#and i almost did so it wasn't unwarranted

[vanhelsingapologist]

i am BEGGING for more context on dima biting strahd back and how he reacted.

Oh, badly!

So, what happened was that Strahd took the form of one of our allies and lured Dima into the woods. He was more or less just getting information off of her (and, as I understand, was proooobably going to cast Modify Memory on her?) until something felt off, and Dima accused him of not being the ally, but someone else. He revealed himself and approached her as she backed away until she was up against the side of a rock.

She stabbed him through the heart. He kept moving along the blade until he was at the hilt of the sword and was right up in her face. I went into a fear-induced fugue state at that point, but he bit her as recompense for the stab.

This was the second time she'd been bitten by Strahd, so Dima yanked his head back and sank her teeth into him instead. The sword is still in him.

He was. Well. Surprised. And I think slightly amused, because he pulled her sword out, drained her nearly to death, and then took it with him. So, until last session, I was TWO SWORDS DOWN because he had taken both of them.

Dima told him she hated him, he told her something to the effect of "Better to occupy your mind than not at all" and fucked right off.

[famwhy]

Not a Morning Person

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

Hobie Brown X F!Reader

Synopsis: Mornings were always difficult with Hobie: he never seemed to want to get up, nor did he ever seem to want to let you to get up either.

Warning: slightly suggestive but mostly fluff.

Note: 'peak' is road slang for 'sad', 'likkle' is 'little', 'ting' is 'thing' (it seems like I need to clarify this but 'peak' can be used as a good thing and a bad thing, it depends on context. In this context, it is used to mean 'sad'.)

You loved your boyfriend—you really did. He had your whole heart in the palm of his hands and you trusted him with it; trusted him not to squeeze too hard on it—not to shatter it into a million broken shards of a love that once was.

And you damn well knew the feeling was mutual—he'd told you so himself, proclaimed it with eyes that were practically shaped into hearts as he gazed at you with that swirling sense of adoration; one that never failed to make you feel special.

But... you'd be lying if you said he couldn't get a little frustrating sometimes. Like now, for instance.

"Hobie, please."

"No." His response was curt, and very much final.

"I need to get up."

"That's peak for you then, innit?"

His snark edged one of your brows up, and you're sure you would've crossed your arms too had he not restricted your movement with his own—much stronger, might you add—limb.

Your lips parted—very much ready to have a go at him for the unwarranted attitude—when, instead of actual words, a light gasp left them; practically inaudible from how soft it was, but that didn't make what happened any less surprising.

His lips had found their way onto your neck, pressing soft, gentle kisses across the exposed area with an occasional—and very intoxicating—nip here and there. The contact flooded your vision with pink and you almost melted right in that very moment.

"Just a likkle longer, love," he muttered into your skin, lips making contact with the surface in a repeated pattern that shot tingles straight down your spine, "can't believe I got so lucky to land a pretty ting like you."

His hand slipped under your shirt; cold arm resting against the warmth of your stomach as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear in hopes of saving himself from a lecture—and you were afraid to admit that it was very much working. You were always such a sucker for sweet moments like this.

Stop it. Stand your ground, Y/N.

"Hobie."

"Hm?" His head tilted up, gaze looking at you with that sense of endearment only you were privy to receiving from him; the twitch of his lips showcasing his lovestruck smile in a show of vulnerability that, once again, only you had the pleasure of seeing on him.

His hues were softened and practically swirling with that domestic love you knew he held for you; the one that would instantly ease all his muscles and have him actively seek you out just to hold you in his arms, to love on you like he always claimed you deserved.

When you didn't respond immediately, his grip on you tightened and he pulled you further into his side; to fit against him like you were meant to be there, like he was incomplete without you—and you, without him.

Ah, you were always so weak to him when he got like this.

"...okay, we can stay like this for a little longer."

His lips tugged up and he grinned at you, lunging straight for your neck to attack you with another fit of gentle, adoring kisses—ones that made you sigh in what you could only describe as contentment, your fingers finding their way to his wicks, running through them with the bitter taste of defeat on your tongue and the casual swell of love in your heart.

Sure, Hobie wasn't much of a morning person but, to be completely honest—

—you weren't much of one either.

[ro-is-struggling]

In Sickness And In Health || Clark Kent x Reader

Summary: You're terrified that your boyfriend Clark —the local superhero and most perfect man on the planet— will see you sick, so you forbid him to visit you while you have a cold. However, when he shows up at your door saying he misses you, he proves that your insecurities were unwarranted.

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, reader being a little insecure, hurt/comfort kinda, my shitty titles (I tried my best :c )

English is not my first language

Word count: 2200

Notes: I wrote this for me while I was recovering from a cold that had me in bed feeling miserable for days. I was a mess and I felt ugly so I wrote this silly little thing to cheer me up as I continued to descend into the Henry Cavill filmography rabbit hole lol I decided to share it bc why not? Hope you guys like it c:

You hated being sick. You hated feeling weak and tired all day, spending hours in bed surrounded by used tissues. You hated that your throat felt scratchy and that your stuffy nose made you have to choose between eating and breathing. You hated having your daily routine interrupted by a stupid cold, but most of all you hated not feeling like yourself. 

You were a mess when you got sick, tangled hair tied up in a messy bun and wearing pajamas all day. You usually didn't move from your bed, which resulted in mountains of used tissues piling up on every surface near you. Multiple cups with leftover tea and a packet of crackers decorated the bedside table, being your main source of food for the day. It was an unpleasant sight so you preferred to spend your sick days alone in the quiet of your home where no one could see your red, irritated nose or the filth you were living in. 

You had specifically asked Clark not to come by your house for that very reason. You loved him to death, but you weren't prepared to let him see you in that state. You felt ugly when you were sick, almost unworthy to be in the presence of someone as perfect and magnificent as him. Clark was literally the perfect man, he never got sick or had to deal with colds in the winter or allergies in the spring. It was almost impossible to see him disheveled since he was able to stop a building from collapsing with his bare hands without a single hair on his head moving out of place. You knew he loved you and didn't care what you looked like, but you couldn't help but feel self-conscious about it since he was literally perfect. So, to save yourself trouble and to concentrate your energy on recovering, you asked him not to come see you for a few days.

Clark respected your wishes at first, but after two days without seeing you he couldn't wait. He missed you and didn't understand your insistence on being alone, it wasn't as if he could catch a cold from you. So when he finished his shift at the Daily Planet he headed to your apartment —stopping on the way just to buy some groceries and a bouquet of flowers for you. He didn't text you that he was going to see you, knowing that if he did you would find some excuse or some way to convince him to go home instead. That's why you were surprised to see him there when you peeked through the peephole in the door before opening it.

"Clark, what are you doing here?" You exclaimed with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. He wasn't supposed to be there. "I thought I told you not to come here!"

"I know, but I missed you." He pouted and you had to look away from the peep hole before he managed to convince you to let him in with those hurt puppy dog eyes of his. You missed him too, but you were in no condition to be around anyone, let alone him.

"I brought food, I thought maybe I could cook for you while you rest." Clark insisted when you didn't respond. You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, he sounded so genuinely interested in helping you and taking care of you that it almost broke your heart to have to say no to him.

"I'm not hungry," you lied. "You should go home, Clark."

"Why won't you let me take care of you?" he sighed in frustration. You leaned your forehead against the wood door, debating whether you should tell him the truth. You suddenly felt stupid for having such a specific and probably irrelevant insecurity, but it wasn't like you could control it. 

Despite the fact that you and Clark had been dating for quite a while, you still had a fair amount of 'first times'. You hadn't yet gone on vacation together for example, and he still hadn't met your family —though not by his own choice, he really wanted to. And, among other things, he had never seen you being sick. It was such a silly thing, but you felt ugly and disgusting and all you wanted to do was disappear under the covers and not come out until the cold was cured so no human being would ever have to see you in that state. 

"It's not that I don't want to," you muttered more to yourself than for him to hear, though you knew he could do it because of his powers. You fiddled nervously with the seam of your t-shirt, feeling a little silly for having to talk about this out loud. "It's just that I'm not in the mood to have guests."

"I'm not a guest, I'm your boyfriend."

“Claaark!” You pouted, begging the universe not to make you say out loud what your real problem was. You heard him let out a chuckle from the other side of the door and rolled your eyes, frustrated that he found the situation funny.

"What?" His voice was a perfect mix of confusion and amusement.

"It's just that... I'm not presentable, the house is a mess and I feel ugly. I'd rather you didn't see me like this." 

There was a long silence. Your fingers began to tug at the threads of the seam of the hem of your t-shirt while your teeth nervously nibbled at the skin of your lips, waiting for a response from your boyfriend. The tension grew with every second, time seemed to drag on as the uncertainty of silence ate you up inside. And then you heard a laugh. 

Clark was laughing. 

It wasn't a mocking or evil laugh, more an expression of his own surprise at your revelation. But it still bothered you. "I'm sorry, is this funny to you?"

"Yeah, a little." He replied with a chuckle and you let out a sigh of genuine disbelief. "I mean, you know I can see you through the door, right?" your eyes grew wide at the realization that due to his powers he had been watching you all this time. You turned quickly, facing away from the door as you hid your face in your hands. 

"Clark, stop it right now!" You ordered him and he let out another chuckle. "I mean it!"

"I'm sorry, it's just that I find it a little ridiculous. I mean, you have to know I couldn't care less about how you look. All I want to do is be with you and take care of you, baby." It melted your heart to hear the sincerity in her voice. It wasn't like you didn't know that, but it was nice to hear him say it, to reassure you that his love for you was genuine and pure. 

A part of you was dying to be pampered by him, to lose yourself in the warmth of Clark's strong arms as he held you against his chest, soothing all your aches and pains with his presence alone. It was tempting to think of him pacing around the apartment, making tea and cooking dinner while you rested between the sheets. But the other part of you —-the part that was usually in control of your decisions— hesitated, afraid of shattering some sort of illusion or image Clark had of you. It was silly and it only got sillier every time you thought about it, but you still couldn't bring yourself to open the door for him.

"I know, but still... I'm not ready for you to see me like this. I look hideous."

"You could never look hideous, baby." Clark sighed. His voice sounded closer and clearer, an indicator that he had moved closer to the door.

"You're just saying that because you love me and love has made you stupid and blind."

"Well, yeah, of course I love you. But also, you truly are the most beautiful woman in the world." You smiled to yourself, feeling your insides filling with that comforting warm feeling that you could only describe as the flame of love. Clark always knew just what to say to make all your problems go away. It was one of his best abilities, even if it was under-appreciated when compared to the rest of his powers.

"Flattery will get you nowhere." You lied, knowing full well that his sweet words were slowly softening the hard protective shield you had raised around your heart.

"C'mon, sweetheart! I'm gonna have to see you while you're sick eventually. Or what, once we live together you plan to lock yourself in the bedroom for a week and make me sleep on the couch so I don't see you with a cold? Or maybe I'll have to rent a room in a hotel until you get better? Is that what you want?"

You were silent for a moment as your brain tried to process what he had said, not his ridiculous options for staying apart when you were sick, but the part where he mentioned a future together. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't already imagined what your life together would be like for the next forty years. You wanted to wake up next to Clark every morning, share your free time with him and grow old by his side. He was the love of your life, you were sure of that. But what you didn't know was that he was also thinking about your future together. 

"Once we live together?" you repeated in an excited whisper, the smile on your face widening. "You think about that stuff?"

"Of course I do!" he assured you, sounding slightly offended that you thought otherwise. It hadn't been his intention to make it obvious that every night before bed he imagined his life with you, but he wasn't hiding it either. He was shamelessly in love with you so why bother disguising it. "I want everything with you, sweetheart. I love you."

All worries faded from your mind, banished by the echo of Clark's sweet words. Your hands worked quickly over the locks on the door, removing the latch before turning the key to unlock it. He had won, there was no way you could tell him to leave after such a confession of love. All you wanted to do was hug him and lose yourself in the warmth of his body until you melted into one, show him how much you loved him and how important his words were to you. It was more than the expression of a wish or a projection of the future. It was a promise. The promise of love and commitment. He wanted to be with you in sickness and in health, in good times and in hard times. Clark loved you as much as you loved him and that was all you needed to know to feel better.

"You cheated." You joked as you opened the door, stepping aside to let your boyfriend in. He smiled in amusement at your childish pout, letting out a slight chuckle as he set the shopping bag aside to close the door behind him 

"I was just being honest." Clark looked at you with such adoration in his eyes —his blue orbs glowing with the spark of love— that you couldn't help but feel self-conscious. Blood rushed to your cheeks, making you feel warm for the first time since you'd caught a cold.

"Stop it!" you whined, hiding your face in his chest as a defense mechanism to cope with how vulnerable you felt. 

You'd never been good at receiving compliments and always felt awkward when someone said something nice about you, unsure how to respond other than with a shy smile. And even though Clark seemed to make it his favorite pastime to give you compliments, it hadn't gotten any better. You still felt silly every time he complimented your outfit before going out to dinner or when he told you how beautiful you looked the next morning when you woke up in his arms. But just because you didn't know how to respond to his beautiful words other than with smiles and incoherent sounds of happiness didn't mean you didn't appreciate them. On the contrary, you loved the comforting warmth that flooded your insides every time he smiled at you, looking at you with pure love in his eyes. It made you feel special in a way that no one ever had before. It reassured you that you were on the correct path to happiness.

"I love you." You mumbled against Clark's chest and felt him tighten his grip on you, trapping you in his strong arms. You let the warmth of his body envelop you, slowly dissipating all your troubles. His simple presence was more powerful than any drug or medicine you could take, effectively making you forget all your problems in a matter of seconds. His hug alone was able to lift your spirits, restoring color and joy to your tired expression. That was the effect he had on you.

"I love you too, sweetheart." Clark whispered against your hair, placing a delicate kiss on the top of your head. "Now, will you let me take care of you?"

[lovelykrystal]

🎀 you're mine ...!

cw ... modern!au, reader uses afab terms, no protection, creampie, possessiveness, biting/marking, mentions of unwanted flirting

synopsis ... scara and you are out at a club, but while there some annoying drunkards try to flirt with you. not on scaras watch though; he'll have to make sure they know your his.

it was supposed to be a fun night out - your friends had invited you out tonight, but they all had gone off to do their own thing, probably getting drunk if you knew anything about them. you sighed, thankfully you had scaramouche's company, having had dragged him along to join you. however that didn't seem to stop the unwarranted flirting of random drunk men who couldn't keep it in their pants. you weren't too worried, as you knew if anything got too bad, scara would be there to help. first it started with some subtle hints; scara pulling you close with an arm around your waist, holding hands, etc; he even initiated a small make out session between you two.

scaramouche wasn't pleased to say the least. his glare would shoot daggers at anyone who tried to get close to you, and eventually they'd let up. that didn't stop the burning gut feeling he got however, and he wanted to make sure everyone knew you were his and only his. that's how you guys had ended up in this situation; scaramouche dragging you to the single stall bathroom, pressing you against the wall with a rough kiss.

his hands roamed your body, quickly fumbling with your clothes and his own, his growing irritation causing him to become more determined to make you his.

"fucking hate those guys," he'd mumble against the sensitive skin on your neck, "can't they fucking see that you're mine?" he grunted, finally having taken off your pants and unbuttoned his own, pulling out his already throbbing cock.

he made no haste in lifting up your legs as he pressed you against the wall, rubbing the head of his aching dick against your clit to collect your growing wetness and rub his precum all over your pussy, drawing a soft moan from your lips at the sensation. he positioned himself at your cunt, your walls clenching around nothing in anticipation. his fingers dug into your hips as he supported you against the wall, before slipping the tip of his cock into your tight hole, then almost immediately bottoming out with a snap of his hips. you shivered at the feeling, your legs trembling as it ripped a moan from your throat. he seemed to enjoy the reaction he got from you, his hips picking up a rough pace as he filled you up with his cock.

"mmnngh.. gonna mark you... so everyone knows your mine..." he breathed before he bit down into your neck, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, your head thrown back as you whimpered quietly. scaramouche smirked against your neck, licking the mark left behind and pressing a kiss against it, your lewd noises stirring him on as he continued to fuck you up against the wall.

his fingers quickly found your clit, he was determined to make you cum first. to prove no one could fuck you as good as he did. he'd make you cum just from his cock a thousand times if it meant showing those bastards that you were his.

"s– scara, slow– s-slow down, 's too good, hah- nghh, i– i'm gonna...!" the overwhelming pleasure of his cock fucking against your sensitive walls and his fingers rubbing sharp circles on your clit sent you over the edge, the knot of ecstasy snapping as you let out a long string of moans and pleas, his name a chant on your lips.

"f-fuck, m' gonna cum... gonna fill you up... make sure everyone knows who you belong to..." his breath was hot against your ear, his moans becoming more desperate, "...and you better take every fucking drop of it," he hissed, before his hips slammed against yours as the tip of his dick pressed into your cervix, a groan leaving is lips as his cum filled up your tight hole, painting the inside of your cunt white. his hips stuttering as he rode out his orgasm, fucking his cum deep into you, your cunt milking him dry.

you shuddered at the feeling of his warmth filling you up, stuffing you full. a sigh left both of your mouths as you came down from your respective highs, before scaramouche hummed thoughtfully, breaking the calming silence.

"...you think you can handle a little more? 'wanna make sure you're filled up.. so everyone knows your mine..." he muttered into the crook of your neck.

this was going to be a long night, but you weren’t gonna complain.

© lovelykrystal 2023 • do not plagiarize, repost or copy my works.

[erynaster]

The Death of Me

Summary: You and Wednesday share a moment of brief vulnerability around each other one dreary afternoon at Nevermore's courtyard.

Word Count: 983

Warnings: None

Pairing(s): Wednesday Addams x Male!Reader

A/N: Here you go, my attempt at a lighthearted interaction between you and Wednesday Addams. Enjoy. :>

"Why so glum?"

You turn around. Wednesday Addams steps out from behind a pillar, eyeing you with a deadpan stare.

"Oh, it's you." You sigh. "It's nothing, Wends. Don't worry about me."

"I beg to differ." She raises an eyebrow at you, her footsteps echoing throughout the empty courtyard as she approaches you. "You've been quiet all day. Quite unlike your usual talkative self."

"Didn't think you'd notice." You gaze absentmindedly at a crow gliding overhead, before landing on a branch of a nearby tree.

"It was very obvious. Something is clearly bothering you. And... I wish to know why." She says in an almost completely monotone voice. Sincerity wasn't something that Wednesday Addams was the greatest at conveying, but in the duration of your time being in a relationship together, you had learned to read her more... subtle undertones. And from what you could tell, she really was concerned about your well-being at the moment, even if it didn't show.

"I'm... I dunno, Wends. I was just... thinking about us." You sigh, gazing off into the distance.

"What about us?" She asks, her tone as flat as ever. "Care to elaborate?"

You take a moment to ponder your next words.

"Do you... think we work, Wednesday?" You ask tentatively, fearing the answer.

Wednesday stays silent. The silence drags on for a few more nerve-wracking seconds, before she opens her mouth to speak.

"... Yes, Y/N."

You turn around to face her, hardly daring to believe it.

"What?"

"I said, yes, Y/N. We do." She repeats in the same lifeless tone. "Do not ask me how, but we just...do. For some reason even I cannot explain, this relationship remains to be, to put it simply, functional."

"Oh." A wave of relief washes over you. "I guess I was just worried, that's all."

"Your fears are not at all unwarranted." She follows your gaze, staring off into the distance as she speaks. "You had every reason to doubt."

Wednesday shifts in place.

"... I haven't exactly been the most expressive partner, have I not?"

You turn to face your girlfriend, who was now pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. It still surprised you how honest Wednesday could be sometimes, even to the point of letting down her guard a little to show you a side of her that did, indeed, care for you. However often she chose to omit that fact from your daily interactions.

"What about you?" You ask.

"Pardon?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Do you ever think about us?" You fidget nervously as you await her response.

Silence.

"I suppose I do." She says simply. "In retrospect, I would not have foreseen us becoming this... close with each other." She states, an odd look forming on her face as she does.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." You chuckle.

"It isn't." She looks away from you. And for a brief moment, you swore you could see a faint blush creeping up her pale cheeks.

The two of you stand in silence. A crow caws in the distance, the sound seemingly magnified over ten times in volume due to the barren surroundings, completely devoid of any students whatsoever.

"Hey, Wednesday?"

She turns to look at you expectantly.

"Yes?"

"Do you want to... you know..." You extend your arms invitingly.

A repulsed look forms on her face.

"No, absolutely not." She says, recoiling slightly, clearly uneasy about the entire prospect of embracing you in a public space.

"Awww, come on, Wends. Please?" You tease, approaching her cautiously. "Just for a few seconds?"

"My answer remains the same, Y/N." She repeats in the same deadpan tone. But to her immense horror (though it barely shows), you throw both arms around her anyway, pulling her close in an affectionate, one-sided hug.

"Mmm..." You hum, holding her close in your unapologetic embrace.

She doesn't look pleased.

"Let. Me. Go. Y/N." She enunciates each word with clarity, each syllable dripping with a threatening aura. This you overlook, continuing to hold her fast in your arms.

"Come on, Wends. Is a hug really going to kill you?" You tease.

She stays silent. Miraculously, you can feel her leaning into your touch, however slightly.

"... You are lucky I find your boldness to be endearing."

You smirk. "I knew you'd come around."

"One word to anyone and I will end you."

"Deal." You grin, daring to nuzzle into the crook of her neck. She doesn't pull back, though both her arms remain plastered stubbornly against her sides. She's still very clearly unwilling to return the hug.

"Ah, mi amour. You are going to be the death of me, you know that?" You sigh.

"That can be arranged." She deadpans, still standing stock-still in the face of your affection. "What would you prefer?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe something quick and painless, you decide." You jest, humouring your girlfriend's dark sense of humor. Assuming that she was joking, of course.

The embrace lasts for a few more seconds. Part of you wishes to end it right then and there, but Wednesday still shows no visible signs of wanting to pull away, which was rare for her. So you continue to hold her in your arms, taking care not to squeeze her so much so as not to provoke her into ending your life right where you stood.

"Wednesday?"

She's silent.

"This... this was great." You begin to pull away, slowly. "This was—"

To your immense shock, Wednesday suddenly grips your forearm, holding it fast in its current position.

You gaze at her questioningly.

"... This isn't too bad, I suppose." She mumbles.

You beam at your girlfriend lovingly.

"I love you, Wednesday." You sigh.

"And I tolerate you, Y/N."

Though her words are as bland and unfeeling as ever, Wednesday slips both arms around your waist, returning your hug just as a faint smirk creeps up her cheeks.

[blank-slate-jay]

Louder than Words

Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Summary: Joel feelings for you start to come to light while talking with Henry. Things between you two take off when Joel finds you alone, and finally takes his chance. (Setting and story moments from Episode 5)

Tags: Fluff, Kissing(Slightly Smutty), Soft Joel, mention of violence

Word Count: 2.7K A/N: Time for some more Joel Miller! This time something more sweet and passionate. Writer's block made this one take forever to finish, but here we are. Any who enjoy!

*SPOILERS AHEAD FOR EPISODE 5*

A loud crack at the wall echoed within the sealed room. Ellie excitedly jumped up, cheering after scoring a goal. Ellie and her new friend, Sam, were occupying themselves with a game of soccer to past the time.

You were setting your supplies down on a desk that hosted a stereo and lamp in a dark part of the settlement. Seemed like a perfect place to get yourself situated, so you got to work turning both the devices on and getting your things organized in your bag.

Joel and Henry, both sitting at small tables on the other side of the room, were watching the kids play. Whether it was out of boredom or just seeing them entertained brought them the same emotions, wasn't clear.

"If you were collaboratin' to take care of him...I shouldn't have said what I said. I don't know your situation." He offered his apologies to Henry, explaining the cruelty of FEDRA's intention of trying to kill him.

Due to Joel's show of empathy, Henry took the opportunity to open up about his first kill. "There was a man, a great man". By the way Henry explained him, his death almost seemed unwarranted. His selfishness, forgiving nature...having to kill somebody like that must've been difficult. His face made it obvious.

Henry continues after a short pause, "Have you ever met someone like that? Kinda man you'd follow anywhere."

Joel felt his heart jump at said words, his eyes instinctively looking over at you. You were moving your head in sync with the music while patching up your weapons, unnaturally calm about their coming mission. You were just like that, seemingly levelheaded even if the worse was to come. It was something Joel just couldn't get his head around. Yet he still found it comforting, perhaps he knew he could lean on someone in dire situations.

While Joel's attention was brought back to Henry's further explanation, you proceed to set your gun down after making some modifications to it. You turn the volume of the stereo down some, eyes catching a softball just off to the side. You stopped what you were doing, picking the ball up with an idea coming to mind.

Ellie and Sam began chasing each other around, but you were about to ruin their fun. You came out of your dark corner shouting to the two, "Heads up". You threw the ball at Ellie who didn't have enough time to react and ended up being hit in the shoulder. She turns to you with a confused look.

"Ooo..did that hurt?" you say in a mocking manner.

"Screw you" she retorted, retreating the ball off the ground and throwing it back at you.

You of course caught it with ease, "Dodgeball ain't your sport kid."

Ellie scoffed, "I didn't even get a chance, pass it here...I'll show you."

Your eyebrows raised before looking over to the 'Goal' writing on the wall. You walk over to the goal frame, passing the ball too Ellie. "Alright, you two you gotta hit me. Best-" As quick as the words came out of your mouth, Ellie threw the ball at you.

Ellie giggled, watching your expression changed to one of shock. "What? You said hit you..."

You sighed, passing it back to them, "When I say go, Ellie. Like I was saying, best game out of three. I dodge and you two try to hit me. Each round is complete after one attempt from both of you." Sam was then notified how to play the game via his magic slate board and they begun.

Unfortunately for the kids, your reaction time was unmatched. Not a single throw had landed. Ellie decided then and there to hand the ball to Sam, pointing her fingers down at the ball and then towards you. She then charges toward you and jumps onto you. You yelp as the her weight and grip kept you in place.

It clicked then for Sam what Ellie was trying to do, and he proceeds to bombard you with blows from the softball. The kids laughing and smiling in taking their revenge got a smirk out of Henry.

"It's nice seeing that boy happy..." Henry mentions, referring to his brother, "Very rarely does he even crack a smile." Both Joel and him watched as the chaos unfolded, certainly clear to them now that they were entertained. “And your friend is something. Don’t come by someone like that often”.

Joel replies trying to hide his smirk from forming, “Yeah, something for sure.”

Henry looks at Joel, who still had his eyes on the chaos. He thought for a second before stating, "He's a good guy, you know”.

Joel could only give Henry a puzzled look as a response, trying to figure out what the man was getting at.

“You may not be his, and she not be your daughter, but you were someone’s at some point. I can tell,” Henry exclaims.

All Joel could think was how perceptive Henry had to be to figure that out. They had just met not even half a day ago and he seems to have a general idea about them. Joel couldn’t tell if he feels relief or offended by his feelings being plastered out in front of him.

Seconds later, Joel decides to end the conversation entirely by getting up, “We need to leave. We’ve waited long enough.”

———

It was far late into the night now. The group had posted up at a motel after just barely making it through a fight between FEDRA and a horde of clickers. Everyone by this point was exhausted and getting ready for bed, except you weren’t back inside yet.

Earlier you had stepped out, saying you needed some air. So instead of getting comfortable on the floor, Joel gets up to leave the apartment.

Stepping out into the night, he's hit with the night's cool air. He looks in both direction and spots you half way down he open hall with your arms leaning against the railings. Gently, he closes the door behind him and walks over to you. His heavy footsteps alerting you of his presence.

You greeted him, “Joel.”

“Y/n”, he says, rubbing his hands together. The man stood a few feet from you, “Cold ain’t it?”

“No…weather is quite nice. And you're not warm in that,” pointing out his light brown jacket.

Joel shook his head, moving closer to the railing, "Barely." An awkward silence lingered over the two as there wasn't much either one of you wanted to say.

Even with very little on your mind, you tried to spark up a conversation,"Today was quite eventful.”

Joel hummed, leaning against the rails like you were, “Yeah, we’re lucky nobody got hurt.”

“Seriously. I could barely tell what was happening. I honestly thought we were done for", a small bit of fear was noticeable through your tone. “Thankfully we had you watching our backs”.

Joel could sense his heart picking up hearing you say that. His compliment was well rewarded after saving you and Ellie multiple times from being bitten. The man could snipe for sure. “I’m just glad that massive clicker didn’t get ahold of any of ya.”

“The massive what?”

“Some overgrown clicker just emerged among the horde and started attacking everyone in sight.”

You raised a brow, a bit skeptical on how you didn't manage to see it. “Uh huh…you sure you weren’t just seeing things?”

"I'm certain of what I saw",

You backed off, "Okay then. I do wonder how you didn't shit your pants seeing that." Joel let out a quick laugh with a look of slight amusement and disgust. "What? I mean I would've shit pants. I would've even screamed it out loud."

"Y/n..."Joel cracked up some, trying to keep himself from bursting out in laughter by hiding his face in his shoulder. "That is a stupid thing to do."

"Hey at least everyone would feel ok to admit it as well."

Joel just couldn't help but imagining that scenario playing out. One guy screaming it first, creating a domino effect where everyone around just begins to say it too. The absurdity of a situation like that only made it funnier to Joel as he failed to hide his laugh. For a guy who hid his emotions a lot, his silent giggles were quite contagious.

You chuckle along with him asking, "What?"

The older man couldn't get a word out to respond, his face turning redder by the second. He buried his face in his palm and continued to laugh, trying hard to get it out of his head. There was no use, you had put that image in his head and was now irreversible. Both of you went on for almost a full minute before your amusement began to subside.

Joel was the last of the two to pull himself together, sniffing and clearing his throat up to gain control of himself. The silence before that plague the air was now back, only this time, things felt a lot more comfortable. Having Joel there, and the fact that he was a lot more loose played into it. You wished the man was like that more often. Sadly though you knew you needed as much rest as you could get. Tomorrow was undetermined, so it pained you to have to cut your time with Joel short.

"Alright Joel, we should probably head back in now", you suggested, removing your arms from the rails to stretch them out.

Joel nods, "Yeah we should," he really didn't want to. His voice shivered a bit with hints of disappointment. As you were beginning to walk past him, Joel thought about today...what Henry had told him. 'He may not be yours...but you were someone's at some point'. His longing for someone else, was that desire so obvious that a stranger like Henry could figure it out so quickly? Is that the way he treated you, like his partner? The prospect brought Joel brief happiness before thinking about the possibility of you getting killed. A reasonable fear given the world they were in, but Joel wagered the odds. Would he rather you die without ever telling you how he feels, or have you know he much he cared about you before you pass.

The ladder seemed like Joel's choice in the end cause before you could make it fully pass him he says your name. You stop in place directly behind Joel who still faced the open air. You let out a questioning hum, awaiting a reply.

Joel took a moment to collect his thoughts, trying to figure out the best way to go about this. Due to time and their environment, he wasn't as smooth as he use to like back in his earlier years. He begins by saying, "Thank you", turning his head enough to see your figure behind him, but keeping his posture still.

You tilt your head slightly, "For...?"

Joel fully turns to you, "For everything. Your support, your extra hands, protectin' Ellie...just sticking by us through all this madness".

That to you was a bit unexpected, but you weren't going to turn down some appreciation from Joel of all people. You took the praise with a gentle smile on your face, "Of course."

The older man's eyes lingered with yours for sometime. Both of you had a soft gaze, just observing and expecting the other to say something. Joel was the first to react, stepping forward he inches closer to you, comfortable in doing so since you weren't changing your expression or moving. His eyes then traced over to your lips, looking at them before gazing down at his boots. Joel was oblivious to how tense things were. Sure stalling gave him time to figure out his next move, but he couldn't hold out forever.

Locking eyes with you once more, he was met with a gentle look that nearly sent him over the edge.

You couldn't help but say his name in a near whispering tone, "Joel."

By then, Joel felt he could tell you everything, tell you how much you meant to him. But words wouldn't do his emotions justice. He knew one thing would say all he wanted with one action.

Joel steps within a foot of range from you, his hands grabbing both sides of your face and leaning in for a kiss. He inhales, surprised by how soft your lips were when making contact. He initially wanted to keep the kiss to be brief, but it turned out to be much deeper with you kissing him back.

Upon parting from your lips, Joel traces his hands down your chest and all the way down to your hips, getting ready to speak. You were quick then to pull him back in for more, grappling onto the collar of his jacket and locking your lips back together. Joel lets out a heavy sigh into the kiss, grateful that you didn't want it to stop.

The older man wrapped his arms around the small of your back, reeling you in until you were chest to chest. The man's heart was racing, you could feel it pounding against your shirt, just as fast as yours was going. You guessed the man really did have a heart under all that thick skin, is if the moment didn't already confirmed that.

Your arm ran around Joel's shoulder to get a grip the back of his smooth grey hair. Gripping him causes him to moan; loudly. He could feel you smiling into the kiss as you both continued basking in each other's taste. Joel took the initiative and bites softly into your bottom lip to get a reaction out of you. On queue, you groan separating your lips from him.

Heads still close together you speak, "Don't infect me now".

Joel bites his lips, “You want me to?” His voice turned devious, like he had something they’ll make you infatuated by him. You were curious, what did this man have in store for you?

You might end up regretting it later but saying ‘no’ meant missing out. You reply with a breathily, “Yeah,” hands still playing with Joel’s hair. The man didn’t say a word, he began kissing your cheek and trailed all the way down to your neck. You had lowered your arm so that he had room to bury his face inside. Joel started off gentle but was now starting to become more passionate with him introducing his tongue. It made you quiver, your hands grabbing onto his arms that held your hips tightly. You tried your best to keep your voice low, but between Joel’s warm breath and his repetitive licks, it became impossible to hide.

Joel, mere seconds away from nibbling on your skin, is stopped by a sudden rattling noise. His hand quickly grabs his holster, retreating from the small of your neck. Both of your attention's are now down the hall, awaiting the sound to return. It did, and when one of the motel doors opened, you two relaxed when Henry stepped out from within.

Henry lets out a quick, “Oh…” realizing that he might be intruding once seeing Joel’s hand on your hip, “Sorry…sorry I got worried.”

Joel lets out a sigh, taking his other hand off his holstered. “Thought you were in bed.”

“The door wasn’t locked and neither of you were back yet, so I just wanted to check,” he replies.

Slightly annoyed Joel comments, “Very kind of you,” not giving the other man much room to response.

You could tell the poor wanted to get out of your hair. You thankfully reassure him, “It’s alright, Henry. We were just about to head back in.”

Henry nods, “Right,” taking his chance to remove himself from the awkward situation by heading inside.

You and Joel look at each other, both still needy for each other but tired nonetheless. With that desire for you still lingering in Joel’s eyes, you pat the man on the chest offering a suggestion. “So, wanna continue this next time?”

Joel thought for a second, that you were just sending Henry away so that things could proceed between the two of you. You actually meant it though, bringing some level of disappointment to Joel. But the smile you had on your face, no way he could say no to you. Joel simply smiles back agreeing, “Next time it is.”

[daydreamingyuta]

Congrats for your 200 followers!!! I would like to see prompt 17 with johnny, a friends to lovers kinda thing, like he realising that is in love with her and asking her on a date

Flustered | Johnny Suh

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Word Count: 2k

Prompt: 17 "Please help me pick out an outfit."

A/N:  Hi!! Thank you! and thank you for requesting! This was so much fun to write, I hope you like it! <3

"No, it's this Saturday." You say, on the phone, with your bestfriend Johnny.

"Oh, but aren't we going to the bookstore that day?"

"Yeah! That won't take too long, my work dinner is at 7."

"Oh good, I thought you were trying to get out of seeing me." Johnny says with his usual sarcasm.

"Never."

"Hey, I just got to the studio, I'll see you Saturday."

"Bye!"

⸻

Saturday comes by quicker than you had expected it to. You had been working overtime every day this week so it wasn't a surprise that you had slept through the alarm you had set.

"Of course you're still sleeping."

You're startled awake from the sound of Johnny's voice right above you. "What are you doing here already?"

"It's noon. We were supposed to go to the bookstore an hour ago. But, like the gentleman I am, I let you sleep in but I'm getting bored now."

"You've been here for an hour watching me sleep?"

"You wish. Your roommates made some lunch, and I ate with them."

A twinge of jealousy runs through your body, which is absolutely unwarranted. Johnny was just a friend and a grown man; he could do whatever he liked.

You got out of bed, did your skin care, and then got dressed into your usual outfit, jeans and a t-shirt. When you went back into your room, Johnny had made your bed for you and had grabbed your tote bag.

Johnny was always doing things like this. Little acts of kindness. He didn't know that his actions gave you butterflies every time. If only you were brave enough to tell him.

You go to grab your tote bag away from him, but he moves so that you can't grab it. "I'll carry it y/n, go put your shoes on."

⸻

The bookstore was having a huge sale which is why you really wanted to go. You had told Johnny that you needed him to help you carry all the books you were going to buy, which was true, but you also just wanted to spend some time with him. Plus, you and Johnny used to read together all the time when you two were in school, and you always tried your very best to get him back into reading.

As you two browse the bookstore together, you have to restrain yourself from buying every book you see. You settle on a couple that you have been really looking forward to reading. Every time you pick up a book that you want to get, Johnny notices and grabs it from you so that you don't have to hold them.

"You really don't have to hold everything, you're still carrying my tote bag too."

"Isn't that why I'm here? You needed a big strong man like myself to help you carry the three hundred books you getting?"

"Keep talking and I'll actually get three hundred books for you to hold."

"I can handle the weight, but I don't think your wallet could." Johnny says as he walks away from you, making that fake shocked face he makes every time he disses you.

You finish walking around the bookstore, extra slowly now, to make Johnny pay for that comment. After a while though, you pay for all your books and head back to your apartment.

⸻

You two get back to your apartment and you immediately start going through all the books you bought, trying to decided which one you are going to read first. Since you slept in though, you were out for longer than expected so you had to start getting ready for your work dinner. You had almost forgotten that Johnny was still at your place when you heard the Netflix sound coming from your tv. Johnny was laying on your bed, deciding what movie to watch.

"Oh Johnny, remember I have that dinner tonight? I have to start getting ready now."

"Ok." He says, still looking through Netflix.

"Whatever." You say as you make your way over to the bathroom because you wanted to do your hair first. You decided on a straight hairstyle that was half up and half down. You still had no idea what you were going to wear, but this hairstyle would go with almost any outfit.

Once you were finished, you started on your makeup. You wanted to wear a bit more makeup than usual, as this was a fancy dinner. This took a little longer than normal, but you had always loved the process of doing your makeup because it was almost therapeutic.

Once you finally got done with your makeup, you walked back into your room. Johnny had settled on an action movie, and he was almost halfway through. You walk over to the remote that's laying by his side and press pause.

"Johnny since your here, please help me pick out an outfit."

"Ok, let me just finish this scene."

He presses play and you walk over to your closet to see your options. The main reason why your outfits usually consisted of jeans and a t-shirt was because picking out an outfit was always so hard for you. You were thankful that Johnny was here though, for the past couple of years now he definitely became more and more fashionable.

"Alright, what's the type of outfit you're thinking about wearing tonight?" Johnny says, right behind you. So close behind you that you freeze up. He reaches out his arms to start looking through what you have. This traps you in between your closet and his chest. You try to answer his question, but your mind goes blank.

At your silence he puts his arms down and steps a bit away from you. "Huh?"

You finally feel like you can breathe again. "um, yeah. I was just thinking. um, it's going to be a bit on the fancier side but not too fancy. I was thinking maybe a dress."

You watch his face as his eyebrows go up and a smile forms on his lips. "You haven't worn a dress since we were like 12."

"Not true, I wear dresses sometimes, you just haven't seen me in one since we were 12."

"Ah, then let's see your options."

You pull out the very limited amount of dresses you do own for Johnny to look through. He doesn't look for long though, his eyes immediately goes towards your blue sundress.

He holds it up and considers it for a minute before handing it to you. "This one, for sure."

"Are you sure? I was thinking maybe the purp-"

"No." He says a bit too hastily. "I mean do whatever you are feeling, but I think the blue will look really nice."

"Ok." You say as you head into the bathroom to try it on.

You put the dress on, and you had to admit that it looked really nice. You had bought it a while ago but never had the chance to wear it yet, so you were glad to finally have it on. You walk out of the bathroom and head straight to where you keep your shoes.

"Hey, wait, let me see." Johnny says as he stops you.

You turn around and do a little pose for him. "You like it?"

But instead of Johnny's usual smart remarks, he's silent. He just nods his head yes.

"Oh. Should I try on the purple dress?"

"No. Don't change." He says, softly.

You hesitantly head over to your shoes, unsure of why Johnny is acting so strangely. He's not the type to lie to you if he really didn't like the dress, but his reaction was so unlike him.

You pick a pair of short white heels to go with your dress. They're super cute while also being comfortable. You sit down and try to put your shoes on, but the left strap is giving you trouble. "Hey, Johnny can you help me-"

"I'm gonna go get some water."

Even more confused, you try again to put you shoe on and eventually get it yourself. You get up and grab your purse that's hanging on your chair. When you head into the kitchen, Johnny seems to have regained his composure, he can at least look you in the eyes again.

You're all ready to go, when all of a sudden, the lights shut off. You try to turn the light switch on and off and nothing happens. You walk down the hallway and see that all the lights in the apartment is shut off.

"We lost power?"

"How? It's sunny outside." Johnny says, looking out the window.

"Maybe it will come back on in a minute."

As you two wait, you feel a vibration going off from inside your purse. You get out your phone and see that a text from your boss was sent in your work group chat. "Hey, looks like the power is out all over the city. Apparently, there was a small fire at the city's electrical grid and the power will most likely be out for a couple of hours. The restaurant called and said we could reschedule, so the dinner will be postponed to next Saturday."

You told Johnny what happened and how your dinner got canceled. You start to head towards you room to change when Johnny grabs your arm gently. "Y/n, what are you doing?"

"I'll just change into my sweatpants, since I'm not going out anymore."

"Who says you're not going out?"

"Hm?"

"Well, it would be a shame if we let such a pretty little outfit go to waste."

You felt yourself blush. Johnny always teases you but the way he said this was different. "Where are we gonna go?"

"For a drive."

That's all Johnny says before he walked into your room and quickly came out with your tote bag. Again, he insisted on carrying it but it looked bulkier than normal, so you knew he put something in there. You decide not to question it though, still stuck on what he just said.

⸻

It had been a while since you and Johnny just went out for a drive, and you were enjoying every minute of it. He's playing a playlist that you two made together years ago and it was effectively making you both nostalgic.

After about a 15 minute drive, he pulls into a parking spot. You had never been here before, but it had a pretty view of the entire city. You two sit together for a few minutes, enjoying the music and the scenery, but after a while you had to ask him what was going on.

“Johnny, can I ask you something?" You say as you turn to face him. "Why were you acting so weird before?”

“Oh… you just look very pretty in that dress, it took me by surprise." Johnny says, not making eye contact with you, playing with the hem of his shirt. "Not that you aren’t always pretty, you are. But you usually don't wear dresses, so I guess I forgot to control my reactions around you.”

“Control your reactions?”

“Yeah, it would be kinda hard to be friends if every time I saw you I got all flustered.”

“But why-”

“You really don’t know how beautiful you are do you?

You didn't know how exactly to respond to that, your mind racing with so many questions. You settle on a question that you already knew the answer to. "You mean that in a friend way, right?"

"... No y/n."

"No?"

"You don't believe me?"

"I do, I just have so many questions, Johnny."

"Well then why don’t you let me take you out on a date and we’ll talk through all your questions.”

“You… you wanna take me out?”

Johnny looks at you and it’s like you like he’s never looked at you before. It’s weird to see your best friend with such longing in his eyes, but it’s also the very thing that you’ve been wanting for so long.

“Y/n, you don’t have to let me know right now. You can take your time and think about it. I know I just brought it up unexpectedly, but I think we both have been having feelings for each other for a while now. But I don't want to put pressure on you, just tell me yes or no whenever you know your answer.”

You two had been having feelings for each other for quite a while now. You had been going back and forth in your head about whether or not his actions were flirtatious or not for the entire past year. You turn your head to look out the car window so that you can hide the big smile on your face.

You already knew your answer, but before you could say anything you see Johnny reach into the back of the car. He’s holding your tote back and pulls out two books.

“Here, this is the book you looked the most excited about when you got it at the store today.” Johnny says as he hands you the book.

You can see that he brought a book for himself that you had owned for a long time, it was one of your favorites that you had been trying to convince Johnny to read for a while. You two sat in the car, music playing at a low volume, reading. Every once in a while, you caught Johnny looking at you and then start to read again, pretending like he wasn’t just staring at you.

It's just now starting to get darker, only a few spots of pink scattered around the sky, left over from sunset. You two put your books down to enjoy the view. You stayed like that for a while, until the pink faded. That’s when you turned to Johnny.

“Johnny?”

“Hm?” He says as he turns his head to you.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah.” You say as you turn your face away from him to hide your blush. You can’t see his face right now but you know the exact smile that’s on his lips right now.

You definitely had not expected this day to end like this, but you've never been more thankful for a power outage than you are right now.

[arcanemoxhi]

All Mine ✨🔞

///Vi x Fem!Reader///

Warning ⚠️: cheating themes, a bit toxic, NSFW with Vi, smut, strap-on, nipple play, sfw with Cait, degrading (a little bit), secret relationship, arguing, cheating on Cait, praises, virgins

"I'm in here, (Y/N)," You hear Caitlyn in her office.

You like to check on your girlfriend and decide to hang out with her on her lunch break. You and Caitlyn were an item in Piltover for a while now. Officially, it's been a full year together. You both agreed to keep it a simple relationship. Simple as regular dates, occasionally kisses, but no sex. It wasn't a written rule, you and Caitlyn weren't ready for that just yet so you both are still virgins. You can't deny it's nice and really wholesome, but hearing your friends talk about sex sounds a bit exciting to you. You attempt to gather courage to talk to her about it, but it's never the right time with her.

You step into her office and she is behind her desk. Besides her is a pink haired woman around the age of you and Caitlyn. "oh, meet my partner, Vi. She's from the undercity." Caitlyn raises her hand in front of Vi. "Sup, you must be (Y/N). Caitlyn talks about you," Vi leans back with her hands in her pockets of her leather jacket. You giggle as Caitlyn hides her blushes cheeks. "Caitlyn has mentioned about you too, the brawler from the undercity." You giggle as she looks proud of her title. You place food for you and Caitlyn. You glance at Vi, "I'm sorry I wished I got you something if I knew you were here." You scratched your hair, feeling a bit guilty. Vi chuckles as she leads herself out the door. "Nah, I'ma get something from Jericho's. But you two enjoy lunch, you love birds. See ya later, Caitlyn. Bye, (Y/N)." Vi waves bye to Caitlyn and then winks at you while walking away. "Don't mind her, she's just likes to tease and make everyone flustered." Caitlyn says as she opens her container of food as you two indulge in your foods. Caitlyn tells you about an investigation and her partners approach ideas. You listen as you eat your delicious food.

Later that night, you were walking back to Caitlyn's office after you finished your work day. Yet, the office is almost empty except for the distance arguing. You peek in, staying unnoticed for a bit. Caitlyn and Vi are arguing about a investigation, it seems whatever Caitlyn said must've made Vi really pissed. So you stepped in, "I'm sorry, did I step in at a wrong time...?" You step through the door. Caitlyn shakes her head and sighs. She collects her belongings to head for the night. "nothing, let's go." Caitlyn storms past you towards outside. You turn to Vi who's just upset. She takes a seat in front of the desk as she rubs the bridge of her nose. You quickly peeks your head out to Caitlyn, "I'm gonna meet you back at our apartment. I just wanna talk to Vi." You feel bad, but you wanna know more context. Caitlyn is sorta still seething, but she nods as she walks away. You run back as Vi is still at the desk. When you make a swifty return, Vi glances up at you. "Shouldn't you be going with your gf?" Vi rolls her eyes as she stands up, starting to gather her stuff. You walked up to her, grabbing her arm. Vi turns to you as she softens up.

Eventually, you got to sat down with Vi to talk about what happened. Apparently, Caitlyn was reading over a case about something in the undercity and she said something about the undercity folk that kinda felt like a stab at Vi. Even if, Caitlyn didn't mean it, it's still hurtful. Vi had to leave so much at home so she can work hard, especially for her sister. You listened to her as she calms down and finishes her rants. Your presence did make her feel a lot better, since you were a piltie and you convinced her that you don't think like that and it was unwarranted from Caitlyn. Vi's anger has drifted away, as her softness took over as she stares into your eyes. You didn't mean to be so close, but you two were really close. Your forearms are making contact, your knees are touching and your heads were about to collide. Vi felt safe around you as did you to Vi. Vi's soft pale eyes gaze into yours and then to you lips. Before you two know it, you both are leaning into each other until you two finally make contact with your lips. Something in your gut told you that this was wrong, but you can't help it when Vi's hands are wondering your body, up your thighs and cupping your face. Vi pulls you on her lap as you two intensely make out. You're thinking about Caitlyn, how you feel guilty knowing your are cheating on her.

"V-Vi, we shouldn't do this~" You moaned softly as you gripped her hair. She has you leaning back against Caitlyn's desk as she's teasing your hard wet nipples. "I know, but I can't help it." Vi's tongue flicks around your hard nipple as she grinds her hips in-between your now soaked sex. "You're so fucking cute, how come Caitlyn didn't claim you yet??" Vi breathes as she switches to the next nipple, as she pinches the other. Vi kisses all over your soft chest. "A-Ah~!!" You pants as you rock your hips against Vi's moments. Vi smirks at your reactions as she stops what's she's doing and begins to remove your pants.

"Fuck, oh God, Vi!!"

"Yeah! Ahh, fuck." Vi slaps your ass slowing down her motions. She has you bent over Caitlyn's desk as her false cock is motioning in and out. You are panting and whimpering. You are so wet and you never knew you could be like this, but you never realized how needy you are. "Poor bitch. Needed someone so bad to take care of you and you never gotten that from Caitlyn, huh?" Vi starts picking the pace back up as your moans grew louder again. You were so scared of Caitlyn coming back, but you can't help how good it feels to be railed. "Vi!! Vi!!" You chant out and pants. Vi leans over as she covers her hands over yours. "You're doing so good at your first time, you're doing so good." Vi kisses and leaves hickeys all over your shoulders. "It's okay, moan as loud as you want. I want Caitlyn to hear it." Vi whispered in your ears. Her words just got you going crazy. You begin to shake and moaning very loud at the wonderful pleasure. "Your gonna cum? My little slut is gonna cum?? Come on, you naughty girl, I know you love it, I know you want too." Vi taunted you in the other ear. It's your first orgasm from someone else other than your hands. You're no longer a virgin as you came all over her false cock. You squirm as you are finally relaxing from your high. "V-Vi... T-Thank you," you look up at Vi half dazed. Vi smiles as she removes herself from your creamy caverns. "You're welcome. But you know, we are a secret now. You can't tell Caitlyn, unless she finds out. It's gonna be fun having you around as a little secret. I wanna devour you every night."

From now on, you and Vi became really close, but in front of Caitlyn, you guys just became really good friends. Caitlyn was happy about that, so now you all hang out like the 'perfect' trio. After Caitlyn goes to bed , you would take "late night walks" to the lanes. You would always meet up with Vi as the fun would begin all over again. Vi gives you so many other experiences and cravings in sex. The good thing is, it wasn't just a sex thing. Sometimes, Vi would want to rant and just talk to you, and you were always down to listen and give her cuddles to cheer her up. You two treated each other like a real relationship, yet Caitlyn did not know any of it.

~ ~ ~

A/N: muah muah love you guys 💕 tired going to bed now

[mastersoftheair]

ok, so my own final (and very, very fresh) thoughts, bc i wanted to wait until i'd watched everything to make a sweeping opinion of the whole series, and it's quite opinionated. and long. probably too long. i write essays for fun (everyone point and laugh):

my personal (and very, very fresh) ranking of the hbo war shows (not including gen kill bc that's a different war, sorry) goes- band of brothers > masters of the air > the pacific (it's the same for my title score rankings. that hasn't changed yet)

my main points of contention with MotA are 1) the nine episodes, 2) the length of the episodes, and 3) certain editing choices. nine episodes, compared to the classic ten, isn't Nearly enough time to showcase all that they wanna showcase (especially when the episodes are as short as they are, once you get past the recap and "next on" parts). and they wanna showcase A Lot! there so much going on! i'd ask them to pace themselves, but they literally Can't!

i mean, the editing choices are a Whole Thing! practically gives me whiplash sometimes lol. i feel like the weaker episodes still have parts that are Really good, but like. Individually. they don't work together as a stronger whole, which is to the episode's detriment. rather than jumping around (as the show often did), they could've benefited a lot from focusing on the One Story instead of squeezing three more stories into there (i say that, but i think the 4-5-6 episode run (all with multiple stories per episode) did this very well while Still being very good episodes, so it's not like it Can't be done, it just didn't work for 7, 8 and (partly) 9). granted, i suspect a chunk of the weird editing can be blamed on, well, there being only nine (and not all that long) episodes and no one wanting to cough up enough money for a tenth. ugh! i'm blaming both hbo And appletv for this (and covid19 ig). it's just One More Episode, how much could it cost?? and on the subject of episodes, why no episode titles? you used to love episode titles! i could've brainstormed episode titles for them For Free!!

when it comes to the characters, the rankings remain the same: BoB > MotA > TP. it's not totally fair tho, since BoB followed the exact same (and large-ish) group of guys from beginning to end, so you're Gonna know who they all are and get attached. this wasn't the case (for me!) when watching TP, since, unlike BoB, they jump around from group to group. i never felt like i got to know them all that well, outside of the main characters. i think MotA almost hits that sweet spot, especially knowing they had those two main things going against it: large cast And jumping from group to group. there's a case to be made for bias here (i Was the blog blogging about everything MotA for like. years.), but i still think they found a good enough balance of fleshing out the main characters while Also helping the audience get to know about a bunch of minor characters, of which there are a shitton (and their personalities, motivations, backgrounds, quirks).

there's also the representation of women. actual angel renée lemaire is and will always be a cut above the rest (bastogne is just That Good, argue with the wall). she's written so well that it almost makes me forget about how a bunch of women are portrayed in carentan. i have...issues with how women are portrayed in TP (even tho i love lena), so there's that. MotA falls in the middle (again) bc there's Way more women on-screen, but the writing can be questionable. balanced (as all things should be?) captain l'sandra wing-westgate is a character of all time, but episode 7 birthed the craziest discourse known to man (the hbo war fandom), but it wasn't all that unwarranted. manon and michou were sooo cool, but we didn't see nearly enough of them (another victim of the 'editing too many stories into one episode' problem. why not a whole resistance episode? or at least as the only b-plot?). paulina was interesting, but fulfilled one of those 'attractive foreign woman gives sage advice during/after sex' tropes (there's probably a tvtropes page for that idk). so many red cross girls, but none of the in-depth payoff :/ epic highs (multiple women!!) + epic lows (writing women??) = pretty tolerable. not great, not terrible. it was aight. i trust the fandom to build on this tho.

narrative is the big one tho. it's the whole "doing so much with so little" thing they've got going on (i'm ignoring their big budget here lol, could've been bigger). rather than having one main story with many connecting side stories (like BoB), it does the TP thing where there's many semi-connecting side stories set in the same general area. it helps that there's crosby's narration (i enjoy narration, sue me!), and he helps everything connect, sorta. but there's still other side stories that have Nothing to do with him (sandra's side gigs (revealing what she did takes away the mystery of what she Might be doing), the tuskegee airmen, quinn and bailey's eurotrip). would it have helped if there were two narrators (say, someone like rosie)? idk. gonna sit with that one. if there's a through-line, it's not super obvious like in the other two shows. which is insanely funny to me bc i literally like TP less, but that show's got an Extremely tight through-line all the way down. i can't lie and say it doesn't!

back to budget- i've seen people criticize this show for being called "masters of the air" when there's not much of "the air". ig that's fair, but there's the money issue, again. also, it'd get very repetitive if they were always in "the air". there was enough confusion about identifying who was who with the masks on, so imagine if that was Every Episode. out of All the issues the show has, this is the least issue-y. again, that's just my opinion, and it could change.

another budget thing (i think??)- idk enough about costuming and hair for period pieces so i can't comment on that with my 0 background in it, all i Can say is that i knoooooow people were clowning on marjorie cleven's hair in episode 1 (and i could see why, no such thing as 1940s beach waves). but from what i could understand- that actress' addition was a last-minute thing (bc i had No idea who the hell she was and i already found someone cast for marjorie all the way back in 2021). maybe there's something to say about the quality of rush jobs, but i really do think it was the most last-minute thing bc it came out of Nowhere, and timeline-wise, it looks like that bit was done long after everything else had been filmed. outside looking in, it seems something probably went wrong/didn't work out with who or what they already had and there wasn't enough wiggle room (time and money) to fix it. this isn't me being an apologist (lol), but i feel like a theorist at a big board bc nothing adds up! and i wanna know what happened! i'm just speculating! speculating on this blog is All i did for like Years lmaooo.

this is more of a side thing, but some of the lines in MotA feel really on-the-nose, almost corny. and that was Gonna be a knock against it, but there's some equally Extremely on-the-nose lines in both BoB and TP (Especially in BoB), so if i give MotA shit for it, i'd have to give all three shows shit for it lol. none of them are free of cheese.

another silly aside- no peaches, no main gingers, no main eugenes! we can't have 'em all, but c'mon!

there Is some good tho lol. one thing that MotA really has going for it, that i think the other shows have less of, is- and GOD it feels so weird to call this "world-building" when it's actual goddamn history, but- it's got world-building. maybe that isn't the best word for it. but i like how much Bigger ww2 feels in this show. BoB is one stop, then the next stop, then the next stop, which is, admittedly, good from a narrative-perspective (easy to follow), but not as good when you want a scale of how devastating the war is (in fairness, it was filmed in 2000). even TP feels pretty "enclosed" in a way. there's island-hopping, yeah, but all the damn islands look the same (not including australia lol). it's a theatre of the war we otherwise don't really get to see, but there still isn't all that much to see. it's water and sand and rock and dirt. which is the point, but Whatever! would've been cool if we saw sledge and co. in china, but moving on. MotA's able to really show the scale of it, both in the air and on the ground (that scene in germany during episode 6 was both harrowing and fantastic, also the inclusion of the actual children forced to fight nearer to the war's end in the finale). idk i just liked how it was able to zoom in and zoom out (and in and out again) in a way that the other shows weren't.

another thing it's got that the other shows don't is Really driving home how young everyone is (not "child soldier" young, but damn young). the cast is full of baby faces (rip babyface). a lot of ww2 shows/movies don't bother casting to reflect this, but i think overlooking that takes away from the overall impact. you browse through some old newspaper articles or photos of soldiers during ww2 enough and you're gonna Regularly get hit with the face of someone who looks like they could've sat in the desk next to you during a high school lit class. a lot of those b&w grinning faces look like kids bc they pretty much were (more so if they lied about their age). you don't really get that in BoB or TP (it's Crazy when the real life pics of the soldiers portrayed in those shows look younger than the actors).

i'm mixed about the tuskegee airmen. what we have, i love (thank you, dee rees). unfortunately, my biggest irk is that it leaves me wanting more of them, which i won't ever get. speaking as a black person (not speaking for All black people, just how i personally feel about it), having them included feels like a catch-22. if they weren't included in any capacity (all while knowing there were whole tuskegee airmen in stalag iii with the white main characters), there'd be a problem. however, including them (all while having these time constraints and not enough focus on them) leads to the feeling of having them "tokenized" (which i can see). there's no world where there'd be 50/50 split (even a 70/30 split) bc, at that point, just give them a show of their own. but there'd still be a general annoyance that big budget ww2 shows are only ever white. on the other hand, hanks and spielberg and orloff and miller and all the directors (except dee rees) are white, and how good of a story about black people are you really gonna get from the perspective of nonblack people? that in mind, i personally don't feel put-off by having the three tuskegee airmen in the posters/trailers/promos, bc i just Know there'd be a whole nother problem if they weren't included in them at all despite being in the show for however long (it'd be even worse if they made their pictures smaller). like i don't work in advertising, but i don't know if a "sweet spot" even exists for something like this. people would be pissed off no matter what imo (i'm also speaking with a bias here bc i had to browse through sooooo many comments written by white guys whining and crying and pissing and shitting themselves once they learned that the tuskegee airmen were gonna be in the show in Any capacity, so i'm just cool knowing they're in shambles rn (and josiah cross- he played richard macon- always goes Wild seeing his face in the promos, and his joy is pretty contagious).

i give it somewhere like a 7.5-8/10. 3.75 stars out of 5. not perfect, subject to change, gotta marinate, but i'm overall happy with it! MotA's best episodes are better than many other individual hbo war episodes. should i be grading it using the overall sum of its parts, not just the different parts? idk, i'm not being paid to grade lol.

[iron-touch]

"But the world’s an ugly place. Buttering up the truth with ideas of fate, like we’re all pulled in by gravity to some predetermined result no matter what we do, doesn’t make it any better."

Read Iron Touch, a JoJo fanpart starring Polnareff’s daughter, Michelle, after Passione’s Stand arrow is stolen.

Official synopsis and the start of Chapter 1 below the cut:

Official synopsis:

May 19th, 2009: the unthinkable has happened—Passione's prized Stand arrow has been stolen. The perpetrators appear to be a group of unidentified Stand users hiding their faces behind masquerade masks. Giorno suspects who one of the thieves may be, and it's the last person Polnareff wanted to get involved.

Or, in which Polnareff’s daughter goes on her own wacky quest and learns some self-love along the way. Hol Horse is there too, though he'd really rather not be.

Chapter 1: Revelations

Giorno had always considered himself to be a fairly competent man.

To most people, competent was an understatement; a blatant example of unwarranted modesty. From the members of Passione who had witnessed his growth as a leader firsthand to the rival gangs across the globe he had crushed underfoot to the kind old ladies he always offered help to, competent didn’t even come close to expressing Giorno’s natural ability to adapt to and overcome any obstacle that stood in his way. Even before having been blessed by the power of Requiem and thrust into the position of mafia boss at the ripe old age of 15, everyone had considered him to be wise beyond his years, complimented by street smarts and a silver tongue. Yes, competent was usually a perfectly acceptable way to describe Giorno Giovanna.

So it only made moments like this, where Giorno felt so completely incompetent, all the more embarrassing.

He still had a hard time believing that such a thing had happened right under his nose. A childish part of him prayed that none of this was real, that it was a nightmare or some kind of twisted joke set up by Mista as vengeance for putting him in a team of four on his last mission. The embarrassment of being so incompetent was already bad enough, but the potential ramifications for this one error were far more daunting.

Someone had stolen the arrow.

An uncomfortable, almost itchy feeling coursed through Giorno's body at the thought, like a snake slithering up his back and threatening to bite his neck. He fluffed the pillow behind him, swatting at it. This was wrong. It was all wrong. The room inside Coco Jumbo was supposed to be a place of cozy isolation, a place where he could relax and decompress between missions, not a place for him to have a borderline panic attack in. He hadn't felt this way since he was a child, hiding under his bead from his stepfather's screeching threats and leather belt. Although, no amount of privacy could spare him from the shame he felt. Nor should it, the arrow was Giorno's responsibility after all. It was his duty to get it back.

Besides, he wasn't completely alone.

Whilst Giorno sat on the couch fluffing pillows, Polnareff paced around the room's exterior. The cheap prosthetic legs that adorned his stumps never failed to catch Giorno's eye. It just looked strange for him to be walking around on them, like they ought to give out under the weight of the rest of his body. In lieu of the usual cheeky "my eyes are up here" response Giorno usually got for staring, he only got the faint sound of his footsteps clanging against the floor. Slight as it may be, the metallic sound of each step made Giorno's stomach turn. If only I got there sooner, he thought, if only I had gotten to the colosseum before Diavolo that night, I might've been able to restore your legs. If only I had got there sooner, you might still be alive and not chained to this room.

Even through his unkempt hair, wrinkled suit, and heavy bags that weighed his eyelids down, Giorno admitted that Polnareff undoubtedly looked worse than he did. All of his frustration was laid bare on his face; his brows arched upwards, eyes unfocused yet brimming with inner conflict as he surveyed the room, the occasional vexed sigh escaping his lips. Considering everything that Polnareff did in order to keep the arrow away from those who would misuse it, his reaction was justified. Additionally, when considering other recent revelations, Giorno figured that he would be just as distressed as Polnareff were he in his prosthetics. Tired of pacing around the same four corners, the Frenchman flumped into one of the armchairs and laid his head in his hands.

"Would you like to go over everything again?" Giorno asked mostly because the useless silence between them tired him. "Now that we've had the chance to sleep on it, we may discover something we had overlooked before."

After taking a deep breath to steel himself, Polnareff lowered his arms but did not look up to meet Giorno's gaze. "That sounds like a good idea," he responded.

Nodding in approval, Giorno began to sort through the mess of documents laying on the coffee table. The regretful, lingering stare Polnareff kept on two of the papers that had been brushed to the side did not go unnoticed as Giorno attempted to line up all of the relevant files in front of them.

“So,” Giorno began, “Tuesday, May 19th, 2009.” He shook away the self-reproach clawing through his thoughts. It had already been three days. “At 3:47 AM, a suspicious man was seen loitering outside of our base of operation. Tall, pale skin, mint green hair. Armed with a Desert Eagle.” In one of the images taken from the security footage, the man sneered at the camera, cigarette clenched between his pearly whites. Giorno couldn’t help but scowl his cheekiness. “He stayed outside the building, standing at the corner of the sidewalk by himself for eight minutes. At 3:55, two other individuals joined him, both wearing dark blue masquerade masks and hooded robes. Both are shorter than the other man, but given how tall he is, that doesn’t narrow anything down.”

He slumped back into the sofa. “It bothers me that only two of them made an attempt to disguise themselves,” he commented, “The fact that he got there first seems to suggest that he’s either their leader or a decoy. Given what ended up happening, I’d say it’s the latter, but,” Giorno glared at the knowing look that the man had flashed at the camera, “I have my doubts.”

He looked up at Polnareff, waiting for his consigliere to give his thoughts. About six seconds of silence passed before Giorno cleared his throat to summon Polnareff’s attention away from the stray documents. It took another moment or so after that for him to register that Giorno expected his input, after which he sat up a bit straighter and finally let his eyes scan over the other papers.

“He could’ve just been full of himself,” Polnareff added, his stare wandering back to those same two papers, “not every man is as committed to keeping themselves hidden as Diavolo was.”

“But you would think that he would at least be someone we knew if that were the case,” Giorno rebutted, “like someone from a rival gang or someone with the government. If he was someone new who wanted to make himself known, he did a laughably poor job.” Giorno grabbed an autopsy report from the table. “We have this man’s corpse but not so much as his name.”

Polnareff sighed. “That is also true,” he said, his voice tired.

“Either way, I had Sheila E use her Stand on the street corner the three of them waited at, as well as the rest of the area to see if they talked about anything. Unfortunately, it seems that they were prepared for that.” Giorno rested his thumb and pointer finger on his chin, deep in thought. “That alone is enough to raise suspicion. And, along with the fact that they knew exactly where the arrow was hidden, then as much as I hate to say it, at least one of the perpetrators could be someone from within Passione.” The very thought of a traitor within their ranks brought about a suffocating tension to the room. Giorno could practically hear Diavolo’s mad laughter ringing in his ears; how ironic that both of them would be undone by one of their underlings.

“We shouldn't forget that we've taken precautions in order to make sure that’s not the case.” At this point, Giorno was all but talking to himself. “It could just be that whoever we’re dealing with is very cautious. Even within Passione, most of our members don’t know the Stands of those outside their own teams. Sheila and her teammates are my bodyguards, if I can trust anyone, it’s them.” He hoped so at least, especially given that Giorno had left Mista in charge of affairs in his absence. “Their alibis are also—”

A sudden bump in the road caused the room to jolt. The papers on the table scattered on impact, turning the organized mess into a more standard one. Shaken from his trance, Polnareff nearly jumped out of his own ethereal skin from the unexpected force. Giorno sighed and began to reorganize the papers. After taking a moment to gather his bearings, Polnareff assisted him.

"Giorno," he said, putting some papers back in their folder for known suspects, "I understand we're traveling incognito, but we really should consider taking more comfortable means of transport in the future."

Giorno laid the timeline out once again and grabbed the basket of fruit that sat on the end table. "This was the best I could get for us under such short notice." He began to lay out the fruit on top of the papers, giving them extra weight to pin them in place. "I don't need to tell you that traveling via plane in these types of situations is a bad idea."

Polnareff observed Giorno take the two papers that called for his gaze and place them in his coat pocket.

Before he could interject, Giorno continued speaking. "Now then," he said, brushing some stray curls behind his ear, "at 4 AM sharp, our building lost power. Our security cameras, smoke detectors, laser grids…all of it shut down. We were the only building in the area to experience a power outage. Sometime soon after, the thieves blew a hole through the side of the building, about two meters tall and two meters wide, and broke in. Shards of glass were found near the scene even though all of our windows remained intact through the ordeal."

Giorno returned his attention back to the timeline. "From this point on the details are a little fuzzy, but we do know a few things for certain." He removed the apple weighing down the stack of autopsy reports, simultaneously taking the papers and a bite from the apple. "Eleven of the twelve guards on duty were killed via electrocution. The only guard who survived, his name was Mente Vettore, shot the green haired man four times in the head, just outside the hidden room where we keep the arrow. He died on the spot and never even removed his gun from his holster."

He took another bite of the apple. "Vettore fired two more shots, hitting the wall and a chair, but he didn't seem to hit the other two assailants. He would've had four more shots left, but there’s no evidence to suggest he fired any more bullets. Around the same time, another hole was blown in the wall, revealing our hidden vault. Just like with the other hole, shards of broken glass were found by the impact. The vault we kept the arrow stored in was also destroyed. At 4:15, the power came back on, and the two masked assailants were already long gone. Vettore has also gone missing. We arrived at the scene ten minutes later."

Giorno picked up the profiles of the two masked assailants they had drafted up. "From what I can tell, the power outage must've been caused by a Stand. That same Stand is probably what electrocuted the guards. My guess is that it's a Stand with the ability to steal electricity, store it, then channel it somehow. I don't think it's what blew holes in the walls though. I think a different Stand did that, and it's likely linked to the broken glass in some way." He placed the profiles down and retrieved an autopsy report. "Interestingly enough, the man with green hair doesn't seem to be a Stand user. We couldn't gleam anything else of note from his autopsy. His fingerprints have been sanded off, his blood and face don't match up with any on record, we couldn't even discern where his clothes are from."

Trading the autopsy report for a mission log, he choked down yet another bite of the apple. “I had Murolo send All Along Watchtower out for reconnaissance. He spotted the arrow yesterday just outside of Orléans, carried by another masked individual. We don't know if they're one of the thieves or someone else. They were headed north towards Paris, which is where we’re on our way to now.”

Taking a final bite of his apple, Giorno looked up to his consigliere. "So," he said, "do you have anything to add, Polnareff?"

He took a moment to examine the mess of papers, reorienting himself so he faced them head on as he ran a hand through his column of silver hair. Polnareff still seemed unfocused, perhaps even more so than before, though Giorno noticed that he made an obvious effort to hide it.

"We should've kept the arrow in the turtle," Polnareff quipped.

Giorno shook his head. "It would've been a bad idea to keep it here. It was starting to affect the turtle. We wouldn't have felt those tremors earlier if we had never put the arrow in here. This would've been the perfect hiding place for the arrow, but it's not worth risking sacrificing you over."

Staring at the ceiling, Polnareff groaned with uncertainty. "I guess," he muttered.

For a while, the two of them just stayed like that, with Polnareff's sights fixated upwards and Giorno looking back at him with concern. Only the faint sound of the engine and the occasional cluck of a chicken bleeding into the room from outside accompanied them. Though he normally strived for this quiet, almost contemplative atmosphere, Giorno figured it wouldn’t do to leave off the conversation like this. It was time to address the elephant in the room.

"There's also the subject of your family…"

Polnareff instantly locked eyes with Giorno, ready and alert. Chuckling at his immediate shift in attitude, Giorno pulled the two papers from his coat pocket, reading the names at the top.

MARYLOU POLNAREFF, NÉE DELON (DECEASED)

MICHELLE POLNAREFF (AGE 17, STATUS UNKNOWN)

"I can't believe you hid the fact that you have a wife and daughter for eight years," Giorno commented, shaking his head in disbelief.

(Alright, that’s enough from me. Now go read the rest on AO3)

[giggly-squiggily]

Forget Acting Cool- LAUGH! (Big Windup)

Oops I fell down a rabbit hole and came back with some Big Windup content lols.

Heyo everyone! I think I'm on ep. 10(?) of Big Windup and let me just say: SCREW HARUNA! I said it, and I mean it! >:I dislike him greatly! So much so I had to write a fic about Abe getting cheer-up tickles to wash my brain of his jerkface! (Among other reasons- I really like writing Tajima lols) Anywho- I hope y'all like it :D

@intheticklecloset BOOM! Wasn't expecting THIS were ya? >:D

Summary: Takes place after the events of Ep. 8-10; Abe is quiet on the way back from the Stadium game between Urawa Sogo and Musashino. Mihashi is worried as Tajima finds an opportunity to get their catcher to perk up.

Abe was quiet on the way back from the stadium.

Most of the guys assumed he was just tired and let him be, but now knowing a new chapter of Abe’s history, Mihashi knew better.

Even though their encounter was short- talking to Haruna had an impact on the catcher’s mood- and not in a good way.

‘Are you okay?’ was on the tip of Mihashi’s tongue when he snuck a glance at his friend, watching him stare out the window with a heavy expression. He wanted to ask so badly, but he was concerned; would it bring unwarranted attention to something he didn’t want to talk about? Would Abe get mad at him for asking? He didn’t complain when Mihashi took a seat beside him, but that didn’t mean he was willing to talk. He dared another peek.

Abe was staring at him, brow raised. Mihashi squeaked, flushing red and dropping his eyes to his lap. “What?”

“Erm- n-nothing! I just- erm…” No point in hiding it now. “Are you o-okay?”

Abe didn’t respond, returning his gaze back to the window. Mihashi tried not to let his disappointment show.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” Abe spoke so quietly Mihashi almost missed it. Looking back at the other boy, he turned to give him his full attention in case he had more to say. “Just a bad experience, that’s all.”

“Still…” Mihashi didn’t know why he was pressing. Abe did so much for him- it didn’t feel right to just leave him brooding.

“Don’t worry about it, Mihashi.” That was it- a note of finality in the catcher’s tone. Not harsh, but not yielding. Drop it.

Nodding, the pitcher turned back forward in his seat. It wasn’t much, but at least he checked in.

“Oo, broody!” Tajima grinned from the seat behind them, leaning over it so he could drape his arms over the back. “Trying to look cool for Mihashi, are we?”

“Tajima…” Said pitcher whispered, scared of where this was going. Abe merely rolled his eyes, leaning further into the window.

“Are you ignoring me? Wow!” Tajima mock gasped, reaching out and prodding Abe in the ribs. “Talk about rude! Can you believe this guy, Mihashi?”

“Tch-Tajima, don’t!” Abe squirmed at the pokes, pressing his arm down against his side in an attempt to block. “We’ll crash!”

“Yes, cause you’re driving the bus alllllll the way back here.” Tajima snickered, moving upwards to Abe’s neck. “Good thing you’re not- who knows where’d you take us with your head in the clouds!”

“A-Ahehehehe! Doohohohn’t!” The thin line of his brooding expression wavered as giggles escaped. Abe scrunched up, trying to make himself small as Tajima tickled him. “M-Mihahhahashi help!”

Help? The request shook him to the core.

“Yeah Mihashi! Get his ribs for me- he’s too low!” Tajima pretended to massage Abe’s shoulders, pressing into the back of his neck and making the pitcher double down in giggles. “Coach is gonna get mad if I climb over the seat again!”

“Damn right I will!” Maria called from the front, earning a round of giggles from the team.

“Mihiiihashihihihih dohoohhoohn’t!” Abe tried to sound firm, but his laughing fits only killed any real meaning. “Dohohoohon’t hehehehehelp him!”

“Come on, don’t you wanna see Abe smile?” Tajima winked, going right for the jugular.

It was like Mihashi had two tiny beings on his shoulder- an angel in the form of Abe telling him to be kind and not assist. Then there was the tiny devil Tajima himself egging him on to join in.

He really shouldn’t; is that how he’d repay him for his kindness? What would Abe do for him in this situation?

Join in. The little angel and devil said simultaneously.

…

“Whahahat are you- Ehehehehehehehehehhe!” Abe shot up when Mihashi’s fingers prodded along his sides, pressing into his ribs gently. With new spots in reach, Tajima went for it, tickling like nobody’s business. “Stahahhhap, stahahhahahap this is ehehehheembahahhahrrsahahhhahaing!”

“No it’s not- it’s adorable! Isn’t he?” Tajima cooed, laughing along with him. Mihashi giggled to himself, equally pleased.

“No way- Abe’s ticklish?” Hanai perked up from his seat, grinning.

“Get him good, guys! Go for the ears!” Oki called out.

“Dude, why ears?”

“I don’t know- seemed like a good spot.”

“How is it-”

“EHEHHA!”

“See? I told you!”

Oki was correct; Abe’s ears were pretty ticklish. Though the reaction didn’t come from them, but rather Mihashi giving his knees a friendly squeeze just to see what would happen. “Sorry, Abe.”

“Don’t be- he needs it!” Tajima cackled, barely heard over the squeaks and laughs Abe let out.

“SHUUHUHUHUUSSHI! AHEHAHHAHAHHA, YOOHOOHOHU TWOHOHOHOHO! AHEAHAHHAHAHA!” Abe tried sinking to the floor, but between Tajima and Mihashi, he was effectively trapped. His cheeks were warm and pink, eyes squeezed shut in mirth as he tittered. It was a definite improvement from earlier.

“Heh, okay okay. Give him some breathing room.” Maria clapped her hands, signaling them to stop. Tajima pulled away as Mihashi scooted back some, watching Abe gather himself. “You good, Abe?”

“Eh..ehheehhe…heh.” He couldn’t speak, so he gave a thumbs up, earning a hoot of cheers and cackles from the bus. Soon everyone returned to their own things, popping back in earbuds and cozying up for naps. Abe pulled himself up, slumping forward until his head hit the seat before them.

Mihashi’s guilt came back; he didn’t mean to tickle him that much. Words were at the tip of his tongue once more.

“I’m okay.” Abe reassured without looking, startling the pitcher. “Erm…thanks I guess. I kinda needed that.”

A thank you!  Mihashi blinked back tears as he smiled a wobbly smile, day made.

It was so little, and it really didn’t do much in regards to Haruna and the feelings associated- but Mihashi sat a little taller in his seat knowing he helped Abe out.

Thanks for reading!

[thekoopalingsandstuffs]

The Incident Part IV/IV

(Gets continued tomorrow, but this is where it ends for now)

>At the Broodals' house<

Madame Broode: *Off-screen* "Are you POSITIVE???"

Hariet: "Let the man relax, Auntie!" *Chuckles*

Topper: *Smiles* "I appreciate you guys all keeping me company... Thank you..."

Spewart: "We just wanna make sure you're okay, bro!"

Topper: *Squeak!* "Althooough... Um... Ludzy, Ples, do your families know you're here...?"

Ludwig "... No. Heh heh. I got a bit distracted with the whole you-almost-dying-thing!!... I probably should get back to my siblings now... Um... Bye!! See you guys later! I wish you a speedy recovery!" *Walks out*

Plessie: !! "CRAP! I forgot! My sister's D&D club...! I gotta get to her school fast or else she and her friends won't be able to get home...!! BYE!!!" *Rushes out the door*

Hariet: :o "... Well, now what?"

Spewart: "......... Wait a minute, where is Ra-"

Rango: "It smells like lavender! And you can microwave it, so it'll be nice n' warm n' cuddly!"

Topper: "Wow!!" *Hugs Rango tight*

Rango: "... I'm just glad you're okay, buddy..." *Hands Topper the plush* "And that will never happen again." :)

Iggy: "... Uh... Can I help you...?"

Ludwig: "Iggy, what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Iggy: "Woah! Okay, somebody's a bit angy! Let's get that wand out of my face, take a deep breath, and-"

Ludwig: "What in the name of Queen Rosalina were you THINKING???"

Iggy: "I-I um!"

Ludwig: "You almost killed Topper!!!!!"

Iggy: "I know...!"

Ludwig: "Was that your GOAL??"

Iggy: "Uh-"

Ludwig: "Why?? What did you think was gonna happen? What if you DID kill him?? A family would be ruined, a friend would be lost, a partner would be gone, and you would go to PRISON!! Do you want that??? Is that what you're trying to achieve?? I bet you didn't even think about that!! You just went back to class like nothing ever happened! Didn't you?? You selfish, ignorant, unbelievably shallow little-"

Iggy: "YOU ARE TALKING TOO FAST!!!!!"

Ludwig: "I WILL TALK AS FAST AS I WANT BECAUSE AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED, YOU WILL EITHER FIGURE OUT WHAT I'M SAYING OR PERISH!!!"

Iggy: :[

Ludwig: "I just don't understand your thought process... Topper is a person, just like you and me. With friends and feelings and a LIFE. And you were about to rip it all away for NO reason! What gives you the right to harm someone like that, unwarranted??"

Iggy: "Well, a few weeks ago, he-"

Ludwig: "SHUT UP!!!"

Ludwig: "Tomorrow at school, I want you to go to him and say you're sorry. You owe him the biggest, most heart-felt apology for what you did!!! With no excuses. Just pure remorse."

Iggy: "That's... It...? You just want me... To say sorry?"

Ludwig: "Did I stutter?!"

Iggy: "No...! I'll do that. So... Is that all you want from me?"

Ludwig: "... I suppose. But don't let me catch you hurting him again!!! Topper is my friend, you know! And even if he wasn't, he's still a person... Next time, you won't be off the hook so easily." *Walks out*

Iggy: "... Huh."

[racefortheironthrone]

You talked in an earlier post* about economists' attitudes about mercantilism. Where do the physiocrats fit into this? What were they trying to do, what do current economists think of them, and how accurate is their assessment?

*https://www.tumblr.com/racefortheironthrone/741771031361077248/why-do-economists-need-to-shut-up-about

First of all, thank you for including the link! It really helps.

Ok, so let's talk about the physiocrats. This was a pre-Smithian school of economists from France in the 18th century, and they are somewhat complicated to assess because their ideas are a strange mix of surprisingly accurate and completely batshit:

unlike the mercantilists, who they really didn't get along with, the physiocrats thought that growth and especially the circulation of wealth (as opposed to achieving a positive balance of trade and deepening capital pools as the means of driving development) was the most important goal of economic policy.

unlike the mercantilists and the classical economists, the physiocrats believed in the labor theory of value...but only for agricultural labor. The reason they called themselves "physiocrats" is that they believed all wealth came from nature, and that all industrial and commercial and other forms of labor were "unproductive appendages" that existed parasitically off of agricultural labor. This is particularly insane, given that they were writing on the very eve of the Industrial Revolution but well after the Commercial Revolution, so they were well aware that European countries had been making increasingly large amounts of money from stuff that wasn't agriculture. This, they felt, was cheating.

in terms of policy prescriptions, the physiocrats' main agenda items were free trade in grain - they firmly believed that any form of government intervention (say, during a famine to prevent starvation and bread riots) was inherently counterproductive and an unwarranted inference in the natural right of producers to maximize profits, which would eventually lead to higher production and lower prices - and a flat tax on property.

This school of thought was initially quite influential duiring the early stages of the French Revolution, but broke down almost immediately when there was a bad harvest and food prices shot up through the roof, because when large numbers of starving people who have just gone through a revolution and now have weapons and believe they have a right to use them to defend their lives and their freedom see the rational self-interest of grain merchants jacking up the price of their daily staple by 400%, they respond by killing them and putting their heads on pikes and taking the food by force. In that scenario, any government is going to react through intervention if only out of their own rational self-interest. Hell even the ancien régime knew enough to do that, and now the government is run by a bunch of Jacobins.

I would describe their reputation among contemporary economists as one of outwardly-polite condescension of the "well, bless your heart" school of southern gentility. They did hit on some ideas that later economists would run with, but at the end of the day they aren't Big Daddy Adam Smith so they are a mere footnote. But then again, contemporary economists are surprisingly ignorant about the history of economic thought, so it's to be expected.

[ladymirdan]

As someone who just reblogs posts without saying anything, the reason I don't say anything when I reblog them is because one part, I often have nothing to say. And the other part is that most of the time when I comment on a post by reblogging it, the original poster never sees it or interacts with it. I feel like I'm screaming into the void, too.

I'm not trying to call anyone out, I'm not trying to shame anyone. Your point is still valid--it is 100% reasonable for you to feel the way you feel. I'm just providing my excuse for why I don't generally leave comments on your posts or on your blog. I'm pretty new to the fandom and pretty low on the fandom totem ladder, I think I'm one step up from an unknown. I don't get interaction most months, either, and I know that my interacting with anyone doesn't count for anything.

You are not under any obligation to interact with everyone who reblogs your posts with comments. I am not saying that you have to interact with me or that you're under some obligation. You are a popular member of the Tumblr 40k fandom with a lot of followers, I am one scream in the darkness. This is just me explaining why I just stalk your blog (do we still say that? We did back in 2012...) instead of talking to you. Also, I think our interests in the fandom are very different? But I love watching your enthusiasm, seeing your takes. I feel like I'm watching a Very Important Scholar dispensing wisdom in the public forum. (I won't even leave likes on peoples' posts because of what you and Tage have said about the likes! And now that I finally have a post that got popular, I kind of get that???? Sucks that it's not a post of literally any of my art, none of my drawings or writing, just a stupid picture I took where I tagged someone Very Important in the fandom without their permission, very rude of me...) Anyway, it's like, 2am here and I didn't get much sleep.

Pre-emptive sorry for wasting your time!

No no! My post wasn't a callout to anyone specific. And You reblog a lot of my stuff on here and I appreciate it a lot 💙 (I am also a notorious no comment reblogger a lot of the time 😅)

Reblogging on Tumblr makes me happy. It reaches new people with new perspectives and im still allowed to see the interactions. What I ment was taking the post offsite, to a discord or telegram or whatever where im not a part of the post anymore.

And second of all, you aren't a nobody. There are no hierarchy in fandom, (and anyone who says they are some kind of higher tier is a bit of a cunt imo) I value a good commenter/reblogger the same as a would an artist or writer.

But this is a good response, it clears the air a bit I think. I know I might look and sound scary from afar, but I'm (kind of?) nice. And I don't bite(impossible through the screen, I've tried). Lurking used to and still is encouraged way too much in my opinion.

And to you, and anyone who reads this thinking they are nobodies. That is not true. I was a nobody to Tage when we started talking, and now we (at least from my side) are really good friends, almost more then my afk friends.

It is always ok to comment on my posts, everything from “you are wrong and this is why *proceeds to write a 20page rant* to “I want to eat this post so I can carry it inside me” makes me smile.

(I have one rule tho; No unwarranted bashing of Abaddon, that leads to an insta block)

[cloudinterlude]

I was wondering - when do you think Tony really started seeing Steve as a real person rather than as Captain America? I don't think he's there yet by the end of Avengers 1, but he definitely is by Endgame.

Part of me thinks it isn't until the Siberia scene in CW when Steve finally does something completely incomparable with Tony's idea of Captain America, but I'm not sure. It could be earlier. Thoughts?

TONY QUESTION!!!!!!! I love Tony questions. Thank you for the ask! <3

Now this is something that I have actually thought about because it's so, so interesting to me, and it makes everything make sense when looking how he treats Steve in those early stages. I actually have a google doc sitting somewhere with my ramblings about this. If I find it, I'll link it.

As for your opinion? We're on the exact same wavelength. I am a firm believer that Tony seeing beyond Captain America did not happen any time before CW. I'm so serious. If I was forced at gunpoint (a bazooka at least) to budge a little, maybe sometime between AOU and CW, but 100% not any sooner. And definitely not by the end of AV1 - that little handshake at the end was more of an acknowledgement of respect rather than a "Wow, Steve Rogers is an actual person and not just an irrelevant piece of the Captain America boogeyman I've built in my head all these years!". In fact, I'll say that Tony's immediate and unwarranted hostility towards Steve in AV1 is a direct consequence of Tony not seeing him as an actual person. I know you know this, but I'm just saying it again for whoever else may be reading.

And it makes sense for it to be a process, yeah? I mean, even when Tony has the realization that Steve is human, he then has to learn how to understand him. I actually think that seeing Steve as Cap rather than as Steve makes Tony a lot more comfortable, too. If he's just Captain America, then why would he care about Tony's obvious hatred of him (and it's funny because Tony intentionally pushes Steve's buttons to get a reaction but probably equally hates and loves whatever reaction he gets). If he's just Captain America then of course he would be so unbreakable, so resilient, so unwaveringly uptight and good and heroic. If he was just Steve, then that would be kind of daunting for someone like Tony, I think. God forbid Tony thinks, "Oh God, Howard wasn't exaggerating." Because that just adds another layer of insecurity/shame. To think Tony wasn't being compared to (in his eyes) this unreachable, larger than life legend - no, he was being compared to some random guy that truly embodies everything good.

Anyways, another reason why I'm pretty positive this didn't happen until at least after AOU is because of something Tony says to Steve in that movie. After they all have their nightmares, Tony says something like, "It didn't seem to affect you". Now, this is Tony both pushing for a reaction and actually seeing Steve as some stone wall that bad things just bounce off of. Tony feels unsteady, panicked and unbelievably worried and he looks at Steve and to him, Steve looks fine. Perfectly fine. Partially because Steve isn't letting his pain come through and partially because well, Steve's not new to this he's true to this lol. His nightmare is actually just his life. Tony isn't really seeing that though...or rather, doesn't know how to see pass Steve's facade in order to see it. He can't read him, he doesn't understand him, so he's taking Steve's reaction at face value. Which well, I'm not gonna blame him for, but it sure is interesting to think about...I love it so much. I love Tony so much, GOD.

Even after CW, I think among all the anger, grief, and guilt Tony sat with, it might have taken a while to untangle Steve. He's almost forced to sit down and really think about Steve, his motivations, his life, ect...I'd do just about anything to see it play out. Everything in CW, especially the Siberia fight, pushes Tony to make sense of Steve and his choices in order to figure out how everything went so wrong so fast. It's the only way he's gonna reach any kind of acceptance.

Endgame Tony is so special to me especially because of this exact reason btw. Like, thinking about how much introspection he may have done about his entire relationship with Steve and finally being at ease with Steve in EG....It means the world to me, actually. I love Tony so much. This put me right in my Tony feels, I'm so serious. THAT'S MY MAN, MY MAN, MY MAN!!!

So yeah! I don't think I can say anymore without rambling and going on 1,001 tangents lol <3

[linear9]

In my second year doing a masters, once, I was attending a symposium, and the following took place:

I get there exactly on time for the first speaker to start talking about the paper he was in the process of writing. I sit to the left of the (dissertations defense) room, where I coincidentally end up finding an empty chair next to a group of students who happen to be working on the same theory as me, and whom I was on friendly terms with because we attend the same workshops, colloquia..

A few things: the first speaker is a professor at the university I went to. However, he only taught "travaux dirigés" and not "cours", meaning he didn't give lectures because he lacked the qualifications. And throughout the years, I've heard plenty of students complain about him. In fact, he had a reputation of being straight up one of the worst professors: a lot of time, he was absent, and when he showed up, it was to give his students 0 substance, and to waste their time talking about his personal matters.

This guy decides to get one step higher up the academic echelon, in short, to get promoted to get a better salary. And how do you do that? One way among others is to publish articles. So this guy decides to do just that. Except, instead of landing on something in *his* major, he decides to venture into the major I was studying, and in particular the theory I was specializing in. Do I think people shouldn't get to research other majors? No, but this comes with a caveat: the person needs to realize that they're making a huge leap, and that they can't fancy themselves able to master this unfamiliar subject in a few weeks or months. But that's not all: the theory I was specializing in was not liked in our department. I myself didn't like it. To give you a glimpse of how complex it is: in its latest 2014 version, the book delineating this theory was 800+ pages. And that is not taking into consideration the other books and articles the author had published throughout the years, elucidating the theoretical underpinings of the theory. But complexity wasn't the reason I didn't like it, it was rather because of what I thought was *unwarranted* complexity; academia perpetuating itself through overly-abstract mumbo-jumbo that tries to distract you from the fact that it doesn't mean anything and that it's only there so that some people have jobs. But I was pushed to pick it (along with my supervisor) for reasons that I will not detail, because it will make this long wall of text even longer.

I listen to him present the gist of his work on the article so far, I try to not to make what I had heard about him from other students, or the fact that he decided to write an article about a major and a theory he knew zilch about for a promotion (and this is by his own admission)... sway my judgement. And what do you know? Everything about that presentation was ridiculous. For starters, almost everything he said is either completely wrong or partially wrong. The guy didn't understand what he was talking about. But did that faze him? Make him re-think his decision? That maybe if he wanted to pursue a promotion (and his types always think themselves deserving of one) there was still no reason for him to write a paper about something he understood close to nil about?

But this guy's work had one major flaw that simply could not be rectified: the theory doesn't prove what he wants it or purports it to. That was the bottom-line, and the thing that would make all other conversations around his work useless, if not absurd.

He finishes speaking and the chair asks: do you have any questions? So my supervisor, who was the head of the department says: the students working on this theory are sitting in that part of the room, why don't we ask them? One of the girls sitting in front of me fetches the mic, but no one says anything, and an awkward silence ensues. Finally, I raise my hand and speak without a microphone: "how does x prove y?" When I asked that question, I had a solid answer in my head "You can't." But I still maintained a slim chance that I was wrong. To tell the truth I had multiple reasons to ask: 1. I was angry that this work would be even entertained, and I knew that the only reason it hadn't been torn to shreds through insults and mockery was because of who the speaker was: a professor at the university. 2. his demeanor made me angry: he kept cracking "jokes" about the fact that he didn't understand what he was talking about, trying to excuse things that might be wrong about his paper, and to anticipate the fact that he won't be able to answer questions at the end of his presentation, and finally, 3. I think one form of kindness is to not indulge something, let it fester for longer... when it's a cul-de-sac.

He stutters, gives a long-winded answer that answers nothing. By the end, the chair who is a professor of another major, says:" let's ask the expert what she thinks" and yields the floor to my supervisor. She says "I think Mr. ... has been courageous for working on a theory that is very distant from his own major. Please give him one round of applause" And the room claps (Yes, like the meme). The chair then asks "so I take it Mr. ...'s work is correct?" She says yes.

Then, during a break, she (my supervisor) comes to where I had been sitting, speaks to a few other students. I wait for a turn, then I ask her: "I don't want to insist, and if I'm wrong I have no problem accepting that, but I want to know: how does x prove y?" I ask that, after having spent the entire time feeling embarrassed and going through everything I had spent countless nights, from night to sunrise, hunched over a desk, racking my brain, making slow advances..on. She says "It doesn't. But Mr. ... is our colleague, and he's an established name here, and he is owed the utmost respect."

Once, I went to talk to my supervisor about something. She had finished teaching, I trailed slowly behind her as she went to her office in the administration, closed the doors to her office, teachers' lounge... And while she did that, she told me the following about one of the students she had been supervising: "she told me "you didn't understand what I was trying to say, Madam"! Can you believe that? Can you believe the insolence?"

.آه يا قلبي

!ومن بعد نبداو نوحوحو من هجرة الكفاءات! لا ما حقهمش. حقهم يقعدو يعانيو معانا هوني