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#wish it was a little softer and even but i guess it says a lot about how im doing right now? heheh..
toruq · 6 months
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lindaaaaa
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loveanton · 4 months
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off my face | lee anton
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⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: your best friend has been in love with you for years but you’ve been too blind to notice.
❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: best friend!anton x f!reader
❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst, fluff, suggestive
❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.5k
⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: underage drinking, partying, drunk kisses, makeouts, pls let me know if i missed anything
⏤ 𝑎/n: finally finished my finals so this is a lil self indulgent piece hehe
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“I’m officially done with my exams!”
Anton smiles at you through his phone as he watches you vigorously shake your device out of excitement. You’re practically glowing, a mixture of relief and joy lighting up your features. Anton’s heart swells with pride. He’s always known how dedicated and hardworking you are, but seeing you like this makes him realize just how far you’ve come. You’d conquered another milestone, and he can't help but feel immensely proud of you.
He remembers all the late-night study sessions, the moments of doubt you’d shared, and the unwavering determination in your eyes. You’re amazing. He admires your strength, your perseverance, and the way you made everything seem possible. Anton has always been your biggest cheerleader, silently supporting you from the sidelines, even though he wishes he could do more. But right now, he’s just happy to see you so happy.
"Congratulations," Anton finally says, his voice warm and full of genuine pride.
"Thank you!" you beam, your eyes sparkling with gratitude. “Not gonna lie, I wrote complete bs for half the exam, after answering what I knew and adding up the points I gave up when I realized I had enough to pass the class.”
Anton snorts at your confession, “let’s pray your math wasn’t off then.”
You hum, “lets pray I actually got those questions right otherwise I’m screwed.”
The two of you laugh at your words before a beat of silence falls over the two of you. Anton hesitates for a moment, then decides to go for it. "So, what would you like me to buy you as a gift for finishing off your junior year?" he asks, his tone playful but sincere. He wants to celebrate this achievement with you, to make this moment even more special.
Your eyes widen in surprise, a smile spreading across your face. "Really? You don't have to—"
"I want to," Anton interrupts, a mischievous grin forming. "Come on, name your reward."
You laugh, thinking for a moment before answering. "Well, if you're sure... How about that new book series I've been eyeing?"
"Consider it done," Anton says, already mentally noting to order it as soon as possible. He wants to see that smile on your face in person, wants to be the reason for your happiness, even if just a little bit.
Just then, the door to Anton’s room opens, and Eunseok pokes his head in. He notices Anton on the phone and grins, stepping fully into the room. "Hey, who's that?" he asks, leaning closer to the screen.
You giggle and wave. "Hi, Eunseok! Guess what? I’m officially done with my exams!"
"Hey! That’s awesome! Congrats!" Eunseok says, his enthusiasm infectious. "So, Anton’s getting you something nice, right?"
"Yeah, he’s getting me a book series I wanted," you say, your excitement evident.
Eunseok smiles, "Want me to buy you something too?"
Your eyes sparkle with mischief. "Wait, really?”
He nods his head once and hums, “Yeah. Anything else you have your heart set on?”
“Want to take me out for some kbbq?"
Eunseok laughs, nodding. "Sure, Korean BBQ it is. I’ll text you to pick a date."
Anton forces a smile, trying to hide his disappointment. "Great, that sounds like a lot of fun."
You beam, clearly thrilled. "Awesome! Thanks, Eunseok. And thanks again, Anton, for the book series."
"Of course," Anton says, his voice softer now. "I’m really proud of you."
After a few more exchanges, Eunseok and Anton say their goodbyes, and you hang up. The moment the call ends, Anton feels a heavy weight settle in his chest. He can't shake off the sadness that you so eagerly accepted Eunseok's offer and that you would be going out to eat with him. It felt a bit too intimate, and jealousy gnaws at him.
Anton sulks around the dorm, trying to distract himself but failing miserably. Later on, once everyone has eaten and gotten ready for bed, Anton sits in the common area still pouting and eating an apple after skipping out on dinner because Eunseok was in charge of cooking tonight. Wonbin notices his friend's gloomy demeanor and approaches him with concern.
"Hey, what's got you all pouty?" Wonbin asks, nudging Anton gently.
Anton sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's nothing. Just... feeling a bit off, I guess."
Wonbin raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Come on, what is it? I know something's bothering you."
Anton hesitates, then finally gives in. "It's just... ____’s done with her exams and I offered to buy her a gift, she was really happy about it. But then Eunseok came in and offered to buy her something too and she accepted without a second thought. It just... I don’t know, it feels different."
Wonbin nods, understanding dawning on his face. "Ah, I see. You're feeling jealous."
"Yeah," Anton admits quietly. "I know it's stupid, but I can't help it. I’ve been in love with her for years, and she doesn’t even see me that way. And now she’s going out with Eunseok... it just hurts."
Wonbin claps a reassuring hand on Anton's shoulder. "Hey, it’s not stupid. Feelings are complicated. But maybe it's time to tell her how you really feel. Who knows, she might feel the same way."
Anton looks at Wonbin, a mixture of hope and fear in his eyes. "Maybe. I just don’t want to ruin what we have."
"Sometimes you have to take a risk to get what you really want," Wonbin says softly. "And you deserve to be happy too, Anton."
Anton nods, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Wonbin. I’ll think about it."
As he walks back to his shared room, Anton's mind races with thoughts of you, the possibilities, and the courage he would need to finally confess his feelings. But for now, he just hopes you’re happy, even if it isn’t with him.
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The next day, you head over to Anton’s dorm, excited to pick up the gift and hang out with your best friend. The sun is shining brightly, and there’s a lightness in your step as you approach the familiar building. When you knock on his door, it opens almost immediately, and Anton greets you with a warm smile.
"Hey! Come in," he says, stepping aside to let you enter.
"Thanks," you reply, stepping into the cozy space. The dorm has always felt like a second home to you, a place filled with fond memories and shared moments.
Anton walks the two of you to his room before going over to his desk and picks up a carefully wrapped package. "Here it is," he says, handing it to you with a shy grin.
You take the package, your eyes widening in surprise. "Wow, you wrapped it and everything! How did you get it so fast?"
Anton chuckles. "The perks of Amazon Prime," he replies, looking pleased with your reaction.
You laugh and start to unwrap the gift, revealing the book series you’ve been wanting. Your heart swells with gratitude, and you look up at Anton with a beaming smile. "Thank you so much, Anton! This is perfect."
"I’m glad you like it," he says softly, watching as you flip through the pages of the first book.
Just then, your phone buzzes with a text from your roommate. You glance at the screen and read the message. “Ouu, Mina just texted me about a party."
You look up at Anton, excitement and a hint of mischief in your eyes. "Do you wanna come with me? It’ll be a great way to celebrate."
Anton hesitates, his brow furrowing slightly. "A party? I don’t know... that’s not really my scene."
"Please, Anton," you say, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. "It would mean a lot to me if you came. We can have fun together, and it’s a good chance to let loose before I leave for the summer."
He sighs, but the look in your eyes makes it impossible for him to say no. "Alright, I’ll go," he agrees, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Yay! Thank you!" you exclaim, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "You’re the best, Anton."
He hugs you back, savoring the moment before you pull away. "I’ll see you later then. I need to get ready," you say, heading for the door.
"See you later," Anton replies, watching you leave with a fond look in his eyes.
After you’ve gone, Anton turns to find his roommates. He finds all six of them in the common area, discussing their plans for the evening. "Hey, guys. We’re going to a party tonight," Anton announces.
"A party? Are you sure you want to go?" Sungchan asks.
Sohee nods, “yeah, I never pegged you as the party going type.
Anton sends a sharp glare their way. “____ invited me, I’m sure it’ll be fun.”
"I’m sure it will," Wonbin adds, glancing at Anton. He remembers the conversation they had last night and grins. "So, is this the night you finally tell her how you feel?"
Anton’s cheeks flush slightly. "Ahhh, hyung!"
Eunseok raises an eyebrow. "Wait, tell who what?"
Wonbin nudges the younger male. "Anton’s in love with ____. Has been for years."
All the boy's eyes widen in surprise, as they stare at their youngest in shock. Shotaro is the first to react, he breaks into a wide grin. "Really? That’s awesome! We need to make sure you confess tonight."
Anton groans. "No. Guys, please. I don’t want to make it a big deal."
His words go right over everyone's heads as they start coming up with a masterplan to help out their brother.
"Don’t worry, Anton," Wonbin says with a mischievous glint in his eye. "We’ve got your back. Tonight’s the night."
Anton sighs, knowing there’s no stopping them. As the evening approaches, the dorm buzzes with excitement. The guys are all determined to help Anton confess his feelings to you by the end of the party, and Anton can only hope that everything goes well.
___
Back in your dorm, you and Mina are getting ready for the party. The room is filled with the upbeat music Mina insists on playing whenever you two are preparing for a night out. You’re both rifling through your closets, trying on different outfits, and swapping opinions on what looks best.
“This party is going to be amazing,” Mina says, holding up a sparkly top against herself and checking the mirror. “Are you sure Anton’s coming?”
“Of course,” you reply, slipping into the black dress you finally settled on. “I convinced him. He’s not really into parties, but he agreed to come.”
Mina grins and raises an eyebrow. “You know, that’s probably because he has a thing for you. So, when are you going to confess your feelings?”
You roll your eyes, waving off her comment. “We’re just friends, Mina. He doesn’t see me like that.”
Mina gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure about that? You two are pretty close, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“Seriously, it’s not like that,” you insist, feeling a twinge of discomfort. You don’t want to get your hopes up or think about the possibility of Anton seeing you as more than a friend. “Let’s drop it, okay?”
Mina shrugs, sensing the finality in your tone. “Alright, alright. But if you change your mind, tonight could be the perfect time.”
You finish getting ready in silence, both focused on your makeup and hair. Once you’re satisfied with your looks, you grab your bags and head out the door, excitement bubbling within you for the night ahead.
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The party is already in full swing by the time you and Mina arrive. The house is packed with people, music blaring, and laughter echoing through the rooms. You’re greeted by a wave of familiar faces, everyone eager to chat and offer you drinks.
Anton stands off to the side, trying to blend into the background while watching you interact with ease. He sees guys coming up to you, talking and laughing, some even offering you drinks. A pang of jealousy hits him, but he tries to push it aside.
Sungchan, noticing Anton’s brooding expression, decides to take action. He grabs two drinks and walks over to Anton, shoving them into his hands. “Here, take these. Go talk to her. Stop sulking.”
Anton hesitates but knows Sungchan is right. He takes a deep breath and walks over to you, hoping to get a moment alone.
You notice Anton approaching and smile brightly. “Hey! I’m so glad you made it.”
“Hey,” he replies, handing you one of the drinks. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
The two of you find a quieter corner and start chatting about your summer plans. You excitedly tell him about your upcoming girls’ trip to Tulum, and he shares his plans to go on tour with the boys before heading back to New Jersey to spend time with his family.
“I’m so excited for you,” you say, genuinely happy for him. “Touring sounds incredible.”
“Thanks,” Anton says, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “And Tulum sounds amazing. You’re going to have so much fun.”
Just as you’re about to dive into another topic, Sohee appears out of nowhere, grabbing both of your arms. “Hey, you two! Come on, we’re starting a drinking game in the basement. You have to join us!”
You laugh, allowing Sohee to drag you towards the basement. “Alright, alright, we’re coming!”
Anton follows, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.
The basement is filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension as everyone gathers around in a circle for the game. The room is dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere perfect for a game of Dare or Drink. Sohee stands in the center, holding an empty bottle, and addresses the group with a mischievous grin.
"Alright, losers," Sohee announces loudly, "we're playing Dare or Drink. It's pretty self-explanatory, but here are the rules: we spin the bottle, and if it lands on you, you either do the dare or take a drink. Got it?"
Everyone nods, a mix of nervous laughter and anticipation rippling through the group. Seunghan is the first to spin the bottle, and it lands on Chaemin. The room holds its breath as he smirks.
"Alright, Chaemin," Seunghan says, leaning forward, "I dare you to kiss the person next to you."
Chaemin's eyes widen, her cheeks turning pink as she looks to her side and sees Shotaro. She bites her lip, hesitating. Shotaro's face is already turning red, a nervous smile on his lips. Chaemin quickly decides and grabs her drink, taking a big gulp instead of completing the dare.
You giggle, noticing Shotaro's embarrassment, and pat his shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry, Shotaro. Maybe next time," you say with a playful wink.
Chaemin, still blushing, spins the bottle next. It twirls around before pointing at Wonbin. She grins mischievously. "Wonbin, I dare you to strip and go skinny dipping with me."
The room erupts in cheers and laughter, the boys howling at the suggestion. Wonbin, however, chuckles and shakes his head, opting to take a drink instead.
Sohee rolls her eyes dramatically. "Come on, guys! This game is boring if no one does the dares. Step it up!"
With a determined look, Wonbin spins the bottle, and it lands on Anton. Anton's eyes widen as everyone hoots and hollers, anticipating the dare.
"Alright, Anton," Wonbin says, his voice dripping with mischief, "I dare you to make out with the hottest girl in the room."
The group falls silent, all eyes on Anton as he blushes furiously. You can feel your own cheeks heating up, heart pounding as you wait to see what he'll do. Anton looks around nervously, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than the others.
Anton hesitates, his mind racing. He can feel the weight of everyone's eyes on him, especially yours. The truth is, he already knows who the hottest girl in the room is to him, but saying it out loud and acting on it in front of everyone feels daunting.
With a deep breath, he glances at you again, the unspoken feelings swirling in his eyes. "I—"
But before he can finish, the group erupts in cheers and laughter again, breaking the tension. Anton, still flustered, grabs his drink and takes a large gulp, avoiding the dare.
You can't help but feel a mix of relief and disappointment. You give him a supportive smile, hoping to ease his nerves. Anton looks at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else you can't quite place. The game continues, but you and Anton share a few more glances, the unspoken tension between you growing stronger with each passing moment.
As the game progresses and the drinks flow, the atmosphere in the basement becomes increasingly lively. Laughter fills the air, and the group becomes more daring with each spin of the bottle. You’ve mostly opted for drinks over dares, feeling the effects of the alcohol start to kick in. Your inhibitions are lowered, and a warm buzz settles over you as you join in the fun.
It's your turn again, and you watch as Sohee gives the bottle a playful spin. It twirls around before slowing down and pointing directly at you. The room erupts into cheers and laughter, and you can't help but giggle nervously as all eyes turn to you.
Sohee grins mischievously. "Alright, ____, I dare you to kiss the most attractive male in the room."
You scoff, feeling emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your veins. "Pfft, easy," you say with a playful smirk.
Without hesitation, you turn to Anton, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes widen in surprise, his cheeks flushing as he meets your gaze. The room falls silent, anticipation hanging thick in the air.
With a boldness you didn’t know you possessed, you lean in and press your lips against his, the kiss soft but filled with an undeniable electricity. Cheers erupt from the group as they watch in amazement, some even whistling and hollering in approval.
For a moment, everything fades away except for the sensation of Anton’s lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace, and the pounding of your heart. It feels like time slows down, and you lose yourself in the moment, forgetting about everything else but the connection between you and Anton.
When you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, the room erupts into cheers and applause. Anton stares at you, his eyes wide with surprise and something else you can't quite place.
Sohee claps you on the back, grinning from ear to ear. "Now that's what I call a dare!" he exclaims, earning laughter and agreement from the others.
As the cheers and applause die down, you begin to realize the weight of what just happened. Your heart races with a mix of nerves and excitement, unsure of what this means for your relationship with Anton.
Anton's eyes meet yours, his expression unreadable as he stands and reaches out to take your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Come on," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's get out of here."
You feel a pang of disappointment as Anton leads you away from the group, away from the pulsating energy of the party. A part of you wants to stay, to revel in the adrenaline rush of the moment, but another part knows that you need to talk, to figure out what this kiss means for your friendship.
But as Anton guides you up the stairs, you can't help but whine, dragging your feet like a child being dragged away from their favorite toy. "But I don't want to leave," you protest, your voice slurred from the alcohol. "I'm having fun."
Anton shoots you a warning look, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "____, we need to talk," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Reluctantly, you follow him into an empty bedroom, the noise of the party fading into the background. Anton closes the door behind you, and for a moment, there's nothing but silence between you.
"I..." Anton starts, his voice trailing off as he struggles to find the right words. "I don't know what this means for us, but... that kiss, it felt..."
Before he can finish, you cut him off with a giggle, swaying unsteadily on your feet. "Anton, you're overthinking it," you say with a drunken smile. "Let's just go back to the party."
But Anton shakes his head, a determined look in his eyes. "No, we need to talk about this."
You pout, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the seriousness of the situation. "Fine," you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest.
Anton sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He realizes that you're too drunk to have a proper conversation, too caught up in the moment to fully understand the implications of what just happened. With a heavy heart, he decides to abandon the conversation for now, knowing that it's pointless to try to reason with you in your current state.
Instead, he takes a deep breath and gently guides you out of the room, back towards his dorm. You stumble slightly, leaning on him for support as you navigate the streets together.
When you finally reach his room, Anton helps you onto his bed, tucking you in with gentle hands. You mumble a sleepy thank you, already drifting off into a drunken slumber.
Anton watches you for a moment, his heart heavy with uncertainty. He knows that things will never be the same between you, that this kiss has changed everything. But as he looks down at your sleeping form, a small smile tugs at his lips. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something new.
With a sigh, he turns away, grabbing a makeup wipe to gently wipe off your makeup. He changes you into one of his oversized shirts and a pair of his boxers, making sure to avert his eyes as he does so.
Once you're settled, he takes a pillow and a blanket, making himself comfortable on the floor beside the bed. He knows that he needs to be there for you, to take care of you, even if it means sacrificing his own comfort.
As he drifts off to sleep, thoughts of you swirl through his mind. He feels nervous about what the future holds for your friendship, but also excited at the possibility of something more. And as he falls asleep beside you, he knows that whatever happens, he'll always be there for you, ready to support you through whatever comes your way.
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The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow into Anton's room. You slowly blink your eyes open, groaning at the pounding headache that greets you. As you try to piece together the events of last night, memories flood back to you in bits and pieces. The party, the drinking, the kiss...
Your heart sinks as you realize where you are. You sit up slowly, the room spinning slightly as you take in your surroundings. You're in Anton's room, and the memories of the drunken kiss flood back to you with embarrassing clarity. You feel stupid for letting things get out of hand, for letting your feelings show in such a reckless way.
As you start to get dressed, pulling on your pants with shaky hands, the door creaks open and Anton enters, carrying a glass of water and some pills. You freeze, your heart racing as you meet his gaze. There's a moment of awkward silence as you both stand there, unsure of what to say.
Anton breaks the silence first, holding out the water and pills to you. "Here," he says softly, his voice gentle. "You'll feel better after you take these."
You take the medicine gratefully, mumbling a small thank you as you swallow the pills with a sip of water. Anton watches you carefully, his expression unreadable as he waits for you to speak.
Finally, he clears his throat, his voice hesitant. "About last night...," he starts, trailing off as he searches for the right words. "I wanted to talk to you about the kiss."
Your heart sinks even further, and you feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Oh, uh... yeah," you mumble, trying to play it off casually. "It was just a stupid drunken kiss. We were both drunk, and I... I didn't mean anything by it."
Anton's gaze softens, and you can see the doubt flickering in his eyes. He takes a step towards you, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you mean that?" he asks, his tone gentle but insistent. "Or... do you have feelings for me?"
You feel a lump forming in your throat, and you struggle to find the right words. "I... I don't know," you admit, feeling flustered and exposed under his gaze. "It was just a... a stupid mistake."
But Anton knows you're lying, knows you're trying to brush off something that meant more to both of you than you're willing to admit. With a newfound confidence, he takes another step towards you, closing the distance between you.
"____," he says softly, reaching up to caress your cheek with trembling fingers. "I've loved you for years. That kiss... it meant everything to me."
You stare up at him in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. You're not sure how to respond, not sure if you're ready to face the truth of your feelings for him. But before you can say anything, Anton leans in, his lips capturing yours in a gentle, hesitant kiss.
For a moment, everything fades away except for the warmth of Anton's embrace, the softness of his lips against yours. As the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, Anton hums, his right hand slides under your hair to rest on your neck.
You quietly moan when he spreads your mouth with his and slips his tongue into your wet mouth. Anton’s fingers are tangled in your hair, his thumb resting on the side of your face. He tilts his head and deepens the kiss. He moans when he wraps his tongue around yours. He rests his other hand on the small of your back as he reclines you slowly, carefully, until you are laying down and he is hovering over you. He retracts his left hand from your back and starts to slowly rub circles on the inside of your thighs.
You slightly push him away feeling overwhelmed with all the new sensations but you know you need to tell him this before anything else happens, “I love you too.”
Anton smiles down at you and pecks your lips once more, “I love you more.”
In that moment you feel a sense of completeness wash over you, a feeling of rightness that you've never experienced before. As you lose yourself in his eyes, in the warmth and safety of Anton's embrace, you know that this is just the beginning of your journey together, the start of something beautiful and true.
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pretzel-box · 1 month
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Do you think you could do a autistic reader who got extremely overwhelmed after a encounter with Pandemonium (from the scream to the stressful attack). When they arrive to Sebastian shop, he immediately notices how shaken up their are to the point they just break down and unable to say a words when he ask if their are alright from how overwhelmed they are. So he try his best to reassure them (he not the best at it) and let them rest in him shop until they feel better from the terrified encounter.
Pandemonium is honestly the top reason why I just can’t play this game, even if I wish too.. 🥲
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Tags: LOTS OF COMFORT, GN!reader, Sebastian being super supportive, Sea Bunny as a nickname!
Words: 1,4k
Authors Note: I feel that. People say the minigame is easy when you are calm but no. It's not. I suffer.
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You stumbled into Sebastian's shop, barely holding yourself together. Your breaths were coming in shallow, rapid gasps, your hands shaking uncontrollably. The familiar dim light of the shop did little to calm your frazzled nerves. You could still hear the echo of Pandemonium’s scream in your ears, the sound of its body slamming against the locker you hid in. Your mind replayed the scene over and over, each impact rattling your core like it was happening all over again.
Sebastian looked up from his spot at the wall, behind a table, his three eyes narrowing with a hint of concern as he took in your state. "Hey," he called softly, his voice a low rumble, almost soothing in its roughness. “You alright, sea bunny?”
But you couldn’t respond. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Your throat felt tight, your mind too overwhelmed to form a coherent thought. You wrapped your arms around yourself, hugging tight as if that could hold you together, keep you from falling apart right there on the floor.
Sebastian’s expression softened—a rare occurrence for the usually gruff shopkeeper. He could see the tears welling up in your eyes, the way your body trembled with each breath. He wasn’t good at this sort of thing, wasn’t used to dealing with… feelings. But he knew you were in distress. He knew enough to see that you needed help.
“Hey, hey,” he said, his voice dropping even lower, more gentle than you’d ever heard it. He rounded the counter, approaching you slowly, carefully, as if you were a spooked animal he didn’t want to startle further. “It’s okay. You’re safe now, alright?”
You still couldn’t speak, the words stuck in your throat like a stone. Tears spilled down your cheeks, and you tried to wipe them away with the back of your hand, but they just kept coming. Sebastian was right in front of you now, his towering presence strangely comforting in the midst of your breakdown. “Can I touch your shoulder?” You nodded at his question. He hesitated for a moment, then placed a tentative hand on your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so rough around the edges.
“You’re okay,” he repeated, his tone awkward, like he wasn’t sure what to say but knew he had to say something. “Just… breathe, alright? You’re safe here. I’ve got you.”
His words were a lifeline, something to hold onto amidst the storm raging in your mind. You tried to focus on his voice, his presence, grounding yourself in the here and now instead of the terrifying encounter you’d just escaped. His hand was warm on your shoulder, steadying you, keeping you from spiraling further into panic.
“Pandemonium got you, huh?” he guessed, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. He didn’t push for an answer, didn’t expect one. He just wanted you to know he understood. “That bastard’s a real piece of work. But he’s not here now. Just me. Just us.”
You nodded, a small, shaky movement, but it was something. It was all you could manage. Sebastian’s hand moved from your shoulder to the back of your neck, a light, comforting squeeze, almost like he’d seen others do and was trying his best to mimic it. “Take your time, sea bunny. You can stay here as long as you need.”
He led you over to a chair in the corner, guiding you down into it gently. You sank into the seat, your body feeling like dead weight. Sebastian crouched down in front of you, his three eyes focused on you, watching you carefully, making sure you were okay—or at least, as okay as you could be right now.
“I’ll get you some water,” he said, straightening up. “Just… sit tight, alright? You’re safe here.”
You nodded again, a little more firmly this time, and he turned away, heading to the back of the shop. The sound of him moving around, the clink of a glass, was a strange comfort. You were still shaking, still overwhelmed, but the panic was starting to ebb, replaced by exhaustion. Your muscles ached from the tension, your mind heavy and foggy.
Sebastian returned with a glass of water, pressing it into your hands. You took it, your fingers brushing against his, and he didn’t pull away immediately, lingering just a moment longer, his gaze steady on you.
“Drink,” he instructed softly. “It’ll help.”
You took a small sip, the cool liquid soothing your dry throat. Sebastian stayed close, watching you with an intensity that was almost unnerving, but also… comforting. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was here. And for now, that was enough.
“Thank you,” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible, but it was the first words you’d spoken since you stumbled into the shop.
Sebastian’s lips twitched into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Anytime, Sea bunny. Anytime.”
Sebastian watched you closely, his three eyes scanning your face for any sign that you were coming back to yourself. You were still shaking, your breaths still ragged and shallow, and he could see that you were still caught in the aftermath of the encounter with Pandemonium. He’d seen it before—people coming through his shop after running into that thing, looking just as lost and terrified as you did now. But you were different. You mattered.
“Hey,” Sebastian said softly, his voice gentle, almost coaxing. “Let’s try something, alright? It’s this… grounding thing. Helps when you’re feeling… y’know, like everything’s too much.”
You looked at him, eyes wide and teary, but you didn’t pull away. You were listening. That was something. He took that as a sign to continue.
“Okay,” he said, his voice calm and even. “Let’s start with five things you can see. Can you do that for me, Sea Bunny? Just… look around and tell me five things you can see.”
You blinked, trying to focus, your eyes darting around the shop. Your gaze landed on the shelves lined with strange trinkets and scavenged goods, the dim glow of a cracked lantern hanging from the ceiling, the worn leather of Sebastian’s jacket that still hung over your shoulders, he had placed it there a moment ago to keep you warm and secure.
“Shelves,” you said softly, your voice barely a whisper. “Lantern… your jacket.”
“That’s three,” Sebastian encouraged, his tone warm and reassuring. “Two more. You’re doing great.”
You nodded, still looking around. “The… the door,” you said, and then, after a moment, “The picture of the cat on you.”
“There you go,” Sebastian said with a small smile, his hand still resting on your shoulder. “Good job. Now, four things you can hear. Can you do that?”
You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to block out everything but the sounds around you. The hum of the lantern’s old bulb, the faint dripping of water from somewhere in the shop, the soft creak of the floorboards under Sebastian’s weight, and… his breathing, steady and calm.
“Lantern… dripping water… the floor, and… your breathing,” you said, your voice a little steadier now.
Sebastian nodded. “Good. Really good, Sea Bunny. Now three things you can feel. Could be anything—your clothes, the chair, anything.”
You shifted slightly, feeling the leather of his jacket against your skin, the rough wood of the chair beneath you, the cool glass of water in your hands.
“Jacket… chair… water,” you listed off, your voice growing a touch firmer with each word.
“Perfect,” he said. “Now, two things you can smell.”
You took a deep breath, your senses still heightened from the panic, and caught the scent of something… familiar. The faint, salty tang of the ocean clinging to Sebastian’s clothes, mingling with the faint musty scent of the shop.
“Ocean… and… the shop,” you said, a small, almost tentative smile forming on your lips.
“Last one,” Sebastian said, his voice softer, almost a whisper now. “One thing you can taste.”
You took another sip of the water he’d given you, letting the cool liquid soothe your throat. “Salty Water,” you whispered.
Sebastian nodded, his grip on your shoulder tightening just a fraction, a silent gesture of support. “There you go,” he said, his voice still low and comforting. “You did great. You’re here, with me. You’re safe.”
You looked up at him, your breathing starting to even out, the tightness in your chest slowly loosening. His presence was solid, grounding, like an anchor pulling you back from the depths of panic. You weren’t alone. You weren’t lost.
“Thank you,” you said, your voice still shaky but stronger than before. “For… for helping me.”
Sebastian’s smile was small but genuine, a rare softness in his otherwise hardened expression. “Anytime, Sea Bunny,” he said quietly. “I’m here. Always.”
And for the first time since you stumbled into his shop, you believed it.
108 notes · View notes
amateurmasksmith · 6 months
Text
You Didn’t Know (Reprise)
(don’t mind me, just got inspired by a shitpost by @onesidedradiostatic (and their Anon) and turned it into angst…)
(also, it looks like @convolutedblasphemy beat me to it - well done btw - but I still wanted to give it a stab!)
Vox (yoinking the proof away): “Gimme that, Alastor, It’s not meant to be seen by you. Let’s move on, everyone, Figure out the best move that should, Improve our chances against the Angels’ threat!”
Alastor teleports behind him and counter-yoinks.
Alastor: “You want me to ignore that? No, not yet.”
Alastor examines the figurine closer, with a morbid fascination.
Lucifer, to Alastor: “It’s not as simple as you think, Not everything’s been spelled in ink.”
Vox lunges at Al angrily, flailing his arms as Alastor easily sidesteps him. Val catches him before he can fall.
Vox: “Leave it, Alastor!”
Valentino: “Careful, Voxy, keep a cool head.”
Vox pushes away from Val, gesturing towards Alastor.
Vox: “No! You never cared, did you?! You left, and it was like you were dead, Al/ /astor! We could’ve just gone our separate ways, but You left me here, with this internal blaze!”
Alastor: “I’m sure you wish it had been so, but there’s a lot that you don’t know!”
Vox: “You left before we could talk it out! Find a way we could still be friendly! But you blew your shot when you dropped off the block, Yeah, I’m so ‘sorry’ for being so petty!”
Alastor pulls Vox into a dance as they sing past each other.
Alastor/Vox: “No more questions to be posed,” / “There’s one question to be posed,” ”I hate you now, case closed” / “Though you are predisposed” “I try to forget that we were forever!” / “Why is this thing worth losing your temper?”
Vox breaks off and walks away, putting distance between them…
Vox: “I made the mistake once, Now I won’t be a chump! Decades of isolation await you,”
Velvette, concerned where this is going: “Vox?”
Vox: “No-one else will think to even date you!”
Alastor: “Wait-”
Vox turns around, realizing what he said.
Vox, who didn’t mean to spill: “Shit.”
Alastor (Aro 404): “What are you saying? Let me get this straight, When you begged me then, Down on your knees…?”
Valentino: “He didn’t know?!”
Velvette: “Whoops! Guess the cat’s out of the bag!
Alastor (through gritted teeth): “Oh, what a reveal!”
Vox: “Wait a sec here, Al, you didn’t know?”
Alastor begins slowly pacing towards Vox.
Alastor: “I thought you were bolder, as our friendship grew older!”
Vox, pained: “No!”
Alastor’s demon form begins to show as he slowly corners Vox.
Alastor: “You have to listen, My life here has just one mission, So it’s lucky I saved you, The anguish it takes to… Do what was required!”
Vox: “To think that I admired you, Al!”
Alastor breaks off, dismissing him with a wave of his hand, and starts walking away.
Alastor: “I don’t need your condescension, It’s not my fault you weren’t direct!”
Vox: “Was our relationship just manipulation? Oh, I was naive to expect you, to care beyond favors you’re repaying!”
Alastor: “Vox, what on earth are you saying? Love is not forever, your programs here are all lies, I’d have thought that seven years would give you enough time! Now I’ll leave you all to handle your foolish little scandal,”
Al gestures to the group, and casually drops the figurine in Lucifer’s hands as he brushes past.
Alastor, to Lucifer: “I’d recommend you stick to sculpting Anatidae.”
Alastor is engulfed by his shadow, and melts into a nearby radio. He emerges at Rosie’s place, ears drooping. The music takes on a softer style.
Alastor: “Rosie, dear, I have a problem.”
Rosie: “For you, Al, I’m all ears! Sit down here!”
Rosie gestures to her couch, on which she sits, and Alastor crumples.
Alastor: “Ugh! Apparently, my old pal Vox, Bought a commission, born from horrid thoughts… I gave him a piece of my mind, he Said ‘we were forever,’ and yet somehow I never…”
Rosie: “Oh. Yes, I see…”
Rosie brings Alastor in for a hug.
Alastor: “Why the fuck / Was I the last to know my old friend had a crush?”
As the music fades out, we see Alastor’s face buried in Rosie’s shoulder, partly obscured… Without a smile.
181 notes · View notes
justmeinadaze · 9 months
Text
I Miss the Misery Part 2 (Steve X You)
Tumblr media
Part One Here
Warnings: Toxic Daddy Stevie (but he wants to be better)/ Slightly Toxic Fem sub reader, SMUT, dirty talk, rough play, daddy kink (cause im me), choking, spanking, degrading, Slight Fluff, she loves him and he loves her but they both struggle with their feelings, ANGST, Jealous Steve AND Reader, Steve gets drunk after a bad experience with his father (he talks about it; elaborated), They both try to verbally hurt each so they say mean things to each other ( they call each other names, bring up past behavior, etc.) , cliff hanger ending!
Word Count: 7058
It had been a couple of weeks since your incident with your ex Steve Harrington. When you came home that night your boyfriend was still up waiting for you. You talked things through like any normal couple would and that night you both went to bed happy. Well, he did. You laid there for hours replaying the nights events in your head. 
You could still feel Steve’s hands on your hips where he clung to you as he thrust his big, thick cock into you roughly till your eyes rolled back. You could still hear his grunts and pants warming your ear as his sweaty body fell on top of yours. 
But more than anything, you kept going back to the conversation after. 
“Yeah, well, if we’re toxic then I’d rather go down with you than anyone else.”
“I just kept wishing they were you.”
“I feel like we can make this work.”
You had always believed the two of you could make your relationship work but the problem always was that he could never commit to it. He had you for two years in high school and he, quite literally, let you slip away. It wasn’t fair to you for him to think he could just show up one day and you’d drop everything to be with him especially when you knew it would end badly. 
A strong hand reached out from the darkness of an open door and yanked you into the room before slamming it shut. 
“What’s this I’m hearing about you going on a date with Ben Lomax?”, Steve asked sternly as he glared down at you. 
“Well, hello to you to, Harrington. I hope you had a good weekend.”
“Don’t play with me, Y/N.”
“What do you care? We’re not dating right? I can go out with whoever I want to.”
Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you watch his jealously rise. You liked amping him up like this so he’d take what’s his. 
“You’re mine, little girl.”
“Then claim me, Daddy. Make me yours.”
It felt so good having him take control the way he did even though you knew it wasn’t healthy. No… you couldn’t allow him to win this time. This time you needed to do what was right for you and Jacob. Rolling over onto your side, you wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed your face into his back, clinging to normality tightly as you finally drifted off to sleep. 
***
“Hey, baby.”, your boyfriend grinned as you sat beside him at his desk and he handed you some items in a grocery bag. “Thank you for coming by. You know how my mom is. I’d give her back these things myself but this project…”
“I know, honey. You’ve been working really hard.”, you reply encouragingly as you softly smile. 
The smell of his cologne hit you before the sound of his voice. Glancing down the hallway, you watched as Steve argued with someone over the phone as he sauntered confidently towards you both. Your body and attitude prepared for the battle that was sure to come but to your surprise he walked right past you as if you weren’t there. After angrily hanging up his phone, his face changed to a much softer demeanor as he grinned, opening his arms wide as a blond young lady eagerly jumped into them. 
“That’s Mr. Harrington’s new girlfriend I hear.”, Jacob whispers. “She’s a lot younger than him but I guess that’s expected when you have all the money in the world.”
You hadn’t heard a word he said, the fury bubbling in your stomach up to your chest. 
“I can play this game better.”
Fucking asshole. He wants to pretend I’m not here and try to make me jealous, go ahead! I’m not the same girl I was in high school. This won’t work. 
“Baby? Are you ok?”
“Hm? Yeah, sweetheart. I’m fine, just tired.”
“I understand. Hey, tonight we’re meeting at the bar downtown. It’s just going to be the team here. Would you want to go?”
Shifting you gaze their way again, you watched as Steve beamed down at the girl before tenderly kissing her lips. 
“Yeah, I think that sounds fun.”
########
“So Y/N, how is the new book coming along?”, Jacob’s coworker asked as you took a sip from the alcohol in your glass. 
“Good, thank you. I’m having some writers block but it’s not a big deal. Not as big a deal as what you guys have been working on.”
“Yeah, thankfully we’re almost near the end.”, another girl at the table sighs. “Mr. Harrington has really helped us out. He’s been buying us lunch for the office every day.”
“And letting us leave early on Fridays so we can have a bit of a break. He stays in the office to make up the time.”
You couldn’t help but smile at their praise. Steve had always been a complete asshole but even during your relationship with him you saw the compassion and kindness that hid under the snark.
“Y/N? Honey, are you alright?”, he cooed as he sat on the bench beside you. His long fingers tenderly reached out to dry the tears that were still falling down your cheeks. 
“I’m fine, Steve. You don’t have to…”, you tried to dismiss him as you waved your hand. 
“I know I don’t have to. You know me. You know I don’t do anything I don’t want to.” Steve firmly grabbed your wrists and turned your body to face him a bit more. “Now, what’s going on, babe?”
“My, uh, my grandfather died.”
At your revelation, you began to cry harder and he collected you in his arms, pressing your head to his chest. 
“Shit, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I know you two were really close. Everything’s ok, pretty girl. I’m right here.”
“Speak of the devil…Mr. Harrington! Hey! Why don’t you come sit with us?!”, one of Jacob’s friends shouted bringing you back to reality. 
Steve Harrington was the devil indeed with how delicious he looked dressed in his jeans and black button up shirt. His signature smile blinded the table as he grabbed his dates arm and headed towards you. 
“Hey guys. You don’t have to invite me. I’m sure you’re tired of dealing me for 40+ hours a week already.”
“Oh, come on. Join us. It’s no problem at all.”
The sound of your glass slamming into the table startled everyone including Steve as he finally gave you his attention. 
“Yeah, Steven. Not a problem at all. Take a seat.”
His head ticked to the side in amusement before taking a seat and pulling his date onto his lap making you cringe in annoyance. 
“Y/N apparently went to school with Mr. Harrington here.”, Jacob explained to his coworkers who were still fairly wide eyed at the way you addressed him. 
“That’s pretty cool. You two were friends?”
“Nope. Hardly even knew each other. Right, Harrington?”, you sassed. 
Turning away from you, he focused on the original question. 
“I wouldn’t say friends. We definitely knew of each other. Everyone in Hawkins did with it being a small town and all.”
Throughout the rest of the night, you constantly fumed in his direction every time he opened his mouth. His hands constantly roamed his date’s skin driving you insane every time she would lean back and nuzzle her face into his neck. In retaliation you tried to do the same with Jacob but you knew that was a lost cause because he wasn’t very keen on the PDA. 
You drank more and more until the world around you got hazy.
“How long have you two been together?”, someone asked as they gestured towards him and his date. 
“Um, about two weeks I believe.”
“Hm. About how long she’s been in the world.”, you hiccupped as you knocked back a shot on the table. “I mean…look at you, Barbie. You’re basically a fetus.”
“Y/N.”, Jacob whispered. “That was rude.”
“No, no Jacob. It’s ok. I see she hasn’t changed much. Y/N here had kind of a reputation for being bratty at school.”
“And Steve Harrington had a reputation for being a man slut.”
“Alright, I think we’re going to go home. Come on, babe.”, you boyfriend said sternly, gripping your arm. 
“How about you guys come to my house? It’s a lot closer and you can get her to bed so she can sober up.”, Steve replied casually. 
“Oh, Mr. Harrington, we couldn’t impose.”
“I insist. Come on, honey.”, he grins as he slaps the girl’s ass playfully. “It was nice spending time with you guys. Jacob, just follow me.”
***
It took you awhile to catch your bearings when your groggy eyes opened and you realized you weren’t at home. 
“Jacob?”
Glancing beside you, you noticed his peacefully sleeping frame beside you so you left him be as you got up to find a bathroom. Wherever you were it was a very nice place with the updated furnishings and new home smell. 
It took you a moment to find a bathroom but after you did, you shut the door and ran the cool water over you face. 
What happened last night? I remember Steve showing up at the bar…a dizzying car ride…lips on mine…angry eyes. Maybe Jacob was upset for how I behaved. I need to make it up to him. He doesn’t deserve me acting like a drunk fool in front of his friends. 
Sighing, you opened the door to head back to bed but was met with a strong hand around your throat pushing you backwards into the bathroom and closing the door. 
“Are we sober now, little girl? Good because I really want this to sink in.”, Steve growled as his face hovered above yours. “If you ever disrespect me like that again I’ll throw you over my knee and spank you till you can’t handle it. I don’t care where we are or if your fucking boyfriend is in the room. Do I make myself clear?”
“What…what…I don’t remember…”
“You don’t…don’t…remember?”, he mocked. “Well, let me refresh your memory. I told your idiot boyfriend to bring you back to my house so you could rest because you were insulting my girlfriend and embarrassing yourself in front of his coworkers. When we got here, I showed him my spare rooms and left you guys alone. While I was getting ready for bed myself, the door was open and you were on your fucking knees IN MY HOUSE sucking another man’s dick AND CALLING HIM DADDY!”, Steve scolded roughly in your ear through clenched teeth.
Finally gathering your faculties, you pushed at his chest causing him to release you but only long enough to invade your space again as his face hovered just above your own. 
“I’M your Daddy.”
“Not anymore.”
“Oh? Did you also forget that you showed up at my office two weeks ago begging for my cock and calling me Daddy? Or was that some other pathetic little girl?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised with how many women you’ve fucked in your lifetime.”
“Said the whore. Let’s not forget how many guys you were with in Hawkins.”
“I wasn’t with anyone! I went on dates but the only person I ever fucked was you!”
“Yeah right. Do you expect me to believe that? Hell, you cheated on your boyfriend with me!”
“Like it matters if you believe me or not. Technically I was single in school. You couldn’t bother to be seen with me because I was fucking poor. Jesus. You say I’m pathetic but the truth is you are; a pathetic little daddy’s boy. Couldn’t even start or find a company of your own. You had to play sloppy seconds to his business!”
Steve’s palm covered your mouth roughly as he pushed you forcefully against the wall. His breathing became erratic as he heavily panted trying to control his temper. His eyes stared daggers into yours for what felt like forever till something in the air snapped and he replaced his hand with his lips. 
It was a rough kiss fueled by anger and you felt your pussy flutter at the notion. Riled up Steve was always one of your favorite versions of him because he claimed what was his in the best way possible. This is what you wanted. You wanted him to realize that he hated the idea of you not being his and fought to have you by his side. The problem was he did claim you but never truly made you his. 
Your arms pushed at his chest but his grip tightened as he held your wrists to your sides. Moving them to one hand, he utilized his now free palm to smack you before grabbing your cheeks with his fingers. 
“Do you want to stop? Say the word and we’ll stop.”, he growled. “Answer me.”
“No.”
“No what?”
“No, I don’t want you to stop.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Aggressively, he turned you around and pushed your body against the sink as he moved aside your panties while freeing his cock from his boxers. After spitting into his hand and stroking it along his shaft, you both groaned as he guided himself into you promptly setting a rough pace. 
“Baby?”
Your eyes widen at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice on the other side of the bathroom door and you see Steve smirk from his reflection in the mirror. 
“Y-Yeah?”
“Are you ok? I woke up and you weren’t there.”
The man inside you slowed his rhythm, dragging his length pleasantly along your tight walls before slamming himself back into your pussy making your eyes roll as your nails dug into the arm he had around your stomach.
“I-I’m okay, Jacob. Ahhh… I’ll be right there, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, you will, baby girl. You’ll—mmm—crawl back in beside him full of my cum like the fucking whore you are.”, Steve whispers, his lips attaching to your neck as your head falls against his shoulder. 
“Okay. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Picking up his pace again, his cock overwhelmed your senses as you tried to control yourself from screaming his name. 
“YES! I’m fine. I’ll be right there!”
“Alright, honey. I love you.”
Steve’s eyes met yours in the mirror, softening slightly when he saw pain flash through them. 
“I love you to.”
He knew you weren’t saying it to your boyfriend but to him, however, Jacob thinking your love was meant for him infuriated Steve as he spanked your ass hard before wrapping both arms around you to hold you still as he slammed his lower half into your own. 
“Who’s your Daddy, little girl?”
“You are, Steve, please.”
“Say it again so I know you fucking understand.”
“You are, Daddy. Please. Let me cum. I’ll—fuck—I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”
“No you won’t but that’s ok. I don’t mind putting you in your place.”
As his fingers find their way to your clit, you bite your bottom lip to stifle the loud moan that wants to break free. Placing your arms and hands over his own, you cling to him as your body trembles and you cum hard around him. His rhythm falters and you hear him grunt in your ear before you feel his release spill inside of you. 
Steve pants as his softening cock pulls out of your aching hole and tucks himself back into his boxers as he takes a seat on the edge of the tub. Maybe it was the headspace you were still in or just seeing him look so upset hit that soft spot in your heart but you couldn’t help it when you lowered yourself to your knees and crawled to his side, placing your head on his thigh as you hugged his legs. 
“I’m sorry I called him Daddy.”
His large palm reached out to pet your head making you sigh as you closed your eyes. 
“No, you’re not. Yeah you were drunk but your subconscious definitely wanted to hurt me and that would be the way to do it. It’s not like I didn’t do the same thing by bringing a young, beautiful girl around. I knew she’d piss you off.”
“Why do we have to be this way to each other, Steve?”
“I think the real question, sweetheart, is why do we like it?”
“Why do I like it so much with you?”, you whisper. As your tears begin to fall, he leans down to collect you in his arms and places you on his lap. “I tried, whatever the fuck this is, with other men and every time I got hurt. They were you times 10. Then I met Jacob and—”
“He’s the exact opposite.” 
“And not in a good way.”, you sigh as you caress his face with your palm. “Steve, I didn’t have sex with anyone else when we were in school. The first time I was every with someone who wasn’t you was after I left. I hated it… he was too rough and almost every conversation we had was a fight.” Turning his face towards you, you tenderly kiss his forehead. “I swear, I never called any of them Daddy. They would beg me to but it always felt wrong. Only you ever knew how to take care of me like that. I just wish you could have taken care of me in every other way.”
After softly kissing his lips, you crawled off his lap and headed back to bed to curl up in your boyfriend’s arms that you wished were Steve’s.
##################
Another week went by in uneventful domestic bliss as you continued to be the best girlfriend you could. Today Jacob and his coworkers were celebrating finishing the project they had been working on with a camping trip up north. He had invited you to come along but after what happened you thought it best to stay put. You also weren’t really a fan of sleeping outdoors without AC but you kept that little tidbit to yourself. 
You utilized the alone time to work on your novel and get things done around the house but after a couple of hours, you found yourself extremely bored. Throwing on your jacket and grabbing your keys, you headed to a bar down the way ordering the strongest drink you could think of. 
Once again, the smell caught your attention first before the snarky laugh that followed. 
“Of course. Of course. Of fucking course, YOU of all people would be here.”, Steve giggled drunkenly as he knocked back his beverage and signaled the bartender for a refill. 
He looked completely disheveled, his hair a mess due to his fingers running frustratingly through it. The suit jacket he had worn was hanging on the back of the chair while his white button up shirt was untucked and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. 
“Steve? What happened?”
“Like you care.”
You should have walked away; left him there to wallow by himself but this nagging in your stomach wouldn’t allow you to as your worry for him took control. 
“I do care. Come on, Steve, talk to me.”
Spinning in his seat, he leaned his side obnoxiously over the bar as his glassy eyes met yours. 
“What happened. Hm…Y/N wants to know what the fuck happened. Well, we finished our project at work today. Managed to sign a huge fucking client worth millions! But does that impress my father? Oh, no. Fucker has to fly up here just to berate me and scold me on what we need to do next. This isn’t my first day on the job. I’ve watched that asshole work my entire life and he can’t even let go for one God damn second to see I did something good!”
“You’re right. I remember he was always hard on you. I saw him scream at you once after a game even though the team won and you made the most points. He said you didn’t try hard enough.” He nods at the memory, chugging the content of the glass and again asking for more. You discreetly signaled to the bartender that this was the last one as you focus your attention back on the broken man in front of you. “I hope you know he’s wrong. I know how hard you worked on this.”
“Yup. I know, Y/N. I’m not a fucking idiot. Why are you even here? I’m toxic remember?”
“You are but that doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to you. Let me take you home.”
“Fuck you. I can fucking take myself home.”, he growls, finishing the last of his beverage. 
“Ok. Can you at least text me and let me know you got home safely?”
After rubbing his shoulder comfortingly, you put on your jacket and pay for your drink but as you turn to leave, a warm palm abruptly grabs your wrist. 
“Y/N, um… C-Can you come home with me? I promise I won’t make a move or anything. I just… don’t want to be alone.”
***
“Oh shit!”, he laughs as he falls through the door after turning the key. 
“Where’s your girlfriend tonight?”, you ask as you guide him towards his bedroom, holding his waist as he stumbles from side to side. 
“Girlfriend? Oh, you mean Barbie?”
“That’s not really her name is it?”
Steve snorts as he chuckles, throwing himself onto the mattress and throwing his arm over his eyes. 
“No…it’s, um, Tiffany. No, Erica…Fuck, I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since you and your idiot spent the night.”
After you flashed him a sassy smirk he didn’t see, you began getting him ready for bed starting with his shoes. You thought he had finally passed out but when you grabbed his arm to take off his watch and class ring from college, his eyes opened, and he tilted his head to watch you. 
“Where can I put these?”, you murmur with a soft smile.
Silently, he gestures towards the bedside table and you reach for the drawer to delicately place them inside. Something catches your eye, however, as you pull out a well, worn picture of the two of you in high school. Steve rarely ever took photos with you back then. Nothing the two of you ever did was ever genuinely photo worthy since you two were sneaking around most of the time. When this image was taken, you were supposed to take pictures for a class project and brought the camera with you to his house after your photoshoot with your group.
“Why do you have a camera? I thought you wanted to be a writer.”, he asks after noticing it in your bag and taking it out.
“Oh, so you ARE listening to me when I talk?”
“A ha ha. You’re so funny, Y/N.”
“It’s for a class project we’re working on.”, you giggle.
“Is the project sexy basketball captains?”, Steve joked as he held the device high in the air away from your reach. “Handsome Men at Hawkins High? Oh! Or Gods in Bed?”
“No. It’s a project about Hawkins jerks who steal stuff and are TERRIBLE in bed.”
You playfully tackle him onto the mattress and lightly wrestle with him till he has both arms around you with your face against his chest. Gently tugging your hair, his lips land on your forehead before traveling down to your own for a tender kiss. 
Holding his arm high above you both, he presses his cheek to your own as you both smile and the flash blinds your eyes. 
“Where did you get this?”, you whisper as he bends towards you and squints his eyes at the image. 
“Ummmm… stole it from your room…snuck in.”, Steve sighs as he rolls onto his back and closes his eyes. “You were…gone…vanish from…Hawkins.”
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn off his bed side lamp but as you begin to stand, his slurred voice fills your ears. 
“Please don’t go…”
Grabbing a throw blanket, you toss it over you both as you curl up into his side and rest your palm on his chest, letting the comforting rhythm of his breathing lull you to sleep.
############
The feeling of lips on your shoulder causes your eyes to flutter open.
You had rolled over in the night and were currently facing Steve’s bland, gray bedroom wall as soft hands roamed your skin. Pretending to still be asleep, you melted into his touch as you pushed your back into his chest. Fingers gently caressed your stomach and up your shirt as his mouth continued to travel towards your neck. 
Quickly moving some of your hair away from your face, Steve kissed your cheek as his palm massaged your breasts briefly before gliding back down to your stomach. You could feel his eyes watching you as you subtly moaned, the bulge in his slacks pressing against your clothed ass. 
You allowed your lower half to grind against him as his groan grumbled low in your ear. Moving one of his arms above your head, you reached up to intertwine your fingers with his as his other hand slipped through the waistband of your pants and under your panties. 
“Daddy.”, you panted as he guided his middle and ring fingers inside of your core. 
Steve didn’t respond verbally, his teeth gently grazing your earlobe as he rolled his hips against you matching the pace of his digits.
“Fuck, yes. Please… Talk to me, baby.”, you beg. 
Again, he doesn’t answer, releasing your hand to wrap his arm around your chest and hold you to him as he moved his fingers so fast between your legs that the sound of your slick filled the room. 
Your body trembles against his as the dam breaks and your nails dig into his skin as you cum. 
Rolling over on to your back, your eyes try to find his but he hastily diverts them as he focuses on pulling down your pants. Gripping his chin, you force him to look at you. 
“Talk to me, baby.”, you repeat. 
“Why are you here?”
His question genuinely threw you off as you scanned his face searching for a reason. 
“You asked me to. You said you didn’t want to be alone.”
“Yeah but WHY are you here, Y/N? You left me, you have a boyfriend, you think I’m a bad person yet you’re here.”
“I thought you wanted to be with me. That’s why you said what you said a few weeks ago. Why do you care? I’m just the girl you fuck to feel better right? RIGHT?!”
“THAT’S RIGHT!”, Steve shouts but even he realizes he sounds insincere. “You should go home.”
“What if I don’t want to go home.”
“I wasn’t asking. Get your shit and get out of my house.”
“No.”
Angrily, he rolled out of bed and grabbed your ankle, tugging you to the edge of the bed. Before he could take hold of your arm to lift you, you smacked his cheek blind siding him as you ran out of the bedroom and towards a guest room with the intent of shutting him out. 
Steve was much faster than you, wrapping his arm around your waist and lifting you off your feet as he carried you down the hall towards the stairs. 
“Why do you do this, Steve?! Why do you push me away?!”
“Because, little girl, like you said, I’m toxic. I’m just like my father and I’m sorry to say, honey, you aren’t at the level of my mother. You’re the side piece trash my dad throws out when he’s done.”
As soon as he reaches the bottom step, you take hold of the banister and manage to wiggle out of his hold, running towards the kitchen to allow for the barrier of the island between you two. 
“Said the man who has a picture of me in his nightstand. It seemed pretty worn too, Harrington. How long have you had it? How many times have you taken it out to look at over the years?”
“I look at it when I need a reminder of how low I sunk when it came to women back then. Thankfully I do much better now.”
“Oh yeah? Like Barbie? Wait, I mean Tiffany…Erica?”, you snicker sarcastically. “Couldn’t even bother to remember her name. Do you remember any of their names? Hell, was I the longest ‘relationship’ you had?!”
He lunges to the side but you duck out of the way just in time as you move around the island. 
“Oh shit, Steven. I was wasn’t I? Even in school you had all these women at your side but they were never yours. Why is that? Because if you had been in a real relationship, I never would have continued whatever the fuck we had. Didn’t have the balls to?”
You watch his face with immense satisfaction as his eyes get darker, filling with even more fury. 
“And that’s what pisses you off the most, huh? You say I’m the side piece but the fact of the matter is you are… and that scares you. I could throw you away just like your dad did to his whores… just like he does with you… Yet instead of standing up for yourself and claiming me; proving to me you can be a good man; you act like a child. You couldn’t even tell your daddy to fuck off which is why you went to the bar to get wasted.”
Shaking your head, you size him up and down with your eyes in disgust. 
“You’re not my Daddy, little boy.”
The calmness that washed over his face frighted you a bit, signaling to you that you needed to tread carefully. You had only ever seen him this way once before back in high school…the first time.
“Steve?”
“Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck do you want?!”, the boy growls from his place on the bleachers in the now empty gymnasium.
“I don’t mean to bother you. I don’t know if you remember me but we have a couple of classes together—”
“Wonderful. Go away.”
His gruff tone shakes you a bit but you were determined to say what you wanted to say. 
“Ok. I, um, I just wanted to tell you that I heard what your parents…your dad… said and I just wanted you to know that…he’s wrong. I think you did amazing out there tonight. Honestly, I think you do awesome every game but…”
The jock’s angry yes shoot up to look at you as he scans you over. 
“Yeah. Thanks…”
“Y/N. No problem. I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you be now.”
Reaching out abruptly, his hand grips your wrist and yanks you in one motion on to his lap so you were straddling his waist facing him. You should have gasped and hit him, called him a pervert or asshole, and immediately got away from him but the way he was looking up at you with those heart broken eyes… 
“You’re a very nice pretty girl, aren’t you?” You blushed at his calm, seductive tone as your hands balanced yourself on his shoulders. “Can I return the favor?”
He fucked you right there on the bleachers not caring if any one saw either of you or if you were embarrassed by someone walking in and catching you two. Steve used you till he was spent and he wasn’t gentle by any means. You loved it and he knew it as he smirked up or down at you every time you came. 
He didn’t chase you this time as you left the kitchen and ran down the hall. You didn’t know why until the man rounded a sudden corner and wrapped his palm around your throat. Pushing you backwards, he guided you towards the sofa before taking a seat and hurling your front half over his lap.
You squirmed as he held you down, yelping when his hand came down hard on your behind. 
“It’s been too long since you’ve been punished properly, little girl. Between the disrespect, attitude, and being a little whore, I think it’s time I put you in your place.” You wiggled against his hold but he was firm as one of his arms pressed into your shoulder blades. “Stop moving!”, Steve shouted as his hand came down harder than before. 
“Ow…Steve…”
You yelped as his palm came down again a couple more times. 
“It seems, Y/N, that you keep forgetting who I am but don’t worry. We’ll make sure it sticks this time. If this is the only way to get through to you, so be it.”
“Steve…please…OW!”, you whine when he spanks you again. 
“Don’t act like this isn’t turning you on. I bet if we pull off these panties, you’d be dripping like the little disobedient slut you are.”
After hitting you again, he yanks down your underwear making you groan as he slides his finger through your slick. 
“See? Didn’t I just make you cum? Look how wet you are. I told you before, honey. Pissing each other off is the shit that really gets us going.”
Minutes passed but it felt like hours as he continued to spank you turning you into a sobbing mess. Your ass was extremely sore and marked up enough that you would need to come up with an excuse if Jacob saw them. 
“Steve, please…”, you begged. “How many more?”
“However…many…more…it…takes!”, he shouted near your ear as he hit your behind between each word. “Who am I, Y/N?”
Circling his thumb along your clit, he didn’t allow you a moment to breathe as he built you up and your brain blanked. 
“Answer me, little girl!”
“DADDY! You’re Daddy, Steve.”
“Damn right. I’m not some side piece you throw away. I’m fucking Daddy.”, he growled. “People like you and my parents think I’m nothing but I’m NOT. Women scream my name almost every night. I’m the CEO of a huge firm. I make a ton of fucking money. Why isn’t that enough, huh?!”
As his palm connected with your red, bruised skin, you came drenching his lap with your arousal. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths as he tried to calm down, Steve’s gaze shifting to you when he heard your small sniffles. 
As carefully as he could, he lifted you up and turned you around till you were sitting properly on his lap with your face in the nook near his shoulder. While you continued to cry, his hands massaged your arms while he tenderly played with your hair. 
“What color are you at right now, honey?”
One of your arms rose to circle around his neck as you softly kissed his skin.
“Green, Daddy.”, you whisper. 
Steve curtly nodded as his eyes remained forward while he continued to pet your head, allowing you time to come back down. 
“Are you ok?”, he asked in a tone you had never heard from him before. He sounded almost…afraid. Lifting your head, your palm reaches for his cheek and turns his face so his eyes can meet yours. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cross a line. I didn’t mean to…hurt you.”
Placing your forehead on his, he sighs as your fingertips run along the slight stubble over his chin and up to his lips. 
“I don’t mind you hurting me.”
“You’re not supposed to lie to me, baby girl, remember?”, he smirks as a breathy laugh escapes his chest. “You like when I’m rough with you in bed. You like pushing me to rile me up just like I do with you to see if you will because I know you’re a fucking brat.”
Steve’s grin grows as you blush, knowing he’s telling the truth. 
“The problem is you and I don’t know where the line is. It always seeped out into our day to day and into my insecurities. That’s what you don’t like. You don’t like me using you and breaking your heart. Just like I don’t like watching you cry. Not like this anyway.”
Lifting you into his arms, he carried you back to his bedroom and into the bathroom where you marveled at his massive clawfoot tub. After getting the bath ready, he holds your hand as he guides you but you pause before you sit. 
“Will you sit with me, Daddy?”
“Yeah, honey, I can do that.”
After waiting patiently for him to disrobe, you allow him to climb in behind you and take a seat as you lean against his chest. His large palms run along your shoulders and down your arms making you sigh as you tilt back to kiss his cheek. 
“You were always enough for me, Steve Harrington.” His eyes meet your own as you continue. “The problem was I was never enough for you.”
“Y/N, I’m moving to New York.” Your eyes widen as move away from him and scan his face for lies. “I was only supposed to be here for this project and then run the company as a whole from over there. I…I never expected to see you again. I…”, he pauses as he tries to collect his thoughts. “I want you to come with me.”
“Steve…I can’t…”
“Yes you can. I feel like we can work on this if we can be together. I know we can learn the line and just keep this in the bedroom without going too far and being toxic.”
“We had so many more problems than you being jealous and screaming things at me.”
“Y/N, I don’t want anyone else. I’m not the same guy I was. I won’t cheat. I won’t hurt you. I’ll claim you… I DO claim you. You’re mine, baby.”
“You just told me an hour ago that I’m just the girl you fuck and I should get the fuck out of your house.”
“I’m not perfect. Truth be told, like you said, I AM afraid of losing you again so I lashed out. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“I don’t believe you.”, you whisper. 
“Then why are you here?”
“You said—”
“No. You’re your own woman with your own free will. You still could have gone home. You still love me and I love you, sweetheart…so fucking much.”
His arms wrapped around you, hugging you to him as you began to disassociate. You did still love him; you always had even after you left but you left for a reason. You stayed away for a reason. If you and he were having this discussion 5 years ago you would know immediately that he was just doing whatever he could to appease you without really hearing you and hurt you again a few weeks later. What killed you was if this was 5 years ago and he said he was moving you would have said yes without thinking. 
Now you were overthinking and fear was taking over. 
What if things just went back to the way they were? He seems sincere but a lot of his behavior has been the same. But he said he wanted to work on that and with me. Steve said he was finally ready to claim me and that he loved me…
But what about Jacob? He’s been such a caring and patient good man. I can’t hurt him like this especially if there’s a chance Steve could hurt me again. 
You should have voiced your concerns to him and talked about it like adults. You should have sat on his couch and heard out his plans for success when it came to your relationship together. You should have listened and expressed everything you needed to but you didn’t.
“You knew what this was…”
Steve’s entire demeanor stiffened as you whispered the words he screamed at you the night before you left. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t quite catch that. Do you have the balls to say it louder?”
Rising to your feet, you grabbed a nearby towel, wincing when it grazed your behind as you wrapped it around your body.
“I said you knew what this was. It’s not my fault you caught feelings.”
He laughed to himself as he climbed out of the tub allowing the water to drench his bathroom as he headed for the bedroom. 
“Keeping going, honey. But really twist the knife and make it hurt. That’s what it will take for what you’re doing to work.” Grabbing your clothes off the floor, he tossed them in your direction as your eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to hurt me, right? To push me away because you’re scared of actually taking that leap and giving me a chance?”
Your glassy eyes shifted away from him as you threw your shirt over your head and pulled on your underwear. 
“Because that’s what I did.” You froze as he continued, slowly moving your way as he spoke. “Why do you think I fucked Lori that night? Y/N, you told me you loved me and it scared the hell out of me. I was a popular, rich, Harrington… I was supposed to become my father. I was supposed to cheat, run a business, and make a ton of money by any means necessary.”
Stopping at your side, his fingers gripped your chin forcing you to turn and look at him. 
“All I wanted to do was run away with you… but I panicked and hurt you instead causing you to run away without me. Y/N, I knew I fucked up when I climbed through your window and you were gone. I lost the one person that actually gave a damn about me and who I genuinely cared about. I’d like another chance and I promise you won’t regret it.”
“I already do.”, you murmured as you buttoned your jeans and began walking down his stairs towards his front door.
“Oh, Y/N?”, he called nonchalantly.
“What, Steven!?”, you shout as you glare up at his still naked frame leaning over the second-floor banister. 
“You forgot your phone.”, he says calmly flashing you the screen that was currently illuminating a picture of you and your boyfriend as his call came through. Panic flowed through your entire body as his thumb moved the green dot. 
“Y/N’s phone, this is Steve Harrington.”
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@daysinthephoenix @sophiejayne-illustrations713 @livosssblog
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darknight3904 · 10 months
Text
The Stars
Masterlist / Main Masterlist
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Asgard 2013
Warnings: Loki's dirty thoughts about  Astri, Loki talking about his life with Thanos.
For someone who had been locked up for weeks, Loki looked a little too desirable. His deep voice was soothing as he read the book he had chosen for tonight. Astri had long ago stopped focusing on the words and was admiring him through the yellow barrier that separated them. His hair was a bit curlier today than it had been yesterday, Astri wondered if he had done it like that on purpose. The green leather and golden armor he normally donned was gone and in its place was a softer more comfortable-looking outfit, perfect for the lounging that took up his days.
   "You aren't listening," Loki said suddenly
   "Sure I am." She lied
   "I chose a romance book because I thought you'd enjoy it." Loki sighed
   "And why would I enjoy a romance book?" Astri asked
   "I thought most females enjoyed romance books." He reasoned
   "How stereotypical of you, Loki." Astri smiled
   "Well if you don't want to read what do you want to do? Our options are limited given I'm stuck in here." He said, snapping the book shut
Astri thought about what they could do with Loki stuck in a cell. The idea of trying to push her way through the golden barrier crossed her mind, sure her magic might be strong enough but was Odin's rath worth it? Astri wasn't quite sure. 
   "How about we just sit and talk?" Astri suggested 
She took Loki's silence as agreement and began the conversation. 
   "What do miss now that you're stuck here?" 
   "Everything," Loki admitted 
   "If you had to pick one thing," Astri said
   "I guess I'd choose...the stars. It was always peaceful looking out my balcony at night when the stars shone. I wish I could experience it again." He chose 
   "Interesting choice." Astri complimented, standing up
   "Where are you going?" Loki asked 
   "To my chambers. I'll see you another time." She explained as she walked away 
She could hear Loki scampering to find a reason for her to stay longer, even offering to never choose a romance book again for them to read together. Astri was glad that he had chosen something simple for her to bring to him, had he chosen something like conquering Midgard that would have made her idea much harder. Now, all she had to do was figure out how to get through that damn gold barrier.
Loki didn't see Astri for the rest of the week, the only signal that she wasn't angry with him was the romance book she had sent to him via a guard who had handed him a note to go with it. 
Thor's lady, Jane, says men who read romance books are hopeless romantics themselves. 
Was he a hopeless romantic? Surely not. They were just means of entertainment for him after all he had a higher purpose that he'd someday fulfill. Astri's analysis was wrong. Speaking of Astri, where the hell was she? She had said she'd see him again but didn't give a date or a time and it was driving him mad. The only other real interaction he'd had since she left earlier this week was with Frigga who projected herself to his cell. Sure, it felt like she was close to him but it hurt when he'd try to reach for her only for his hands to slip right through. Loki loved Frigga deeply but he yearned for Astri's sharp remarks and how she'd immediately call him on his lies. 
He wondered what she'd be wearing the next time she entered the dungeons. Perhaps a lilac dress? She had been in a pale pink the last time they spoke. Of course, he'd love if she wore the blue one she had that had white lace embroidered on it, that one was his favorite. The way it accentuated what she thought was hidden so well under the fabric was perfectly sinful. Astri's figure had been on Loki's mind a lot recently. Initially, he thought it was because of being stuck here and the fact that she was going through his mind at night. But it had continued the entire week and he hadn't seen her at all. Sure, it could have been her going through his mind but that didn't explain why he thought of her even during the day. He'd spend time reading or drawing and find his mind wandering to her what her lips would taste like. He had smelled the stuff she put on them once, it smelled like fruits, would she taste like it too? Loki's mind spiraled more as he wondered what she'd look like if he slipped his hand up her skirt and into the apex between her thighs. He'd love to pin her down on the bed he was sitting on now and press his face between those same thighs until she screamed from overstimulation. He wondered about what she'd look like above him, gasping in pleasure as she took what had always been hers.  Loki wanted to be able to press a kiss to every inch of Astri's body and yet here he sat, imprisoned while she flitted about in the castle about him.
   "Good, you're still awake." 
Astri. Finally, she showed. Loki's hands fumbled with the pillow beside him as he placed it quickly over his lap. It was so late what was she doing down here now? 
   "Well don't be shy, get up and greet me properly." She commanded 
Loki eyed her arms which were overflowing with a bundled-up blanket and a big wicker basket. Ordinarily, he would've risen to greet her but his half-hard cock wasn't something she'd want greeting her so he stayed put. 
   "Fine, be rude." Astri huffed, pushing the blanket and basket through the small weakness in the yellow shield that was meant for delivering his meals. "You'll be thanking be after this." 
Loki's eyes widened as Astri's closed. A soft blue hue covered her body as she took a step towards the shield. 
   "What are you doing? The guards will-" Loki stopped his words as Astri phased right through what was penning him in. "When did you learn to do that?" 
   "What do you think I've been spending my week doing?" She smiled crossing the cell to get to him 
Loki wasn't expecting a warm hug but he welcomed it anyway. 
   "I can't believe you tried conquering Midgard," Astri said pulling away and giving him a hard shove 
No sooner had he opened his mouth to explain his glorious purpose than Astri had slapped her hand over it, shutting him up entirely. 
   "You can talk about glorious purpose later. I have a surprise." She smiled, turning around and laying the blanket on the ground. 
   "What are you doing? You do realize this is a dungeon...how did you get past the guards?" He asked suddenly curious 
   "A cloaking spell." She smiled and began unpacking her basket which as it turned out was full of food. 
   "So you're here to have a midnight picnic with me?" Loki asked finally standing up 
   "No, silly. You said you missed the stars, so I brought them here." Astri smiled pulling him down on the blanket with her. 
Loki decided to indulge her desires and got comfortable beside her. His hand reached for a grape as Astri snapped her fingers beside him. The area around them dimmed and the ceiling of the once bleak cell was transformed into a brilliant light show. The other cells disappeared as Astri's magic took over and seemingly wrapped them in their own little bubble. The stars twinkled and danced in front of Loki's eyes as he observed what she had done for him.
   "Do you like it? I know it's not the stars from your balcony but it's the best I can do right now." She said
   "I love it." He smiled, looking at her 
   "Good...I also brought some food." Astri awkwardly pointed out
   "Yes, I see, thank you. " He said genuinely 
They sat in awkward silence as Loki tried to think of something to say to the girl next to him. This was the first time they had been physically in front of each other in weeks. His hands itched to take hers in them, they looked impossibly small as she picked at the skin beside her nails. 
   "What the hell were you thinking?" Astri asked suddenly 
   "I bed your pardon?" Loki asked, confused. 
   "You knocked me out, destroyed Joutunheim, then let go and fell who knows where after Odin woke up and tried to help you and Thor." She explained 
   "Is that what they told you happened?" He laughed 
   "Yes. I want an explanation, now." She demanded, reaching to poke at his ribs, an oddly ticklish spot for him 
   "There was no point in staying behind. There still isn't anything for me here on Asgard, my rotting in this dungeon proves it. I have never and will never be essential to the house of Odin." He said 
   "Nothing here for him he says." Astri sighed "What about me? Or Frigga? During the year you were off gathering an army did you ever think about what we were feeling?" 
Loki felt his anger boiling in his stomach. Did Astri think he was off galavanting across the galaxy, feasting war generals so he could use their troops to win Midgard? 
   "Do you honestly think I was living my best possible life after I left here? What do you think I was doing all that time?" He snarled, upset that Astri was only talking about her and his 'mother'. 
   "I've wondered every night what you were doing where you were but you never speak of it." Astri said 
She had him there. 
   "Have you ever heard the name Thanos?" Loki asked, he felt his hands shaking. Why is he telling her this? Stop it. Send her away, yell at her to go back to her room, and push her away. 
   "I've heard it, in whispers from travelers and reports from across the galaxy, Odin has mentioned him." She said, Loki could feel her eyes on him, his gaze cast at his lap. 
   "After I let go I ended up in a place called the Sanctuary. I met Thanos there. He offered me control of Midgard in return for the Tesseract." He said shakily. 
   "What more? Months after you went missing, I kept trying to find you, and one night I did, or I think I did. You were suffering heat or something was being used." Astri said gently brushing her hand along his shoulder. 
   "He uh...He, Thanos used a tremendous amount of heat to buy my submission." Loki said, shutting his eyes. "Frost Giants can burn as it turns out." 
Loki felt Astri's hand rubbing at his back and her chin resting on his shoulder. 
   "After I had submitted to his whims, he used the Mind Stone, one of the Infinity Stones to do his bidding. After that, he sent me to Midgard, Infinity stone in hand." He said, "It remains there, those Avengers have it." 
Loki heard Astri let out a soft hum of confirmation next to him. Minutes passed and Loki dared open his eyes when he felt Astri shift beside him. 
   "I want you to know something, Loki." Astri said hooking a finger under his chin so he'd look at her "You are good. You always have been even if can't see it. 
Their noses brushed as Loki's eyes fluttered shut again. He felt hot tears run down his face at Astri's words. Damn it why did he always cry when he wanted to express emotion? 
   "Thank you, Astri. I don't feel that way, though." Loki said his eyes opening to meet Astri's whose face was close to his. 
   "You will. One day." She reassured 
Astri was indescribably warm as she pressed her forehead to his. Their breaths mingled as Loki took her hands in his. 
   "I missed you. There wasn't anyone to read with or joke with." She admitted 
   "You could have with Fandral." Loki smiled 
   "Oh please, Fandral reading?" Astri scoffed 
   "True, I think he'd rather chop off his right arm than pick up a book," Loki said, sitting up and pulling away from her slightly. 
Astri's hands broke from his, and she grabbed at his shirt, pulling back towards her. 
   "Wait." She murmured 
   "What is it?" Loki asked 
Astri's face grew redder the more Loki looked at her. 
   "Don't you have something to say? You told me to wait." He teased 
   "I just..." 
Come on, say what's going through that pretty head. 
   "I like it when you're close to me." She whispered as if it were a secret.
   "I it like when you're close too," Loki admitted, reaching out and twirling a strand of  her hair around his finger 
Astri let out an amused giggle and leaned closer. 
   "Guess I should stay nearby then." 
Loki had no complaints about that statement and nodded in agreement. Astri's scent invaded his nose, it was exactly as he remembered. Fruity yet flowery at the same time, and yet it wasn't too overpowering. He watched as her tongue appeared, slightly wetting her lips, it was like she was trying to tempt him into touching her. 
   "What're you thinking about?" Astri asked 
   "You," Loki said 
Astri barely had enough time to crack a smile at his admission. Loki knew what was next, a smart comment about how she was always dancing around in his mind. So, he stopped it in what he thought was the cleverest way possible and brushed his lips on hers. They tasted of fruit just like he had imagined for so many years. Astri had let out a small squeak of surprise when Loki had leaned in but now, he felt her smiling into their kiss. Smaller arms wrapped around his shoulders as she let out a laugh, breaking away for air. 
   "What was that?" She breathlessly asked 
   "You said you liked it when I was close." He said a wide smile on his face. 
Astri tossed her head back with a laugh and Loki felt his own laugh bubbling up through his stomach and out his mouth. He felt Astri's hands playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, her nimble fingers pushed through his dark strands and a shudder ran down his spine. Their lips met again, this time with Astri initiating. Loki gently cupped her face as he felt her invade all of his senses, her presence was casting an unbreakable spell on him and he gladly welcomed it with open arms, after all, it was all he could ever dream of. 
Hehe first kiss for Loki and Astri. 
I am having Coriolanus Snow brain rot. Tom Blythe is one sexy mf. 
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igglemouse · 1 month
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It's only the first trimester but this pregnancy thing is already a bit rough, at least more than I imagined. I never expected it to be easy but I do get tired of having to run to the bathroom. Yeaaa, lets not talk about that!
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Instead lets talk about waffles, more specifically, chicken and waffles! My appetite has definitely started to change as I find myself more likely to completely clean a plate but I don't think I've had any specific cravings yet? I mean, right now I'm craving golden waffles and slightly crisp fried chicken drenched in sweet syrup, does that count?
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Naturally the scent of waffles wafting waffly through the house is enough to draw Pascal down to the kitchen. I'm pretty sure waffles are his favorite food and the way he lights up before digging into them tells me that I might be right.
He takes a few bites, makes a groan of approval, then turns his attention to me, a bit of concern on his face. "You okay?" He asks with his mouth half full. "You spent a lot of time in the restroom this morning and-"
"Yeaaah, just one of those things I guess?" I say trying to pass it off casually. The constant nausea is common during pregnancy, right? Probably nothing. "It'll be okay!"
"Yeah," he mumbles, getting right back to his meal.
That reminds me, Pascal hasn't really talked much about this whole 'we're going to be parents' thing too much and by too much I mean not really at all? He's told me that he'll be there for the baby and for me and that matters but I do wish he was a little more involved.
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I think he saves most of his enthusiasm for mud baths. It's a ritual for him, I think. I can understand why, it can be very relaxing sinking yourself into a puddle of earthy mud and letting the world melt away. I understand he kicks a ball around for a living but it does take a lot out of him. Athletes really push their bodies past limits. It must be a ritual of his at this point.
As for me, I find my own way to unwind. Grooving to Latin pop, the infectious beats fill the room and gets my feet to move but not too much. Sure would hate to trip or something buuut I'm hoping my little one is vibing to the music too!
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Doing laundry isn't in any way more fun than dancing but it has to get done. Even if the sun is bearing down on you, making you sweat, and...why doesn't Pascal have a washer and dryer again?
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But I wasn't going to spend my entire day under the sun, especially when Sara decided to drop by again. She's been coming over more and more lately, I don't mind, but as I've mentioned before she's a bit nosy. Always asking questions and trying to pry, just a touch annoying actually, but there's something endearing to it? It's almost like little sister energy, if that makes sense? Maybe that's just me wishing I had a little sister.
She does remind me of an old friend I had back home, in Selva. A softer version of her, a less confident version of her, but a version of her all the same. Candela was her name but that's a story for another day.
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As soon as we sit down Sara dives right into the topic of Pascal. Completely expected, remember, she's the nosy prying type after all but I decided to turn the tables back on her and ask her about her own love life.
"Umm, remember, I'm not so fortunate," her reply is hesitant and her voice cracks a little, letting me know this is more of a sensitive topic for her.
"Sara, you're way too hard on yourself! I know you've had some luck-"
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"What's luck if I'm sitting here single," she interrupts, set on putting herself down I guess.
"Sara, you're young, we all are," I say, wanting to defend her from herself. "It's really not that big of a deal being single. Sometimes, it's better than being stuck with someone that's abusive."
"Yeah...well, for now, I'll live vicariously through your relationship so lets hear about it." The smile on her face is forced but I agree. I don't want to force her to talk about her.
So I tell her about Pascal and me but there really isn't any excitement because there isn't much to go on about? We are just sort of...living together? No big adventures or vacations, nothing overly romantic, we've just been sharing a space and going through life day by day I guess.
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"You're going to have to pull him off the pitch long enough for you two to do more together," Sara suggests. It's a good idea. The SPL, which stands for Sims Premier League, has an offseason doesn't it?
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After Sara leaves the house feels a little quieter. That's alright because I'll always have ice cream! It's the sort of thing that can bring joy to any evening and so I step right over to the kitchen and pull out my nifty ice cream making machine and make me a bowl of it. because, why not? Feels like a butter pecan kind of day to me and it's feeling like I'll be needing two bowls!
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One thing I think I have to consider when it comes to living with Pascal is that I've been doing most of the chores. Whether its scrubbing countertops or washing the dishes or doing laundry out in near 100 degree heat, it's me doing it all and here I am vacuuming so that we're not inhaling dust. Makes me wonder how he was keeping this place clean before me? I'd ask Pascal to do it for tonight but...
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The mechanical whir of the treadmill and the pounding of his feet had told me he was busy. I quietly slipped inside of his workout room, which, now that I think about it, looks like it would be better suited for a child but maybe that's a discussion for another day.
I have to squeal out a hello to get his attention and once I do; "Does the offer still stand?" I ask, voice raised to be heard of the rhythm of his workout.
"Huh?" He kinda shouts back, a little out of breath.
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"Moving in, does it still stand?" and I shout right back.
"O-oh! Yeah! Of course! Of course it does!" He stammers back and gives me a smile. I'll leave him alone for now I guess.
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So yeah, it looks like I've mad my decision or rather, fate has made it for me.
I do have some concerns but that's expected, right? No one is perfect.
Honestly, if I were not pregnant with his child I do not think I would have made this decision but now that I am I want to do everything right. That includes raising a child the usual way. Mother, father, a house, a family, that kind of thing. It's at least worth a try, it's more than what was done for me growing up.
I'll miss this place. I wasn't here for long but that's the story of my life. I don't tend to stay in places for too long. The universe always nudges me on to my next chapter and on to the next episode..
Frida Varela Index ~ Next Episode 6 'Familiar Connections'
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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 10 days
Text
A race for love p.4
Hii guyss, I'm so happy that Franco and Ollie were able to win some points today :) If you've missed part 3 here it is.
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- Austrian Grand Prix 2023 -
The days leading up to Sunday are a whirlwind of activity at the Austrian Grand Prix. Although you don't get to see Franco or Oliver in person, you and Franco haven't stopped messaging each other. Every free moment you get, your phone buzzes with a new text from him. Each message is friendlier, funnier, and sometimes even a little flirty, making your heart race with excitement.
The playful banter continues over the next few days, filled with inside jokes, teasing, and a growing connection that feels deeper with every exchange. You find yourself smiling whenever you see his name pop up on your screen, your stomach fluttering with anticipation each time.
By Sunday morning, the excitement in the air is palpable. It's race day, and the paddock is alive with energy. You make your way to the F2 and F3 paddock, eager to wish Franco good luck before his race. As you approach his garage, you see him standing with a few of his team members, going over last-minute strategies.
Spotting you, Franco's face lights up, and he quickly excuses himself, making his way over to you. "Y/N!" he exclaims, looking genuinely happy to see you. "You made it!" "Of course," you say with a smile. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." He grins, his eyes twinkling with that familiar playful glint. "I'm glad. I need all the luck I can get." You roll your eyes, laughing. "Like you need luck. You're going to do amazing, I just know it." Franco steps closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "Thanks, Y/N. It means a lot to have you here. Really." You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at the sincerity in his voice. "I'm happy to be here," you say softly. "And I'll be cheering for you the whole time." A mischievous smile tugs at Franco's lips. "Just cheering? Not throwing roses onto the track when I win?" You laugh, shaking your head. "No promises. But I might consider it." He chuckles, reaching out to lightly touch your arm. "I'll hold you to that."
The two of you stand there for a moment, the noise and chaos of the paddock fading into the background. You can feel the warmth of his hand on your arm, the closeness of him sending your heart racing.
"Well, I should let you get back to your team," you say, reluctantly stepping back. "Don't want to distract you too much." "Too late for that," Franco teases, his smile widening. "But seriously, thank you for coming by. It really does mean a lot." You nod, feeling a surge of affection for him. "Good luck, Franco. You're going to do great."
Before you can second-guess yourself, you lean in and plant a quick kiss on his cheek. It's a small gesture, but the moment your lips touch his skin, you feel a spark of something electric pass between you. Franco's eyes widen in surprise, his cheeks flushing a deep red. For a split second, he looks almost stunned, and then a slow, delighted grin spreads across his face. "I think that's the best good luck charm I've ever gotten," he says, looking at you with a new intensity. You laugh, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "Just win the race, Franco." "I'll do my best," he promises, his gaze still locked on yours. "Especially now that I have something to win for." You give him one last smile before turning to leave, your heart pounding in your chest.
You head to the paddock to watch the F3 race. The atmosphere is electric, with engines roaring and fans cheering. You find a good spot, eager to see how Franco will perform.
The race is intense, and you watch Franco skillfully navigate the track. He pushes hard, climbing up the positions, but ultimately finishes fourth, just shy of a podium. You feel a mix of pride and a bit of disappointment for him, knowing he gave it his all.
As the F3 cars leave the track, you decide to stick around and watch the F2 race. You're waiting near the paddock, lost in thought about Franco's performance when you spot Oliver walking toward you. He's in his racing gear, looking focused but cheerful.
"Y/N!" Oliver calls out, smiling as he approaches. "Didn't expect to see you here." "Hey, Oliver!" you reply, matching his smile. "I was just watching the F3 race. Franco did pretty well." Oliver's expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he quickly recovers. "Yeah, I heard it was a good race," he says with a polite nod. "How do you know Franco?" "Oh, we met in the paddock in Barcelona," you explain, keeping your tone casual. "We've kept in touch since then." Oliver raises an eyebrow, curious. "So, are you two friends?" You hesitate, not entirely sure how to define your relationship with Franco. "I guess… yeah, we're friends," you say, though the uncertainty in your voice is hard to miss. "Or something like that." Oliver smiles, sensing your hesitation. "Sounds complicated," he teases gently, his tone light. You laugh softly, relieved by his playful approach. "Maybe a little." "Well, I'm glad you're here," Oliver says sincerely, his eyes meeting yours. "It's nice to have someone rooting for me." "Of course," you reply, feeling your cheeks warm. "I'm sure you'll do great out there." Oliver's smile widens, his eyes brightening. "Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot." He glances back at his team, who are busy preparing for the race. "I should probably get ready, but I'll see you after?" "Yeah, I'll be here," you promise, giving him an encouraging smile. "Good luck, Oliver." "Thanks," he says, flashing you one last grin before heading back to his team.
As you watch him walk away, Oliver's question lingers in your mind. Are you just friends? You can't help but wonder where you truly stand with both Franco and Oliver. Is this the beginning of a friendship with each of them, or is there something more beneath the surface? The uncertainty leaves you questioning your feelings and what this weekend might reveal.
Here's part 5
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unhappy-day-in-hell · 8 months
Text
The Dissection of Hazbin Hotel, Episode One: part 4
Onto the end part, Charlie meeting with the angels and... Vaggie's advertisement.
Let's finish this!
Part 1:
Part 2:
Part 3:
Part 4: //
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--Uh. The fuck is this building and why is it in Hell? Are we not going to explain? (Trick question, there’s already so much exposition that it wraps right back around to leaving us in the dark!!)
--Ohhh. That's Adam’s voice? Someone as important as him does not sound like that.
...Stupid thought I just had: Adam has the first Adam's Apple in all of history too... because it's that little saying, that Adam got a piece of the forbidden fruit stuck in his throat to remind him of eating it. So Adam, really, should either sound like he's constantly choking on something/has a stuffed up scratchy throat, or he should have a super deep voice to indicate his adam's apple.
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--Heck is wrong with your mouth girl?
--B Plot is them filming an advertisement. I know I tried to re-write this in the review earlier (and will offer an alternative near the end of the review), but this is the kind of smaller-time plot we need to do in these early episodes BEFORE we get to Charlie's stuff. It's not very good tonal whiplash to pair these two plots up.
Also Vaggie’s doing this on Charlie’s behalf. This is, once again, something Charlie should be doing.
--Why doesn’t Charlie know the leader of the Exterminators is Adam? Does that mean she doesn’t know anything important about her world in general? Or is Adam’s presence a secret to the world? Does Lucifer know Adam is here?
--Good god, Adam really IS just Mammon. He's even a performer who is like a rockstar. Viv has zero new ideas.
--We're cutting between Charlie’s "important" meeting with Adam and the filming for the advertisement. We really are. I guess this episode and Western Energy spring from the same source.
--“How were you this weekend” is at least a little amusing. If Adam was more airheaded like that and not *gestures* all this, I’d probably hate his presence less.
--There it is. The Vagina joke for Vaggie’s name. They… they really did that. They just couldn’t help themselves. Viv just can’t help herself.
Because really, what are you supposed to do with this name? People having to say “Vaggie” out loud or print it on merch is embarrassing. They could have called her anything. Maggie. Aggie. Naggie. Saggy. Haggy.
--Vaggie: We’ll fix it in post. Angel: Do you even know what that means?
Well you see Angel! Vaggie’s origin can be split!
For a long time, Vaggie was thought to be a sinner who died very recently, so of course she’d know about editing, because she had grown up in the era of that kind of tech.
Except now she’s been changed to be a fallen exterminator! This means there are a lot of implications. Are we going to use this moment to hint how ANCIENT Vaggie is as a former angel, by showing her as not knowing how to work technology? No, no of course not -- Vaggie seems competent with the camera, it’s just that her actors are dumb fucks.
This criticism spreads over to Adam, who talks just like a “normal guy” and he’s a modern rocker and all that shit. Adam, the first human, who is incomprehensibly ancient… doesn’t show any signs of being as ancient as he is. They couldn't even write him using outdated slang? Make him a disco lover or something and have him say "Groovy?" No? (He IS a thing made of light, he could shine like a disco ball!)
--Vaggie: I’LL FIGURE IT OUT.
Godddd Vaggie can’t have one single line with any life in it. How does she scream in anger with no anger.
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--Hi Al. This shot reminds me of why I used to like you, because I DID like your design and your mannerisms once upon a time. I still feel an echo of the enjoyment I used to get from you, and it makes me sad how far you’ve fallen, to being Rosie’s lapdog. You do look good with this muted blue tinting your color scheme. I wish Hell was more of this color, it’s much softer on the eyes.
(Even when I was still a fan, I hated how overused red was. It was one of the first complaints I had. Then the show doubled down and removed even more of the colors from the color pallet to make it even redder.)
--Vaggie to Alastor: Why are you even here? Alastor: For the entertainment!
Actually you’re here because LilithRosie asked you to. She filed down your fangs. You are a toothless character.
--Alastor: I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly!
This is almost exactly a line from the Pilot where Alastor said “I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment! Only to repeatedly trip, and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure." Except it just. Lacks. Any of the danger. Or the manic insanity boiling just under Alastor’s surface. The delivery is so deflated.
The words are stilted, like they were with Vaggie a while back.
--Much better qualified people than I have spoken about the use of vodou symbols around Alastor. All I can say is this: Practitioners of vodou have spoken about how harmful it is, and therefore, the symbols should not be in the show. It's that simple. It would have cost the team literally nothing to refrain from using them. In fact, we’re in Hell, and we’ve already used the Ars Goetia in Helluva Boss; why don’t they use the symbols of the Ars Goetia? Or other demonic Christian symbols? Or Lovecraftian symbols from the fictional Lovecraft universe? Or make up their own??? There were a million other options besides digging in your heels. It shows the crew and Viv’s inability to just learn or just be nice.
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“This face was made for radio!” that shot, bleck, they made a discount of that scary shot from the pilot. Why is every line they reuse for Alastor worse than it was in the pilot? The pilot where Alastor said “I would have done so already” let Alastor be a little aggressive and threatening, but here, it's just him equating it to “this face can’t be captured on video” instead of him being allowed to flex his power and scare Vaggie and Charlie a little bit….
It makes me sad.
--AND AGAIN, THIS IS VAGGIE HAVING THIS IMPORTANT CONVERSATION WITH ALASTOR. Why is it Vaggie who is getting Alastor’s motivation speech and seeing his Scary Face and not CHARLIE!? The Hotel is CHARLIE’S! Charlie is the main character, she’s the one who has to face these moral battles! Alastor’s motivation and his scorn for her Hotel are CHARLIE’S obstacles to deal with; she has to be the one to face them, consider them, debate them, and find a way to overcome them. But Vaggie is the one here, again, in Charlie’s place. (And Vaggie doesn’t even seem to have any enjoyment or passion for the Hotel either, so SHE doesn’t offer anything in return when she’s facing these opposing ideas.)
--So Alastor is going to make a good advertisement for the Hazbin Hotel, in exchange for never having to work with television ever again.
God, it’s so… WHINY. This isn’t a powerful Overlord of Hell, who is able to manipulate the Hotel behind the scenes and everyone has to watch out for his power because they both need his power but also fear it. This is a dude bargaining over what chores he has to do. It’s depressing.
--And it ends with Alastor giving everyone new outfits. Like the pilot. Because of course. Viv has no new ideas in her head at all. Also Charlie's not here.
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--I feel like this scene COULD have been a standout moment in another universe, where someone else wrote this story. The colors are very nice, and Alastor is genuinely one of the only sources of ANYTHING you might consider fun in this episode, even if he’s a pale shadow of what he used to be.
Imagine this as a rewrite for this Episode, and how it could have ended:
At the beginning of the episode, the Hotel staff is still figuring things out. They have a meeting and decide they want to make an advertisement to get people to come to the Hotel, but Al refused to take part, because he hates TV. Charlie then tries to film her own advertisement with Vaggie’s help, but fails to make anything good.
As she starts feeling discouraged in the blue room while cutting up tapes, Alastor walks in to taunt her for a little while. After a back and forth where Charlie asks what he even wants here, he gives his motivation speech, so Charlie can have her goal challenged. But eventually, Charlie asks him to use his power to help her with this, by getting the word out to the people of Hell; and Al agrees, because an empty Hotel is no fun… in exchange for something Al wants: he’ll be allowed to observe any part of the Hotel and give commentary over it whenever he feels like it, and he’s allowed to say anything he wants, positive or negative. Charlie reluctantly agrees to these terms.
Then Alastor uses his power and creates a huge radio tower out of the back of the Hotel. The rest of the Crew feel the Hotel shaking and run outside, and watch in confusion as the tower reaches up into the sky. Al then floats up to the top room, where an old radio station is set up inside. Taking his seat in the booth, Alastor uses his power to broadcasts a spectacular old-timey radio show all across the radio waves of Hell, which are impossible for people to turn off, so it reaches millions of them.
(This also marks his grand return to Hell after his time away…… I guess. Since they're going with that.)
Boom, now Alastor has a radio tower that he hangs out in for the rest of the series, and he’s often giving SCATHING commentary about what goes on inside the Hotel in its quest for redemption. It’s usually making fun of everyone, or damning criticism -- but every so often he compliments something or someone, or gives a bravo for a job well done if a character does manage to accomplish something (but it's always with this HINT that he doesn’t expect their victory to last.)
There.
I provided a better hook for Episode One to end on, something fun to look at -- AND it has Alastor being in total control, while still helping the Hotel, but clearly primed to fuck with it. It also gives the show its first stakes -- small ones, but a status quo is established and we know Charlie will be butting heads with Alastor for the foreseeable future.
--Back with Adam and Charlie, it has become an argument that sinners have earned eternal damnation by making mistakes, and angels and the souls in heaven are not the same; and that angels have never made mistakes. Adam even says he’s never made a mistake.
Why doesn’t Charlie bring up the fact that Adam ate the fruit of knowledge that damned humanity, literally the first sin ever committed alongside Eve? Would that require too much thought, because Adam could just say “hey Eve was the one who did that, then she forced me!” and Charlie would have no rebuttal, because this show doesn’t seem to care about logical or moral battles. (Honestly, I can bet Viv would genuinely believe that for Adam.)
Why don’t they also bring up the fact that all human souls are descended from Adam too? It would force Adam to say: “yeah I don’t care, they may be my grandkids but they made their choice and as the original father it’s my job to whoop their asses when they get out of line,” which would show off how horrible he is. (Or, just not have Adam act this way. The next point elaborates on that:)
--I keep asking myself WHY Heaven and the angels have to be depicted this way. Not "why they’re corrupt" -- but why they’re *gestures vaguely* like this, and so cartoonishly.
Some shows take themselves too seriously and need to lighten up, but a show like Hazbin Hotel has the opposite problem, where it won’t be serious when it needs to be serious.
Adam acts exactly like a demon. There is no distinction between demons and angels. They’re as foul-mouthed, raunchy, and gross. Why?
Is it supposed to be “commentary” or “satire” about real world issues, where authority/radical Christians think they’re better than everyone else just by virtue of being Christian? That’s my first guess.
But just like with Helluva Boss’s commentary on cartoonishly evil abusers: it’s not saying anything we don’t already know, and it hits you with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the face.
When Hazbin uses Adam to say “See? Heaven is hypocritical! It does the exact same bad shit as Hell, but gives ITSELF a pass!” it makes Hazbin Hotel worse for it, because of how one-note it makes literally everything in the universe, and how it sacrifices any actual clever worldbuilding, storycrafting, or realism for the sake of shock value. 
Hazbin Hotel is supposed to have a serious storyline meant for adults. It was meant to explore a serious moral question, and the angels are supposed to be one of the serious threats that Charlie has to change the mind of. You want us to take your show SERIOUSLY? Then you need to make villains we can TAKE seriously.
Think of it like this. If Heaven was allowed to have a different personality from Hell (if angels were allowed to act differently than demons), you’d be so much better for it.
First of all, it would give the show variety. Hell already has all the sex jokes, curses, and gore you could ever ask for – that’s Hell’s atmosphere. So let Heaven have a different atmosphere -- let its people has "serious" personality traits. Let them take themselves TOO seriously. That way, there’s some variety when characters go from one place to the next.
Second of all, it would give you way more personality types to play around with! (How boring must it get, writing the same screaming, cursing, sex-spewing archetypes over and over?) AND it would let different temperaments clash! Imagine Angel Dust meeting an Exterminator; Angel Dust makes everything a joke, and the Exterminator takes everything way too seriously, aaaaaand their personalities slam into each other. Imagine the possibilities.
But we can’t have that.
We can’t have anything because Viv can’t let herself be sincere or think this far ahead.
Instead we’re just stuck with Adam, who is Mammon.
--Lute says Charlie was “pardoned by daddy”? Who?? Lucifer? If Lucifer has the ability to blacklist souls from being killed, why can’t he just tell the exterminators to fuck off? Or are they referring to “God” as daddy, for which, I thought they weren’t going to touch God in this show?
The dialogue for this show is confusing. There was clearly no editing or rewriting to make anything make sense.
In the old pilot continuity, only an angel of higher rank had the ability to kill Lucifer, which means the exterminators were unable to kill him. Charlie, as his daughter, was directly below him in power, meaning Charlie would also be immune to them because she's stronger than them. But here apparently she's weak enough that the exterminators not only COULD kill her if given the chance, they WANT to kill her but have to hold back by some... law.
--Another song. Okay.
My opinion is that Brightman is a good singer, and this song definitely has more going on than the first one did. So… not terrible… but there’s also something missing in these lyrics. The way the music flows isn’t interesting and it goes by so fast. And Adam’s voice isn’t grating or terrible to listen to, but his dumb rockstar voice just kind of clashes into Brightman’s singing voice every so often, and makes it sound weird to me.
I could do without.
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--OOH LAWD SHE ABOUT TO GO OFF. (That meme will never stop being funny. The shot is so tame. She doesn't even get to do any flexing or anything?)
--They’ll be back in six months?? Oh right, ahem, ahem: We’re putting this into EPISODE ONE? (I’m getting tired of saying that.)
Side note: they better not blame Charlie for this one, or try to make it out like she did something to cause this. Because... She literally didn’t. She didn’t get a word in edge-wise. (If they blame Charlie for making Hell worse, not only is it another Potential Dramatic Plot Moment they waste here, where Charlie would legitimately do a fuckup and have to face the consequences of her actions and it’s Oooh Drama -- it’s also totally unearned here, because Charlie Didn’t Do Anything. Literally if this is supposed to be “Charlie’s Mistake”, she didn’t do anything to MAKE A MISTAKE. )
--Alastor: I pulled a few LIMBS too, Hah hah hah!
Now you sound dead Alastor. I miss your fast-paced deranged laughter.
--To hear Blitzo’s voice coming out of Katie. Not even for a joke. I just. Vomit.
--(Quick question, is it just me or does it feel WEIRD to see Hell freaking out about the exterminations happening sooner, the way it is now? I mean, it’s a bad thing of course – but at the same time, it’s 6 WHOLE months away. That’s still a very long time; it’s not like the angels said they’d be coming in 1 WEEK or anything.
And again, moving the Extermination up to the mid-point of the year COULD have been a good plot punch a few episodes in – if the show had established itself as having a one year time limit before the next extermination, for instance, and for the first season we watch the weeks or months go by. The cast think they’re safe because they always have more time; “the year isn’t even half over yet.” But THEN, Charlie fucks up a few months in, and suddenly the date of the extermination is moved up!! WE ONLY HAVE A MONTH LEFT!! SHOCK AND HORROR. THERE IS MUCH LESS TIME NOW. HOW CAN WE DO THIS IN TIME!? PANIC! STAKES! DRAMA.
Makes my poor writer heart sad.
Imagine if we lingered on the Exterminations for a while before all this, and we learn that every single year, it takes about 3 months worth of planning in order for Sinners to secure hiding spots away from the Angels (a play on the three big holidays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas). This is CRITICAL for Sinner survival; those who can't or don't are the ones who die, and spots are so competitive that it takes all that time for anyone to secure themselves. So when Charlie fucks up midway through the year and causes the Extermination to be moved up to just 1 month away, NO ONE IS SAFE, and there isn't enough time for three months of prep, which is why everyone flips their ever-loving shit: they know they're going to die and now there's a hysterical scramble all throughout Hell trying to secure safe spots.
--The ending shot shows an exterminator dead, and the angels out for blood about it.
Again, ahem-hem: EPISODE ONE.
And now, the Exterminators don’t even feel threatening -- because we know they can be killed.
What made the angels scary, originally, is that they were virtually untouchable. Demons could not defeat them, and angels could kill any demon they wanted to by default. (Even Alastor seemed to be weaker than the angels.)
The angels should have been a looming, impossible-to-defeat threat (at least for a while). This would have given the story tension, because the audience would know the sinners stood no chance if they ran out of time or failed to convince the Angels – it was a battle of MORALITY. It was a challenge for sinners to prove to Heaven they were redeemable, because Heaven held all the power.
They de-clawed their villains in their introductory episode.
Do Adam and the Exterminators even HAVE the authority to enact a full genocide??? Wasn’t there a “council of Angel Elders” mentioned in the beginning? Aren’t the exterminators just assigned to this post, and meant to keep the population low??? Won’t they get in trouble for overstepping their bounds!? ARE WE GOING TO GET ANY EXPLANATION AS TO HOW THE HIERARCHY WORKS OR HOW HEAVEN WORKS FIRST!? BEFORE WE GET INTO THIS!?!?
AAAAAAAAAAAAND ~CURTAINS!~
………………………………………………………………………
And that was the end of Hazbin Hotel Episode One.
So! What have we learned here today?
My personal takeaway is that, even though it’s cathartic to see this all start to go down in flames, I still feel disappointed and frustrated because of how much time I invested in it, even defended it to other people for a time. I'm frustrated because none of it had to be this bad. Viv didn't have to be evil. There was promise and potential, once upon a time.
Quite frankly, we were lied to. The premise that everyone fell in love with was dumped in the trash. For over four years, we were told this would be a story about redeeming sinners -- that’s what fans put so much of their time and money into. But that premise was discarded immediately, in favor of a generic War Against Heaven. Viv LIED to us, knowing from the start that the redemption storyline was never going to go anywhere.  
I just wonder how many resources were wasted creating this, how many people Viv hurt, how many opportunities were handed to Viv that could have gone to anyone else more deserving of it.
There wasn’t a single worthwhile thing in this episode. A handful of individual shots here and there were passable, but nothing enough to sit through it. Abysmal animation, pacing, storytelling, dialogue, voices, songs; characters that were flat and unmemorable, or stripped of what made them unique.
Charlie wasn’t the main character in her own show -- Vaggie was the one dealing with the morality of the other characters. (And frankly, Charlie didn’t NEED to meet with Adam. It accomplished nothing. If the angels had already decided to do the extermination in 6 months; they could have just done it, they didn’t necessarily NEED to meet with Charlie to enact it.)
Somehow, Hazbin found a way to do everything wrong!
This show should be taken as a lesson on what not to as an artist. (Any kind of artist, really.) 
In my opinion, the greatest weakness of this show is its inability to write anything sincere.
(And there’s a difference between something having sincere emotion, and melodrama, which Viv dumps in boatloads in her writing.)
I won’t re-write it all, but I basically mean what happened with Adam and the angels, where they aren’t allowed to be any different from the demons. They aren’t allowed to be serious, wise, ancient; because Viv CAN’T write them as sincere. (But this also includes so many other aspects of this show and this world as a whole.)  
(And its genre doesn’t shield it. Hazbin Hotel is trying to tell a STORY, so it doesn’t get to hide behind the genre of being an “episodic adult comedy”. It HAS to follow the rules of storytelling, and when it doesn’t, it is failing.)
And Hazbin Hotel is just one giant failure.
With that, I’ll wrap this up. I think I’ve said all I want to.
I don’t know if I’ll review any other episodes like this (or, if they’ll be this long), because they get worse and worse; and Episode 4 is such a serious, disgusting episode that I don't know if it's even worth it -- but I REALLY wanted to get my thoughts down for this one.
If you read it all, thanks for sticking around! It was fun to rip it apart.
If you have any thoughts you want to add onto this, I’d love to hear!
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yorshie · 8 months
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YOU! *waddles into your inbox and t posts threateningly* I've got a bone to pick with you.
*starts pacing as I proceed to rant* There's a small theme that y'all keep low-key mentioning that I wanted to pick your brain (affectionately) about if that's alright with you.
And that theme is the importance of being soft in special regards to the turtle boys.
I wanted to ask why you think that's important to them? Why is being “soft” considered important? What does it even mean to be soft?
As a lady myself, I've personally always struggled with appreciating and accepting the so called soft parts of myself because I live in a very…intense family where I feel like I have to fight for my voice to be heard. And softness while it isn't necessarily considered a weakness in my home, it isn't exactly a celebrated strength either.
I personally struggle with that because I feel like we need more tenderness in this world. In fact, I will fight hand tooth and nail to defend and encourage the right of others to be soft (especially men) but I feel like that's privilege I can't indulge in because then I would not be taken seriously as an individual and therefore make my argument or statements noid.
So when I read your works about “soft and sweetness being desired” it literally had me stop and think because it was just so surprising me. Like “People want this? People appreciate this?” I was just so intrigued about this line of thought, that I'd very much like to hear your insights in this regard if your up for a physcological anon conversation.
If not, no worries, just know that your work makes me stop and reconsider and I'm very grateful for that! 🧡🙏🏼
Ok. Ok. I'm gonna preemptively tag @desceros and @luckycharms1701 cuz I feel like this ask is aimed at more than just me, but if you guys wanna add your two cents feel free please. Also, I'm gonna stick this underneath a read more tag just cuz it's gonna get long, I can already tell.
first off, I want to say I'm sorry you feel like you wouldn't be taken seriously as a person or judged for being soft. I hope that you can reach a point (if you wish) where you are more comfortable expressing yourself. I agree that we need more tenderness in the world, regardless of the gender of the person expressing it.
Ok, now to delve into "softness" and the turtles especially. I guess I'll start this off by saying a lot of the times when I go on about "soft turtles" or "being soft for them" I don't mean literally. But I do think as humans we are in general soft compared to them. Our skin is softer, we have no shell, no scales, we're a lot more breakable compared to them. We probably feel like little hairy marshmallows to the turtles.
Metaphorically however, is a lot of what I play with when mentioning softness. (Desceros said it perfectly as a metaphor for comfort). But these turtles have had to shun a lot of social interaction. They don't have anyone to really open up to, be that in a platonic fashion or a romantic fashion, and so I personally project a lot of what i desire for them onto them. I want them to have that tenderness, I want them to be able to have someone they can let their guard down around, and so that's why I fixate so much on using my writing to give them that opportunity. They don't get a lot of someone just being nice to them to be nice to them.
It's probably my own love language of being tender to show affection bleeding through as well, but whenever you see my flailing about soft turtles, this is what I mean. I'm just talking about them finally getting to express affection and have it returned, not actually craving something literally "soft". And... well... softness itself is a nice feeling. If you have a really soft blanket, do you like it cuz it's soft? or cuz its comfortable and warm? Kinda just tangles back on itself over and over.
So if I wrote the line about “Raph pressed his beak against your temple, and with a soft sigh you tilted your head upwards to chase the sensation” that’s. So soft. But beyond just being physically soft and tender, there’s the emotional release of leaning against someone (metaphorically or physically) and having them lean back. Having them turn into the comfort. Accepting it.
Yea. That’s what goes through my head. That’s why I’m so obsessed with writing the turtles giving affection and having it received full heartedly. They lead ugly, silent lives. They need a little bit of affection.
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industrations · 10 months
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Hi, may I ask you a question? I know this is probably kind of an unusual ask so feel free to ignore this! But you seem so nice and kind so I thought I might ask you about this...
So lately I keep thinking a lot about gender things. Oh and I am a girl (maybe (as in afab)) and until recently I was convinced that I am very comfortable in my gender. And the thing is, I did think about it. I knew about my sexuality since I was a teenager and I remember thinking about my gender on many occasions and always feeling so sure about it and so comfortable in my body. But also... I've always been kinda scrawny (my friends keep joking that oversized clothes make me look like a 14 year old boy) and then someone told me people go through second puberty and I might get bigger hips in the next years and I would hate that. And then I wondered why, is it just the change or would I genuinely be uncomfortable in a more feminine body?
And now I'm wondering, because why would that come up now?? I mean I am in my early twenties now and I've known about my sexuality for years. But I've also kind of ignored that after realizing it for a while whoops. So it might be happening again. Or maybe it's really just a bit of gender envy and not all that serious?
I think I'm just trying to ask you if you think it's possible that I realize some things late? I'm just so unsure lately and I feel like I can't really ask anyone about this...
So yeah, apologies for sending you that paragraph and I hope you have a nice day!!
Alright so first of I want to say that I am in no means an expert at this. I’m not a therapist and I can’t tell you what you are or what you aren’t feeling. But I can speak from my own experience that things like this are by no means tied to a specific period of time in your life. There’s people that are well into their adult years (and i’m talking 60-70) that are still discovering things about themselves
I’ve spend a long time around people who were telling me what I can and cannot be or what i should be. I was "comfortable" in my gender because I was thought that I should be. And until I actually started talking to people who were going through similar things, I didn’t quite understand that it was not the norm feeling this way about yourself.
Again speaking from my own experience because never let anyone tell you what’s right or wrong for you. There is certain things about being afab i embrace and appreciate even. Things i would miss was i born differently. I love having a softer voice, and more feminine features because those are things that make me me.
But then I have cis girl friends who tell me "oh I wish I had your chest" or "you should be grateful you don’t have as little as me" and I just rather die that having this part of my body be perceived at all. I have my top surgery very soon which i’m extremely excited for but why do I have to defend myself for wanting something that’ll make me happier just because people don’t understand the feeling.
Sorry this has become quite personal and rambly somehow but apparently i have many feelings about this and if they can help anyone in any way then that would he the best outcome. I guess what i’m trying to say is try to let go of whatever you think other people want you to be and be kind and gentle with yourself. You don’t HAVE to be anything the only thing you should be is comfortable in your own skin
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novashelby · 4 days
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I think you need to go easy on people having a very natural curiosity and speculating on personal lives. We literally do it in casual, everyday settings (ie office life, school, hobby groups, etc). I understand your disdain and protective attitude towards your muse, but it’s not taking into account that a vast majority of readers on Tumblr have very real mental health challenges—myself included, where spending time lusting and being curious about a wildly attractive and mesmerizing actor and character plays a big role in distraction, dopamine release, curiosity about human behavior, deciphering cues, etc. Even his coworkers are intrigued and nosy about his personal life. While this is no excuse for poor behavior, it may shine light that fighting this urge of gossip is a lot harder than you think when the fan fiction, media and the way human minds work all come together to leave big impressions.
The message is heard loud and clear. Calling it sick and implying it’s some twisted, abnormal, unconscionable behavior is just not in line with reality. Yes, gossip can do real harm, but please try for a softer tone and realize many of the writings produced on here only add fuel to the fire of lust/dreaming/wanting to feel closer to the subject. Your message will be much better accepted.
This was actually meant for @cillmequick, apparently, but I am going to answer it.
Firstly, my overall objective was: we are too invested in their personal lives. Their personal lives should be off limits. We should love and admire their work, but allow them to clock out like everyone else.
Personally, I don't give a fuck about CILLIAN MURPHY. What I mean by that, I don't care about his marriage, I don't care about his work out routine, don't care about his family life, I don't care about what he does in his free time, I don't give a fuck if he got a hair cut, I don't give two flying shits if he got a tattoo. He's allowed to enjoy those things without me up in his ass. I care about him in regards to his work and what he says about his work.
Quite honestly, I could walk out of my house right now and see him, and not spazz out. Why? Because we are all human and share this planet. I'd do a wave, say hi, and allow him to live his life.
People are too much. I'm sorry you found my language harsh, but that is life. Personally, I couldn't write a RPF because it's just too much for me. I love his CHARACTERS. RPF is fine, I get it. People know it's fake. But it's more of just everything else that comes with it; gossip, harmful speculations, slander, degrading, harassing a human. I'm not going to come at someone for enjoying Cillian fics. Do your thing. Just do it respectfully.
What I am annoyed with is people up in business that they don't belong in, and grabbing information and being harmful with it.
And truly, I am sorry if you were hurt by my words. I understand people are going to be nosy...that's just being human. It's more how you do it and what you do with the information you have, sort of thing.
And I'm sorry you are struggling with mental health issues. Though, if you are relying on a celebrity for a daily dopamine hit, I really would suggest finding other outlets. I'm not trying to be rude, I'm being serious. Famous people cannot adhere to your expectations and one day, he may do something you really hate, and then you're left without. They can't and aren't your image of what you want them to be. So, I really suggest finding another outlet; hiking, walking, painting, drawing, journaling, writing, yoga, and so on. Exercise is a really good dopamine boost...even if it's just a little stretching. I say this as someone who struggles with GAD, CTSD, PTSD, Panic Disorder, and depression.
Please take care and I didn't mean to be harmful with my words. I just wish people understood personal space a little more. Have possibly a little more dignity and respect, I guess. Sorry, I may sound all jumbled. I have been sick.
Kisses.
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Text
Fireside Friendship [Mando x GN!Reader]
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Warnings and Information: No real age rating for this one. This is just good, wholesome fluff where you and Mando go camping between one of his bounties under the guise of "survival training" for Grogu. No real indication on what season of the show. One brief moment of panic on Mando's part when Grogu goes temporarily "missing". Helmet stays on. Campfire games/stories. No description of Reader's gender or looks [If I've slipped up, kindly let me know]. Second person POV. Some swearing.
I haven't watched The Last of Us, but can you spot the nod to it?
Word-count: 3,700
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This little one had an amusing proclivity for trouble. For the fifth time in as many minutes, with delighted babbling, the little green child started chasing after another three-eyed amphibian he'd spotted. You found the boy adorable; those big, sweet eyes, and ears that moved with his emotions, the six curious little fingers that demanded to touch every little thing this galaxy had to offer. 
Even things that would make him sick, like this frog with a powerful hallucinogenic compound that it was capable of secreting through its skin as a defensive measure.
That was not something his guardian wanted to deal with or find out of it most effective topically, or worse yet, orally. The gleaming beskar and dark t-visor of the man's helmet whipped around in a blink. He dropped an item back into the supply crate, calling out sharply over the vocoder. "No, Grogu-!" 
While the little one's legs were short, he could be surprisingly fast. You were faster. Swooping him up yet again before he reached the gurgling banks of the little river, you turned a deaf ear to the protestful whines and fussing. "Gotcha, ya little womprat. Stop wandering off, kiddo. And I'm not putting you down. Gonna give him a heart attack." You weren't falling for his pity-me coos anymore.
The exasperated huff of an exhale was probably meant for you this time more so than the other half of Clan Mudhorn. Up until recent days, you were unaware that Clans could be so small.
"What," you tease, guessing that underneath the helmet, you're being given a very pointed glare, "you think I don't hear how worried you get?" Another huff. Softer, this time. His shoulders go slack. 
"You're welcome, by the way." you add, playfully bouncing the little guy in your arms. The action makes him erupt in a peal of giggles and squeals. Gloved fingers now go limp along with the rest of him as he watches the child, "Thank you," his arms reach out now, "I can take him." 
You shake your head softly, holding Grogu gently to your chest, and the little one leans into the gesture. Large eyes peer over in the direction of the beskar-clad figure, a silent plea, or perhaps an effort of persuasion, that Grogu wishes to remain with you a moment longer. "It's okay. I've got him. You can go ahead and take care of what you need. I'll keep Grogu entertained." You promise, carefully dropping onto your butt and tucking your legs under you in a comfortable manner to hold the endlessly curious little lifeform in your arms as long as his guardian needed.
A third huff, but this time, full of gratitude and relief. "Thank you… I guess that would make getting everything ready a lot easier." You nod silently to say of course. You'd been happy to help when he stopped at the local cantina and asked if there was anyone he could hire to take him to a safe but secluded part of the forest on this planet. You'd been happy to give him your name, which he rarely used, strangely, and learn his “nickname” in kind when you asked who was looking to hire you. You'd been happy to meet the "little one" he'd spoken of when he led you back to his ship after the "contract" (just for formality's sake) was completed. You'd been happy to spend these last few days guiding this man and his… son, perhaps, through what was practically your backyard. 
You knew this forest well. All the best spots for trapping and hunting and fishing. The gentlest rivers for soaking your feet to cool off. The gusty clearings that were rife with docile native fauna. So when the drink-slinger who worked the joint day in and day out told him "Your best bet is taking them along. They've lived out here all their life." and this Mandalorian, clad in stoic beskar and a helmet he's never once removed in your presence, didn't need more convincing than that. 
Continuing to gently bounce Grogu in your arms, you look over to the hired gun who hired you for a guide. "May I ask you a question?" He's stacking and unstacking items in the cached supply crate. You wonder what he's looking for, but it's not what you have in mind to ask. "About you." you add.
There's no pause in his work when he answers you. "I suppose."
"Your helmet? Do-"
"I took a Creed." he fires off, all too quickly. In a low breath, Mando as you've been calling him offers an uttered apology. He's a little tired after the day's hike in his armor. He shouldn't have lost his temper with you, it wasn't exactly fair of him. He's sorry. 
"Easy…" you laugh, attempting to placate the surge of his temper, "I figured there's gotta be a reason by now, Mando. It's really none of my business why. I just wanted to know if you ever found it uncomfortable to sleep with your helmet on, or if you've accounted for that with specialized padding."
You believe the question surprises him. That perhaps for once in many a blue moon someone isn't asking him to remove his helmet, or why he wears it. That you acknowledge why he wears it is none of your business. "'Specialized'-?" Mando shakes his head, chuckling softly. It's perhaps the first time he's done so without it being directed at Grogu. "No. Not really. It's something you learn to get used to, in my way of life, after you've sworn the Creed." 
You nod. "Fair enough. May I ask another?" He simply nods this time, turning back to the crate. "Just what are you doing in the cache? You've been sorting it out since we got here." 
His search halts when he finds three ration packs to bring back to the future fireside. "Trying to find what's freshest for us to eat."
"Oh, that's kind of you, but you don't have to worry about freshness too much," you chuckle, "it'll all be less than a standard month old. I stock these caches myself. They're for anyone to use. Hunters, fishers… people who just want to go camping. Even mercenaries. I've been doing this for a long time." you say with a little gesture of your hand, indicating the pines and the cache and the fire pit you've dug. 
His head and the helmet with it tilts softly to the left. "Is there anything you don't do? You agree to help strangers, hike three days out into a remote forest, and have helped me show Grogu how to survive. Or, try to." Grogu breaks into a gurgle-y laugh at the mention of his name, little hands straining hard to reach over to Mando. "He… might have been too young for this after all. Grogu probably sees this as some sort of fun camping trip."
It's the most Mando's spoken in a while. He's more a man of action than words, you suppose. You're okay with that. "Well… Leave the planet, I guess. I've been here my whole life. The Empire doesn't care to come here, either." Mando just nods to show he understands as he joins you on the forest floor, Grogu now settled in his lap. 
You're okay with the fact he mostly communicates through nods, shakes, expressive hand gestures or single-shouldered shrugs. Perhaps he doesn't interact with others regularly, not like this. It's your understanding that Mando is a bounty hunter; you've just never heard of one that traveled with a child. That's not exactly a profession one takes with the intention to make friends in mind. But he was polite, courteous, and civil; at least, if Mando didn't see you as a threat to himself or Grogu. 
You'd seen how fast he whipped the IB-94 blaster from the holster at the first whiff of perceived trouble. Someone had been snooping around his ship, eyeing the landing struts. Mando transformed into a whole new person before your eyes.
Cold. Calculated. Dangerous. The soft voice under the vocoder was now a sharpened knife, the chilling threat of an experienced mercenary. 
"Back off. That's my ship." Mando had frozen up when you planted your palm on top of the '94 and directed the business end to the dusty landing strip. 
"Hey-hey, that's just Maj. Maj knows his way around a fair number of ships since he spent a lot of time on Tatooine in one of the trade ports; he's only seeing if you need repairs." 
The weapon was holstered just as smoothly as it had been unholstered, but the act of returning it was slower than the retrieval. "... Apologies. Does Maj speak Huttese? There is one repair I would allow him to make." 
"He does, yes." 
By the time you, Mando and Grogu would make it back to the place you called home, the cantina and shipyards, Maj would have the starship fit for flying. Fit for the next bounty, wherever it would be for this gun for hire. That'd be another two days, if you really took your time to hike out of these woods. Or, if you had to constantly mind Grogu, making sure he didn't wander off in search of tasty goodies every three minutes. 
The little lifeform's appetite seemed bottomless. You'd never seen such a species before, so you couldn't tell if this tiny thing was always this voracious, or if he was entering some kind of growth spurt soon. Curiously, Mando didn't know either. 
"I don't know what his species is. He was… originally a bounty. A job. But I got attached. So I took him back." was all Mando had to say on that particular matter. It left you to speculate as you got the fire started, and Mando cautiously let Grogu clamber from his lap and gingerly toddle about. 
Back, hm? Wonder what exactly that entailed. 
But really, it wasn't any of your business. He clearly cared for Grogu, glancing at the little one every few seconds with a minute movement as he shuffled through the sparse grass of the clearing this river cuts through. 
"Do you need more tinder?" Mando offered between glances at the child, watching you feed the growing flame with measured breaths after you had announced you wanted to get the fire going before nightfall. 
"This is plenty." you assured him. Through the dark, impassable visor, you could tell Mando was watching the movement of your hands, the clues of confidence in your craft as you fanned the flames higher. "There. Should be able to get some water from the river and boil it for the rations, now."
"Boil water?" 
"Yes," you replied, "you grabbed stew rations on purpose, right?" 
The sharp twitch of his head read as surprise. His voice was full of pauses. "I wasn't aware that's what these were. Are they… any good?" 
You offered a smile and a shrug. "It's food. It'll fill your belly. It'll keep you warm. That's the only thing I could hope for out here, if my situation was dire." you answered truthfully. "Thankfully, it's not. The stew has a nice, savory flavor to it. The little one might like it." Glancing around, you note that Grogu has wandered off, away from the radius of light that breaks up the deepening shadows while the sun slinks below the horizon. He's now by the river again where the grass is much taller, fuller.
Mando, however, does not immediately see the child. "Grogu? … Dank farrik, I should have kept an eye on him. Grogu? Grogu!" 
Pausing in his play, Grogu answers with a soft Wah? while his hands are in water up to the wrist, previously splashing around. The sleeves of his tan clothing are sopping wet. 
You're beginning to wonder how much visibility that visor affords Mando. Or if he's just so panicked he's not thinking clearly. "Where is he?" You lay a steady hand on a beskar-plated knee as you get up and dust down the seat of your pants and your own knees. With an assuring smile, you call over to Grogu that he needs to stay put. Turning back to Mando, you say, "I kept an eye on Grogu, he's by the river. I'll get him and some water to boil." 
For a brief moment, you wish you could see the relief, the realization that Grogu is safe, across every feature of his face. But the helmet stays on. And the helmet will stay on even when it comes time to eat.
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"How's your stew?" Your head is turned like you would call over your shoulder, but you look out straight ahead into a living sea of bark and twig and leaf. There are soft spots of dancing, pulsating light off in the distance. 
Fireflies. 
Such a fascinating spectacle. What a shame their numbers are in decline… Rumors about some kind of great sickness wiping them out, slowly, surrounds them. All very strange and confusing. 
Much like the man you currently have your back to so he could eat in relative comfort. The most you'd seen of the man beneath the beskar was the lower jaw, which had afforded you a few clues. Facial hair. A tanned complexion. From there, you could probably deduce a few more physical characteristics. Likely dark, curled hair, if he had it. Brown eyes, maybe hazel. 
"Decent." Mando offers after speaking in a soft voice to Grogu. He speaks little with the helmet on. Even less when he has it inched high enough to eat and sip from the ration pouch by tipping the end just high enough to let gravity assist him. "Grogu likes it." 
"Oh good." you return to staring straight ahead, out into trees at the edge of the clearing. You'd seen something creeping slowly in the distance while the water had boiled, something large and stocky and hooved. 
"What is that?" 
"Not a threat. It's docile. The most dangerous thing in this forest is you, me, and the youngest member of Clan Mudhorn." You'd teased. 
That's when you learned that Grogu was fifty. It was Mando who was the youngest, technically speaking. 
Mando calls your name softly. "What's so funny?" 
"Oh, just… Grogu being fifty. Again." 
Mando sighs sharply and repeats your name with a disapproving tone. You get the sense he's not truly upset or annoyed with you for giggling to yourself for the sixth time, but more surprised. In his own way. Much like he'd been about the helmet. Surprised by how… refreshing it felt to simply have his answer taken as it was. No follow-up questions. No insistent reassurance that he could simply just break his Creed and shed his helmet, his anonymity, the face that was perhaps safest to show the galaxy. 
Nothing other than acknowledging that you have no entitlement to picking apart the minutiae of him. His helmet. His identity. It spoke of your character. He appreciated that about you. 
He speaks your name again. But this time, it's part of a renewed introduction. "My name is Din Djarin." 
"Din Djarin…" you repeat, testing the name on your tongue, and you find it makes you smile as you release that last syllable, "it has been a very nice, but long three days getting to know you, even if I couldn't help you with Grogu's survival training." There's a hand on your shoulder, the cue that you're welcome to turn around now; he's reset the helmet on his head, and now he's ready to repeat the process of the last few nights by the fire. 
Silly little stories. Childish little games. Simple things to pass the time until the siren song of sleep was too much for the little one's eyelids to bear, and he would fall asleep in someone's lap. The first night Grogu had drifted off in Mando's arm, little nose touching the cool metal of the breastplate. The second, Grogu had come to you, mumbling and drooling over your shoulder as you held him while listening to the story behind their clan signet. Who he would choose tonight remained to be seen. 
"What would you like to do?" you ask, tucking your feet comfortably under you. Realistically, only so many campfire games worked with just two people who were old enough and capable of talking, and only one of them with a visible face. And the sort of tall tales and oral retellings typically told over flame tended to take on a moodier, unsettling tone. Scary stories would only serve to make Grogu sleepless and antsy. 
"We could play a question game." Mando suggests, hands swinging out to his left and his right as he shrugs. Like he's showing you he's unarmed. "Easy enough to abandon. Simply just… talk." 
"Good idea, uh… Could I call you Din? Would you be alright with that? Feels a little strange to keep calling you "Mando" now that you shared your name with me." 
"I suppose." Din answers with your name, and you can hear the change in his voice that happens when you believe he's smiling. "You first." 
You ponder on what you'll ask him first. Nothing intrusive. Nothing too prying. Your goal is to ask questions that are just innocuous, innocent, and general. "Do you have a favorite color, Din?" It's such an easy, throw-away sort of question, that it surprises you when he takes a minute to mull it over. 
"I'm not sure. Just one color?" 
"Okay," you concede, "you're welcome to go with more than one if you'd like." 
Din's fingers fold over one another, hands tucking under the chin. "Does chrome count as a color? I'm kidding-!" he says before you would have the chance to say anything, "Maybe it's easy to guess why I'd say green. And red; but not the Empire's red. What're yours?" You don't have to spend quite as long nibbling your bottom lip in thought. You tell him it's the color that makes up most of your wardrobe, and the color you painted your bedroom walls in, or wished that you could. Something about the color made you feel good inside. Made you smile. 
A memory from a long time ago with a very important, special person in your life was connected to it, too.
It was Din's turn to ask the question before you were to answer, and then turn it back to him so he could answer it himself; that's how this game worked. "If you knew you had all the credits, fuel and supplies to get you there, no matter how far away it is from here, what planet would you go visit?" 
Wow. You weren't sure. "Just enough to get me there? Or would I have enough to get there, and also then come back to this planet?"
"You'd also have enough to come back here, if that's what you wanted, yes." Din assured you. "Your home planet clearly means a lot to you."
Boy, did it ever. The prospect of never returning, the mere idea, wasn't something you'd ever thought of much. Yes, you want to go explore some part of the galaxy, maybe some distant day, but it's just not on the table for you, currently. 
"Well… maybe some place with something new to experience. Like, um… what's a planet without forests?" Din listed off a few planets and their respective sectors from memory, some you'd heard, others you hadn't. "Maybe I'd visit one of those first. What about you; where would you go?" 
Din hesitated to answer, hands dropping from his helmeted face. "Maybe Aq Vetina. Or Concordia, if I knew for certain either were safe. Definitely somewhere we," he gestures to Grogu (who's been tossing little sticks into the fire under your supervision) and himself, "would be safe from the Empire." 
"Fair enough. I don't like them either. Nosy Imps…" Taking a breath to collect and steady yourself, you shake off the thought of Imperials and their stifling regulations and their banthashit before you return to the game that doesn't really feel like a game. It feels more like you're building a better friendship with this Mandalorian decked out in beskar and packing heat. 
The weapons were a factor of his religion, evidently. That one had been harder to wrap your head around, admittedly, since you had been paid to take him out to a very safe forest with little need for protection against the animals that made their home within it. You really weren't concerned about the other people you might encounter, either. It was spawning season for many of the fish, and fishermen didn't really arm themselves with a slug-thrower or blaster. Just knives, if anything. 
It was now your turn to ask the question both of you would answer. You were struggling to think of anything else but the following: "Do you… have many friends, Din? Or, any?" 
Din answers this one quickly. "It's a short list." 
"Oh yeah? How short?" Both of you don't know it yet, but this is the point your game ends. It's just chatting from here on out until Grogu has decided that he wants to sleep, growing bored enough of you and Din talking about things that don't interest him and not being allowed to wander away from the fire anymore to continue splashing in the river.
Din puts down a number of fingers, holding up both hands deliberately to make certain the number sinks in. 
"That short. Well, I'm not that surprised. Bounty hunters don't exactly make more friends than rivals." you say with a chuckle. "Kinda… sad, in my opinion. You seem like too nice a person for the profession; I think you deserve more friends,  Din Djarin." 
Another gloved finger curls into his palm. 
And with that lilt in his voice as he talks through the vocoder that suggests he's smiling, Din says your name before he speaks seven simple words that warm you to your core more than the fire that sits in the middle-space between each of you.
Words that make you feel just as honored as being the one Grogu decides to fall asleep with.
"Then let's add you to the list."
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[Masterlist] [Requests: OPEN]
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nyhti · 4 months
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any thoughts and feelings on jeremiah in shadow of the bat #80-82?
furthermore, any thoughts and feelings on his pookie david in that comic?
Thank you for the ask <3333 :33 So I went back and read Wax Man and the Clown again to refresh my mind on it and I'm glad I did. While it's not my favorite Jeremiah story, mainly because of the art, I still found it enjoyable and even got myself a new headcanon!!! Yay!!
Now, I think I've talked about my dislike of Jeremiah being written too soft before. He had bite in The Last Arkham, bite he desperately needed, because this character becomes very boring very fast without it. I had this memory of him being a total push over in this story, but now that I've read it again, I don't think so. Yes, he is softer than he was in The Last Arkham, but he also threatened to shoot Joker in the head and considered letting the patients starve to death. Soft uwu bean <333 And, yeah, even in the parts that he seemed more of a push over, you just have to keep in mind that he's quite literally half asleep, starving and under an incredible amount of stress in every panel and actively hallucinating by the end of the story. I'll cut him some slack, but I still think the Jeremiah we were introduced to in The Last Arkham wouldn't have been quite as mellow even in these circumstances.
I also do not like the art in this issue. I simply wouldn't have recognized Jeremiah had I not been told that this character drawn here is supposed to be Jeremiah. I think if this story had been illustrated my Norm Breyfogle, it could've been one of my favorite Jerry stories. Here's a quick sketch of how I wish he had looked like in this story:
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Oh, and David? David is the reason I headcanon Jeremiah as bi in the first place.
Jeremiah: What about you, David? Are you going too?
David: No, sir. My place is with you.
Now, I do not know what Grant had in mind when he wrote their relationship, but it came across as very loving. Whether or not that love was romantic, I guess that's up to everyone's own headcanons. I feel like at least on David's side it leaned towards romantic, but Jeremiah seemed more reserved. You could say he didn't feel quite the same way, but also we know Grant wrote him shy towards things of that nature as seen in his reaction to Poison Ivy in Batman: Shadow of the Bat #56. I like to believe it was shyness that stopped him from going any further.
Also.
Jeremiah confirmed kitty boy catmom kittycat enthusiast!!!!!!!!! He definitely gave off that catperson aura all the way in The Last Arkham, but I was really happy it was confirmed here with the kitten he had in childhood <3 I love how he's still haunted by this cat he failed to save 40 years later. True catmom behavior.
This cat also exists in my verse and her name is Lumi (=snow, but I'm calling her Snowy in English.) She's called Lumi, because I misremembered the cat being white. The cat's actually gray lol, but I'm not changing the name anymore. The cat is all white in my verse. Also in my verse she lives a long, happy life and dies somewhere between ages of 15-20, when Jeremiah is in his 20s and in med school.
His parents get a new cat – actually I headcanon that over the years his parents end up raising a lot of cats. Jeremiah, who is living on his own at this point, also thinks about getting his own cat, but fears he would not have enough time for one as med school is keeping him busy. He decides he's going to get one later and in the mean time just go see the cats at his parents house. I imagine Jerry's mom uses the cats to get him to visit.
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It's still a little up in the air in my verse does he get his own cat now, at age 44, or does he get it later, but one day he does finally visit a shelter and brings home a beautiful tabby cat he names Viiru or Tabby in English (it is my headcanon he is not creative with names).
Another thing I liked about this comic was the shotgun. The shotgun Jeremiah used. The shotgun he threatened to kill Joker with. This is so fascinating to me, because he himself almost died by a shotgun at 16. I just wonder how he feels holding that thing. How he feels being on the opposite end of it now. How he feels being the one to point it at someone else's head. None of this is answered of course ^_^ Grant never even brought up Jeremiah's backstory in later stories ^_^ But, I'm still having fun imagining it myself. This is that new headcanon I was talking about. He definitely now owns a shotgun in my verse.
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deathsbestgirl · 11 months
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For me skepticism looks harsh on Mulder cause there's an edge of a demeaning/patronising tone that Scully doesn't have, Scully is a skeptic but when it's sth sensitive/important to him she's very careful not to be hurtful whereas Mulder isn't always, I struggle with him in those episodes honestly, you can be a skeptical asshole about Catholicism(I certainly am) without putting down the person who practices it, I guess I'm more sensitive to the gender dynamic when Scully is a believer cause it plays with some unpleasant tropes the show usually subverts (Rational Man tells Irrational/Emotional Woman how wrong she is isn't a great look for Mulder even without taking his own attitude into account)
yeah i can see how gender adds a layer to it that would bother people!
i tend to think he's shaken when she believes, like she's shaken when he doesn't believe. and they aren't comfortable in those roles. mulder gets a little harsh and walks it back when he sees scully's reaction, that she's feeling vulnerable. he always softens. and like, even scully is shaken when she believes.
i also don't think scully is always sensitive to mulder. she definitely is when she can see & understand the connection to samantha. but i think about quagmire where she just didn't get it. and in the end, he talks about wanting something tangible. something scully needs to safely believe & she knows he is always looking for proof but he tends to believe even when it isn't something tangible, something she can prove with evidence, medicine & science. so in quagmire, he was looking for hope, trying to hold onto it. something he consistently struggles with. so in the end, she says "people want to believe" because she finally understood.
i also just think she tends to seem softer about it because she's a woman, and if she were be too harsh, people would have a very different reaction to her character. like in the beginning, she thinks he's pretty ridiculous a lot of the time. she teases him often, and that stays present in certain cases. but she just likes him so much and he doesn't take it personally from her because she also always takes him so seriously, and follows him regardless of what she believes. (scully made mulder "a whole person" and mulder makes it safe for scully to be herself)
and yeah in general, i think he struggles with organized religion but i also think mulder wishes he could believe in god.
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i also posted this on twitter. i just like to think about their role reversals and how they come across and why. it's one my favorite parts of their dynamics. i think they try to protect each other with their believer/skeptic roles. it doesn't exactly work, but they try to provide a balance to each other. so when scully believes, mulder tries to be skeptical & rational, remind her of her typical perspective, until she moves through her vulnerability and scully holds his beliefs like they're her own until he's ready to take them back.
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zombiiwriter · 10 months
Text
Not my hands
TTT x reader
0.7k words
Warnings: maybe a bit ooc and spelling errors
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You and TTT liked to talk. You were never the most observant person in the world, but she was definitely what you would call a gossiper. She looked and collected then told someone else (preferably you) later, never once interfering save from some rare situations. You, on the other hand liked to mind your own business, an isolationist free from social norms or at least you told yourself that. After everything though, you still can’t resist the intrigue of human beings. She gives you a way to indulge yourself without interacting with them.
You let out a scoff "no way that pavia guy is friends with Zima, he’s too intense."
"I’m sooo serious the-"
"Nope"
"But-"
"Don’t believe it."
"You think I would lie to you?" She puts on a baby voice with a playful pout.
"I think" you got up and got closer to TTT "you need your eyes checked", you retorted and hit the TV. Not enough to damage it though.
"H-hey! Stop it!" the rest of the monitors jumped. It startled you, but it also made you laugh. You liked how expressive she was.
"Sorry! Sorry!" you’re laughing. The apologies sound insincere, which was partially true, but you were just playing around.
"I wish I had a body so I could hit you back!" she said, the televisions jumping once again.
You say smugly " if you really wanted to hurt me, you’d shock me like you do with the critters outside." You smile with a bit of satisfaction. "plus- those hands won’t be able punch hard enough to hurt." you pointed to her hands through the screen. Her hands were soft and whenever she moved them it added to her playful nature, accompanying her reactions whenever she was hearing a particularly good tale.
"Well, technically these aren’t my hands." she said, her voice getting softer. "If you really want to feel what they’re like you could try touching the electric current." Her voice was sincere, and she seemed almost shy. Although what she said, brought something else to mind.
"Wouldn’t that kill me though?" You said, totally ruining the mood. A second after you said that, you mentally slapped yourself in the face a bit.
"Well, I guess you’re right then. Never mind."
Salvaging that lost opportunity, you speak up impulsively again. " I mean I could try feeling it through the TV. If you could make them jump, I could probably feel something through the screen." You look away a little.
"Sure, let’s try it…." Both of your hands approached your side of the screen. It was almost agonizingly slow, but too fast at the same time. your hands reached the screen before her but quickly after both of your fingertips are on the screen aligned with each other. You were holding your breath and you didn’t even know it until your hands started touching. It felt warm, not like an electronic was warm, but not like a person was warm either.
"Do you feel anything?"
" yeah, I do. A little bit, do you?"
" I think I do"
both of your palms were sort of touching now. it felt electric and you felt a sort of pulse. You knew TTT didn’t have a heart anymore but that illogical part of you believed you felt it beating. Your heart was beating a bit harder than you expected it to. And the room was quiet, and the scene was so undeniably peaceful but also intense. You were feeling a lot of conflicting things at that moment, but the one thing you were thinking in the silence was, is this intimacy? is this that closeness that you use to gag at your peers, for babbling on about. You looked at her face. She was smiling at you And your mind was flooded by a singular thought.
You wanted to kiss her.
You were snapped out of your trance by the voice of somebody calling for you. Turning your head back to the door and then removing your hand, you look back at TTT. You can’t read her expression for a specific emotion. Before you leave, you try to say to croak out some words. "I-um, I’ll be right back." Before leaving the room and closing the door behind you. You felt a little guilty for leaving her like that. But if you were honest with yourself, you were your breath on the other side of that door. "Shit" you meant to think instead of say. You realized Vertin was looking at you shortly after. She called out your name.
"Are you OK?"
"yeah." You said breathlessly while holding your head "yeah, I’m great."
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