word Count 2 K

Warnings: Chucky playing family in a slightly reminiscent way to Curse. The family dynamic of the reader and her kids is inspired on alternative!Wanda with Tommy and Billy on Multiverse of Madness. Also, I am not paying any attention to the timelines and just writing what occured to me. 

Summary: Andy and Kyle arrive to your house to find a scene that doesn’t match with anything they have seen before. Your sons have a Chucky and he found a way to include you in their playing. 

Notes: This sorta includes some Andy and Chucky fighting over the reader into the tension of a Chucky Season 1 hunting scene. 

Tags: @losersclubisms​

" There he is, my husband!" You cheered as one of the twins brought the red haired doll to the living room. 

The government people interviewing you seemed very weirded by that description. They didn't know it was part of a game you used to play with your kids. The therapist said it was normal and you treated it as a coping mechanism to deal with grief, so you carried along with it. 

The doll was placed in your lap to continue, your son said Chucky preferred it that way. 

" The boys like to play a game where I am married to their favorite doll. " You tried to explain, provide context because the reactions were uncomfortable to stand. 

They were looking at you like you were crazy and you wouldn't blame them. The woman at least, because the man was too busy directing hateful glances towards the doll for some reason. It was very unusual, considering how exquisitely nice he was with you all the time before. 

" Then we should list him as head of the house. " The blond lady joked, kindly following the game. " Name? " 

" CHUCKY!!" The boys answered her, both at once. 

" Should we count him as married?" 

Kyle was doing the smartest thing, delaying the moment of the confrontation to figure more things out. The presented anomaly was worthy of being investigated a bit further. In no other house they have visited before there was a Chucky showing such closeness with a parent. 

" Yes, the kids made us a marriage ceremony and everything. " You playfully confessed to her what you saw as a mere cute anecdote about your kids' occurrences. " Chucky says that we are together until death tear us apart. " 

" He doesn't believe in divorce. Doesn't he?" 

You thought that those strange phrases the kids would come up with had to be with the close experience of death in their lives. Death tore you and their father apart, so they imagined Chucky would say that to symbolize he would never leave because he can't die. 

In fact, It meant that your life depended of his amusement. 

" He likes to sleep in mommy's bed, we let him so she wouldn't feel lonely. " One of the boys continued. " Husbands must sleep with their wifes." 

" They come up in the middle of the night when I am asleep and place him beside me. I discover him when I wake up and most times it freaks me out a bit. These two pranksters insist on saying that Chucky climbs to my bed on his own." 

Playing dad to manipulate the children was one thing, but the described behavior was far beyond that. Neither Kyle or Andy had a clue on why you were still alive. 

Why was he seeking chances to be alone with you if he wasn't trying to kill you?

What they didn't know was that Chucky got to like your lovely family and he liked you. His initial plan was the usual, but it changed when he realized that he enjoyed playing family among you. The twins adored him and you were a great mother, a beautiful woman and a loving wife to the man you once were married to. 

Instead of manipulating your kids into killing like he was supposed to, he attempted to possess your husband so he could take his place. The unnecessary struggle presented complicated things and he had to kill him. It left him unfortunately stuck on the doll body, doing a few killings here and there to keep himself entertained while waiting for you to develop the slightest glimpse of a crush on someone whose body he could steal. 

After many months having you only through the games of your sons, he finally heard your silly laugh of embarrassment coming out while talking with a man and he couldn't believe who he was. 

Why it always had to be him fucking things up? Andy freaking Barclay, the mistake of fate that grew up to become the greatest pain in his ass. He was there to stop him and, not satisfied with that, he was also being way too friendly with you.

" We love Chucky and he loves us. " A childish voice defended him. " He likes when mommy sings for us, so we sing for him." 

The children were about to make one of their cute numbers, but you sweetly cut them off. 

" There is no time for that. Our visits are working and they need to get to tons of other houses in time. " 

" If it depended of me, I would stay all afternoon." Andy glanced at you as sweetly as the situation allowed him to. " Your mom is a wonderful host and she makes delicious coffee." 

" Pass by anytime and I will bake something for you to have with the coffee. A pie, brownies. " 

" Chucky likes your cookies. " Your son insisted, what you understood as himself asking for cookies. 

" Yes sweetheart, but we don't know what our guests prefer. " 

Chucky observed you long enough to know that was a sign of interest and, considering how suddenly confident Andy was showing himself, it was probably mutual.He was very pissed off, ready to jump over that little man as soon as the situation would allow him to. 

' I like to be hugged' The recorded voice said while accidentally activated, or at least you guessed so. 

" Owww, isn't he the cutest thing ever? They don't make dolls this cute anymore. " 

Kyle was too confused at that point. Were her brother and the doll competing for your attention as part of their tension build up before a fight? That would at least explain one of their doubts. It was hard to remember he wasn't just some superstrong doll, there was a crazy man inside that could be enjoying keeping you alive for a while because he wanted you. 

Keeping you and the kids safe was a priority, but Chucky was secure in the position he adopted so a clean shot would be impossible. Since that was how he wanted to play, Andy was more than willing to keep the bickering going because he had the upper hand.

 He was a man in his own body, your attention was on him. He was talking to you, making you smile... Perhaps at the edge of getting a date? There was nothing Chucky could do about it without revealing himself to you, what would make you release him in shocked horror and into a good spot to open fire. 

Death would have to tear you apart, but he was going to bring it to Chucky before the doll could get bored and bring death to you.