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fandomwritingbit · 3 months

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Too good to be true

william afton x (fem) police reader

synopsis: A two part series about William destroying your life.

It's your first homicide case as a detective, a young child murdered with no tangible leads and you're eager to bring the evil bastard to justice. It's a lot of pressure though, and to much weight on your shoulders leads to questionable decision making.

warnings: child murder, smut, swearing, drinking, domestic arguing/marital problems. just generally mature themes.

A/n: As always this isn't steeped in fnaf lore, just purely from my silly little brain. I'm so glad to finally have this out and be back on here to obsess over men. Hope you like it Xx

“It’s okay, take your time.”

The social worker smiled kindly, hoping that the pleasant expression would hide how her heart was breaking at the words leaving this child’s mouth. It’s harrowing to hear, the topic of death should never be exposed to kids this young, at least not in the cruel fashion it had been mere hours ago. “We can take a break if you want, get a snack?”

The little lad shakes his head, at only seven years old he knows it’s better to get the story over with. Never before had so many adults been so interested in what he has to say, this is serious. Even if he doesn’t understand what happened, he does understand the finality of it. The scary, definitive nature of what’s happened. He’ll never see his friend again. “Can I have some juice?” The boy asks quietly, his voice the epitome of innocence. It makes the social worker’s eyes sting. The lead officer smiles wryly.

“Sure you can, Josh. Shall I go?” The lady switches her attention from the child to the pair of cops sitting across from them.

“No, I’ll go.” You interject, not wanting you and your superior left alone with the weight of this child’s emotions. He hasn’t cried, but you can see the tears brimming beneath his surface. You look Josh in the face and try to speak as kindly as his companion, “Do you like orange?”

He just nods.

…

The room was heavy in silence during your brief absence, you were only gone a couple of minutes, the vast majority of the time spent in thought over the canteen sink. You were promoted to detective only a year ago and so far the cases you’ve been assigned were of little intensity, drunken brawling, verbal domestics, thefts and robberies. And now a child was dead, murdered, and it has utterly devastated the community. But as upsetting as it is, this is an opportunity for career growth, even if you already feel out of your depth.

The crime scene was brutal, the child laid in the outside storage of a restaurant, face down, multiple stab wounds. Blood smeared on the ground that your splatter analyst said horrifyingly suggests that the child dragged themselves closer to the door, only stopping when they no longer had the strength to continue. No murder weapon. There are no obvious suspects, every man and his dog within a 2 mile radius was pulled in for questioning. But the lack of witnesses and the hole in the chain fence leading to the area was a hindrance. The only lead you have is Josh because, unfortunately, he found the body.

You bring the child his drink, handing it to him before sitting down next to the lead officer, mentally steeling yourself for questioning.

“So, Josh.” Your colleague begins, talking to children doesn’t come naturally to him, but you see him trying. “I asked you, what time did you last see the vict- Mary?” He corrects himself, but all three of you know what he was going to say.

“I’m not sure.” He answers in a tiny voice.

He goes to ask again, sitting forward, but you stop him, cutting in to ask the boy in a different way. “I know you all sang happy birthday to the birthday boy at around half twelve. Did Mary get a slice of cake?” The social worker puts her hand on the little lad’s shoulder, whilst he thinks.

After a moment, he says, “No. Auntie Carol asked if she wanted one but she wasn’t there.”

“Okay, thank you.” You smile, before turning to the other officer, talking quietly, “Coroner said T.O.D was between 12:00 and 13:00.”

He agrees, “So it’s looking closer to twelve.”

There was a group of people waiting outside to be questioned, parents, staff, everyone who may have a shred of information and your precinct was struggling to manage it. The deceased’s parents have already been spoken to and ruled out, and so, in the main interview room another detective set about tackling the restaurant’s staff.

“Mr Afton, we just have a few more questions to go over.” The middle-aged policeman lifts his gaze from his documents to look at the restaurant owner over the top of his glasses. He sees the businessman nod in response. There’s nothing to implicate this fella, no motive, no evidence, but he has a previous so caution was to be taken.

With the question ready on his tongue, the officer sits back in the chair. “How often do people go out to the outside storage?”

He meets the man’s eyes, it’s not the first time he’s been under police scrutiny, probably won’t be the last, but the gravity of this investigation is severe. Not wanting to play any games he just divulges what the cop wants to know. “Frequently, we keep ingredients out there, and other supplies, people are always in and out.”

“Even though it’s a fire escape?” There’s doubt in his face.

William Afton reveals a small smile then, he can’t quite figure out what the copper is getting at, “Yeah, there’s a cinder block out there to keep it open. I disconnected the alarm a long time ago.”

The policeman writes that down, it may go over the interviewee’s head but it’s an important question. The killer had to access the area somehow. And either they knew of the fire door and its cinder block or the gap in the fence. A crime of opportunity, from someone who knows the area well, that’s the takeaway.

Looking up from the sheet, the DI asks another question, “And I understand that you and your partner are more handsoff with the day to day, but were you there at the party?”

“I oversaw arrival and seating.” Afton halts but the detective says nothing, it’s clearly unsatisfactory. “... There were two more kids than discussed, it caused some tension. I left Henry to deal with things.” He elaborates dryly, the tone indicates boredom but that’s to be expected after having waited hours for this conversation.

“Tension?” The officer asks curiously, his eyebrows raised in a most provoking way.

William remembers to keep himself professional, maybe he could have worded that better. He tries again, “Well, it wasn’t ideal. Waiters had to set extra places and find more chairs. It was a fuss.”

That seems to resonate better with the detective because he nods, some understanding written in his expression, Afton has to stifle the satisfaction that gives him.

The copper consults his papers again before deciding he’s gotten enough, he stands, taking his glasses off and letting them hang on the chain around his neck. “Right, I’ll let you get back home. We have your contact information and we’ll be in touch.”

With a tight-lipped smile, William follows suit, pushing the chair back and standing. An old impulse to stick his hands out for the cuffs being greatly fought, it was a different time, different station, different crime, but the same old William.

He shakes the detective’s hand, the standing difference of the two is almost comical but neither of them show any signs of amusement. He’s led out the cold interrogation room into the life of the precinct corridor, there’s a lot going on, a mix of uniformed and non officers and some of his staff still awaiting questioning.

But before the policeman can get away, William let’s some curiosity free of its constraints. “Have you spoken to Henry yet?” The man meets his eyes, no longer as stoic as he was during the interview, the burden of inquisition must be a heavy one.

“No. I’ll be handling staff enquiries. Your partner should be in later on. 4 o’clock I think.” William nods, and the officer now no longer concerned with him, heads off down the hallway. He should do the same, he’ll have to sign out, he remembers that from last time too.

As he’s walking back towards reception, a door opens in front of him, a flash of cream walls and a green sofa, before a woman exists holding the hand of a small child that he recognises. He stands aside to let them pass, watching a male officer leave, followed by a female one: you.

You hear the social worker's voice grow quieter as they leave you to lock the door, your keys jangling as you turn the stiff lock. Your mind is so engrossed in theories, you’re wanting to talk to DI Donnelly about the staff profiling and see if anything has come up in the way of a suspect. You’re so engrossed that you don’t think to look behind you before moving.

The very moment you step out you collide with the hardness of a human body much bigger than yours. You stumble from the surprise of it, and large hands catch your waist to stop you tripping. It’s a very intimate way to touch someone and you gasp from the suddenness.

“Ay watch it, lady cop.” The bloke says, when you turn to see who you’ve just accosted, you see an older man with perhaps the most handsome crooked grin you’ve ever seen.

Choosing to ignore the casual sexism of that you go for a, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Cos you weren’t looking, he thinks to himself but doesn’t say anything aloud, you do look sorry and you’re cute. For a rozzer.

“You’re alright.” He excuses you, raising his eyebrows.

The only other thing exchanged was a mutual nod of regard before the man walked away towards the exit, leaving you to wonder what role he must play in all of this.

William drives home without the radio, lost in a deep track of convoluted thought. He’ll reach out to Henry later, see if anything’s changed. He doesn't think it will, despite the taskforce on this case he thinks it’ll go cold pretty fast. Children capture the news interest every now and then but once the media has no evidence or case progress to get its hooks into, the case is dead in the water. Unless the parents have the money to keep pushing it.

He pulls outside his house, turning the engine off but not leaving immediately. He’s about to step into the circus here, no doubt his wife has been waiting in bated breath, anxious for any news. He sighs, he probably should have drove around a bit longer knowing she was holding her breath, maybe he’d have got lucky.

He drags his feet on the mat before stepping inside, he hasn’t been outside today but it’s force of habit at this point, then he chucks his jacket towards the hook and closes the door. Sighing again, he sits on the second step to take his shoes off, already on edge at how quiet this fucking house is. She emerges as he reaches for the other shoe, arms folded over her chest like she’s already disapproving of something.

“So? What happened?” Clara’s tone is brisk and strained thin. It sounds like she’s been crying, though he can’t imagine why when it’s him that has to face the bobbies.

He scoffs, “They asked me some questions.” Everything about him is closed right now, and if she knew him at all she’d leave it for a while.

“And?” She’s pissing him off, she’s too prickly to talk to like this. She’s worried, wants to know what’s going to happen, what is happening, but it’s not his responsibility to console her like some fretful little kid.

“I answered them.” She scowls, how can he be like this, so indifferent? Like nothing’s happening, making her feel like she’s overreacting or going mad, maybe both.

“For fuck’s sake, Will.” Her voice cracks with frustration and she pauses a second to regain herself. Immediately losing it once she begins speaking, “Do they know who did it? Do they have someone in custody? Will, when are they going to take the fucking body out of your restaurant?!”

He laughs a little then and stands from the stairs, “Why would I know that? The police will be taking care of that, or the coroners, I don’t fucking know.”

“Don’t know, or don’t care?” There’s tears streaming down his wife’s face and he can’t cope.

“Does it matter?” He looks particularly harsh right now, a sharpness in his gaze and tone that’s like a razor and again her face twists in disgust.

William rubs the bridge of his nose, allowing his eyes to close for a moment of respite from the headache only Clara can claw out of him. With a deep breath he bends down and picks up his shoes, moving then to pick up his coat from the floor where it landed. He’s not staying, not with her wound tight as a wire-trap and not in a good way.

“What are you doing?” Her voice is quiet now, trying her hand at reasoning. He’s past that though.

“Going out, I can’t deal with you now.” He doesn’t even put the shoes back on, just carries them out with him, shutting the door heavily behind him. Leaving her to her.

It’s about to hit 8pm before you leave the station, it's been a long day but you hardly noticed what with how busy you’ve been. Your questioning didn't end with Josh, and even after talking to four other witnesses, you had your paperwork to do, then discussion with your colleagues. Everyone on the case has their own theories but at this point that’s all they are: theories. Nothing concrete and no real inclination into what to press next.

You change before leaving, knowing that you’re too restless to just go home, you need to be alone with your thoughts over a cold drink. So you get in your car picturing the hotel only a few minutes from your flat, the business-y one with the nice bar and the clientele that will leave you alone. That’s your ticket for that cold drink.

Music plays as you drive there, a CD you’ve made compiling your favourite tunes, it should help take your mind off the horrors you’ve seen today but it doesn’t. You can pull yourself away from the crime scene, that poor child in the centre of it, nor the distant look in young Josh’s eyes. No matter how much you enjoy the song playing, it's just not enough to distract you.

You park easy enough, a weekday night means that the car park isn’t completely full so you manage to get close to the entrance. Which you’re glad of when the moment your car door opens specks of rain tap your skin. Looks like the weather’s about as miserable as you feel.

The hotel bar is all dark furniture and yellow lights, a soft, warm and dark oasis and you feel relief to step inside. It’s a swish bar, not the kind of place to get a pint, even if that’s what you’re craving, it’s a nice glass with a hefty price bar. And so as you approach the bartender you’re thinking of what you want.

There’s only a few stools at the bar, seven or eight at a glance, and they’re mostly full. A gap between two gentlemen both very focused on their drinks, but you don’t want to get chatted up right now, especially from either side. At the otherside there’s two empty ones but one has a jacket laid over it and a drink on the counter. But needs must.

You sit, taking your coat off and laying it over your legs, smiling politely at the bartender.

…

“There you are.” The barman reappears in front of you, setting your drink down on the counter, “That’ll be £3.30, please.”

You scoff a little at that, mentally complaining about how the world’s gone mad with these prices, but you obediently reach into your bag for your wallet, a five pound note soon between your fingers.

“Thank you.” Your hand is raised for your change, you’ll tip later, at this point you don’t know how many drinks you’ll be having.

As the barman is digging around the till for your change the occupier of the seat beside you returns, neglecting to pick up his jacket in favour of sitting on it. You blank the man, receiving your change with a “Cheers,” for the bloke.

You sip the drink through the little straw, it’s nice to be fair and just what you need after today. You’re ready to forget about it, but you’re becoming increasingly aware of the figure next to you looking at you, and any kind of scrutiny is too much right now. So you turn to it, and you recognise the man immediately.

The man you’d bumped into earlier, who you’d since found out a lot about from his interviewer.

“Well, if it isn’t the lady copper. What are the chances of that?” There’s a casualness to his tone and posture that suggests he’s perhaps nearing the point of one drink too many. That’s what prevents your usual curt response of ‘just copper is fine’.

You don't smile, don't show any signs of the polite mannerisms he’d expect, just look at him objectively and he can tell you’re analysing the shit out of him. “Oh I remember you.” You start plainly, wanting to get back to the solitude you came here for. “By which I mean, I have since found out who you are.” It’s designed to be standoffish, encourage him to keep to himself, and play to what you learned about the man from his record: he shouldn’t like the police.

It doesn’t work though, the glasses of whiskey he's had tonight make the very blunt and sober way you’re talking to him more than amusing. And it shows on his face, “Ah someone’s been through some files.” The ways he’s grinning irks you, but if this was any other day in any other place you’d be swivelling yourself around to talk properly to the attractive man beside you. “Bumped into me and had to find out more, I get it.”

Your expression remains stern, he must be drunk as a lord or at least confident as one to say that. “I recognised your… photograph; the man who walked into me and called me ‘lady cop’.” He owns the restaurant the victim was murdered in, he’s a key figure in this case, you shouldn’t really be talking to him at all, let alone in a bar. But your drink was expensive and you’re not going to fucking leave it. “William Afton.” You say his name offhandedly, no feeling on it, but he still likes how pretty it sounds off your tongue.

“You can say mugshot, darling, I’m aware I have one.” He snickers at the look on your face, you were trying to preserve him some dignity in your wording, so much for that. The bloke sticks out his hand for you, “Just William will do it.”

You take his hand before your mind can overcome your manners, introducing yourself as, “DC L/n.” He has a firm handshake, much more respectable than the bitten down nails on his larger than most hands. Then again, he’s a larger than most fella, sat next to you now his feet are completely rested on the floor, whereas yours are tucked neatly on the bar of the stool.

He chuckles at the formality, fucking Detective Constable, you really aren’t budging off your high horse, are you? Normally he’d give up on someone being this clearly closed off with him, but not tonight. He’s starved of the chatter and drink has alway made him want to make new friends, especially when they're as cute and grumpy as you. You need cheering up, and he needs the challenge.

“We’re not at the station now, love. What’s your name?” He watches the frown on your face grow that little bit stronger and has to hide the smirk on his face behind the rim of his drink.

“It’s definitely not ‘love’.” Your voice is firm and you let the silence that follows it sit for a few seconds. But then you consider who you’re doing this for. It’s not yourself, you don’t want to be rude to anyone, let alone a tipsy person who probably doesn't know how annoying he’s being. You’re not doing it for work, there’s no boss here to remind you of your conduct, there’s been no suggestion of his involvement, even with the previous convictions. So why not take your mind off things with some meaningless conversation?

You sigh, then tell him your first name.

“So… is this your regular?” You ask the cliche question in some effort to force yourself into normality, thinking about any other way to ask him if he comes here often, hoping he won't catch on to how his answer might impact if you come back here again.

His eyes narrow at the change in your manner, but he goes along with it, “No. No, I’m just taking a break from domestic bliss.” The words are sarcastic enough that you gather their meaning easily, unhappy at home, coming out to get away from it, it’s fair enough. You nod, mentally clocking the silver band on his left hand and chiding yourself instantly. That’s not the kind of distraction you came here for.

“And what has you here?” He can take a guess, a long, bloody day at work, sufficient to make most people thirsty, but curiosity nips at him, he wants to know how senior you are, what your role in the whole shitshow is. More than that he wants to know what’s come of the police’s incessant questioning, and what ammo they have.

An incredulous laugh leaves you, “Just the joy of work, you know. A lot of difficult things to think about- I already know I’ll never sleep tonight.” You’re only half joking, even with a few more g&ts you don’t see yourself getting any rest.

You sip your drink, realising all of a sudden that you’re not far from needing another. And as you pull the glass away the man beside you says, “Oh, I could help you with that.”

Turning to him straight away, you’re practically scowling. What a thing to fucking say.

At your disdainful expression he adds, through a wicked smirk, “Night nurse- you know the little bottle? That usually sorts me out.” All his suggestiveness dropped, and now you look silly for overreacting.

“Aren’t you funny.” Despite the palpable sarcasm on the words you are smiling, just a little, you can’t help it, your facade draining faster than your gin. You swirl the liquid around, thinking over your words before you say them, you know better than the harmlessness of this, even if you wish you didn’t. “You’re being awfully chummy with me and I’m not sure why. I can’t and won’t tell you about the case.”

You try to hold back the sharp edge of those words but even said nicely they’re cutting.

It doesn't faze him though, and he leans a little closer like he’s jokingly telling you a secret. “I’m half-cut, lovely. I’d be chummy with anyone sat here, especially if they need cheering up as much as you do.”

You let your expression soften a bit, there’s a relief from what he said that there shouldn’t be. “Based on your file, I’d have thought you’d sooner switch seats than sit next to me.” You smirk as you speak, teasing but it’s based in truth.

“Oh calm down.” He’s shaking his head at you, “I’ve nowt against the police, it’s only a job. Until today I hadn’t seen the inside of a police station for going on 20 years. It sounds like you’re the one with prejudices.” He’s openly mocking you now, and you can see why, but he can say what he likes, it doesn’t change what you read.

The officer’s scrawl was plain to see: ‘Fucking filth’ he said to PC Markham, right before headbutting him, adding assault of an officer to his other charges.

“You don’t think people can change then?” He asks, more seriously than anything else he’s said tonight.

You think about it, going over both sides of the argument in your head whilst he waits expectantly. You arrive at, “I think… If they want it enough, then yeah.”

He shrugs then, back to wearing a striking grin, “Well, don’t worry then. I’m good at getting what I want.”

Yeah, I’ll bet you are, you think, trying to hide the thought from your face. Opting to only say, “You’re insufferable.” under your breath.

“No, just drunk. I think I need a water.” There’s a new self-deprecation to his tone and it amuses you. WIlliam glances at your empty glass and already knows you’ll be having another. He likes this back and forth, it’s good fun, much more entertaining than the chat he’d be having at home right now.

He leans forward a bit to catch the bartender's attention, “Will you get us another one of these and a water, thanks mate.” He slides your glass forward for the man to see and he nods, going about the order.

“Oh, you were serious.” You say, partially to yourself, it’s hard to tell with this man. That’s probably the trouble.

He sits back, “Yeah, I’ll have to keep myself sharp if you’re sitting with me, sweetheart.”

You grin, yeah there’s the fucking trouble.

You don’t know how another drink turned into three. And how three turned into you watching him get a hotel room, his elbows on the desk as he talks to the receptionist. And how that turned into keys in his pocket, the two of you getting in a lift. And then your hands pulling on his shirt to get him close enough you can kiss him, his tall frame pressing you against the wall of the lift.

You don’t think about how stupid this is as you’re doing it, you’re too distracted by the heat of him and the all encompassing way his tongue is in your mouth. You moan into the kiss, knuckles taunt with his shirt fabric balled up in them. You’re not drunk, you know what you’re doing. The alcohol isn’t affecting your judgement, it’s only making your blood warm and helping stoke the heat flickering in your core.

He doesn’t hesitate in touching you, neither of you worried about discovery, hands on your hips soon sliding low and squeezing your arse. You gasp a little as his touch brings you to your tippy-toes. The kiss is broken and has your lips tracing down his jaw, on his neck then shamelessly sucking his earlobe. You can feel how much he likes that digging into your stomach and your body rings with want.

His hands are under your shirt before the lift stops, doors opening to reveal a man waiting, a suitcase by his side. You push the man off you, struggling not to laugh, especially when a quick glance reveals that William is. Hot in the face, you right yourself as the man drags his case into the small space, your skirt pulled back down and shirt buttoned back up.

“Uh we’re still going up, mate.” William says, snickering.

“Only one floor.” The man responds bluntly, clearly not wanting any interaction with the two degenerates he’s just uncovered.

You share a look with William, that has you pressing your lips together to stifle laughter. He looks very dishevelled, you hand’t noticed quite how hard you’d been going at him, his shirt is creased and his hair is a fucking mess. God knows what you look like.

It seems to take a long time to go up one floor, but the very second the doors open you and William are quick to leave.

“What a nice chap.” He sniggers and you can finally laugh away some of that embarrassment, how stupid the both of you are, but nothing to be done now. The only compromise you can make now is to keep your hands to yourself until you’re in a more private setting, but that’s easier said than done when your core is tight with need.

Following his form, you try to take mental note of how to get out of here, so many beige corridors to wind around before you’re standing in front of the room this near stranger has purchased. You watch him put the key in the lock and for just a moment you listen to your mind. It’s not a good idea, it’s unprofessional, inappropriate and a host of other things but you’re warm between your legs and the want to continue what was interrupted outweighs reason.

He lets you inside before him and you turn to catch his eyes low on your body, making you grin unwillingly. It’s a nice room, as swanky as the bar downstairs, long flowy curtains shrouding huge windows and a load more pillows on the bed than necessary.

William looks around the room more pragmatically, he wants another drink and there’s got to be something in here, a fancy place like this always has opportunity to spend more money. There’s an odd cabinet a good distance from the foot of the bed, and when he opens it lo and behold an incognito fridge. “You want another drink?”

You look over to William on his knees looking at what you quickly realise is a minibar, curiosity brings you closer and the prices make you wince. You don’t know how this man has it in him to drink, you’re tipsy enough just standing there. “You trying to impress me or something?” You say laughing, “Surely the room was pricey enough.”

He shrugs and gets to his feet. A black labelled bottle placed on the counter, he can’t decide what he wants to indulge in first because you are looking very tempting. You see a look of mischief pass over his face before he says, “Well, in for a penny, in for a pound… which you absolutely are, love.” He delivers that with the smarmiest smirk you’ve ever seen, and a disbelieving laugh escapes you, it’s needlessly full-on but embarrassingly it does work in making heat between your legs flicker back bright.

Still somewhat taken aback you just say, “...You’re shameless.”

It just makes him chuckle, as the evenings gone on you’ve only gotten easier to fluster. “Oh and you’re so prim and proper?” That’s clearly amused him because his tone is dripping with sarcasm. You maintain your eye contact with the man, trying to curb excitement in your blood, you’re aware he’s gotten much closer to you and the prospect is delicious. “I don’t think so, no with how you accosted me in that lift, there for anyone to see.”

He doesn’t need to add ‘And someone did see,’ because that grimy feeling has again caught up with you, you look away then, trying not to think about how disgusted that man looked earlier. It sucks because your usual level-headedness has shagged off and you seem to be making a lot of questionable decisions.

You’re speaking before the embarrassed thoughts are coherent, “Well, I- That’s not something I’d… normally…” You trail off because of the clear enjoyment on his face.

“Come on, are you a police officer or a fucking nun?” He teases, “Looking so ashamed. You do know what we’ve come up here to do, right?”

The mockery gives you a hit of bravery, and you shrug, “Yeah. I’m just waiting for you to stop talking.” You give the last words heavy exasperation and watch that achingly handsome grin slowly spread on his face.

He listens to you.

It’s criminal how eagerly you’re pulling at his clothes, struggling with buttons as dexterity is lost in your fingers to the way your body is reacting to his. There’s little elegance, only your tongue back in his mouth as your shirt is taken off, then your body pulled away from the wall behind you to let him unhook your bra. It’s quick but you still resent how long it’s taking to get what you want.

He’s playing with your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh before tugging your hardened nipple between his fingers, it pulls a gasp from you. You’re giggling a little as his action makes it harder to concentrate on what you’re doing. You finally manage to pull the shirt from him, leaving it to crumple on the floor. His body feels good against yours, firm and hot, hair on his chest that you rake your fingers through, leading all the way down to his belt.

His touch is everywhere on you except where you want it most, taking in your curves and again grabbing a handful of your behind. You’re restless, rubbing your legs together for a fraction of the friction your core is demanding, all this fleeting touch is mounting into impatience. William notices and you feel the movement of his hands up to your waistband, where they skirt teasingly around.

You moan some encouragement into his mouth, tilting your hips for better access. But he pulls away from you, smirking to himself. “Take your skirt off for me, love. I’ve tried but for the life of me I can’t find the zip.”

Despite your impatience, you can’t help but laugh, clearly pride had kept him silent for a fair while. “Here then.” You say through your amusement, placing a hand flat on his chest and pushing him lightly, guiding him a pace and a half back until he gets the hint to sit on the bed.

From there he watches you half dressed as far as your waist as you catch hold of the zip on the side of your pencil skirt and pull it down. You step out of it, leaving your shoes under the fabric, a smug expression on your face. He looks good sitting there and a guilty thought flickers through your head at how lucky his wife is.

That thought is cut short when he says, “Come here.” Not giving you much choice when he catches your wrist and manoeuvres you himself, your panties still on but the wet patch on them somehow more revealing than you imagine being fully nude will be.

“Damn.” He grins, leaving you standing before him, his hand tracing the waistband of your knickers before sliding between your legs. You let him, spreading your stance for his access. He follows the shape of your pussy over the material, watching how it clings to your heat. Soon after he slides under the fabric and toys with the abundance of slick waiting there.

You moan at the static sensation buzzing in your core, it’s exactly what you wanted but still a lot and you have to steady yourself on his shoulders. He finds your clit and begins to draw patterns over the nerves that soon have your legs weak. He brings your end into your sights before altering the movement, and the whiplash is near devastating. He snickers when a disapproving frown rests on your face, adjusting his position to press his fingers inside you, willing to give you what you want. Fucking his fingers in and out of you he keeps up with the stimulation on your clit, the pace only quickening when your grip tightens on his shoulders. Your peak rises fast and you fall over it, walls fluttering tight around his digits as your climax washes over you, pulling some desperate noise out of you.

Before your legs are even steady again, you’re desperate for more. So you push him back on the bed, bending down to tackle his belt buckle. The bulge in his trousers is practically taunting you and you’re eager to feel more and think less.

WIlliam’s voice pulls you from your inept action. “Demanding, aren’t we?” He mocks.

You look at him as levelly as you can, your pupils big from your fading pleasure. You know the answer before you speak, “Do you want me to stop?”

He doesn’t say anything, only reaches down to help you take off the belt, pulling the trousers down and holding you steady so he can lean and shove them off. You take hold of his hardness, now only hidden by his underwear, revelling in the soft grunt that leaves him. He’s deliciously thick in your hands and drunk on it you straddle him, now palming him between your legs. Only now do you think about the condoms in your handbag, knowing you should pull away from him and retrieve them. But that rationale is drowned out by your cunt drooling, begging for immediate stimulation.

Your touch isn’t enough for him, he just wants to feel your warmth wrapped snug around him, so he acts, flicking your hands aside to free his dick. He sits against your stomach, thick and long and almost instantly you’re sliding your slick along him, pussy twitching in anticipation.

His hand on your hip moves you back so he can line himself up with your hole, no more play, no more teasing. He guides you down, a small gasp leaving you as he presses inside. It’s more than you thought and your walls burn with the stretch of taking him; you still yourself for a moment, thighs hovering just above his whilst you try to get used to the fullness of accommodating him. Your respite is cut short when he starts to thrust up into you, sniggering at the surprised moan that escapes you and how your body is almost trying to run away from him. He holds you still, lost in the perfect way your cunt is swallowing him. Soon you’re taking him properly, riding him deep with stuttering breath, pathetic noises leaving you when his cock pressed against the spot inside you that makes you crumble. You’re so focused on your imminent pleasure sparking into life sharpish, you nearly miss the change in the man below you.

“Fuck- that’s it.” He groans, his hands roaming your body. You’re doing the majority of the work, bouncing on him so fucking perfectly and grinding your bundle of nerves against him. Your fluttering walls are telling but he’s hanging onto his edge by a thread, just enough sense about him to help speed up your climax.

You jolt when he suddenly begins rubbing your clit, his hand splayed on your abdomen. It’s a lot and you’re holding on to him tighter and tighter, fingernails digging harder and harder into his shoulders until you’re falling into the waves of bliss. Your back arches as you come, each pulse of your climax making you shiver. Your cunt squeezes around him tight and just like that he’s gone. He thrusts into you a few more times, pushing his release deep inside you, the pace inconsistent as he rides it out.

Both of you still, and you listen to his quickened breath as your pussy still flutters around him, you’re all over goosebumps but you hardly notice, too focused on the warmth trickling around him and settling between your legs.

You don’t stop there. You get next to no sleep, spending the rest of the night clutching the headboard, then with your face buried in the dishevelled sheets. Later with your leg hooked over the hips of this man, dirty words dripping from your lips pushing him to give you more. Hours spent having easily some of the best sex you’ve ever had. Until the two of you have no more to give.

It’s still dark, but a look at your watch tells you the day’s not far from arriving and so, you move. Taking yourself from the disordered bed and into the cool of the room. Your clothes are strewn all over and you begin to gather them one by one, aware you’re under the scrutiny of the man you’re leaving behind.

You’re halfway through putting them back on when William decides he should probably do the same. You watch from the corner of your eye as he stands up unashamedly naked and even after you’ve had your share you still appreciate the sight, which you then realise he was probably doing to you before getting up.

He moves to pick up his underwear, wincing through his teeth at the action, making you turn towards him with pinched brows. You see him raise his arm up and run his hand along his shoulders, his expression difficult to read.

“What’s wrong?” You ask with uncertainty, a part of you thinking that there’s no way he’s as sore as you are, you feel like you’ve spent hours on the bucking broncos.

“Wait-” He sounds confused but when he turns to walk over to a mirror on the wall your eyes go wide with understanding. You’ve left your mark on him alright: long scratches on his shoulders and back, each bringing back a memory of the night’s activity.

When he sees, his instant reaction is to laugh but fucking hell, it’s pretty bad. How the hell hadn’t he noticed?

You have a hand over your mouth, partially in shock, partially to hide the incredulous laughter begging to be shown. “Oh god, I’m sorry.” You say, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your giggling to yourself, “I didn’t-”

“That is…” He cuts you off unintentionally, chuckling in disbelief as he looks from the mirror to you, then back again, “unambiguous… What the fuck am I supposed to tell my wife?”

You snort. “I don’t know. Shit. I didn’t think I… did that.” You hadn’t even thought about it, about how all traces of you on this man are liable to destroy a marriage, though to be fair, you’re not often a homewrecker.

“Well, it was definitely you, sweetheart. Shit.” You’re lucky that he’s found this amusing and not gone the other way, but his marriage is dead on the rocks anyway, if Clara showed any interest in taking his shirt off he’d be looking around for a hidden camera.

…

You and William part ways soon after, part of you wanting to see him again, the rest knowing that that’s probably not a good idea. But the morning seems to be running away with itself and you don’t have time to think about it, it’s already nearly 7am and you've got to be at the station by 9.

That doesn’t stop you from reliving the night over and over during your commute though.

As good a time as you’ve had you can’t shake the feeling that it was perhaps too good to be true.

If you made it to the end, thank you sm, you guys reading my stuff is my motivation to keep being excessively horny x

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #william afton x you #fnaf william afton #fnaf movie #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you

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theresattrpgforthat · 1 year

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Hey! I've gotten super into solo rpgs but I tend to find combat boring. Are there fantasy themed rpgs with less focus on combat that you would recommend? (If they are soloable, that's also a win!)

THEME: Fantasy Solo Non-Combat.

Hello friend, thank you very much for your ask! I'm going to direct you to two Solo-themed game recommendations first, before I dive into today's recs.

Character-Focused Solo Games: Games that focus on character-building. Lighthearted Solo Games: Fun, non-serious solo games.

A Year in the Spirit World, by ToriBee.

The wind rustles through the emerald canopy above as you open your eyes to an unfamiliar world. You're lying on a bed of lush moss, the gentle warmth of the Spirit World sun caressing your face. Around you, a forest of towering ancient trees, each pulsating with an otherworldly glow. It's ethereal, enchanting, and unlike anything you've ever seen.

Drawing from a deck of fate, you'll encounter spirits, creatures, and natural phenomena as enchanting as they are daunting. Each encounter might test your spirit, challenge your harmony with this world, or tempt you to act against your values.

There is some combat in this game, but it certainly doesn’t seem to be the focus. The game is about survival, but you’re as likely to be navigating social situations as you are to be fighting enemies. What I like about this game is the spirit companion who will travel the world with you: there are four different options, each of them cute and enchanting. If you love Studio Ghibli films, you should definitely check out A Year in the Spirit World!

The Goblin Thought, by Kai Medina.

The goblin hoard - a pile of goods and trinkets - is a place of greed, yes. But it's the same greed that thrives throughout this land of men and beetles. It's the allowed selfishness that helps us learn and grow, walk and run, screech and scramble. The hoard is the goblin's memory.

The Goblin Thought is a unique and engaging journaling game that combines chance and narrative to create a compelling story. Players take on the role of a goblin, collecting memories and items in their hoard as they navigate through a world of wonder and danger, allowing for growth and change. With a deck of cards and a six-sided die, each turn presents new challenges and opportunities for creative storytelling, drawing, and reflection.

This game is placed in a fantasy setting, but with a larger purpose. It’s both a journaling game and a thought experiment, a chance to place yourself in the shoes of someone whose history exists within the hoard they have accumulated. Each card you draw from a deck has three prompts attached to it, so you have the potential to play this game (and build a history) for a very long time.

Little Shepherd, Little Spy, by @psychhound.

You try to keep out of the whole war business.

It’s just not really your thing. There are more important things to worry about, like Gethin, your biggest ram, getting stuck in the fence again, or Ffion rubbing against the raspberry bushes and getting her wool all sticky.

Life is pretty simple for a humble shepherd such as yourself.

Little Shepherd, Little Spy is a solo journaling game about being a spy in the fairy war. Choose which side you're on, then draw tarot cards to interpret the messages coming through the information ring. Your tarot card tells you what book to look at and what page. Then you copy down all the relevant information on that page and consult your spy codebook.

I absolutely love fairy games and the premise for this one is super interesting to me. Your character will be interpreting messages that take the form of books that you have on your shelf, and you’ll determine which book to look at (and which page to read) by drawing tarot cards from a deck. If you look into this one I definitely recommend setting aside some time, and perhaps selecting a few books for each category to have on hand, to ease the cycle of play.

The Wandering Library, by AP.

You are the proud owner of a Wandering Library. Whether you bought, built or inherited it, it is your home. Travelling as far and as wide as you desire, your days are spent encountering an assortment of customers, exploring new locations, and tending to your beloved home of books.

This is a a game designed to generate prompts for you to answer in as much or as little detail as you would like. All you need is two six-sided dice and your preferred method of journaling. Using the tables provided, you will explore locations and meet different people, recording your adventures and encounters as you travel in your Wandering Library.

This is a simple one-page game that presents you with a few starting questions, and the supplies a grid of prompts that you’ll roll 2d6 for. Each prompt is a new event, complete with a question, asking how your character reacts. There’s plenty of room for your own imagination. The house is a travelling library, which feels pretty fantastical to me! This game will likely last a few hours or so; it’s not really built for extended play.

Fetch My Blade, by Ethan Yen.

For years you have served your Master faithfully. A loyal companion, you accompanied your Master through the difficult times, and the good times. Now, you are called in a moment of dire need: a Stranger has challenged your Master to a duel, alluding to time before you. Your Master rises to the challenge, calling you forth. This is your moment. You have trained for this. It is time to do your Master proud.

FETCH MY BLADE is a solo journaling roleplaying game where you play as the dog of a retired legendary master of the sword, tasked with a quest of your own: retrieve your master’s fabled weapon in time for their final duel. On your quest, you will uncover and explore your Master’s guarded past-- transforming your character, deepening your relationship with your Master, and ultimately influencing your Master’s fate.

This is a lovely little game of exploring a dog’s relationship to their Master, and developing a backstory as you play. I don’t think there’s specifically a setting in place for this game, but the presence of swords certainly points towards the fantastical. There doesn’t seem to be any specific combat in the game, but violence is considered to have happened in the past, as the game provides a content warning regarding a war that has already happened.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #asks #fantasy

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deliciousangelfestival · 9 months

Text

Tears In His Ferrari || Chp 5 - B.Barnes

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, used to a life of luxury, takes on farm challenges in a bet with his father. Mud-stained Ferraris and a rustic farmhouse lead to unexpected personal growth, guided by the stern mentorship of Y/N, a farmer making his city-boy life difficult.

Theme: Fluff, Slice of Life, Heart-Warming.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on : Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 ,Chp 8 , Chp 9 , Chp 10 , Chp 11 , Chp 12.

Y/N explained with a matter-of-fact tone, "Sheep are excellent for fertilizing the soil, and you can also sell the lambs for additional profit."

Still processing the unexpected arrival of livestock, Bucky couldn't help but wonder why his father had sent him these animals.

Y/N continued, "Your father wants you to produce milk from the lamb and the cow, and gather eggs from the chickens." She handed a sealed letter to Bucky, her expression unreadable.

As Bucky broke the seal and unfolded the letter, his eyes scanned the contents. The shock on his face became evident as he murmured, "I'm sorry?" The weight of the responsibilities and financial obligations slowly sank in.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he read the words from his father. "You always spend too much money and never have any debts. With this, I want you to learn to generate profit and clear your debts. And most importantly, take good care of the livestock."

The realization hit him that this wasn't just a casual farm experience but a lesson in responsibility, financial management, and the art of farming. Bucky sighed, feeling the weight of the newfound duties with the animals on his farm.

Y/N chuckled, "Farm life isn't as easy as it looks, huh?"

Still recovering from the shock, Bucky smirked, "Yeah, well, at least I'm learning something new daily." He works on the fence for the sheep.

Bucky revved up the tractor with a newfound sense of triumph and rolled the electric fence around the plot. He felt like a farming genius, confident in his quick and efficient solution. “I’m a genius.”

However, when it came time to activate the electric fence, a minor technical glitch caused a sudden surge, giving Bucky a shock that jolted him back. He yelped out a mix of surprise and expletives, clutching the affected hand. "Ooucch!"

Bucky, recovering from the shock, managed a wry smile, "Well, that wasn't in the manual. Note to self: farming comes with a real 'shock' factor."

Y/N and Toby burst into laughter, finding the scene both comical and entertaining. Despite the shock, Bucky couldn't help but join in the laughter, realizing that his grand farming schemes might not always go as smoothly as planned.

Amid Bucky's electric fence escapade, he had forgotten that his phone was still rolling for the live stream. As he grappled with the electric shock, his audience witnessed the unexpected turn of events and erupted into laughter in the comments section.

Still wincing from the electric shock, Bucky composed himself and quipped, "Well, folks, farming just got electrifying. Who knew becoming a farmer would come with a live-action comedy show?"

The comment section of the livestream was flooded with laughing emojis and playful banter from the viewers. Bucky, though initially embarrassed, decided to play along.

Still nursing the lingering tingle from the electric shock, Bucky followed Y/N towards the barn. Seeing the sheep freely grazing on the green pasture brought a serene expression to Bucky's face. The bucolic scene seemed to momentarily erase the hustle and bustle of city life from his mind.

As they approached the barn, Y/N swung open the creaky door, revealing the content cows comfortably settled inside. Bucky's eyes widened, and a genuine smile played on his lips as he observed the calm demeanor of the livestock.

Y/N remarked, "They seem to be settling in well. Remember, the more comfortable they are, the better their produce."

Y/N observed Bucky's expression and could sense his struggle. She reassured him, "Don't worry, Bucky. Farming can be overwhelming at first, but the community here is supportive. Some locals will lend a hand until you get the hang of it."

Bucky, visibly relieved, responded, "That's really helpful. I appreciate the support."

Meanwhile, Toby diligently counts the sheep, showcasing his responsibility.

Curious about Toby's situation, Bucky turned to Y/N and inquired, "Do you know Toby's story?"

Y/N crossed her arms, her expression turning solemn. "He's a good kid with loving grandparents. Unfortunately, he has a shitty father who's always gambling, drunk, and getting them into debt."

Bucky's heart clenched at the stark contrast between Toby's struggles and his privileged life. He had never lacked money and never experienced the burden of debt.

Y/N continued, "His grandfather even had to sell their truck to survive. For a while, it was Toby who carried their honey produce to the nearby market."

The weight of the situation settled on Bucky, but Y/N's following words brought a glimmer of hope. "The neighbors soon found out about it and took turns helping Toby."

Relieved about the supportive community, Bucky nodded, "That's good. It's nice that people are looking out for each other."

Y/N sighed, "Don't worry too much about him, he'll make it through. Focus on your own challenges."

Feeling a mix of emotions, Bucky retorted with a half-smile, "Hey, I'm trying to handle my newfound farmer responsibilities, aren't I?"

Y/N approached Bucky, carrying a food container. She placed it in Bucky's hand, her expression stern. "Listen carefully to their instructions, and good luck." With those words, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Bucky with a determined yet somewhat irritated look.

Bucky clicked his tongue in response, muttering, "I'll show you." The challenge Y/N presented only fueled his determination to prove himself in the world of farming.

But he talked to soon when he listened intently as the locals provided instructions on caring for the sheep, cows, and chickens. The details overwhelmed him, from feeding schedules to health check-ups. Bucky felt like his head was going to explode with information.

Local Farmer 1: "Remember, the sheep love a good pasture rotation!"

Bucky nodded, trying to absorb the advice.

Local Farmer 2: "Cows need proper bedding in the barn to stay comfortable."

Bucky furrowed his brow, realizing there was more to it than he initially thought.

Local Farmer 3: "And for the chickens, a well-ventilated coop is key to prevent diseases."

Bucky sighed, feeling the weight of his newfound responsibilities. The intricate details of farm life unfolded before him, and he could only nod in response.

Once the locals left, Bucky collapsed on the floor, utterly exhausted. "Hufft… farming is no joke."

******

Exhausted and drained, Bucky realized that his previous ignorance about farming had blinded him to the labor and dedication farmers put into their work.

His newfound appreciation for the entire process, from planting seeds to harvesting crops, made him reflect on the hard work and sacrifices of farmers everywhere.

“Woof.” Sensing his owner's fatigue, Archie appeared and offered canine comfort by enthusiastically licking Bucky's face. Feeling ticklish, Bucky giggled and hugged his little friend, "Hey, buddy," grateful for the simple joy Archie brought into his hectic day.

As if on cue, a 'PING' echoed from his phone. Bucky's eyes widened as he checked his email for a sponsorship offer. A brand had stumbled upon Bucky's farming videos and believed he would be an excellent fit for their product.

Subject: Exclusive Sponsorship Offer for Your Farming Journey!

Hi Bucky,

Hope you're doing great! We've been following your inspiring farming videos and love your genuine approach. We at SolarGuard are impressed by your dedication to farming.

We'd like to offer you a sponsorship opportunity. SolarGuard is a leading brand in skincare, and we believe our sunscreen is a perfect match for your outdoor work, providing optimal protection under the sun.

If you're interested, reply to this email, and we can discuss the details of this exciting collaboration. Looking forward to the possibility of working together!

Best, The SolarGuard Team

Ecstatic reading the e-mail, Bucky exclaimed, "Yes!!! My first money." This unexpected sponsorship was his first step to prove his worth to his father and demonstrate his ability to be independent.

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 ,-

Author Note:

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

Join the taglist? 🩷💙🩷

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Hey everyone! 🌟 Your input means the world to me.

If you've got any cool ideas or prompts, whether for this fluff series or any other series, feel free to share them with me!

Just drop them in my ASK/SEND REQUEST box.

Can't wait to hear your awesome suggestions! 🚀💬

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #buckybarnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian x y/n #sebastian stan characters

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misssmeat · 2 years

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30 Things I Learned Before Turning 30

In celebration of my next decade, I took some time to document some of the obvious and not-so-obvious pieces of wisdom I've collected in my life. I wrote this as an exercise to celebrate my own growth, but I thought I would share it.

I spent over half of my 20s with all of you, here on tumblr. It was a messy decade spent figuring out who I am, what I want, and how to create the life I dream of. I'm ending my 20s happier, more sure of myself, and excited for the future. Thanks for joining me on the journey.

Here's to the next decade of being older. Wiser. Sexier. Here's to 30.

Love and Relationships

Give it three dates if you’re on the fence about someone. Love at first sight (or first date) is rare.

If he’s significantly older and makes you feel special for being “mature for your age”… there is something very wrong. He’s gross, and I promise you’ll see it one day and be furious for your past self.

Co-dependency is not love.

Your partner is not your therapist. Do not treat them as such.

Holding hands is a superior form of intimacy.

Sometimes love isn’t enough.

As annoying and cliche as it is, self-love is the most important love you’ll discover.

Be intentional in your relationships - intentionally make time, intentionally show care, intentionally respect your partner, intentionally adore. (This applies to friendships too.)

Strong relationships are built on strong foundations. Communication, trust, kindness.

Life is made of millions of tiny moments. The tiny moments make the difference more than the grand gestures.

Sex and Kink

Sex is supposed to be fun. Too many people forget this. It’s adult playtime. Don’t take yourself too seriously.

Your limits are sacred. Never let anyone convince you otherwise.

There is no such thing as a “true” sub/Dom/etc. Do what makes you happy. It’s really that simple.

Confidence is 75% of success in the bedroom. I never truly know what I’m doing, but if I act like I’m the hottest girl on earth… my partner goes nuts for me regardless.

Keep water near at all times.

Bondage is much more physically taxing than you might imagine. A rope buddy taught me to keep chocolate near for the sugar boost after physically taxing positions.

Sometimes things get messy. Don’t worry, it’s normal.

Give feedback and be open to feedback. We are all different, so there should be a learning curve with each partner.

Butt stuff hurts a lot less if you train your muscles slowly over time.

If you’re not in the mood, don’t feel pressure to force it. Respect what your body is telling you. Likewise, respect your partner if they aren’t in the mood.

Everything Else

Ladies - unlearn creating yourself for the male gaze. It’s overrated.

Western cooking isn’t always superior. See the fried egg in France vs. Hong Kong. I’ll die on this hill.

Your worth and value are not tied to anything you’re offering or producing. Existing is the most radical thing we can do.

Find a hobby that doesn’t require the internet. I found painting and reading.

Your energy is valuable. Be selective in where and how you invest it.

When washing your hair, go through your shampoo routine twice before conditioning.

Go on walks. Touch grass. Feel the sun on your skin.

When in doubt, adopt a cat.

Go to therapy. No matter where you are on your mental health journey, therapy will probably be a game changer.

Do not underestimate the power of forgiveness. Holding onto anger is not as empowering as I once believed it was.

And one last bonus thought: no matter what, always make space for joy.

❤️.

#my writing #thoughts #not to toot my own horn #but I think some of these are pretty solid!!!

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darkmasterofcupcakes · 6 months

Note

The Sera headcanon for Charlie's "gay/bi awakening" were because of her being among the "tall mommy" type of characters alongside Lilith and Carmilla.

Headcanon time (CWF Human AU) :

Fencing and martial arts are both thing very loved in the community, honor duels being a thing for many both lower and upper classes, which they monetize by having these duels happens in sports events and other things, they also try to keep it without deadly weapons.

Music and arts in general are loved in the town, and bring a lot of cash, though there's a lot of tensions between the parts of the population.

Lucia (Lute's original name) is the daughter of Agatha, who was a fierce supporter of the catholic angle of the opposition to the "communist scums" in the cold war with family in the military in Francoist Spain (since in CWF she likely would have been more affiliated with Spain), though Lucia learned Spanish dialects outside of the Castillan one thanks to Agatha's friends and their children in America, as these friends of Agatha came from the various Spanish-speaking American nations.

Lucia learned to take a chill pill from hanging out with Adam and her army-buddies during her military service.

Adam is kind of the town's golden boy, excellent military service, musically gifted and doing rock concerts but also more "prim and proper" gigs, referring to the angel side, which allowed a lot of the youth to enjoy rock since Adam wasn't seen as a thug.

On a personal level however, his life is a mess.

Lute got her nickname from Adam, who gave it due to her proficiency with the guitar while mocking her more old-fashioned background and attitude.

Lute hate Lucifer because he and his sins are low-key oligarchs of the town, doing stuff from "weird but not really harmful" to "the only reason why you're not in prison is that I can't find proofs".When it was discovered that Lute was pregnant, Agatha kicked her out, and Adam gave her shelter for a few weeks whole convincing Sera, who had a much more spacious residence, to take her in.

Sera, who secretly was pregnant with Emily, took pity and took Lute in, but Lute, who refused to be "some charity case", became kind of her secretary.

Lute hate Lilith, beside because of bias from Adam and jealousy of appearance, because it was during a meeting with the Morningstars then she gave birth to Vaggie, and Lilith and Sera helped with the birth since there was no time to call a doctor.

Lute hated feeling so vulnerable before Lilith of all people.

Adam here help out Lute monetarily, officially because Lute lacking monetary issues mean they can hang out more, unofficially, it's that+wanting to help for with Vaggie.

Adam is the music teacher, specifically guitar.

Despite knowing Adam is her granddaughter's father, because he and Eve were still technically married, Agatha see Lute as a home-wrecking slut

Despite being on the bad side of the town, Lucifer still held his classist beliefs, hence why he sent Charlie to Sera's Academy.

Charlie befriended Emily when they were 6, and properly met Vaggie when they were 14, once Charlie had her growth spurt, which coincided with when she started drifting away a bit from Lute, they were still tight, but Vaggie was softer and also more flexible ideologically, compared to the very much right-wing Lute who, beside her love of hanging out with her friends and relationship with Adam, was still mostly Agatha's precious daughter mentally.

Lute discovered Vaggie was gay due to seeing Vaggie and Emily kissing when the two girls were 14, since they wanted to know what it felt like and were the only ones with whom the other girl could feel comfortable enough trying to discover without breaking the friendship if they didn't had feelings, they're not close friends, but they have known each other too long not to be comfortable.

Lute is as straight as an arrow, but she have many gay and bi friends, and she didn't want to alienate her daughter, so she was supportive, that support on the matter being key to why Vaggie didn't stopped liking the more physical/combat things and didn't actively tried to distance herself from her mother.

I think Adam and Vaggie are quite awkward with each other here.

What's Sera and Emily's relationship like?

Beside Adam, Lucifer, Lute and Lilith (unless Lucifer doesn't tell her because it's too private), who know that Emily is actually Sera's daughter?

Okay, this is a lot to go over, so it's probably going to take me a while to fully respond to this...I'm also not going in order, just commenting on things as my brain decides to focus on them.

Lucia as Lute's birth name is honestly a really good pick, though I do imagine she was often called "Lucy" when she was young, something she dropped as an adult...which ended up helping a lot with avoiding confusion when she started having to associate with Lucifer, who's nickname was "Luci".

They do call an ambulance when Lute is giving birth to Vaggie, just because they do know that both Lute and the baby will need to be looked over by an actual doctor - especially with Vaggie still being born a few weeks early here - but because Lute's labor progresses very fast for a first pregnancy/delivery, and the nearest hospital is a fair distance away....Lilith and Sera know they've got to actually deliver the baby. With Lute remaining stubborn and refusing to fully accept she was in labor despite all the clear signs, insisting that there was no way the baby was coming now - she's still got six weeks left and she's done everything right, so she shouldn't be in labor already. It's not until the baby starts crowning, and particularly when Lilith using a compact mirror to basically make Lute have to see that, yes, she is having her baby right now, that she accepts what's happening and stops trying to fight against it.

Lute is both thankful for Sera giving her a place to stay, but also frustrated at needing the help. She insists she’s only staying until she has the baby and has saved up enough for an apartment for the two of them. But that takes some time, even with Adam sending her money to help. Partly because Lute hates accepting the money from Adam (or anyone) since she doesn’t like to feel like she’s a “charity case”. So she and Vaggie live with Sera and Emily until Vaggie’s just over two years old.

Congratulations, Agatha - you basically share the opinion of a seven year old. Though Cain doesn't think of Lute as a slut...at least when he's that young. But he does blame her (and Vaggie) for his parents splitting up, since he knew the basics of where babies came from when he met Lute during the time she lived with Adam after her mother kicked her out and cut her off; and when he found out Lute being there meant he was getting a new brother or sister...he basically just went like, "Okay, so this lady's having a baby with my dad, and that's why him and my mom don't live together anymore." As you can probably guess, he wasn't thrilled about Lute living in his dad's place, even if it was just temporary.

Adam and Vaggie's relationship is definitely a bit awkward here, since in this version of events, he does want to be more involved in her life from an earlier age (or at least be able to be open about the fact that he's her father) but Lute, partially because she did somewhat internalize some of the insults her mother threw at her when she found out she was pregnant, refuses to let him do either, not wanting to risk feeling judged and thought of as a slut who slept with and got knocked up by her friend pretty much as soon as he wasn't living with his wife anymore. His wife who had given birth to his sons, the eldest of whom was only about six and the youngest wasn't even a year old, so she also had the issue of feeling like she'd be judged for "taking the boys' father from them." But Adam does still spend time with Vaggie occasionally, usually when Lute had something she needed to do and wasn't able to find anyone else to watch Vaggie for a few hours.

Vaggie does eventually learn Adam is her father....thanks to a drunk Cain blurting it out during his 21st birthday party, which Vaggie was invited to due in part to the fact that Abel and Seth were allowed to each invite one of their own friends, and Seth chose Vaggie, since the two of them were actually friends. Even if they mostly just talked via texts and video chat once Vaggie started going to the academy.

Bonus: Lute teaching at the academy was a big part of why Vaggie was able to attend - children of the staff get free tuition, though they do still have to pay for things like uniforms. The promise that her daughter would be able to attend the school, which was considered pretty prestigious, is what convinced Lute to take the job when Sera offered it to her, despite initially refusing because taking a job offered by her "friend" felt too much like charity for her liking.

Sera and Emily have a pretty good relationship for Emily's childhood....but there starts to be some tension as Emily starts getting into her teenage years. Mostly because she starts to question how honest her "sister's" been with her for her whole life, particularly because Sera refuses to let her see any pictures of their parents, or really answer any of her questions about what they were like before they died. And Emily isn't stupid by any means, so all of that felt weird to her. And the feeling that Sera was keeping something from her caused Emily to start becoming more distant from her...while she tried figuring out the answers for herself.

A few other members of the staff at the Academy know Emily is actually Sera's daughter, but they swore to keep it secret. Outside of them, nobody knows the truth besides those you listed...and obviously the doctors who delivered Emily, and technically the people who filed her birth certificate.

#Hazbin Hotel #Cradle Will Fall #Vaggie is a Guitarspear Baby AU #Human AU

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caliburn-the-sword · 4 months

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Honest thoughts on Lonnie(and family) in descendants?

Thanks for the ask, anon!! I love getting these

I am half Chinese and Mulan was my favourite disney princess and I barely had any Asian rep as a kid so I LOVED Lonnie in the second movie

However the first?? Yikes. I was not the most popular kid back when the first movie came out and she (among Audrey and the other girls) reminded me too much of my bullies for me to permit myself to fully enjoy her back then, but she quickly jumped to being equal favourites with a handful of the VKs once the second movie came out

However, my judgement as a child was not as nuanced as it is now. Lonnie, like the other royal kids, had preconceived notions and prejudice towards the VKs. She was complicit in the harassment they faced, and was only friendly to them when she was getting something out of it.

However there WAS a self awareness to her actions. She knew that Mal would never spell her hair without incentive. Even though at that point we hadn’t seen her be mean or unwelcoming to Mal, we can infer from the payment and the line “I know you hate us” she had probably not been the most friendly or nice towards them before she asked for that favour. Someone that’s GENUINELY mean would deflect the blame or think that the hatred they’re showing for the other group is deserved, but Lonnie knew that her behaviour wasn’t acceptable

We know from the second movie that she or her mum are not people that really fit in. They’re not like the other heroines, they fight and they go places even if they’re not wanted. So it is likely that Lonnie feared social ostracism, and her solution to that was to blend in with the crowd, and let herself be peer pressured into doing what the other girls do, even if hey, that actually involves vilifying others, because that at least means she’s safe from social persecution

And this a clear trait that she had to overcome in between the first and second movies that I WISH we got to see her overcome. Because she jumped on the train of getting a magic hairdo right after Jane did, despite not ever displaying any signs of self consciousness. She sensed the crowd going in one direction, and she wanted to hop on that trend so she could fit in. Which was also the exact thing she did towards the end of the movie when they all started hating on the VKs again

But by the time the second movie comes around, she realises that hey, these guys were ostracised and managed to turn people’s view around, and so can I. And she develops confidence and the stubbornness and a fearlessness that drove her in the second movie to stop being so afraid of what other people think and to DO what she wanted to do and act how she wanted to act instead of taking the safe option to avoid social rejection (a valid fear, seeing how Chad treated her)

And the best part is is that when she needed it the most, Jay showed her solidarity and supported her joining the fencing team. I think that between the first and second movies, she went above and beyond what the other royals did and made a proper, heartfelt apology for her treatment of the VKs because Jay’s willingness to fight for her when she didn’t for them I think would’ve been helped for that

All in all, I think that there was a depth to Lonnie that a lot of people miss out on. She was a physically strong character, yes, but had to learn emotional and mental strength. She went through significant character development and growth throughout the movies, and SHE was one of the most empowering Asian role models for me, being someone that was afraid yet CHOSE to be brave and put herself out there

#i also wish she could’ve been in the third movie #answering asks #anon ask #lonnie descendants #lonnie hua #jay descendants #mal descendants

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lis4ux · 4 months

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One great thing about OBX is the complex characters. Each character has flaws. The “good guys” have shortcomings and the “villains” are not just one dimensional, they have layers that get the audience thinking. You do a great job of showing that in your writing! What do you think are jiaras flaws? Or moments or decisions you were like 😬

Wow such a great question! I truly believe that people in general are more than one thing and have so many sides to them and showing that in my writing is so important to me. I’m happy you feel I do that 🥰

When I think of Jiara I immediately separate JJ and Kiara first cause they’re two people. I think that JJs flaws are how he is really quick to make decisions that make things fair or to get even. He encouraged pope to sink toppers boat and stole from Barry and then Kiara’s dad. At the same time that makes him human and I completely understand why he did it. Nonetheless, those are poor decisions and rather impulsive ones that didn’t benefit anyone overall.

Kiara’s flaw is harder to pin point honestly. She doesn’t make openly bad decisions the way JJ does and honestly with him she is incredibly patient and persistent. I think her flaw is her need to let people know she’s right. Like, screaming murder at Ward cost them the tape overall and then she spray painted his fence and yelled at him outside the court house. Again, I get why she did it and don’t blame her, but in some of those instances there were consequences.

I don’t believe we’ve seen them together enough to know what their flaws as a couple will be. I imagine that some areas of growth for them will be Kiara pushing JJ to grow up and make smarter choices(like she did when she put her hand on his shoulder as they circled the group with machetes). Flip side I also wonder if we will see Kiara self sacrificing the same way JJ does. She has a strong personality that is always wanting to help. I can see her doing something and leaving JJ out of the loop and that causing natural tension.

Can’t wait to see season four and what they have planned for Jiara 😆

Thank you so much for the question it was so fun to think about 🥰❤️🙌

#ask and answer #anon ask #jiara #jiara fanfic #jj maybank #kiara carrera #jiara outer banks #jiara obx #jj x kiara #jiaraedit

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not-a-space-alien · 6 months

Text

Tinytopia Chapter 8: Endless Rebirth (Part 4)

Story Masterpost

On AO3

Thanks to my beta/sensitivity reader @appelsiinilight!

In this chapter: Thistle forces Moon into the horrors of personal growth.

***

“So how's it going?” Sierra's voice came from the tinny phone speaker.

Thistle groaned and rolled on the floor.

“That good, huh?”

“I feel like shit.” Thistle put his hands to his face. “Moon left the house, and he knows how to not be found when he doesn’t want to be. So I can’t even chase after him to make up.”

Marcy, whose job had recently become mainly Sit nearby whatever Thistle is doing, was at the desk. She tapped him with her foot. “I’m sure he’ll come back.”

“He can’t stand that I’m paying more attention to someone else,” Thistle said. “I’ve never had to deal with this before.”

“Well, it’s not like there’s anything you can really do about it,” Sierra said. “It’s a, like…him problem. Right?”

As much as Thistle loved Sierra, she wasn’t always good at giving advice. He sighed. “Yeah, maybe. It’s just–there’s been so much going on, with Marigold, and Jax is–He’s so interesting, but I don’t know if I should–if he’s–and now Moon is mad at me, and the stupid dryad still won’t even come out!”

“And prom is tomorrow!” Sierra added.

“What?”

“It’s–nevermind, stupid joke.”

He sighed again. “I told Jax we could talk about more pixie stuff later. I think his first body is still in the walls with Violet.”

“Well, you should get Marcy to help,” Sierra said. “Isn’t that what you were trying to do? Have Marcy’s job be to manage everything at home? That could include settling conflicts.”

“Oh, ah…” Marcy said.

“Come on, you’re super smart, I bet you’d be great at it!”

Marcy tapped her fingers. “I could…try, I guess. But I don’t know where Moon is, either. Maybe we should just wait for him to come to us in his own time. Pushing probably won’t make it any better.” Right?

***

Marcy took Thistle around to look for Moon in and outside of the house. It felt a lot safer now that they had the chain link fence up, but they didn’t find him.

They didn’t find him until he wanted to be found, which was later that day. Thistle heard him shouting from the window by Colin’s desk.

Marcy took Thistle and rushed up there. Moon’s magic wardrobe was set out on the roof adjacent to the window, along with a little stool, as though he’d been using the roof as a place to get dressed. Borrower-Jax was on the desk, and Moon was dragging him by an iron grip on his wrist. Moon was uncharacteristically frumpled and steaming mad.

“What are you doing!” Thistle jumped down onto the desk and pulled Jax out of Moon’s grip. Jax cowered, looking chastised.

“I caught that ruffian going through my things!” Moon said hotly. “I-I, you know, I set up my wardrobe to, well, for my apology–I was going to apologize to you, so I was just in the process of making myself beautiful for that. And I turn my back for one second and this–this–this–hooligan helps himself to my hairbrush!”

“I wasn’t going to steal it,” Jax insisted. “Honest, I wasn’t. I’m sorry. Please don’t yell at me. I was just touching it.”

“I don’t care if you weren’t going to steal it! Don’t touch my things!”

“All right,” Marcy said. She held her hands out placatingly–but she knew better than to touch Moon when he was upset. “Just calm down. We can talk about it.” Despite Sierra’s confidence in her, Marcy figured that was… probably the full extent of how she could actually help, otherwise being relegated to watching and hoping she didn’t have to grab anyone.

“Moon!” Thistle said, flabbergasted. “You’re mad at Jax for touching your hairbrush? Not even stealing it, but touching it?”

“He had no right!”

Thistle sat Jax down behind him, then crossed his arms. “Moon. Stop acting like this.”

“Acting jealous?” he sneered.

“Yes!”

“Tell Jax not to touch my things!”

“Moon, I will, but–Look, it was just a hairbrush! It’s not a big deal! Stop being a drama queen!”

Moon burst into tears and fluttered away. Thistle’s heart sunk into his stomach. This was bad. His friendship with Moon was getting worse, and he had no idea how to fix it.

Marcy watched Moon fly out the window and dive out of sight, not even bothering to pack up his wardrobe. She felt horrible about how this was going, and cradled Thistle and Jax in her palms.

Thistle sighed and turned around, helping Jax back up. “I’m sorry he yelled at you. He shouldn’t have.”

“I’m sorry I touched his hairbrush,” Jax said. “I won’t do it again.”

“I don’t even see why it’s a big deal,” Thistle said. “It’s not like you were going to do anything with a hairbrush.”

Jax bit his lip and looked away. “Uh. Yeah.”

Thistle stared at him. “Unless… Jax… is there a reason why it would be a big deal?”

Jax’s ears pinned back to his head. “Um… I…”

“Jax?!”

“I just wanted some of his hair!” Jax burst out. “I wanted to make a third body and have it be like his! It would have just been a few hairs! He wouldn’t have even noticed if he hadn’t spotted me! I want to sit in the moonlight and make magic, too!”

Thistle stared at him.

Jax scuffed his foot. “Sorry.”

“His hair?” Marcy echoed. “For wh….Oh. Ooooh. For his DNA? Right?”

Thistle turned from Marcy to Jax. “Jax…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Is that what you meant by copying me? Did you clone me? Did you take some of my hair when I wasn’t looking?”

Jax’s face went bright red. “I’m sorry.”

Thistle let out a deep breath. “Jax, you understand that cloning someone without their permission is a lot less of not a big deal than just touching someone’s hairbrush? Right?”

Jax bit his lip.

“Right?!”

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal! It’s not like it affects either of you at all!”

“Jax!” Thistle chastised. “You can’t just steal someone’s hair and use it to clone them without asking and expect them to not be upset!”

“But you were happy to see me incarnated as a pixie! It’s not like it’s a bad thing–right?”

Right. They were dealing not only with a completely alien creature, with completely different ideas of morality–but a baby one at that, who still had to be taught how to interact with other people.

Thistle massaged his temples. “This is–where to even begin. This is a lot.”

“Go find Moon,” Marcy said, scooting Jax into her palm. “I’ll stay here and try to explain this to Jax.”

Jax looked up at him through his eyebrows. “Are you mad at me?”

“I’m–Maybe. I don’t know. Just… just stay here with Marcy for now, okay?”

***

He found Moon under a bush in the front yard, sitting with his knees to his chest, crying into his arms.

Thistle could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Moon cry. “Hey,” he said softly, ducking under the branches, bare feet padding in the dirt.

Moon looked up, then away, ashamed. He sniffled and wiped his face. “I don’t want you to see me like this. I’m too proud.”

“Well, that’s too bad. I’ve already seen you, Mr. Pride.” Thistle sat down next to him. “Hey… I think we both know this isn’t actually about the hairbrush. Do you want to talk about it? I’ll listen this time, instead of brushing you off.”

Moon kneaded his handkerchief. His eyes were puffy–but he still managed to cry beautifully. “It isn’t fair,” he whined. “It’s not fair that he gets to be so carefree and make friends like it’s second nature! I’ve been working so, so hard to–to… I don’t know. Be more genuine. Be a friend, instead of hiding behind lies. But it’s so hard. And then this guy comes along.” He gestures to the house. “And he’s just, apparently he’s just a better version of me.”

“Moon,” Thistle said sadly. “No, come on. Jax isn’t a better version of you. That’s–it’s just not true.”

Moon sniffed loudly. “That’s not–I mean, just look at him. He can do everything I can do and then some. He’s young and impressionable, enthusiastic and open and wholesome and energetic. I’m none of those things. He’s just more interesting than I am, now. What am I going to do if you get bored of me?”

“I’m not going to get bored of you. I’m sorry if I ever did anything to make you feel that way. It wasn’t on purpose. You’re great, Moon. I like having you around.”

Moon gave a pained smile, looking at the ground and gently bumping Thistle with his shoulder. “Probably a lot more when I’m not throwing little piss-fits, I imagine.”

Thistle giggled and bumped him back. “A little, yeah. I’m sorry, Moon. Even if it didn’t seem like a big deal to me, it was obviously a big deal to you, and I should have seen that.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect, darling. Except me of course.” Moon wiped his eyes, smearing his eye makeup even further. “I guess I felt… territorial, because I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing here if I’m not your favorite.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve just…spent so long pretending to be whatever someone else likes best that I don’t really know who I am when I’m just by myself. And I had the worst introduction out of everyone here, so I guess I feel… like I have to prove that it’s worth letting me hang around.”

Thistle snickered. “I don’t know about the worst introduction. Severa tried to kill me.”

“Well…”

“Jewel hid for months and months and then had to be picked up out of the dust.”

“...Point taken.” Moon groaned. “Oh no, I’ve just done introspection. The depths you force me to.”

Thistle smiled, took Moon’s hands, and pulled him up. “But look, it didn’t kill you. And I bet you feel better now.”

“I do sometimes forget things can get better instead of worse.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Thistle flickered his wings. “We found out something about Jax, too. Are you ready to go back and talk about what happened with them?”

“Only if you come with me.”

“Always.”

***

Marcy, meanwhile, had been prying Jax with questions to learn more.

Apparently Jax’s species picked up detritus leftover from other species to copy them–absorbing their DNA and, as far as she could tell based on his wording–residual magic that granted the hivemind access to some of the creature’s knowledge. Which would explain how Jax had received a shotgun blast of information to learn a language and some basic details without even meeting a borrower.

She couldn’t figure out what sort of larval form he’d had, if any, that could have picked up some borrower hair to get him started. He didn’t remember, of course, so maybe they’d never know.

It was incredibly difficult to pull her train of thought back on track to try and explain to Jax why being cloned would upset someone. He obviously had no instinctual feeling of it being wrong or creepy, but in the end he seemed to accept Marcy’s explanation that it would make others feel bad, and he agreed that he didn’t want to make others feel bad.

“So from now on, no cloning anyone else without permission, okay?”

“Okay,” Jax said, scuffing his foot. “I’m sorry. I’ll ask next time.”

Thistle and Moon made their way back upstairs.

“Thistle,” Jax called nervously. “Um, since I cloned you without permission, is it OK if I keep the pixie body, or do you want me to, um…”

Thistle stopped in his tracks. “Um. I don’t want you to kill my clone, if that’s what you’re asking.” His clone would be sort of like family, wouldn’t it? Either way, the thought of it dying upset him.

“Are you sure?” Jax offered. “It wouldn’t be hard. I could just-”

“I’m sure,” Thistle said quickly. “Just–just don’t do it again, okay?”

Jax nodded. “I will. Won’t. Thank you. Sorry.”

Moon flew himself and Thistle back up onto the desk. “You know, if you wanted to clone me, I might have let you if you’d just asked." Moon tossed his hair. "Who wouldn’t want to copy me?”

Jax swished his tail.

“...You can’t now, though. You need to prove you’re trustworthy. All you did by your approach was make me think you were up to something nefarious and get me all suspicious.”

“Sorry,” Jax said. “I’m still learning.”

Moon smiled gently. “I suppose I am, too. I’m sorry for getting upset with you. You’re very special, and I was afraid that would make people think me less special. But it doesn’t have to be a competition.”

Jax beamed and clung to Moon’s arm.

“All right, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Moon shook him off.

When they were done with their conversation, Thistle beckoned them to come into the living room. Among the lineup with Thistle’s house and Severa’s, there were two new small wooden houses, blank and ready to be painted.

“So, Jax, you’re going to need a big place to sleep if you’re going to have, er… multiple people sleeping. And Moon. Well, you never got a house.”

“You offered, if you recall. I’d said no.” He looked chagrin.

“Well, tough.” Thistle held out one of his very small paintbrushes. “Give it a try. If you don’t like it when we’re finished, you don’t have to keep it. But I bet having a place to call your own, physically here in the house, will make you feel a lot less insecure about your place here.”

Moon looked from Thistle’s house, to Severa’s beside it, to the hole in the wall beyond that Thistle had decorated for the borrowers with a small welcome mat, to Jewel in the fishtank above.

“And who knows? Maybe if you stop pretending you’re too cool to do the arts and crafts with us, you’ll find something you like that isn’t just Being Thistle’s favorite.”

Moon’s wings wilted.

“Come on, Moon. I like you, and I like having you around. But I want you to be happy outside of me, too. I don’t want your self-worth to depend entirely on my opinion of you. I don’t want you to get hurt like that.”

Moon thought for a moment, then smiled again. “Well, when you put it that way… All right. I’ll give it a try. Give me the brush.”

***

@static-stars

@cloudwatchingtoday @theepiccreatorofmagic-blog-blog @waitisthatgt @itssmoltime @ratcatcher0325 @crazytinygirl @bittykimmy13 @whumpsday @theroyaleemily @kitn-underfoot

@tinyguy42069

@jewel-fan-wys

@cheeseybeans8

@whumpshaped

@lucentbliss

@alilbitlesbian

@aceouttatime

@alarcomet

@becca-but-bitty

@tiny--pineapple

@bittykimmy13

@whumpsday

@kitn-underfoot

@gt-brainrot

@silent-orchid-lady

@starfields08000

@predacon-skydrift

@vidawhump

@whumpdreamz

@honeycollectswhump

@imber-rose

#g/t #gt #gianttiny #fairy #giant/tiny #size difference

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bicheetopuff · 2 years

Note

Hi! I just read your reply to mhatheoriesbrainrot's ask about Bakugo and staying true to manga. I'm an anime only and am curious about what you meant regarding Bakugo's character development. I'm still on the fence if should I read MHA's manga or just stick to anime.

I'm placing my whole trust into you. So if you think that it's more worth it for me to read the manga myself then I accept your opinion and thank you for your time. But if you think that it's not worth it to read the whole manga just because of this (not mentioning that anime hasn't covered all of the published manga) then I'll be glad if you could explain how anime "messed up" Bakugo's character development. Thank you so much in advance ❤️

I’m glad you trust me! However this response will kinda be based around my own experience with the manga and anime. Personally, I think reading the manga was just an overall more enjoyable experience and I highly recommend it but I’ll still explain myself.

I’ll start off by saying I’ve only been into mha since the end of last year. There’s a lot of things I didn’t get to see “live” so to speak and I didn’t get to feel frustration or malice towards the studio when they did weird things in other seasons or movies so I was kinda late to the party but I’ll still voice my opinion on everything despite that.

The first three seasons of the anime are great. There’s a few parts here and there where Bakugous characterization specifically is kinda wonky but I think that’s mainly the result of the anime studio putting on kid gloves. To be more specific and to answer part of your question, I’ll elaborate.

During the Quirk Apprehension Test after him and Deku race

(This screenshot is recycled so excuse the highlighted part)

In this scene he thinks to himself about how he uses his quirk and actually shows curiosity about Deku. Kinda keeping a close eye since he’s still not sure how he made into UA at this point. There’s not really malice coming from Katsuki here.

However in the anime, this scene he says out loud “my quirk has more uses than anyone else” making him seem a lot more arrogant than he was. At this point in the story, it was only a few chapters in so yea he was arrogant and cocky but that part of his character has never been a constant. In the anime it’s a constant.

Another scene would be from the sports fest arc right before him and todoroki fight. He goes into the wrong waiting room and kicks the table in front of todoroki out of frustration but, in his own way he reiterates what Deku told Todoroki in their fight (it’s your quirk not his; don’t fight with half of your power; don’t quote me on these, I’m going off memory lol) but in my opinion the anime made this scene seem more like an angry and comedic gag instead of a reaction stemmed from Katsukis frustration with Dekus growth. It’s one of the few times we see Katsuki attempt to mimic Deku to get what he wants and failing and the anime doesn’t make that part very clear.

This one isn’t really a scene but Katsuki is not a casual touch kind of guy and doesn’t just let people touch him. But the anime kinda forced Kirishima onto him where he’s constantly touching him casually? This isn’t like a bias thing cuz it also happens in season 5 with Deku. In the manga when they’re all in the car with endeavor and he complains about having to be so close to Deku and leans really close to the door. The anime changed that and actually made Katsuki lean more onto Deku.

And then there’s the final exam arc where him and Deku have to fight All Might and a lot of his dialogue just gets… cut out. Also after their match Deku sticks around with Recovery Girl to watch what’s left of the other matches (this arc was formatted differently from manga to anime. Instead of each team taking turns, every test was happening at the same time and Deku didn’t watch a majority of them. I think the anime mainly added that format so Deku could see Uraraka freak out about Aoyama accusing her of liking Deku).

It really doesn’t get irritating until after the end of season 3 with Deku vs Kacchan 2. I have no complaints about DvK2, I actually really like the animated fight, it’s mainly how the anime studio deals with Katsukis character after DvK2. He doesn’t have anger outbursts anymore and he actually becomes almost playful with Deku. He worries about his well being and he helps him train with no complaints (more like aggressive criticism) but in the anime they kinda made it so training with Deku was more of a burden for Katsuki in season 5. Him acting annoyed and bored in the one scene we see them training together but in the manga… it’s not that different but the manga kept the playfulness there.

There’s a particular part in season 5 that’s a lot more obvious than the other things I talked about and that’s match 4 of the class A v class B exercise. Manga to anime contradicts each other. 1) before his match starts in the manga he says “follow my lead” but in the anime he says “stay out of my way” which contradicts what he says later on about helping him when he’s in trouble and him doing the same for his team. And 2) there’s this particular scene after Monoma notices Bakugous change in attitude.

The pan to deku was completely cut out. So it just seems like senseless praise from Kirishima in the anime. It’s not connecting the two dots that Bakugou is changing and that change ultimately stemmed from Deku.

I’m mainly pointing out some of the differences because you asked but I personally don’t care all that much about what the anime studio does because the manga will always be home base for me. However I’m assuming you’re also wondering about the second episode of season 6 which is what everyone’s been talking about.

This… did kinda disappoint me.

I can’t compare this from manga to anime cuz this entire scene is filler. It wasn’t in the manga and didn’t really have any business being added to the anime. And that goes back to the anime putting kid gloves on the story, none of the characters knew what was happening at the hospital. They were told to evacuate the city incase of a fight. And them finding out about the hospital this earlier is gonna make another scene kinda… lose its sense of dread.

But the way they handled Bakugou specifically in this scene was just kind of gross and contradicts him learning the importance of saving people throughout season 5 and season 6 is supposed to be a really important developmental arc for him. He’s so important in this arc and his attitude changes a lot so him whining like a brat about having to evacuate civilians feels like 2 steps backwards. He doesn’t think he’s better than everyone anymore and he hasn’t for a long time. So it just feels like a throw back to season 1x

There’s other things I could say about the anime like how Uraraka also isn’t done Justice and their inability to take serious topics seriously. The studio focuses more on “hey don’t forget this is a shonen” instead of being faithful to the source material and they just use Bakugous character as comedic relief and have no idea how to characterize him accurately (same with Uraraka) unless Hori is involved (which is why I think the first and third mha movies are garbage). All of that might be a different post but might not be because I don’t really take the anime seriously anymore.

Tl;dr

The anime is the manga with kid gloves. They put the story through a strainer and can’t keep up with characterization very well because of how complex Hori likes to write them. If you want the story unfiltered in its full glory, I highly recommend the manga.

I hope this helps calla but whether you wanna read the manga or stick the anime is completely your decision. The anime isn’t bad by any means it’s just a different experience from the manga.

#ask puff #puff answer’s #bakudeku #bkdk #bakugou katsuki #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha meta #kinda but not really #bnha manga #bnha anime #i don’t hate the anime but I much prefer reading the manga #also Horikoshis art style is really beautiful #if you do decide to read the manga I think you’d enjoy it :)

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