#and a lot of that sadness is from missing you and thinking about you and feeling like nothing between us ever changes for the better
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Roadside
Summary: On your way back from a long weekend that you got to spent with Joel, his car breaks down. While you both waited for Tommy to get there to help, Joel has some ideas on how to spend the time waiting.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 792
Rating: T
Warnings: roadtrips, falling in love but slowly, car trouble, implied smut, kissing, flirting, feelings, teasing, kinda secret dating, fourteen year age gap
A/N: I'm missing references to three pics I think, but it doesn't get better than this lol (technically I am not here, because I am on a writing break) The moodboard screamed road trip to me, so this is what I did. This is for @iamasaddie 24 hour writing challenge and I hope it does not suck 🙃
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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist
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„What are you gonna tell him when he gets here?“ You hummed, looking up at Joel. He gave you a small smile before he stepped closer, his big, strong hands coming down to part your legs for him, stepping between them so he was towering over you, the sun slowly setting on the horizon.
You had almost made it home. 
After a long weekend of having Joel to yourself without the fear of running into someone you both knew (if you left your hotel room at all) that you had spend in a tiny town in close to Dallas, you were on your way back, just an hour out of Austin when his truck made a very sad noise until the engine went out and the car stopped on the side of the road. 
He had tried to get it to work before, with a long groan, he told you he had to call Tommy cause the something something needed a something so he could fix it. He had kept his eyes on you the whole times as he made the call, looking beyond sexy in the shirt you bought him, with his too long getting hair that you had spent all night running your fingers through as he made you cum over and over again until you both passed out. 
You had met Tommy before. You just hadn’t met him as Joel’s girlfriend.
Things between you and Joel had been… slow until they weren’t.
You’ve known each other for almost two years due to you working as an interior designer occasionally with his company. But it was six months ago that you had gotten closer as you worked on a very time consuming project where the client brought you both to the verge of insanity with how often they were changing the plans. 
He had finally asked you out one night and the rest as they say, was history. 
„Guess I’m finally gonna introduce my controversially young girlfriend to him,“ Joel smiled before he kissed you softly. You gasped in mock offence, before tilting your chin up to meet his lips with a smile, your hands running up his broad back until your fingers slipped into his hair on the back of his neck. 
„Not that controversial,“ you grinned and he chuckled before his lips kissed down your neck. 
„Fourteen years is a lot,“ he mumbled against your neck and you sighed, letting your head fall to the side to give him more access. One of his hands slowly drifted up your thighs, his fingers pushing the fabric of your skirt up. 
„Only if you care what other people think. Last time I checked, we’re both very consenting adults,“ you said and he playfully bit into your neck making your shriek. 
„How consenting are we talking about here exactly?“ He asked and you looked up at him as one of his hands slipped between your legs, his fingers brushing over your damp panties. 
You could feel your nipples harden against the fabric of the shirt you had put on this morning and Joel seemed to notice too, his other hand coming up to cup one of your tits, his thumb playing with your nipple.
Looking around you realised that you were pretty much in the middle of nowhere. You couldn’t even remember when you had seen a car drive by the last time. 
„Consenting enough to let you fuck me in the middle of nowhere until your brother gets here,“ you whispered against his ear and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against yours. 
„Atta girl,“ he grinned, before he kissed you again while his hands made quick work of your underwear. 
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You could still feel him dripping out of you, your legs a little weak, when you jumped of the back of the truck, Joel taking your hand as the door of the car that had parked behind his opened and a man jumped out, looking between the two of you. 
The sun had set by now, the cold air making you shiver and Joel let go of your hand, to put an arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him, the warmth of his body helping instantly. 
„So this is how I get to find out the mysterious woman that makes my brother grin like a teenager with a crush when he looks at his phone is you?“ Tommy Miller approached with a wide grin. You could practically hear Joel roll his eyes and you smiled at his brother. 
„You got a crush on me, Miller?“ You teased and looked up at him. 
„Brat,“ he sighed, fighting a smile.
„You love it,“ you winked, feeling him pull you closer. 
„Yeah, I really do,“ he hummed before he kissed you softly. 
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okey am curious miss raven, but what do you think about vil's uncharacteristic "KYAA" screaming from chapters 6 and 7 bc i was torn between concern and laughter
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The context, for those who aren't aware: Vil happily squeals at the end of book 6 after Malleus restores his youth. Then, in book 7, Vil screams in terror as he falls from the sky (courtesy of Silver's UM). So we get to see what Vil's like when he's genuinely super excited as well as what he's like when he's afraid of something quite mundane.
I’m personally not a fan of Vil (I do not like celebrity characters), but I liked that we got a glimpse of his vulnerable side. It's such a contrast to how cool and put-together he usually is for the public and lets us know that he, too, is human.
In a way, that's sort of sad... Because of Vil's career as a child star, he has to maintain his image and be composed in all that he does. He has to be guarded to keep up with the pressure of the entertainment industry and act a certain way to keep up with the expectations of the public and his peers, who are constantly judging him. And now that the media has branded him as this mature, wicked beauty, it's hard for him to really be seen as something different. Someone gallant, like the heroes he wishes he could play. Someone cute and innocent-looking, like his long-time rival Neige. In the end, Vil is stuck with his assigned role and can't really deviate from it or risk harm to his reputation, since his audience might perceive that as a "mismatch". The regular Vil always gives off these powerful vibes, creating the impression that you're beneath him, that he's untouchable. But what his "kyaaa"-ing shows us is that he's a regular person too. He can be unbearably happy. He can be fearful and experience motion sickness. This is the Vil behind the lights, the cameras, the makeup. The Vil that he wishes others would see and give a chance to, rather than the villain they want to see.
... Anyway, that was a lot of words for me to say “I thought it was cute and very different from the usual Vil!” 🤡
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Plus, even if Tiana’s race really didn’t have anything to do with her story, even if she really could be race-swapped to white and have her story stay the same, it would still be wrong to race-swap her. Why? Because Black people, especially Black women, are still underrepresented in media compared to their white counterparts! Making a Black character white is just giving white people more representation that they already have. It’s taking away the few representation that Black people have. While making a white character Black is just giving Black people, an already underrepresented group, more representation than they had before, and taking away from a group who already has lots of representation already, so they’re not missing out on anything if one character that used to represent them is now being represented as a Black woman. You can still relate to her still, just because she doesn’t look like you anymore doesn’t mean that she isn’t still the same character and can’t still be relatable to you. If you need a character to look like you as a white person in order to relate to them then guess what, you’re racist! With a capital R! End of story! Also don’t think I don’t notice that most of the time it is female characters that get this hate. A combination of racism and misogyny. Black women are the easiest targets. Some of y’all didn’t even care about these characters until you found out that a non-white character was playing them. It’s giving sad and desperate. Have some priorities, get a life and a sense of joy that doesn’t involve bitching about fictional fucking princesses no longer being your whitewashed Aryan wet dream on the internet.
On the bright side I didn’t know that Astrid was going to be played by a Black woman, and now I am glad! 🥳
"Oh well if Astrid/Annabeth/Rapunzel/Ariel are all being played by women of color, then let's have Dove Cameron play Tiana!"
Let's examine that statement real fast. Does Astrid being played by a Black woman change anything about the story? Her arc? Her character?
What about Annabeth? Sure, you could claim it's "the hair" for the billionth time in a row, but really it's about her being underestimated. In the books, this was bc she was blonde, but since dumb blondes don't really exist anymore, this would be a laughable thing to put in an adaptation. Just give her a new reason to be seen as underestimated
Rapunzel? Not all Germans are white, plus, this wasn't even a real casting. I ask again, what changes about Rapunzel's story if she is played by an Indian woman?
And now Tiana. What is Tiana's story about? It's about a Black woman struggling to make a living because she is Black. Not only that, but she is based on a real-life African-American woman, Leah Chase. That's what the story is about, you cannot take away her being Black and expect the story to stay the same
So many of you cry wolf on "raceswapping" and "fair is fair" when not only do you fail to examine how the character changes as a result of race, but you also ignore the literal centuries we have had on whitewashing
You cannot take away Jasmine's race and expect it to be the same story. You cannot take away Mulan's identity as a Chinese woman and say that it's the same concept. You can't call for "historical accuracy" when the character lives in a world populated by fucking dragons. It doesn't work like that
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the-secret-keeper · 4 hours ago
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Where MC Tells the Obey Me Brothers About How Horribly They Were Treated in Twisted Wonderland
This was requested by @sweetlicorice I hope you like it! It was taking longer than expected, so I only did the brothers, but I will do the dateables in a part 2, don't worry.
TW: Talk of being Overworked and Burnt Out, Abuse of Power, Very Angry Demons (but not at you), mental breakdowns, missing a pet (he's not dead, don't worry), and nightmares
Reader is referred to as MC by the characters (though I don't think they say it here) and MC is gender neutral, but this is mostly in second person, so for the majority of the story you'll be referred to as 'You' by the narrator.
Characters include: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub, and Belphegor
Could be read as romantic or platonic
This will be long, so the stories under the cut
This is organized by character, with a bit of context at the beginning. Enjoy!
First, it was a coffin. You were kidnapped by a horse-drawn hearse, woke up in a coffin, in another world. A world of magic, and wonder, but also one of pain, as you quickly learned. But you met people. You made friends, allies, and you were learning, even if you couldn't use magic.
And then, it was you landing rather harshly in a room that looked like an old-time, very fancy courtroom, surrounding by tall and intimidating looking young men. It was soon explained to you that you were in the Devildom, and were an exchange student, one that would be living with the Seven Deadly Sins for your own protection.
You didn't know what to feel. Gratitude for the much improved living conditions? Fear for living with a bunch of demons and going to school with demons that would likely have no qualms with snapping you in two if you stepped out of line? Sadness for the friends that you don't know how to get back to? Upset for being forced to leave the place you were finally starting to feel like you fit in at and having to leave Grim? It was a whirlwind inside, and for a time, that's where it stayed. Kept inside.
Slowly, the Devildom revealed to have similar problems as Twisted Wonderland, in the fact that it seems everyone in power here, aside from Diavolo and Barbatos, would like you to die.
Most of the brothers tried to kill you. One of them succeeded! Congrats to them you guess, though, no offense to Belphie, you don't think it was particularly hard for a demon to kill a human.
Through all of this, you got closer to those you were staying with, even forgiving Belphegor after everything. It only made sense that eventually, what happened to you, you started to open up to them about your past. About those that you met and bonded with, all that had been put onto you, and all that was different.
Lucifer:
You were in his office, as you did somewhat often. It was quieter in there than it was in most of the house, and no one would bother you if you were with him. Plus, sometimes he would let you take care of some of his paperwork, just the stuff that wasn't too sensitive or important, but it lightened his load a bit.
"Why do you insist upon helping me?" He asked, not looking up from his paper, as you looked at your own.
"I'm used to doing more work, and if it makes your job easier, then I don't mind." You shrugged.
"More work? Do you mean like a job?" He asked, somewhat curious. Your file had listed a lot, but you had, apparently, been missing for a while when you were brought to the Devildom, so he didn't know what you had been doing before coming there.
"Something like that." You vaguely answered, finishing a paper.
"I am always here if you need to talk." He glanced up at you, as you pulled out your homework instead.
"Thank you."
A comfortable silence fell over the you two. The ambiance of the fireplace, paired with the low volume on the record he was playing, along with the light scratching of his pen, was calming. His office was always dimly lit, enough to see easily, but also darker than the average room.
It was a quiet environment that reminded you of the days when you would sit in the office of Crewel, him taking pity on the amount of work shoved on you and attempting to help at least a little. Or the days when you would study with Ace and Deuce in the Heartslabyul Common Room, Riddle sitting nearby doing his own paperwork, and Grim resting lazily along your shoulders. It was comforting, yet sad, at the same time.
"Back, in the place where I was," you started softly after a few moments of silence, "there was more that was required of me."
"In what way?" He asked, and though you couldn't tell, off in your own world, he had stopped doing his paperwork to focus on what you were saying, fully enraptured in wanting to know your backstory.
"The headmaster, at my last school, his name was Dire Crowley. And he was terrible at his job." You laughed bitterly. "I showed up there one day, against my will, and practically started running the place once he thought I could handle it, or when he was certain I wouldn't complain." You glared at your paper, thinking back on all that was unfairly thrown at you.
"Like what?"
"Paperwork, was the majority." You answered without thinking. "But there were.... others."
"Others?" He prompted after a few moments of a now, much tenser, silence.
"Your demon form is scary." You looked at him, making eye contact. "But it is not as scary as facing seven Overblots within the span of a year."
"Overblots?"
"The manifestation of out of control magic and strong negative emotions that result in the transformation of the magic user, and the creation of a sort of monster. The magic user loses control of their entire being, and it's very taxing on the magic user." Your eyes were glazed over as you seemed to recite the information with no emotion in your voice. "I don't blame them, for Overblotting, and losing control, the world is cruel. I do blame Dire Crowley, however, for making me responsible for dealing with them."
"That sounds dangerous, for someone without magic."
"It was." You agreed, still looking towards him.
Not at him, but through him, as if you weren't registering how much you were saying. This made him all the more concerned, as he got up and walked over to you, sitting beside you.
"I was also responsible for whatever Dire Crowley wanted me to do. Feed the fireplaces over winter break, find out why our sports players are getting injured, stop that one student from taking over the student body, house these people for this inter-school competition, and on, and on." You listed, beginning to spiral. "I practically ran that school. Me! A magicless human who had no idea what they were doing or where they were or how to handle what was happening to me. He stuck me in a shack, filled with mildew, and mold, that was covered in dust, infested with ghosts, and falling apart at the seams with a fire-breathing cat. And he didn't even make me a student at first!" You looked at Lucifer, tears pricking your eyes. "I was a janitor! And when another student got myself, Grim, and another student in trouble, he was going to throw me out! Onto the streets with no understanding of the world, how it functions, or anything at all!"
Lucifer nodded, trying to get you to calm down silently, wanting to hear about your past, even though it was painful.
"And he'd threaten me, Lucifer! He'd threaten my housing, my food budget, and I had no means of income! I couldn't pay for myself in any regard, I was completely dependent on him! I was his little puppet. The puppet of the 'oh so gracious Dire Crowley'." You began to sob as emotions started to overcome you, them all spilling out as you finally let yourself feel safe enough to feel these emotions. "I was so scared! About what would happen to me, and my friends. I didn't know what the next day would bring."
He brought you into his chest, hugging you tightly, and allowing your tears to stain his red vest. He let you sob and weep as you finally allowed yourself to process the emotions you'd been keeping inside this whole time. He kept his breathing even, trying to get you to match it subconsciously, and he gently rocked you, trying to calm you down as best he could.
"I miss Grim!" You cried out, into his chest. "I miss him so much that it hurts. I feel so anxious without him around."
He didn't ask who Grim was, but he knew it was someone important. He'd ask you about it when you were calmer, for now, he'd just let you cry to your hearts content. It had been a long time since someone had come to him, and allowed him to see them crying, but he didn't mind it so much when it was you. He took pride in being someone you felt safe enough to cry around.
No more paperwork got done that night, but he didn't care. You were more important at that point in time, and Diavolo would understand, he assured you of this, when you tried to apologize for taking up his time and crying on him. He brought up that Diavolo would be more mad if he hadn't comforted you, which made you laugh. You were so tired from crying that not long after you calmed down, you drifted off in Lucifer's arms, on the couch in his office.
Mammon: 
You were hanging out in Mammon's room one night, trying to help him study. Mammon was a lot smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for, the main issue you were having was the effort in which he was putting in. Which was zero. He was much more interested in his video game than his homework, despite the fact that Lucifer had threatened to string him up from the ceiling should he not get a satisfactory grade.
It was almost nice, how familiar this felt. The arguing with him about studying gave you a nostalgic feeling, for when you would study with your First Year friend group, and you would try to pry Ace away from his video games. It was never effective, much like now, but the nostalgia made you keep trying to convince him.
Mammon himself didn't seem to notice the effect this was having on you, too focused on his video game. Not that you cared, better for him to remain oblivious that try to pry your secrets out of you.
You sighed, closing the textbooks that you had brought in, accepting the fate of his grade, and making a mental note to find a spot to at least try to hide him from Lucifer. You watched as he played the game for just a few more minutes before you crawled over, sitting beside him as he played, watching the screen.
"Why're ya so good at homework in the Devildom anyway?" He asked, in the blunt way he normally does.
"Diavolo adjusted my curriculum because I don't know much about the Devildom, so I get assignments that are easier." You admitted, leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "I appreciate it, my last headmaster wasn't nearly so accommodating." You mumbled bitterly, thinking back on that incompetent headmaster.
"Really? How's that?" He asked, only half-paying attention, as he spam-clicked the button on the controller to his video game.
"Eh, don't think too much about it. Crowley was stupid, and though he claims he was gracious, he was really anything but. At least to me."
"What's 'at supposed to mean?" He asked before exclaiming nonsensical, frustrated sounds at his loss in the video game.
"I was basically his Barbatos, but I wasn't paid. Hell," You laughed mirthfully, "what money I was supposed to get was threatened, actually. More than once."
"Really?"
His attention was still diverted, and you noticed this. He was likely only wanting to hear your voice for background noise while he played, but you didn't mind so much. At least now you can say you told someone. Even if he wasn't listening.
"Yeah, Crowley threatened my food and housing budget more than once. And he'd push all his work onto me, even though I really shouldn't have had that much responsibility put on me. After all, I was someone without magic in a magic-teaching school, from another world. I didn't know anything." You shrugged lightly, trying not to move Mammon's arm too much, because your head was still resting on his shoulder. "I can't say I miss that part of it."
"What do ya miss then?" He asked, eyes still glued to the screen.
"My friends. I had a group of friends that were pretty tight-knit. Trauma bonded, more like it." You laughed. "And Grim. I miss Grim."
"Grim?"
"My cat."
"Ya sound like Satan."
"Grim was a special cat. He could use magic, and fly, and talk. You remind me of him sometimes." At that he finally paused the game to look at you.
"I, remind ya of... a cat?" He asked incredulously.
"Yeah." You smiled, laughing lightly. "He was sarcastic, and demanding, and greedy. He called me Henchman, you call me Human." He rolled his eyes. "But underneath your... bravado, is a very nice person, who cares a lot. Grim and I... we only had each other. So it just makes sense that we bonded. I miss him, a lot. He used to sleep in my bed, and he'd always be there with me. I've been having trouble sleeping without him. It just feels like there's something missing." You admitted in a soft and sad tone. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders.
"I'll be yer Grim 'til we can convince Diavolo or Barbatos, or maybe Solomon to get yer cat." He said quietly, rubbing your upper arm. "Ya can sleep in here whenever ya need, ok?" You nodded. "Wanna watch a movie?" You smiled at him, nodding once more, as he turned the TV to one of the bajillion streaming services the family all pay for, because they share, and arguing with you about the best movie to watch.
Leviathan:
Leviathan was out in public with you, having gone to an anime themed event at a cafe in the Devildom. He was so excited, that you just couldn't resist when he asked if you wanted to go with. It was nice to hear him rant and ramble about all the things that he was passionate about.
"There's a cat in the anime that waitress is from! And he's super cool!" Levi started. "He can fly, and talk, and use magic. He's also very stubborn, like a donkey. But he's a favorite in the fandom because of how cute he is."
"I know someone like that." You mumbled without thinking, your mind wandering to your feline friend.
"You do?!" He asked excitedly.
"Yeah." You smiled. "His name was Grim, and he used to live with me, back in the time before."
"Really? Tell me more!"
"He wasn't super smart, or very hard working. He used to call me Henchman, and demand cans of tuna. But when it came down to it, Grim was the one I could rely on the most. But, that might also be because we literally couldn't leave each other." You told him.
"You couldn't?"
"No. I don't have magic, and he did. I'm human, he was a cat. The headmaster of my last school decided to be 'oh so gracious'," you quoted, making air quotes around his catchphrase, "and make the two of us one singular student, allowing us to attend his magic school."
"That seems... dumb. To say the least."
"It was." You deadpanned, before the both of you laughed. "He was a bad headmaster. Towards the end of my stay there, I was practically headmaster, just because of how much work he pushed onto me because he could. But while I was at that school I made friends. And I had Grim. Even if the situation I was in was less than ideal." You smiled as the waitress delivered the food you ordered, with a bundle of silverware.
"Ah. I bet you'd prefer them to an otaku like me."
"Not true!" You defended, pointing your fork at Leviathan. "I like you plenty fine, Levi. You actually remind me a lot of my friend Idia. But," you laughed awkwardly, "at least you leave the house sometimes, and aren't afraid of confrontation. Or, at least, you're not afraid to confront some people. Like your brothers." You set your fork down, stopping your silent threat at Levi, that wasn't actually very threatening to him.
"He was an otaku too?"
"Yes indeed, and a master gamer to boot."
"Better than me?"
"It's hard to say." You shrugged. "The games you guys play are similar, but different. It's not a fair comparison." He seemed placated by this answer. "Your brothers remind me of a lot of my friends from there." You said vaguely.
"Do you miss them?"
"Yeah. They're my friends, of course I miss them. And it's not like I know if and when I'll be able to see them again." You explained gently. "I don't miss the work though. Diavolo was nice and assigned me a tutor and easier assignments until I get the hang of the normal work here. And no one makes me do any extra work, or threatens my food or housing. Well, Lucifer threatens punishments sometimes, but he would never threaten my food or housing, and I won't get punished as long as I do my best and behave." You rambled, smiling at how nice it was here, compared to it was in Twisted Wonderland. "Plus, I have all of you, and Diavolo, and Barbatos, and the other exchange students. I miss my friends from there, and I really wish that I had Grim here with me. But I am happy here." You beamed.
"Maybe if we ask Lucifer, he may know how to get your cat." Leviathan suggested, smiling lightly.
"I would love that. He acts like Mammon, but he feels like an emotional support cat. And, I bet Satan would seriously love having him here too."
"You know, we're all here. If you want to talk."
"I know." You glanced around. "What anime is that cosplay from?" You asked, gesturing at another waitress, changing the subject.
He glanced, and started beaming, immediately launching into a rant about the anime it's from, and the character themself. It was nice that he didn't question the change in subject. You'd tell Levi and the others all about what happened to you, and about what Twisted Wonderland was like. Eventually. Maybe.
Asmodeus:
Saying Asmo was flirty, was an understatement. Possibly the understatement of the century. And while he flirted and charmed nearly every being in existence, he did understand consent, and took every no at face value, stopping when asked. Of course, it's a rejection, so at the beginning you had to explain that no, you're not rejecting him as a person, you like him plenty fine as a person, you just don't always want to be flirted with.
He still did it, but when you asked him to stop he'd make a show of whining about it, but stopping nonetheless. It was annoying, but he did take your 'no' seriously, so in the end it was kind of worth it. Asmo was good for conversation, and he knew all the gossip, so he was nice to hang out with.
You had mentioned a handful of times that he reminded you of someone where you were from where you used to live. But all he ever said in response was that there was no one like him. Which is true, as no one else could truly embody Lust like Asmodeus does.
He was doing a skincare night with you, when you brought it up again.
"You know a lot about skincare already, it's quite impressive." He complimented.
"Yeah, had a friend who took it very seriously." You agreed.
"Is this the same friend that I remind you of?"
"Tis." You smiled, gently rubbing the moisturizer onto his face. "He was an interesting man."
"Interesting man? Interesting how?"
"He was insanely hard working, yet it seemed no one saw that." You started, taking a deep breath. "He was an actor, and social media influencer. And he was talented. Extremely talented. He worked hard to get where he was, but he had the means to get there."
"Anything else I should know about this person?"
"Well, he was good at potions. And like, just as good if not better than Satan and Solomon, good. He had the harshest study routine, but it was worth it. Never failed a potions class if he was tutoring me. He didn't have much time to do so, but I was always grateful when he did." You thought back on the memories fondly, smiling, as you stopped rubbing the moisturizer into his skin, and moving onto the next step. "His methods were.... intense, to say the least." Your smile became strained, remembering the VDC. "But, they got the results he wanted, so I guess he didn't see much issue with it."
"Intense in what way?" Asmo asked, noting your tenseness.
"I was appointed manager for a dance team, an interschool competition thing, you know how competitive people can get." You shook your head lightly. "They all came to live in my dorm because it was mostly empty. But, despite me being manager, he decided I needed to follow the same diet as everyone else. My friends said it was a 'we're all in this together' thing, but I thought he was just being unreasonable. I mean, come on, hexing my food? That's just wasteful. And he didn't even pay me back. I didn't get much money for food in general, because I was the magicless student, and there he went, just wasting what I had." You laughed mirthfully, remembering your anger at the situation, and your frustration.
"Well, in his defense, if he was just looking out for you."
"I would have no problems if that were the case, Azzy." You slightly chastised, but it was playful, and held no real bite. "I took your diet in stride, didn't I?" He nodded in acknowledgement. "I would've been fine with it, if that were the case. But he never paid me back for the food that he hexed, or replaced it. I didn't have much, so no one being able to eat those foods, it was wasteful. I mean, it's not like I got much money, if any, from the school for dorm food, like every other dorm."
"Why wouldn't you?"
"I was the magicless student. The errand person. The pushover. The unpaid therapist or headmaster. Depends on the day." You sighed. "The headmaster didn't want to have to rewrite the budget to factor in an extra dorm, when it only had two students in it, that really only amounted to one student."
"Wait, I thought you've mentioned before that you had a roommate."
"I lived with a fire-breathing, flying, talking cat named Grim, who could use magic, and several ghosts. I say technically one student, because the ghosts were faculty members, technically, but Grim had magic, and I didn't, but I was human and Grim was a cat. So, when I popped out of the woodwork, with no magic, no identification, no way to go home, and no clue about how this world worked, the headmaster was 'oh so gracious'," you mocked, "and put us both in a run down dorm, enrolled as a single student."
"Run down?"
"I mean Run Down. It was called Ramshackle, by other students, and it certainly lived up to it's name. The heater didn't work, I had to curl up with Grimm under every blanket I could find in that house. It was caked in mold and mildew, and dust, until Crowley cleaned it for the VDC. I injured myself more than once." You pointed to a scar on your forearm, where you'd hurt yourself in an attempt to fix up your dorm. "I am, honestly, very grateful, for the opportunity to stay here, in much better conditions. I do miss my friends, and I miss Grim." You admitted.
"Is that why you named that stuffed animal Grim? I thought you were just taking after Mammon in your greed."
"I miss Grim." You stated simply. "He was always with me. We were inseparable. We fought, we bickered, but at the end of the day, I knew if there was one thing, one being, I could rely on consistently, it was Grim. He was my ride-or-die. I named my stuffed animal after him, because I have a hard time sleeping without him. Even just, relaxing, can be hard. I miss him, and I don't know if he's ok. I genuinely, worry about him. And I miss him so much, that it's hard to fully put into words."
"I'm sorry." He offered, and you just smiled at him.
There was not much more Asmodeus could say. He couldn't provide you the comfort that you craved, as he was not your cat, nor could he get you your cat. So, he extended his sympathies, and access to his bed whenever you would like. For cuddles, or for more, he was always down for whatever.
He only hoped that his efforts to be there, and open for you, helped to heal you a little bit in the long run.
Satan:
Satan was nice to be around. He was curious, and he liked to know things and ask questions, so he did tend to pry into your past. But he was always good for book recommendations, and was always happy to discuss any book you wanted.
You found comfort in his fondness for cats, finding a kindred spirit in that regard. You didn't tell him about Grim, not wanting to get his hopes up about maybe meeting your beloved companion. He did notice your love of cats though, and had gotten you a giant cat plushie, as a gift.
You had named it Grim, and it lived on your bed. It was much quieter, and honestly, a bit boring compared to the real thing, but it was good for cuddling in the night when you couldn't sleep because you missed your furry friend. You were grateful that Satan had brought you just a bit of comfort in those moments, even if he didn't know it.
"I had a cat." You started one day when he started reading off cat facts enthusiastically after you had expressed the slightest bit of interest. "He was a rather interesting thing."
"Really? What was he like?" Satan liked to hear you talk about your past in general, but he was especially excited to hear about your cat.
"His name was Grim. And he was big, like 2 feet tall. He had a very distinct look about him. Grey fur, with a white chest," Satan nodded, listening intently, "bright, big, blue eyes. So round they almost looked scary sometimes. His ears, they had blue fire coming out of them, and his tail was shaped like a pitchfork. And he could use magic! He could breathe fire, and fly, effortlessly. He could talk too. Used to talk my ear off." You smiled fondly, happy to be able to talk about your favorite creature. "He'd call me Henchman, or Hench Human. He was a trouble maker. Mammon reminds me of him that way."
"Oh." Satan almost groaned.
"But much like Mammon, at the end of the day, push comes to shove, you can rely on him. That was one of the few things I knew for certain back then. Grim was the only one I could fully rely on. I had other friends, but Grim and I, we were inseparable. He was my best friend. He used to sleep in my bed with me, every night. I'm so used to it, it's honestly.... kind of hard to sleep without him." You admitted, laughing tiredly. "I miss Grim."
"Were you allowed pets, or familiars, at your last school?"
"No. No, I don't think we were." You answered after a moment of thought. "But Grim was a special case. He and I crashed the entrance ceremony. I wasn't supposed to be there, and got yoinked out of another world, but he was just straight up trespassing because he wanted so badly to go to that school, and become a great mage." You laughed at the memory. "He committed arson, I helped calm him down, and the rest is history. We weren't students, originally. We were janitors. The Headmaster only let us stay because I didn't have anywhere else to go, and I proved that Grim could be helpful."
"I thought you said you were a student?"
"I was. Half. I was half of a student." You smiled, taking a tired, yet fond, sigh. "I didn't have magic. But Grim did. So, Crowley determined that we would each be half of a student. He got us both into so much trouble, but he always helped me get out of it. I could always rely on Grim. Except in schoolwork," you admitted, laughing a little, "I was alone in that portion."
A million questions ran through his head, and you could tell the gears were turning. It was almost amusing, seeing him trying to decide on what topic to pick. Should he keep going about your cat? Pry about your headmaster? Ask about your clearly troubled past at this school?
He was quiet, but it wasn't tense, or awkward, just comfortable silence, as you patiently awaited his next question. You knew Satan would choose his words carefully, so as to not make you uncomfortable, so you had no fears. You really didn't want him to ask about Grim's homework habits though. Satan prioritized intelligence, and knowledge. You wanted him to have a good impression of Grim, since you thought the two would get along, despite Grim being similar to his older brother, Mammon.
It took him a few moments, you, peacefully sipping your favorite hot drink, as you waited patiently, reading your book, before he finally picked a topic.
"Was your headmaster, truly that bad?" He asked softly.
"His favorite trick to get me to do what he wanted, when I didn't want to, was to threaten me. My food budget, my housing budget, or even my security at the school. I had others I could rely on, should this happen. The other Housewardens tended to take pity on me when I would show up, practically begging for food, because Crowley wouldn't allow me to have any. They were good people. But I always made sure Grim had stuff to eat. I never let him suffer. He actually learned to share through this. But, a diet of tuna sandwiches, just isn't that good for your health. It was better than nothing though." You shrugged, not looking up from your book. You looked up, to see him looking at you, sadness painting his eyes. "I'm doing better now, Satan." You smiled.
"I don't want to pry, but I do have more questions." You took a deep breath.
"Can I answer them later?" You asked, to which he nodded.
"Take your time."
"Can you do me a favor?"
"Of course."
"Can you look through your books, to see if there's a spell, or an incantation, or a potion, or a ritual, that will help me get Grim? I'm worried about him, and, as you can see," you gestured to your eyebags, which Asmo had tried to hide using makeup, but it was late, so they were started to peek through, "being without him takes a toll. He's like my emotional support cat, you know? My sassy, lazy, loud, annoying, emotional support cat, that I love. And I miss."
"I'll see what I can do." He nodded. "No promises, but I'll look into it."
"That's all I ask." You smiled tiredly.
Beelzebub:
Beelzebub had eaten the majority of the fridge again, and it was your turn to make dinner. You sighed, as he looked at you guiltily. It was getting too close to when you absolutely needed to start cooking so you could serve dinner on time, so you couldn't go shopping for more. You just shook your head, and got to work taking everything out of the fridge and pantry, just to see what was left.
"I'm sorry." Beel offered. "I'll help you cook."
"I've done more with less." You said, not registering his offer, and looking over the ingredients that were left, as you had caught him before he could eat everything. "I just need some time."
"I didn't leave you much. I could go to the store, and get some more." He offered.
"Beel," You looked at him, smiling in amusement. "How much of what you get me would you eat on the way home?" He looked down guiltily once more. "I'm not mad," you assured, "really, I'm not. And I appreciate your offer of help. But I've got this." You smiled once more, before turning back to the ingredients, and picking up a few.
With what little you had, you'd started to make a large delicious meal. Beelzebub watched, in what could only be described as awe, as you stretched what you had into enough to feed the brothers, and something that tasted good. He still felt guilty about eating the majority of what you could've used to make dinner, but he was grateful you weren't mad, and he was curious as to how you knew how to make so little go so far.
After you served the brothers, you kept a little for yourself, and Beelzebub noticed. He noticed that you didn't take much, and when he tried to comment on it, you just winked at him, smiling. After dinner, he was designated for clean up, and you went into the kitchen to keep him company, as he had while you were cooking.
"How did you do that? There wasn't much left, but that was a good meal."
"My last school.... I didn't have much." You started vaguely. "My food budget was small, and often taken away, so I would take what little I was able to beg or barter for from the shop keeper, or the other Housewardens, or my friends, and I'd make it stretch. It helped that they often had some leftovers, especially Scarabia, with their feasts every week. And Jamil was a fabulous cook." You complimented, your mouth watering at the thought of his delicious and carefully prepared food. "But I digress. What I'd do is, I'd prepare meals in advance, as many as I could. I had to. Starvation sounded rather unpleasant, to me."
"It was that bad?"
"Not if I planned correctly." You smiled.
Beelzebub related to the feeling of hunger, and starvation. He was often brushed aside as always hungry because he's the Avatar of Gluttony. But the pain was always there, and it was hard to describe the pain aside from, hungry. You were always patient with him, even if he got grumpy because of his hunger, and now he was starting to see why.
If you understood the feeling of being hungry all the time, and starving to a painful point, it makes sense that you'd not get mad at him. It makes sense to him, that you'd be patient with him. He had always appreciated your patience and kindness, but he had never questioned it. Now he was starting to think he should've.
"Was it just you?"
"No. I had a cat with me. His name was Grim, and he was a lot like Mammon." You described cheerfully. "He mostly ate cans of tuna, which I could get for cheap at the school shop, they weren't super popular, and students tended to leave them at the shop after realizing they were the cheapest option of food I had." You laughed awkwardly. "It was a school of ruffians, and bullies, and people who hated me. But they had the decency to not want me to starve to death."
"You were hated?"
"By some. I wasn't popular, but I had my fair share of friends, don't worry." You assured. "I had the first years friend group, and the Housewardens, and the vice-housewardens and honorary vicehousewardens. Even a lot of the teachers liked me. And even if they didn't, I still had Grim. He was my best friend."
"Was?"
"He's still there, so he still is. We're just not together right now. It's like... it's like a part of me is missing, because he's my best friend." You tried. "And he's still there, but I can't see him, and I can't talk to him. I miss him, a lot. I think you'd like him." You smiled. "He used to sleep on my bed, every night. And he'd complain, and whine, and get both of us into trouble, but he was loyal to a fault, and he was always there when I needed him."
"Was your old headmaster that bad?"
"Oh yeah." You nodded enthusiastically. "He went on vacation so often, and it was more like I was the headmaster towards the end of my time there. What with the amount of paperwork and such I was handling in his stead. On top of schoolwork! And he put me in an old decrepit house, with a fire breathing cat. Granted, I asked for the cat to remain with me, but still. I'm sure he could've found somewhere else to put me."
"That sounds awful."
"It could be. But hey, think of it this way, now I'm prepared if you do this again." You teased. He nodded. "Don't feel too bad, Beel. You didn't even know I existed, you couldn't have done anything."
"I wish you would've told us."
"It's not easy to talk about." You admitted. "It's not like... I had the best experience with a lot of people there. I mean, Overblots, burnout, hunger, on top of basically being an unpaid therapist, an unpaid headmaster, and a full-time student? I was busy, and not every experience is a pleasant one. But it's a part of my life, and I wouldn't change it for anything. Because it was my experience." You explained. He nodded in understanding. "I think you'd like the people I met before. So many good cooks. And Lilia, who is on par with Solomon." You shuddered. "But there was also so many athletics clubs. I bet you'd really like Spelldrive." You smiled.
"Spelldrive?"
"Yeah!"
As you launched into an in-depth explanation of the sport, at least as you understood it, he simply watched. He was glad you'd opened up to him, and to hear that you weren't always alone. He would probably ask Satan if he could find anything about getting your cat for you. But for now, he was just happy to see you being comfortable enough to talk about your past.
Belphegor:
Belphegor liked to visit your dreams whenever you'd let him. They were always so interesting. They almost matched you, in that regard. As you were so strange in his eyes. He was very lucky, able to explore your good dreams. Dreams that told of friends, and adventure. Light hardship, sure, but mostly wonder. And happiness. Along with a cat that seemed to pop up in every dream. He didn't know that he only saw this because he didn't always tune into your dreams. Not every dream is a happy one.
It was one day, when you happened to be taking a nap in his general vicinity, that he drifted off, and entered your dream. He prepared himself for the bright light of the outside of Night Raven College, and for the happy smiling faces, or the sound of laughter, as he usually saw when he joined your in your dreams. What he wasn't expecting, was the fire. The screaming, the fear. He was prepared to watch on happily as you got to see your friends, the people you consider family, in your dreams, but instead, he only saw your terror.
He couldn't look away as you looked on in terror as eight towering figures, covering in black ink, with massive ink monsters behind them cornered you. He recognized some of these faces, they were those of your friends. They were friends, friends who would drive you to work harder, and do better, but would always be there to help in any way they could, if they could, when you asked.
But there was one face he was shocked to see, moreso than the friends. It was your cat. Your cat that had been changed into a hulking, massive beast, and it looked more wild than he had ever seen. It wasn't talking anymore, none of those smart ass comments he'd overhear, it was growling at you, roaring at you. It had never done that before.
Belphegor, unable to stand by as you feared for your life, even in a dream, quickly made his way to in front of you, his back to you.
"You need to wake up."
You heard him, but his voice was muddled in your panic, it sounded like he was under water. You looked at him in confusion.
"What?"
"Wake! UP!" He commanded.
You shot up, gasping for air, as you woke up. Belphegor followed not long after, making his way over, and sitting beside you, as you began to calm down from such a panic-inducing dream. He sat beside you until your breathing was under control, and you weren't shaking as much anymore.
You leaned onto him, your head resting on his shoulder, and feeling embarrassed. It wasn't often that you had these nightmares, but they were always intense and unpleasant when you did. You didn't think he knew, he'd never visited those dreams. It's not as though you were actively hiding it, you'd told him that you'd had nightmares before, but you were ashamed that he had seen them firsthand.
You both just sat in silence for several moments, before he spoke first.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, softly.
"They don't know about the nightmares. I mean, my closer friends do, but those who the nightmares are about, don't. They don't need that."
"Why are they in your nightmares? And why did they look like that?"
"They lost control of their emotions, and their magic overwhelmed them. They weren't in control, when they looked like that. That was their anger, and sadness, their pain, that was in control of them, with their magic creating the ink monsters behind them." You explained, quietly. "I don't blame them, no one can be expected to hold it together for so long, but that doesn't make it any less unpleasant."
"And your cat?"
"I don't know why I have nightmares about him like that." You admitted. "I think it's because I miss him, and I'm scared of what will happen to him without me there."
"How long have you had these nightmares?"
"They started after the first Overblot, that's what they're called," you explained simply, "but they only got worse as more Overblots happened."
"Was there no one you could go to?" You shook your head.
"I couldn't go to Crowley, he was useless," you laughed humorlessly, "the teachers were nice, but they couldn't do anything. I told my friends, and they tried their best, but nothing ever really helped. Grim used to sleep on my bed with me, and that would chase the nightmares away pretty well, but," you trailed off.
"You don't have him with you now, so the nightmares are back with a vengeance?" You nodded, smiling a little at his wording. He wrapped an arm around you. "Do you miss him?"
"I do."
He knew you did, he knew that was a redundant question. But he wanted to hear it from you, as a sort of confirmation. He felt bad that you missed your cat, and he wished he could do something about it, but he knew he couldn't. So you two just sat in silence, comforted by the warmth of the room, and the calm atmosphere around the two of you.
He had always wondered why, or even how, you'd taken his actions in stride. How you'd forgiven him so easily. He knew now, that it was just in your nature after having gone through so much at your last school. He decided in that moment that he'd make an effort to be the person to hold a grudge on your behalf, to let people know that you may have forgiven them, but he certainly hasn't, and he hasn't forgotten what they've done to you. He didn't voice this, but he knew that you knew how he felt.
But for now, you two just sat there, comfortable, and warm. He wanted to apologize, and say he'd do everything in his power to get you your cat, but he didn't want to say that without a guarantee that he could do it. So there you sat, close, and comfortable.
"I'll chase your nightmares away." He offered, just barely a whisper, yet because of your proximity, you heard it.
"Thanks Belphie." You smiled tiredly, happy to hear that he would protect your dreams.
You drifted off not long after, Belphie following close behind. But he kept his word, and your nightmares didn't plague you after that, whenever Belphie could help it.
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redishsunflowers · 2 days ago
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this is all my personal opinion as a somewhat new arcane enjoyer.
act 3 of arcane really ruined it all for me. one of the things that makes me love shows so much is when they make me just feel so so much. and arcane did this so well, especially in s1. act 1 and 2 of s2 also did this very well, tho not even close to as well as s1 in my opinion.
i felt sad about isha's death, but i don't really care about jinx's. this isn't bc i cared more abt isha than jinx, a million percent no, this is bc it didnt feel liek there was any weight to it. we saw a very small clip of vi sobbing then, boom, she's almost fine???? her humming powder's lullaby isn't enough, i need to see her grieve. jinx literally completely gave up because of isha's death. vi wasn't even close to being in the same position as jinx but that was still her sister. her sister whom she tried so hard to protect and get back and finally got her back. it just didn't feel real. and on top of that, everyone thinks she's not actually dead. i wish they showed the "proof" of that later or something because i needed that grieving period from vi.
i felt so strongly about jayvik and their whole dynamic snd ending this season. in act 2 i felt that the writing for caitvi wasn't as good as it was in s1 and act 1 but then it just pissed me off at the end. i kinda liked the fact that they were in a cell when they had sex lol but i feel like it was weird timing and also could be a weird setting. but what rlly got me was the fact they don't fucking talk. they dont talk it out. one of the bjggest reasons i love jayvik is because of their lines too eachother. theyre so devestating and beautiful and thats what we got with caitvi before act 2. i was hoping they would talk about alllll the problems they were having because they were having a lot but, either they didn't or we just didn't see it. the resolution to jayvik was so satisfying because we got to know all of their closing thoughts and emotions. we didn't get to see cait apologizing or vi talking abt jinx and it just felt so emotionless.
im really sad they got rid of all the political stuff. i feel like the first step to doing that was putting vi in an enforcer outfit but with that i thought theyd explore into it and the trauma around it even more. but they didnt at all. they put more of the oppressed into the oppressors outfits and called it "fighting against a greater evil" i think thats a fine thing to happen but not if you throw away the whole conversation about politics you were having beforehand. i felt enger towards the piltover people and council just because they were a part of the oppressive regime. after s1 i felt like they tried to act like those ppl were never in the wrong. they swept it all under the rug.
it really just felt like there wasn't a clear conclusion. what happened to zaun and piltover? the scene of sevika sitting at the table isn't enough (don't get me started on sevika I MISS HER). what happened to the firelights?? everyone says ekko lost everything but like do we know what happened to the tree or to the firelights??? i wanted to see the progress the two cities made and how PILTOVER compensated for their actions.
thats it ig, im rlly trying to be happy abt the ending and to do that i have to think abt jayvik bc theyre the only perfect ending in my eyes and i miss caitvi i miss them
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bokunokamijirou · 2 days ago
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lowk hear me out:
post war, touya is recovering in the hospital, and rei comes and visits reader in jail to learn more about her son since they were dating 🥺
A Mother's Word
TouyaxF!Reader
ft. Rei Todoroki
You had told the guards no visitors. You knew if anyone were to come see you, it'd just be to laugh in your face.
The war wasn't kind to you, but it was harsher to your boyfriend, Touya. While he was burning alive with his family, you were attempting to subdue heroes far from your love.
It's what All For One insisted upon, so you had to listen.
But you didn't join the League for him. Not even for Touya. The message that Shigaraki was spreading about a world where people who were seen as villains had the same chances as heroes? That was something you wanted, no, needed to believe in. Your family abandoned you when you were younger, and you'd been running along the streets ever since.
You joined the League and found your new family, purpose, and the love of your life.
You just didn't know what it meant, loving Dabi. Because you didn't love him, no, well- maybe you did. But it was Touya, the man he was when it was just you two, alone- that's who you love.
So, imagine your surprise when you discover his own mother had arrived to visit you. You had only heard short stories about Rei, and you weren't entirely sure what to expect when you met her.
The guards approach you, asking if you'd see her. She hid behind them clutching her bag, but the sadness and exhaustion across her face made you feel sympathetic. He had her eyes, after all.
"Okay, just this once," you manage to croak out as you suddenly feel self-concsious. What could she want? Is Touya recovering still? Is Endeavour coming too? He better not, you'd go feral trying to hurt him. Even if Touya didn't want you to, you'd always hate that man for what he did to his family.
"I- I was just visiting Touya in the hospital yesterday" Rei says quietly as she stands in front of the bars caging you in. "He was asking about you."
"Typical Touya, worried more about me than he is about himself. I'm doing fine..." you reply coldly, avoiding eye contact.
"He- he said he wanted me to meet you." Rei placed her hand gently on the metal bars separating you both.
You stop and glance up at her, the way her eyes were pleading for answers made you freeze. "He said that to me too, before, you know-" you respond softly this time.
"Can you... can you tell me about him?" Rei's voice cracks as she asks.
"About him?" You look at her puzzled.
"My son, he was so young when he disappeared that I- what's he like?" Rei questioned, her eyes wide.
"Touya... Touya he's-" You start and choke back the tears that are trying to fall. "He's an idiot. He doesn't think before he jumps into danger because he's not afraid to die... that's how we met actually." You smile fondly as you wipe the small drops of water off your cheeks.
"I was supposed to just do recon for the League, my first solo mission. But it was a trap and the heroes had me cornered. I didn't know what to do- I froze. I was ready to give up. Then Touya just kind of showed up, right in front of me. Didn't even think twice."
Rei hesitantly smiles as she nods, "That sounds a lot like Touya, glad to know he didn't lose that part of him."
"He's protective, that's for sure. Got jealous easily... whenever they'd send me on missions without him he'd find some way to tag along. I think that ever since we met, it was like he felt he had to protect me... like he was afraid to ever lose me" you start to cry and let your head fall into your hands.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry dear. I didn't mean to make you cry," Rei frowns.
"I love him so much... you created a beautiful son- I just miss him so much" you manage to sob out.
Rei nods, wiping her own tears, “what else do you love about him?”
“He was honest with me… he told me about you all too, before we even started dating…”
Rei freezes, but continues listening.
“He’s a great listener. Lets me talk about anything. And god, when you get him started, he never shuts up…” You smile to yourself. “What I’d do to hear his stupid voice again…”
"He's going to be okay... he's recovering..." She smiles reassuringly but with a pang of sadness.
"Can you tell him something for me the next time you see him?" You ask her hopefully. Rei nods in response.
"No goodbyes, I'll see you soon, idiot." you smile and finally lift your head to meet Rei's eyes once more. She smiles and nods.
You didn’t think this was how you’d meet your future mother-in-law, but your relationship with Touya had never been predictable anyways.
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tarithenurse · 2 days ago
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Don't hide it
Fandom: MCU Pairing/starring: Loki Odinson x/& fem!reader Word count: 1071 Content: Pining, shyness, too much empathy, fluff. A/N: Waiting for a better idea so here’s this in the meantime. Feel free to reblog if you liked it – it’s always nice with new readers. Comments are fuel for more!
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Don’t hide it
Following in your friend’s footsteps, you’re grateful that Loki knows you well enough to draw you away from the feast and all the people there. Few will miss him even though he’s a prince and you...well, you’re no one important save for a rich man’s daughter who is too timid to mingle with the upper echelon of Asgard.
After a quick detour past a storage room and the kitchens, Loki and you have gathered ample supplies to last you the night and have gone where no one will look for you: the hayloft above the stables.
Sitting on the soft blankets and furs, you can look down at the stalls with horses who are half asleep or chewing lazily on their fodder.
“Here,” Loki grins as he hands you a bottle of honeyed mead, “there’s lots.”
You’ve managed to snag fruits and cheeses and meats aside from quite a few bottles of the sweet drink.
Allowing the contents of the bottle to soothe your throat, you sneak a glance at your friend who’s doing the same. You notice how his throat bobs with each pull, how his jaw bone could cut glass...and then you have to look away before your thoughts get carried to unwanted territory.
You’ve known Loki since you were five and you’ve been close friends since then. You’ve also, regrettably, developed a deeper attraction to the prince over the last few years – one that you know will never be a possibility. That’s what makes it so painful to be with him: he is the only one who knows you truly...and still you can’t tell him this one thing for fear of ruining a friendship.
“Mother is starting to host more of these balls, it seems,” Loki muses.
I’ve noticed it too. And you know why.
“Of course...both you and your brother are still not betrothed or even in relations with anyone,” you shrug before you can stop yourself.
Loki falls onto his back with a groan. “I shall let Thor have this without competition.” Another groan. “Betrothed. Relations. No thank you.” Then he props himself up by the elbow. “What about you? Are your parents not inviting suitors over for you?”
You grimace at the thought. “I’m sure it will come soon enough.”
“I can imagine it...you being the hostess and the centre of attention.”
Looking about for strands of hay to braid, you don’t notice the darkness in his eyes and he schools his facial expression before you look up at him again.
“I’d rather die,” you sigh.
It’d be torture having to greet one suitor after the other. You don’t feel comfortable around stranger or in the company of many people. That’s why you’d agreed to sneak out of this night’s feast when Loki suggested it.
Keen to change the subject too, Loki studies your features for a moment. He quite likes how you always keep your hands occupied and he’s said so in the past. He’s the only one who seems to like your odd habits.
“Not that I do not cherish our little escapades away from the crowds...but we must see to cure you of your shyness,” he suddenly announces.
“And how do you suppose we do that?” you shoot back.
He shrugs. “Depends what you fear by being near them.”
“It is not fear it is...” You have to search for the right term but come up with nothing. “It’s as though I sense all they feel, all their sentiments. Anger, joy, sadness.”
“Love?”
“Sometimes, yes...but not always.”
Loki takes a swig from the bottle, clearly considering your words. “Then you must learn to shift your attention to their physical presence instead.”
You can’t hold back the hopeless laugh. “How?”
“Imagine them naked.”
You almost choke on the mead, having all too clearly imagined him naked before you – not for the first time but more clearly now.
“Then I think I would be equally shy albeit for different reasons,” you argue once you can speak again, avoiding to meet his gaze.
Falling back on the furs and blankets, none of you say anything for a while. The only sounds are from the large creatures below and a mouse tip-tapping along a secret path on the other side of the hay.
You know Loki is thinking. He always thinks.
“Perhaps...you must simply trust that you are better than them,” he offers softly.
A scoff escapes your lips. There’s no reason to state the obvious and Loki should know as much.
Hearing the rustle of the hay beneath the furs, you sense more than see Loki scoot closer until you are lying next to each other. Then he reaches to cup your cheek, turning your face to meet his.
“I mean it. Why can’t you see it?” he admonishes softly. There’s something you can’t figure out in his voice and his gaze. Something almost painful. “You read people better than anyone I know...and you know me better than anyone...why won’t you trust me?”
His hand is cool on your skin. For a brief second your eyes stray to his lips and a sudden urge to kiss him fill you...yet you do nothing. You just close your eyes and relish the nearness.
“It’s not that I do not trust you, Loki,” you begin to explain, “but you’re my friend a-”
“Don’t take my word for it as a friend. Hear me as...as a man,” he growls, causing shivers to run down your spine and something to bloom in the pit of your stomach. “I see all the other ladies at the feasts yet none of them are as wonderful as you.”
Opening your eyes, you’re met with blazing sincerity. “What do you mean?”
“For someone as emotionally gifted, you truly are dense right now.”
You would have recoiled at his harsh words. Would have served a rebuttal or asked for a clarification once more, maybe. But all of that is lost to you the moment his dips his head down and kisses you.
Fierce. Lips pressing hard together and noses squishing together slightly. You’re too surprised to do anything but grasp of the collar of his tunic, holding you steady in a world that suddenly seems to dip and rotate around the two of you.
You’re both out of breath by the time he pulls back, watching you intently.
“Do you understand now?” he asks quietly.
You nod. Then pull him down for a kiss more.
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theconstantsidekick · 6 hours ago
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Everybody Loves A Clown
Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x BestFriend!Reader
Genre: fluff covered angst
Summary: John died a week ago, and Dean's been weird. Sam's been up his ass about it but it finally comes to a head when Y/n decides to talk to him about the whole thing.
a/n: it has an open ending but i can write more if y'all eat this up
Warnings: Smoking, mentions of smoking, romanticisation of smoking, a lot of that yes, sorry. Don't smoke kids
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“You were right,” Sam admits.
“About what?” Dean asks from where he stands over the Impala, wrench in hand.
“About me and Dad,” Sam answers with red eyes and a crack in his voice. “I’m sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I’m sorry that I spent most of my life angry with him. I mean, for all I know he died thinking that I hate him.” He pauses. “So, you’re right. What I’m doing right now, it’s too little… It’s too late.” His lips tremble. There’s a self-deprecating smile on his lips as he continues, “I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I’m not all-right. Not at all.” There’s tears in his eyes now as he stares directly at Dean. “But neither are you. That much I know.” He waits for a second, seeing if Dean might answer, and still knowing that he won’t. “I’ll let you get back to work.” With that he walks off.
Dean doesn’t know what to… do.
He fidgets.
He paces and fidgets.
He clenches his jaw hard enough for it to hurt and then he paces and fidgets some more. 
Until his eyes fall on her.
“The fuck do you want?” He asks her.
In turn for his crude tone and cruder words, he is given half a smile. “Nothing,” she tells him.
“Then what the hell are you doin’ here?” He bites back. 
To her credit, she doesn’t flinch away at his harshness. No, she just smiles wider. 
She gets to her feet from where she was sitting on the steps of the shed behind them and walks over to Dean. She pulls something out of her pocket as she asks, “Asking, if you want a cigarette?”
The lack of pretence throws Dean off completely. “What?” is all that he can bring himself to say.
She shrugs, shaking the pack of menthols in her hands. “You want one?”
Dean, again, is met with the curiously unsolvable puzzle that is Y/N and left struck. “I didn’t know you smoked?” It’s a stupid thing to say, all things considered. But the fact that the answer is stupider consoles him some.
“I don’t!” she exclaims, a little too defensive to be God's honest truth. She pulls one cigarette out of the box. “Do you want one or not?” She throws the box at him. 
Dean catches it on reflex. 
“Fuckin’ menthols,” Dean curses looking at the box, but pulls one out for himself all the same. 
“Might make your swimmers less effective,” she says a little too easily as she lights his cigarette, “but they’re a certified cure to sadness.” She smiles, lighting her own. And standing this close, with the flame from the lighter painting her all shades of yellow, Dean has to physically pull himself away. He has to will himself to take a step back and catch his breath. He gulps and takes a drag. He is clenching his jaw again.
“You should mind what you’re sayin’ while lighting a guy’s cigarette. Talking about my ‘swimmers’ when you’re an inch away from my face?” He shakes his head. “Another guy might take it the wrong way.”
“Or the right way,” she mutters, so jumbled and wrong, Dean’s not even sure he heard it correctly.
“What?” 
“Nothing,” she dismisses him off handedly, a little too easily. 
He decides to let it pass, because again, he’s not sure he heard it right. And if he did, he’s not sure he has the mental wherewithal to be able to deal with that implication. So, he lets it pass. 
Besides, she doesn’t really give him any other option. “You remember how Sam was when Jess died last year?”
“It was last fucking year, yes! ‘Course I remember it,” Dean throws back, exhaling smoke out as he speaks.
She nods, “And?”
He knows what she’s getting at. “Sam was a mess,” he answers the unasked question. “I’m not like that.”
“That’s precisely the point I’m trying to make,” she states, taking a drag. “Not the second half, the first. Sam deals with emotions very openly. He… He lets himself fall apart and crumble. That’s what he’s gonna do now. He’s gonna get sad and he’s going to try and do things that John would have wanted him to do when he was alive. He is going to feel guilty and he is going to be a mess… because he deals with death, like he deals with everything else. He’s not emotionally constipated like you are. He’s normal…” She shakes her head slowly from side to side, reconsidering her words. “Or well, as normal as anyone in this line of work can be.”
Dean takes another puff. “Well, does he have to drag me into it?”
“Yes!” She answers, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
And it fucking isn’t. “Why?!”
“Because he isn’t used to this.”
“What? Death? We just established that—”
She shakes her head at him like he’s being difficult for the sake of it… Maybe he is, but it’s not fair for her to be able to read him that easily. She cuts him off then, with, “No. He’s not used to you being like this.” And the words hit him hard. She must see it too because then she pauses and brings the cigarette to her lips and takes a long drag. “He’s used to the flirty, cocky Dean, who’s an overall dickhead.” When she exhales the smoke, it’s thick and white. Don’t smoke, my ass, Dean thinks to himself. “He’s going to ask you if you need something. He’s going to try to make you feel better and he’s going to keep checking up on you, because he has never seen you—his big brother—bereft before.”
And fuck, if she isn’t talking complete and utter sense. 
He runs a tired hand over his face, cigarette clipped between the index and the middle finger. “And what, you have?”
He’s not very good at people assessing him and his brother emotionally so accurately, okay? He needs to retaliate.
“No,” she replies easily with a smile. “When your mom passed away you were too young, and with everything that followed, I’m not even sure you had the opportunity to deal with it. This might as well be your first time dealing with loss.”
He clicks his tongue and raises his brows briefly in semi-agreement. And having been assess accurately once again, “Well, isn’t that just fucked?”
She nods. “It is.” She brings the cigarette to her lips. “But at least you’ve got me.”
He laughs. 
It’s kind of cruel that he does and he knows it.
But he laughs, because what the fucking hell?
And again, he’s fully aware of his cruelty in this moment and ready for the repercussions. 
What he isn’t ready for is to look at her and see her wearing a smile instead of a hurt look on her face.
“You think you’re gonna save me, sweetheart?” He retorts, adding to his asshole-ry.
She shrugs. “I don’t think I’m meant to save you, Dean,” she says, all too politely while taking a puff from the cigarette. “I just meant…” she looks at him. “I know what you’re going through.”
“No, you fucking don’t.” His words are harsh and cold and painful and mean.
You’ll break her, he thinks. You’ll break her and it’ll hurt worse than anything ever could.
But she doesn’t seem to be breaking. “Your dad died ‘cause of a demon and you feel responsible for it—”
“I don’t feel responsible for it, I am responsible for it. He died to save my life. It was supposed to be me who you salt and burned, not him! It was me who was supposed to be dead, not him!” And he’ll carry that weight with him for the rest of his fucking life. “You have no fucking idea what I’m going through.”
Her eyes are locked to his as she counters without hesitation. “My brother died because of a demon and I feel responsible for it.”
Dean can do nothing but close his eyes and yell out in frustration, “It’s not the same!”
“Isn’t it?” she bites back, standing straight and unmoving in the face of Dean’s rage. She doesn’t let him answer. “It was supposed to be my job. I was supposed to be the one who got possessed by a demon and driven around like a meat-suit. I was supposed to be the one who died in a freakin’ basement like a rat. It was my job, Dean. I was the first call, the second and the third… But I just decided to ignore it. But he didn’t… ‘Cause he’s nicer than I am…” She winces, looking away. She looks hurt for the first time since they began this conversation. And it seems she’d done it to herself. Because then she corrects, “Was nicer…” She takes another drag from her cigarette. “So, fuck you. But I know what you’re going through.”
He bites his lips.
Then he lets his head fall.
Because as much as he’d like to fight her on this, he can’t. 
She’s right… as usual.
He doesn’t know what to say to any of that so he stays quiet. Moreover, he thinks he’s kinda supposed to. Because she doesn’t swear often, even less so at him. So yeah, zipping it might be the right call here.
She takes charge then, as he begins pacing and smoking once more. “This might be your first go around at grief. Sam’s second. But, for once, I’m the season player.” 
When he turns to look at her, she’s smiling.
“Does that mean you’re gonna keep fucking smiling at me like that?” He retaliates, again. He’s already told you the logic behind that one.
“Sorry,” she holds up her hands in surrender. “I don’t mean to. I’m not smiling at you—not really.” She smiles again. “It’s just… It’s just that look on your face. I’ve seen it before.”
“I thought we just established you’ve never seen me like this before?”
“No, not on you,” she clarifies.
“Then?”
“In the mirror,” she tells him honestly. “Every morning for the last three years.”
Fuck him. Fuck this. And fuck everything.
A part of him, a selfless and kind part of him wishes she didn’t get him, wishes she’d rather be hurt at his words than look at him with so much understanding.
But another part of him, the selfish and unkind part of him, is comforted by the fact that at least someone does, in fact, get him. Even more so, he’s comforted by the fact that it’s her.
“So, take it from someone with experience,” she begins then, breaking him out of his mind numbing miserable thoughts. “You’re gonna wanna explode. You’re gonna wanna break something.”
“You got a cure for that, oh experienced one?”
She smiles again. “Yeah, break it.”
“What??”
She shrugs all too easily, taking another drag. “If you can find something you can break, that won’t hurt anyone, that you could ideally fix, then yeah! Break it.”
He stops pacing to look at her and cocks her head. “Will it make me feel better?” He is genuinely curious.
She outright laughs at him then, “No!” She brings her foot up and butt the cigarette on the back of her boot, sending embers falling to the ground like fireworks. “Nothing ever will…” She looks back at him, still smiling, “But it'll help.”
Dean sighs. 
He nods.
And then he throws the cigarette to the ground, steps on it and then walks over to the side. He picks up a crowbar, and then he walks back to the Impala. He grips the crowbar tighter and then he smashes the window. 
Then he starts slamming it into the trunk, over and over and over and over again. It clatters to the ground. 
He keeps at it till there’s a hole in the metal near as big as the one in his heart. 
And when he’s done, he lets the crowbar fall to the ground and pulls the packet of smokes out of his pocket. He grabs a cigarette and places it right between his lips. When he looks up, she’s close to him again, lighter in hand.
She looks at him and he looks at her.
Then she lights his cigarette. “How’d it feel?”
“It didn’t make me feel any better,” he replies, handing her the packet back to her when she smiles at him. “But it helped.”
She nods, and takes the entire packet to her lips, with her teeth she pulls one cigarette out and then lights it, pocketing the packet and lighter in one go. “Look, I know you… You don’t know how to deal with this, and as much as I want to, I can’t really help you with it either but unlike me, Sam’s not gonna get it.”
“I know,” he tells her. Because he knows that his brother means well, but he has a tendency of being too in your face about it. 
She hums in agreement, as if hearing her thoughts. And fuck, if he’s to go by her track record, maybe she can. “You’re gonna wanna get mad, go crazy and lash out. So… I’m suggesting that you do that with me, instead of him.” Her eyes are too fucking kind as she adds, “If you want to get mad, go crazy and lash out—lash out at me, get mad at me.”
Dean can’t fucking breathe.
“Why?” he asks.
“‘Cause he’s grieving too.”
“That the only reason?” he asks, hoping for… well, you know what he’s hoping for. You’re his inner monologue.
She tilts her head with a sweet smile. “You gotta mind what you’re saying, Winchester. Being emotionally vulnerable when you’re an inch away from my face? Another woman might take it the wrong way.”
He can’t help himself.
He snorts.
“Or the right way,” he says then with a smile of his own. 
And fuck it all, her face turns red at the realisation that he’d heard her. 
He loves it so fucking much that he’s not even bummed about her taking a step away from him.
“Asshole,” she curses him, but her heart’s not in it.
“I’ve got one condition though,” he says and watches confusion break onto her face. “For lashing out at you instead of Sam.”
She shakes her head fondly, at his wording. “What is it?”
“You promise to do the same.” It’s the kindest thing he can offer her. His misery, in exchange for hers.
She chuckles at that. Morbid as it may be, their sense of humor was always on par with each other. “Sure,” she says. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
He raises his hand, cigarette still wedged between his fingers, “Shake on it?”
Apparently, that’s the wrong thing to say ‘cause then she makes a disgusted face like the hand he’s offered is covered in snot. 
Slapping it away, she throws the smoke in her hands away and she steps closer. And then hugs him. 
The action catches Dean off-guard. 
It takes a second for his brain and his heart to have a meeting and catch up with each other. And then finally his brain sends the signal out for his to hands drop the cigarette and wrap around her. 
Probably encouraged by him hugging her back, her grip on him tightens. And fuck if that doesn’t thaw Dean’s cold, broken, blackened heart. He happily does the same, snuggling his face into her neck and breathing her in.
They stay like that for a bit, until Dean realises she’s waiting on him, letting him have his fill.
Reluctantly, eventually, Dean lets her go. 
When he does, if she can spot his misty eyes, she doesn’t mention it. 
Instead she says, “Now, hand me the crowbar.”
“Huh?”
“What, you think I don’t wanna break shit?”
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katatty · 2 days ago
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Shifting Priorities
Thank you for all the nice comments yesterday! Some really helpful perspectives that gave me a lot of ideas on how I can tackle my simmer's block :)
Mostly, I think I need to trim down the number of neighbourhoods I consider "active" and the amount of projects I am doing in general. I have a hard time letting go of neighbourhoods, especially if I am still somewhat invested in them! But I also need to face the fact that I only have so much free time, and do not want playing the sims to be the sole thing I do with that free time XD
For some neighbourhoods I will also be trying out a more stripped-down approach to blogging, similar to what I've been doing with Driftwood. It makes me a little sad because I like my sims to feel fleshed out as characters and giving them voices is a big part of that! But maybe I can save the prose/dialogue for times when it is particularly needed, rather than including it as a default.
Finally, I am going to prioritise based on what I actually have the most fun with, rather than letting popularity drive my decisions!! Some neighbourhoods I feel sad about potentially retiring because I know people enjoy them, or I feel bad admitting I am never going to finish projects people were excited for, but I have to remember simming is something I do for myself, not for popularity or for other people.
So, plans for my neighbourhoods:
Pleasantview Plus - will continue in its current form for the most part, but holdholds I found less inspiring will just get short summaries rather than extensive documentation. This hood is waaaaaaay too big and I think not that many people follow it all that closely, but it's also my one true love and I would like to start prioritising it again rather than it always being on the backburner
Uberhood Challenge (YouTube Series) - This is a short-term series, and will continue as planned until I finish the challenge, which I'm over halfway through :)
Hollyhead - I hate to say it because I know a lot of people love it, but I feel like I have sorta outgrown this neighbourhood? Some simmers like their settings to be an escape from the real world, and when I made Hollyhead I think it was what I needed too, but these days I find how upbeat & wholesome it is a bit, idk, constraining?? I crave drama and conflict in my stories!! I also have kinda lost interest in the BACC rules and have started to find it more book-keeping and hassle for what I get out of it... Whenever I do open the neighbourhood I still really enjoy actually playing it, and I love the characters so much, but I just haven't found the events interesting enough to want to write about. I think this neighbourhood will not be retired completely (yet), but I will move towards writing much shorter updates in the form of newspaper articles and see if that helps. If by the end of this season I still feel ehhh about it, I might formally end it <3
Driftwood - no complaints about this hood, I'll probably continue with the current style of documenting major events & new builds only
Spruceburg (YouTube series) - I would like to do another season of this next year, after I finish the uberhood challenge! But I will probably go for a schedule of like, one season of series per year, rather than posting consistantly. I enjoy YouTube a lot, but its a lot of work too and I think has majorly taken away from my blogging time this year, which I am mourning now lol!!
The Fiero Legacy - it is probably time to throw in the towel with this and admit I just don't enjoy playing legacy style or with story progression that much! I always enjoy the period where the heir is dating but once they settle down and have kids it becomes a chore and a grind, plus with story progression's time system I always feel rushed and like I can't take a sim out of the house for an outing without potentially missing important milestones - the urban setting feels so wasted when its all family gameplay, haha. Hallie should be at the club!! It was an interesting experiment and a nice change of pace, but idk if I really see myself returning to it. I love the sims themselves and the setting, but whenever I actually load up the neighbourhood I just feel kinda stressed and overwhelmed :(
As for my building projects like Belladonna Cove, perhaps at some point I will get really inspired and return to them but for now they are on indefinite break. I remember saying a few time in the past that I didn't really feel much need to make over Pleasantview and Strangetown because if I wanted nice makoevers I would use frottanas, and tbh I feel the same way about Belladonna Cove - if I was playing it I would just use plumbtales makeovers XD With my past neighbourhood makeovers I was really inspired to make them because there wasn't anything out there that was exactly what I wanted but, well, there's loooooads of nice Belladonna cove makeovers these days so I just don't feel much drive to make my own version I guess?? I think I also have lost interest in building a little becasue I am no longer into super heavily decorated lots - I prefer lighter lots that won't cause lag lol! So yeah, I am probably not retiring from building forever but its no longer a priority for me :)
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lynzishell · 6 hours ago
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Prev // Next
Transcript below the cut:
Atlas: Dawn. Dawn: I know. Atlas: You crossed so many lines. Dawn: I know, okay? I know.
Atlas: Why didn’t you come to me? We could’ve talked it through before you did anything. Dawn: I… I didn’t think you’d understand. Atlas: That’s fair. I’m not sure I do. Dawn: Exactly.
Atlas: So, help me understand then. Explain it to me. Dawn: [sighs] Getting married and having a baby… it brought up a lot of feelings I wasn’t prepared for. Atlas: What kind of feelings?
Dawn: Feelings about mom. I hated that she wasn’t there, that she wouldn’t want to be, that she doesn’t even know she has a granddaughter and probably never will. I was sad and I was angry, and some days I even missed her which really caught me off guard. I started to wish that she was there, that she’d realize the ways she failed us and show up wanting to make amends.
Atlas: Why didn’t you tell me any of this? Dawn: [shrugs] I didn’t want to admit it, kept telling myself that I was being silly, that I should stop clinging to this idea of a mother that I’ll never have.   Atlas: What about Megan? I know she’s not your mom, but she loves you and she stepped in to help.
Dawn: I know. And I’m so grateful, I really am, but I couldn’t appreciate it at the time. Her being there almost made it more obvious what I was lacking, like it was being shoved in my face. This is going to sound so childish, but I didn’t want those things with her, I wanted them with my own mom, and I hated that I couldn’t have that. I became resentful, and then I felt guilty for not appreciating her.
Atlas: I had no idea.
Dawn: That’s because I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want anyone to. I thought if I told anyone, they’d think I was awful, so I kept it to myself, and it ate me up. And when Phoenix got that letter from his dad, it was like everything I wanted was being handed to him, and he wanted to just throw it away. I couldn’t let it go, and I let all that shit I’d been carrying cloud my judgement.
Atlas: Talk about shit timing. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.
Dawn: Yeah. It was not my finest hour. Atlas: So, how are things now?
Dawn: They’re good. Phoenix spent a few days in Chestnut Ridge, got to meet his brother and talk things out with his dad. It was a struggle at first, but things are going well. He’s decided to give his dad a chance. He says it’s for Danny, because he wants to stay in touch with him, but I think it’s more than that.
Atlas: And you? How are you doing with everything? Dawn: Better. Li referred me to a therapist. I’ve only had one session so far, but I think it will be good for me. Atlas: That’s great. Li sounds like a good friend. Dawn: She is. I’m really glad I met her.
Dawn: So, what about you? You’re married now! Atlas: I know. Who would’ve thought? Dawn: Oh please. I always knew you two would get there eventually. Can’t say I’m not disappointed I didn’t get to be there for it, though. Atlas: I know, but we had to do it our way. And I’m really happy. Dawn: And I’m really happy for you. How is he doing, by the way?
Atlas: I don’t know. He’s struggling a bit. Hasn’t really been himself since we got home. Dawn: Losing Japer really hit him hard, didn’t it? Atlas: Yeah, it did. But I feel like there’s something more going on. Dawn: Like what?
Atlas: I’m not sure, but he’ll talk to me when he’s ready. He always does. Dawn: Ough, I wish I had your patience.
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twopoppies · 2 days ago
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Oh my god, I think I just argued with a teenager on this hellsite about an international relations fact that they do not seem to understand. I'm in my 30s. Gina how do you handle being polite to people who are demonstrably incorrect about checkable facts (not like Larry, like a law that you can read about and is real and official) without saying something condescending like "you are so young you don't understand this yet but you will." I didn't say that but that's kind of how I felt. Also I'm a moron for getting into it and then realizing that they're coming across as very young and I think they truly just cannot understand it yet because they haven't lived enough life.
Oh lord. That really is incredibly frustrating. It’s so weird because I know as a teenager I often thought adults just “don’t get it.” But I also was at least aware enough to know that I definitely didn’t know everything and you can learn something from literally everyone you come in contact with. I feel sad for a lot of younger people today because they’re so caught up in these weird performative behaviors that they miss out on so much.
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cinderblockgabbs · 15 hours ago
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Hi here’s a loooooooooonggg rant from the one that can’t go on without inserting Wilford into every egos life in any way possible…
For context: I see engineer mark as a separate person from actor mark, but he’s also like actors self insert, or how he interprets himself if he were an awesome engineer in the year 2080- something. This doesn’t mean that they’re the same person, at least not anymore, they just have a lot of the Same personality traits and the same name.
I also see a large portion of iswm in general as a really messed up retelling of wkm that’s been retold and reset so many times it’s become a completely new and different thing. This isn’t saying that every iswm character is supposed to symbolize every wkm character, but at one point, SOME were vaguely based off of marks interpretation of his wkm friends. It’s kinda like an answer to the ship of Theseus.
Anyways, One of the things we see as the captain is mark being stuck with the warp core where we watch him tweak out and slowly build the warp core up again which makes that chain reaction that sets off kinda everything that happens in iswm. I’m saying this cuz I like thinking it’s a parallel to actor mark creating his vengeance plan against William and stuff. I see it that way because both engineer marks and actor mark were stuck in isolation for forever, and they couldn’t die, so they were miserable. AND AND AND, both marks FIRMLY BELEIVED their closest friend (engie’s being the captain and mark’s being William) were ACTUALLY EVILLL AND THEY WANTED TO STOP THEM . The creation of the warp core and the poker night both came from this crazed and desperate guy who convinced himself that what he was doing, despite it being bound to hurt people, was the right thing to do.
The only difference between engie and actor tho is that engineer mark felt actually so terrible after he realized that he was in the wrong, while actor mark genuinely CANT see that he even COULD be wrong.
MEANWHILEEE Wilford’s in iswm, it doesn’t matter why, he’s just kinda doing whatever. I like thinking that at one point Wilford would’ve seen engineer mark at his lowest. Wilford, being actually so sad and stupid as a character, would see actor mark in engineer mark. Like he sees a lot of iswm characters like if they were just wkm characters in silly costumes. This is a coping mechanism cuz deep down Wilford KNOWS he’s not talking to his old friends at all.
Just like in WMLW, I think Wilford would want to try to make amends with actor mark , but actor really REALLY hates Wilford, so this could never happen. Until Wilford meets engineer mark yayyyyyyy 😛😛
So then Wilford tries saying sorry for everything and I miss you and whatever to who he thinks is his ex best friend and little brother (I hc them as step brothers) but it’s just engineer mark being like “..ok…🤨”
BUT THEN ALSO LAST THING LAST THING, since Wilford caught engie at such a low point in his life he would feed into Wilford’s delusions because engineer mark (just like actor for a time) is completely alone and has nobody. And since engineer mark is like actor marks space self insert, and mark put a lot of his personality into engineer mark, engie feels a familiar resentment to Wilford but also a familiar longing to hear him out and he doesn’t know why and probably never will and when engineer mark realizes and accepts that he’s in the wrong which breaks the cycle of actor marks self destruction infliction of pain into everybody else, JUST WHEN EVERYTHING IS OVER AND ENGINEER MARK FINALLY GETS A BETTER LIFE OUT OF THAT DAMN SHIP, he might not even remember who told him whatever he had to hear at his lowest, but he’ll remember that whoever they were, they helped him a little. maybe. just a bit..
That’s all I have that’s the end of the rant if anybody has something ANYTHING AT ALL to add pleaseeeeeee do I’m desperate to talk about obscure Markiplier lore and headcanons to anybody
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onestrangechild · 2 days ago
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What your fav Legion says about you, from some nerd on an app
Ultramarines:
I like to think of you guys like Glock owners. Yes, on paper, you guys are the least creative but that means you guys are the most reliable. Guilliman was probably the best primarch to come back to the setting because he was the most stable, and it shows in his marines, who don’t have trauma for the sake of plot. You admire the other legions, but it’s the no nonsense approach they bring to battle that you respect the most.
For honor and glory.
Blood Angels:
You think Vampires are dope as Fuck, and you’re right. Your favorite TV show is probably season 1 of Netflix’s Castlevania (same) or HELLSING, and play the Vampire Counts in the Total War Warhammer games. You go into a seething rage at the merest mention of the WarMaster, and probably wanna rip Erebus’s hearts out and lay them before sanguinius’s feet. You’re probably a bit annoyed with people hiding their gear from you because they think you’re a Blood Raven, but you’ll forgive them in time.
Dark angels:
You think Medieval Knights are dope as Fuck, and you’re right. You dig the chivalry and honor they embody at all times, think dark green and gold looks drippy (it does), and think the Lion is an absolute badass (he is). You also probably grieved for what the honored 1st could’ve been before GW wrote them to all be paranoid douchebags, and can’t wait for the returned Lion to make some changes around his legion. Also, you’re extremely tone deaf, please learn to read the room yall
Salamanders:
OUT OF THE FIRE, AND UNTO THE ANVIL!
Whilst I’m more of a Blood Angel or Iron Hand myself, I have Immense respect for the sons of Vulkan. You think blacksmithing is cool as fuck and probably watch clips of Forged in Fire, or any of the various Blacksmith YouTubers there are. You also think Fire is cool, and think that Astartes should be nicer to Guardsmen in lore.
Imperial Fists:
As an Iron Warrior simp, suck my toes you Imperial Favorite. Now that that’s out of the way, the Imperial Fists is an entire legion of Engineers including you (probably). You think Emotions only make Simple things Complex and thus think as logically as life will let you, fair enough. Youre as tired of the “Imperial Fists are as cold as their home world” about as much as you are of Perturabo’s complaining, miss your genefather, and can feel the happy chemicals SURGING in your brain looking upon a reinforced defense manned by soldiers who’s only concern is holding the line.
Iron Hand:
As an Iron Hand myself, I know the “daddy issues” joke is fruit hanging lower than Ferrus Manus’s head rolling around on the floor, so I won’t. You’re a lot like an Imperial Fist, critically logical and as stalwart as Iron, but unlike imperial fists you’re allowed to have a personality! Unfortunately that Personality is tempered by a healthy dose of Trauma! Your hatred for the Emperor’s Children is just as violent as the Blood Angels and the Sons of Horus, and you pray Fulgrim gets a model so you can personally shoot him in the mouth.
White Scars:
You’re a vehicle guy, and you like going Fast. You also have a great appreciation for cultures like Feudal Japan, Ancient China, Mongolia, etc. idk what else to put here since I’ve never really… looked into their lore… (-(
Raven Guard:
You’re a quiet person, maybe you’re emo/punk, maybe you like dressing up gothic, but you’re definitely the quiet type. Whether that’s social anxiety or just a person of few words doesn’t matter too much, you vibe with the sad raven boys cuz they’re badasses. Unfortunately I cannot take those beaked helmets seriously.
Space Wolves:
I heard an explanation that I agree with once. You guys have such a rich history, a badass primarch that’s probably gonna return (eventually), and a very well developed Viking aesthetic that Is appreciated by those willing to dig into it… but to everyone on the outside you’re just a furry. And it’s kinda tragic…
Anyways, this is all just my opinion which means obviously this is Fact and should be Definitely taken as such
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blackcatxmagic · 2 days ago
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"Ah, so I was close," Leo replied, pleased that he still remembered a little of his Swedish. "My mom liked it when we lived over there, so we stayed in the area for a bit," he explained. They'd lived in Sweden and the surrounding countries for a time, and Leo had liked that part of the world. And he'd always felt safer there; somehow it felt more isolated than most other places he'd lived, and that equaled safety. "I learned most of my Swedish from this guy I knew over there...I don't think you can say we were dating, but we hung out a lot." Leo smiled; he had fond memories of that guy. "I do," Leo answered. "It's...different than a lot of places I've lived. It's a quiet town, but there's something more to it, like a charge or something. I liked the energy of the place side by side with the small town feel." Of course Leo knew that charge was magic, but he didn't know if Astrid did.
India was a trickier subject. "I barely remember it," Leo answered honestly, his voice a little sad; he hated losing that piece of himself. He'd considered returning to his birth name after his mother had died as a way to stay connected to his past, but he'd been Leonidas for so long that that felt more like his name now than Raja ever had. "I miss it sometimes, but I...let's just say there were reasons we left and never went back." Leo wasn't about to get into that; it was a heavy subject. "What about you?" he asked Astrid. "How'd you find yourself here? And do you miss Sweden?"
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"It is more like, typ... Um, 'the little baking cottage'." Astrid shared the proper translation of her bakery's name. When she first decided to rent the apartment above the abandoned bakery, she hadn't actually thought she'd take it over and start her own small business in town. After all, she had no idea how long she was actually going to need to reside in Cardinal Hill. Agreeing to the bakery made her move to the town feel more permanent; and in a way, that thought terrified her. But at the same time, her bakery had become a way to connect with her homeland from afar. She could surround herself with the fresh scents of cinnamon and cardamom whilst whipping up the treats of her childhood. And back in Mora, some of the elders had a special cottage in which they would bake for holidays and festivities—hence the Swede's decision to ultimately name her bakery 'Lilla Bakstugan': 'The Little Baking Cottage'.
"Oh wow. Do you like it here? Do you ever miss India?" Since Leo shared he'd been so young when they'd moved, she wondered how strong the memories of the country were. Since she'd been much older when she'd left Sweden, her memories were constantly at the forefront of her mind.
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skunkes · 4 months ago
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#a doodley#i had to make this blue so tumblr would stop hiding it from the dash#anyway no caption this happened 2 hrs ago#im happy abt my surgery but it and other things this year keep beinging conversations like these up#and i cant handle it at all.#everything my dad tells me just makes me feel worse and not bc its anything bad but bc I Feel Bad#like the conversation then continued to him being like no dont cry im just saying i wpuld have wanted to#quit my job decades ago and set aside money so I wouldnt be struggling as much now but that didnt happen#and i just dont want that to happen to you guys :)#so we have to support u so that your life is what u want it to be#and i cried even more bc what do u mean. thats so sad. ur a person and u were a child and baby once and ur gonna die#and you always almost cry when u talk about your mom who passed away decades ago#and your brothers that passed away#recently and im going to be your age and still sobbing bc i miss my dad. just like i have been prematurely crying about since i was 7#the other day my dad asked my mom if i cried a lot when i was a baby/kid and my mom said no and then my dad#said that when i Did cry it was so severe he thought i would ''drown in my own tears''#bc i could never stop. like. thats still true today. ive been crying on and off since then#i think i mentioned he's just been telling me stories about his life lately and it further fuels this. i get so sad. im sorry your life was#like this. i dont want to die i dont want you to die im sad im sorry im sorry#im scared. im never going to see you again. how horrible. how horrible#i cant enjoy my day today bc every day is a day closer and i get sad
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sysig · 10 months ago
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How much of me is me? (Patreon)
#Doodles#UT#Handplates#Sans#Papyrus#Another one that I cried to while drawing hehe ♪ Hhhhh I love their dynamic so much <3 <3 ;;#Sans' apparent disinterest in hurting Gaster is deeply interesting to me - we see him punch Gaster in Mercyplates even! :0#I can't help but feel that a good portion of it is Papyrus being there with him when Gaster gives them his arm haha#Would he have been as well-behaved if he'd been by himself? I wonder :)#But generally I read it as him having grown up <3 They've both matured so beautifully by that point it's just ah- such a treat to read#Their transition from their childhood to their teens and young adulthood into themselves is just jdlksafhdsfd it's incredibly well written!#I say ''I wonder'' quite a lot lol but that's just speculation - watching them grow into themselves is So Incredibly satisfying <3#It feels so natural to watch them become themselves ♥ It's beautiful ♪♫#And their sibling dynamic is truly unrivaled <3 They support each other! Lift each other up! Where one stumbles the other catches him!#I love them so much ahh#Papyrus' emotional intelligence gets me so bad <3 The sweetest lad#I feel like it would bother Sans that he/they have Gaster's memories and not their own#It makes me especially sad to think about everything he missed of them - if only you hadn't fallen behind on the footage Gaster! >:0#They already have some pretty incredible identity issues just throw being pieces of him in every sense into the mix#They're grown from him and even when they got away and built themselves that still got subplanted with memories that aren't even theirs!#It's a rough spot#Papyrus though ♥ Always knows what to say hehe#Reaffirming that Sans is the most important person to him - that they are to each other - that no matter what they're brothers#And that no matter what - even having Gaster's memories or being without memories at all - that Sans is a good person#That it's not out of self-preservation or trying to do it for Papyrus' sake (even if that is a lot of it haha)#That /Sans/ is the one making that decision of his own volition and his own morals and beliefs#And that he loves and supports him no matter what <3#''I know you can be a good person. You can choose to do the right thing'' and ''I see you being a good person. You're doing the right thing'#Hhhh <3 I love them <3
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