#but it's been 3 and a half days and yeah the really bad stuff has calmed down but it's kind of plateaued now

[damndude69]

.

[thethingything]

I keep randomly remembering that the reason our brain is especially fucked and a bunch of our symptoms are worse right now is because of like, an avoidable external thing that's chemically affected our nervous system instead of either our symptoms flaring up on their own or some specific stressful event triggering it, and for some reason that keeps making us feel especially bad about it.

like our mental health being bad because of stressful stuff going on and our mental illnesses randomly flaring up both suck, but I can handle our brain just doing its own thing and/or reacting to what's going on around us.

but something about it being a medication that someone else prescribed that's changed the way our brain functions is significantly more distressing in a way I can't put into words properly. a lot of the symptoms we've got (apathy, brain fog, alexithymia, memory problems, etc) are very typical depression and dissociation symptoms, but they're like a weird version of them that feels very different to how we normally experience them.

the only way I can describe the difference in feeling is that it feels more "artificial" but I can't even really describe what I mean by that. if normal brain fog is looking out the window on a foggy day, this is looking out of a window that's been covered with those frosted vinyl sheets. you can't see shit either way, but the feeling is very different.

I just desperately want it to go away. I'm finding it hard to be enthusiastic about things I'm normally excited about no matter how bad our depression gets, and our usual coping mechanisms for getting our brain to register positive things aren't really working because it's not the same underlying mechanism.

it feels like any control I did have over our symptoms and anything I could do to help with them has been stripped away and all I can do is wait it out and hope it fixes itself, and the whole "being given a drug that changes how your brain functions and takes away your control over what your brain is doing" is pretty much the exact phobia I was trying to learn to figure out how to deal with before we get dental work done, and for the dental work it'd be like... idk probably an hour at most, whereas now I'm just stuck dealing with experiencing it 24/7 for an undetermined amount of time

[luveline]

I absolutely adore your Spencer x Hotch!sister fics! <3 Can we possibly see the dynamics if it were switched? A Hotch x Spencer's Older Sister fic, pretty please? But no worries if not! Thank you, hope you have a good day!

Was Spencer’s sister always this shy? Hotch can’t remember (and he can’t stop himself from flirting, just a little). fem, 1.4k

“Reid?” Hotch asks. 

Spencer grins at his phone. 

“Reid.” Hotch clears his throat. “Spencer.” 

Spencer puts his phone down on the desk, but he doesn’t seem to have heard Hotch either way. When he realises Hotch is standing by his desk, he perks up. “Hotch, can I ask a favour?” 

Hotch had been about to ask Spencer a favour, but it’s fine. “Sure.” 

“Uh, my sister is supposed to meet me for lunch in half an hour, but she doesn’t really like restaurants and I’m– me. Do you think she could come to the office?” he asks. 

“Sure, Reid. That’s fine, she just needs a visitor card.” 

Hotch can’t remember the last time he saw you. Probably when Reid first started tailing Gideon a few years ago, when you’d made the trip from Vegas to Quantico to see how he was settling. It was a brief introduction, and, while you may possess a few more practical graces than your brother, you were far shyer at the time. You didn’t mind shaking Hotch’s hand, but you struggled to maintain eye contact after. 

You don’t look much like your brother for reasons he’s never cared to ask, as Hotch has never placed much value on how family comes about. He doubts Spencer does either. But you stay in Vegas with your mother, and Spencer sees you three times a year. Birthdays and Christmas. And today, apparently. 

“What’s the occasion?” Hotch asks. 

Spencer smiles again. “I think she’s gonna move here, with me.” 

“Yeah?” Hotch isn’t the prying boss, but he’s a nosy friend. “Everything okay?” 

“Things are great, I mean.” Spencer has the expression of someone deciding what they can and can’t say. Eventually his eyes clear, and Hotch feels satisfied at the realisation that trust has settled tightly between them. “When I decided my mom needed help, Y/N, she hated that, and maybe she resented me, but– I used to worry she hated me, but she doesn’t.” 

“I don’t think she could,” Hotch says easily. 

Spencer nods. Whether he agrees is up for debate, though. “If t’s finally hit her that mom’s sick forever, so she’s feeling out her options.” 

“That must be a hard thing to realise.” 

“Yeah. But things really are great, she’s here now, her stuff is coming tomorrow, and– and maybe she’ll stay for a while.” 

Hotch likes excitement on Reid (when it doesn’t impede their most important work, that is). Truthfully, there’s so much to worry about that Hotch can’t admit to worrying about Reid as much in recent years, and yet he’s relieved to hear that there will be more Reid’s in a hundred mile radius. 

“I’m glad,” Hotch says honestly. “She’s more than welcome here. If she can cope with the photographs in the conference room, the round table is all yours.” 

Hotch retreats to his office and forgets about it for a while, submerged in his own lunch and a certain seven year old’s birthday planning. Jack wants a clown, and a cake with Cars, and he really wants a bounce house. Which is great, but Jack decided he wanted the bounce house last night, and his party is at the end of the week. Hotch makes a bunch of phone calls and finally gets to take a victory lap forty five minutes later. 

He steps out of his office, enticed by the sound of laughter. Spencer laughs like he’s surprised ninety percent of the time, and yours is no different. It’s clear to the listening ear who taught Spencer how to laugh. 

“I love it, I don’t ever want to hear a bad word about it,” you say through peels of it, a breathy, smiley warmth to you as a chair creaks from within the conference room, “and I mean that. Please don’t tell me any facts.” 

“I know so many you’d like to hear!” 

“I don’t doubt it, but please, as a favour? You can tell me about everything else.” 

“Processed cheeses–”

Hotch turns the corner as you put down a sandwich. “Okay, fine. I’m done, are you happy?” you ask, your smile fading into a more polite one as you meet Hotch’s eyes. 

“I didn’t get to say anything.” 

“Some things are better left unsaid,” Hotch says. He doesn’t interrupt, only says it into the quiet, and he doesn’t bother with fanfare. It’s just to alert Spencer of his presence. “Y/N,” Hotch adds, “hello. It’s good to see you.” 

He’s alarmed by your reaction —your eyes widen in your seat, hands hidden beneath your thighs, and your lips part ever so slightly. “Agent Hotchner,” you say softly, almost weakly. 

He’s not that intimidating, is he?

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he says. 

“You’re not interrupting, I was just telling her about the dangers of processed cheese. They’re so irregularly salty that the sodium has to be marked as a cause of heart disease on FDA approved packaging for the service industry,” Spencer says. 

“I’m sure some every now and then won’t hurt,” Hotch says, attempting to offer you a friendly smile. “Spencer tells me you’re staying here for a while, that’s great. How are you liking the weather? It must be a change from Nevada?” 

You look peculiarly hot. “It’s different,” you agree.

Voices ring from the bullpen. 

Spencer stands up. You stand with him, but Spencer says, “Sorry, is that Morgan? He said I have to go and get him when you’re here.” 

“Spencer–”

Spencer’s already leaving. “He threatened me, actually,” he’s saying, more to himself than either of you as he departs. 

You wring your hands. 

Hotch worries his brows are giving him away. You’re acting strangely, but maybe he’s too much. He is a special agent, sometimes the other parents at Jack’s school get antsy around him like they’re worried he can tell they haven’t paid their last parking fine. Maybe you’ve a secret crime you’ve committed. 

He watches you more closely, to your flustering. 

No crime, Hotch thinks, but a secret. Even from Spencer. 

“So how’s your day, Agent Hotchner?” you ask softly. 

It’s actually quite sweet, the way you say it. Your nerves are cute. 

“Busy.” The expected answer. “I’ve been trying to plan a birthday party between paperwork.” 

“For Jack?” 

He smiles with more gentleness. “Yes, for Jack.” 

“He was, um, a newborn, when we last met. Just a couple of weeks old, I think. How old is he turning now?” 

“Seven.” 

You breathe out. “Wow. Seven years.” 

Seven years, and your crush on him remains. That’s what he’d forgotten —when you visited Spencer at the time, even Gideon had mentioned your frazzled, almost dizzy disposition whenever Hotch was around. And Gideon tended to focus narrowly on work at work, so Hotch had known he wasn’t making it up. 

At the time it had been cute, but awkward too, and infeasible. He’d been dedicatedly married and in love with his Haley. And if he weren’t, your age gap might’ve been a little non-functioning, Hotch well into his thirties, and you a fresh twenty-five. 

Today you’re older, and more beautiful. Something about you has shifted, a blossoming into your features, and Hotch actually has the ability to notice it now. 

Your Spencer’s sister, he remembers suddenly. Probably not a woman he should flirt with, some subtle compliment lost on his tongue. 

“You look the same,” you say. 

He laughs. “That’s kind and untrue. I’m getting old.” 

The look you give him then is a shock and a pit, long the long forgotten twist of butterflies. “No,” you say, looking down at your hands, “I wouldn’t say that.” 

“What would you say?” he asks. 

You’re saved —poor girl, he doesn’t know what he was thinking, you can barely hold your head up— as Morgan bounds up the stairs and into the conference room. He gathers you for a hug as though he knows you better than he does, and Hotch loses sight of your face. 

Unknown to him and unseen, Morgan’s greeting is white noise. Why does he talk like that? you think to yourself desperately. He’s asking you all those questions with this weight to them, and he’s so calm! I’m going back to Vegas. 

“How long are you staying?” Morgan asks. 

You laugh weakly and accidentally catch Hotch’s eye, who smiles at you nicely. 

“Oh, I don’t know. A couple of weeks, maybe.” 

Longer, if you have reason. 

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Your Declan fic was SO good. That’s how u discovered your account and I can’t wait for the other Rivals fics you have coming up!!!

If you are still taking requests, I would die for protective Declan O’Hara in any situation. Love your stuff!!

man of the hour.

the sexiest thing about a man is his moustache morals.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - cursing. a little violence and a quick injury description.

word count - 2k

authors note - I truly believe that one of the sexiest things about declan is the fact that he stands up for what he believes in… don’t underestimate the aphrodisiac powers of strong morals, ladies and gents. need him to stand up for me sometime🧎‍♀️‍➡️. anyway this ended up much softer than I meant it to be (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing) <3

masterlist. inbox.

“Can I get you another drink?”

You laugh as the man swings an arm around your shoulders, the heavy weight of it almost taking you down.

“You’ve asked me that four times in the last five minutes, Bas. Thank you, though.”

“Just want to make sure you’re having a good time.”

He’s yelling into your ear, both of you fighting to raise your voices above the noise of Bar Sinister.

“I’m always having a good time with you,” you tease, leaning into his side. “I’m alright, Bas. Promise.”

“You need to let loose for once in your life.”

“I’ll let loose on a day I’m not working.”

“You’re always working.”

“What can I say? He’s hard fucking work.”

You both look over to your boss, who’s currently animatedly telling Declan a story. Rupert’s gesturing so exaggeratedly that people are ducking out of the way, both men laughing and completely oblivious as beer and whiskey splash all over the floor.

Bas presses a kiss into your hair, squeezing you tightly.

“I don’t know what he’d do without you.”

“Well, he never has to find out. We’re stuck with each other,” you chuckle. “Best job I’ve ever had, surprisingly.”

“I won’t tell him you said that,” Bas winks, laughing.

The sound of multiple glasses smashing has the both of you whipping your heads around, trying to find the source of the commotion.

“Shit. I’ll see you later, darling. Come and find me if you need anything, yeah?”

“Course.”

Bas disappears into the bustling crowd, leaving you standing at the bar. It’s absolutely manic, people packed in to the rafters and bumping into each other left, right and centre.

You’re about to make your way over to Rupert when a hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you backwards so hard that you stumble over your own feet. You tug your arm away, finally getting a good look at the person who’s responsible.

“Spencer?”

“Oh, so you do remember me then?”

“… What? We were together for six months, and I don’t have short term memory loss, so… yes.”

“I just meant because you’re hanging around with the elite now. The rumour is that you’re working for Rupert Campbell Black.”

“I am working for Rupert Campbell Black. It’s not a secret, Spencer. I’m his aide and assistant. I’m working for Venturer, too, helping with their public relations. And you are… what? Still pretending to work for your father when you really just spend your days drinking and betting?”

“I do work for my father.”

“Of course you do.”

He steps forward, getting into your personal space.

“What are you doing in here, Spencer? You don’t even live in Rutshire.”

“Thought I’d pop in, see if you were here. Wanted to see if there was any truth to the rumours.”

“Well, you’ve put the rumours to bed now, haven’t you?”

“Not the only thing that’s been put to bed,” he murmurs, just low enough so you only catch half of it.

“Pardon me?”

Your entire body is taut with tension, nerves alert and heart racing. You can only imagine how uncomfortable you must look, praying that someone notices sooner rather than later.

“Which one are you sleeping with, then?”

“Spencer-”

“No, come on. You finished things with me, so there must be another man. Who is it?”

“I’m finished things with you - eight months ago, mind you - because you’re an immature prick who’s so pretentious it makes you deeply unlikeable. There was no other man, I’d just rather be single than be with you.”

His chest puffs out as he starts to go red with rage, anger bubbling up in his veins. You know that you’re not completely unsafe here in this room full of people, but that doesn’t calm your anxiety in the slightest.

“Which one is it, hmm?” his voice is raising, getting louder with every passing minute. “Which one looks like your type?”

He points at Seb first, quirking an eyebrow.

“Him?”

When you don’t respond, he moves on to pointing at Patrick.

“Him?”

You shake your head almost imperceptibly, wishing that the ground would swallow you up.

“Oh my god… it’s him, isn’t it?”

His eyes have landed on Rupert, who’s still stood across the room. Your boss is looking at you, now, quickly assessing the situation you’re in.

“You’re fucking Rupert Campbell Black?!”

The entire crowd of people goes silent as he practically screams it, everyone’s heads turning to look at you.

“She’s… what?” Rupert, Declan and Bas all ask at the exact same time, hilariously in sync.

“Fucked your way up to the top, did you? Classy as always.”

Spencer goes to continue his sentence, but hits the floor suddenly with a heavy thud. You look up to see Declan shaking off his hand, chest heaving with adrenaline. Your ex boyfriend has a busted lip, blood dripping down his chin and onto his awfully unflattering shirt.

“It’s called hard work, you arrogant little prick. Not that you’d know.”

Declan’s Irish accent sounds stronger than usual, coloured with fury and aggression. Bas has dragged Spencer to his feet, both him and Rupert holding him upright.

“If I ever catch you anywhere near here again, I’ll do more than just split your fucking lip. You understand?”

Spencer nods, clearly still dizzy from the impact of the punch. He’s dragged outside before anyone can say anything else, the crowd returning back to their drinks as if nothing ever happened.

“Come on, sweetheart.”

Declan links his fingers with yours before you can register what’s happening, pulling you through the bar and out of the back door. You take a seat on the brick wall, legs dangling over the edge as you kick your feet.

“You okay?” he asks as he sits down next to you, just close enough that you can feel his body heat.

“I’m fine.”

“Sure?”

“I’m sure.”

You don’t really know how to feel, confused by the whole ordeal.

“He seems like a nice boy.”

You laugh suddenly at the bad joke, shaking your head as Declan laughs with you. It’s not a sound you hear from him all that often.

“Sorry you had to punch him.”

“I didn’t have to. Kinda wanted to, though.”

“Me too.”

He bumps his shoulder into yours, looking at you carefully.

“I didn’t just hit him for a laugh, you know. I was worried he was going to hurt ya.”

“I was too,” you whisper, vulnerability bleeding into your tone.

“I’d never of let that happen. I promise, sweetheart.”

His hand finds yours again, fingers gently sliding in between yours. He rests your intertwined hands on his thigh, thumb rubbing patterns on your skin.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

You sit in silence for a long moment, enjoying the way the warmth of his palm seeps slowly into yours.

“I didn’t think anyone had even noticed Spencer was there.”

“I saw as soon as he walked in, because I knew I didn’t recognise him. I tried to give you some space, thought maybe you were friends or something. Didn’t want to intervene and embarrass ya.”

“Ex boyfriend, if you haven’t already guessed. We were only together about six months all in all, about eight months ago. Don’t know what I was thinking, really. He’s fucking awful.”

“You can say that again,” he chuckles, hand squeezing yours. “Not sure what you ever saw in him.”

“Neither am I, anymore. I don’t know, maybe I just liked having someone really like me, as sad as that sounds. Dating is fun and exciting and… well, it’s supposed to be. God knows it isn’t, for me.”

Declan slides his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side to keep the evening chill at bay. You can hear the ruckus from inside, everyone in the bar carrying on as usual.

“I think you just keep choosing the wrong men, darlin’. Don’t swear off dating just because of a few bad apples.”

“I mean, I haven’t dated anyone since Spencer, and that finished eight months ago. I’d rather stay single than date any more of these posh boys who’ve never worked a day in their lives.”

He laughs, and the vibrations of it rumble through the both of you, settling into your bones. All you can think about is how warm he is and how good he smells and how if you leaned in an inch to your left, you could kiss him right on the cheek.

“What if it’s me?” you can’t help but ask quietly. “What if I’m the reason I can’t find someone?”

“What?”

“I mean, I work for Rupert - which I love - but my job is my life now. He’s a handful as it is, and now with all the Venturer stuff… all I do is work. And I know I’m not pretty like Taggie or powerful and bossy like Cameron but-”

“You’re beautiful.”

Declan stops you in your tracks, his interruption derailing your train of thought completely.

“I- what?”

“Sweetheart, the only reason I noticed that prat Spencer earlier was because I was already looking at you.”

“You were?”

“I always am.”

“… Why?”

“I don’t know, exactly. It’s like this… gravitational pull. You light up a room.”

“That’s a bit dramatic,” you chuckle nervously.

“I wish it was.”

You don’t know what to say, so you lean further into his side, resting your head on his broad shoulder and breathing him in.

“I would have said something sooner,” he murmurs, “but Rupert would fucking kill me.”

“He’s not my keeper, Declan.”

“No, but he’s your boss. And for all intents and purposes, your big brother.”

He rests his head atop of yours, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“How’s your hand?”

“Perfectly fine,” he laughs, squeezing your thigh. “I’ll make a full recovery.”

“Thank God for that.”

Declan turns his body so he can look at you properly, big hands coming up to cradle your face. Neither of you say anything, waiting with tense anticipation for the other person to move first.

You surprise yourself by leaning in and planting a kiss on his lips, chaste and testing the waters. You begin to overthink everything the minute you pull back, worried that you’ve misread his kindness. As if he can read your mind, he tangles a hand into your hair and tugs you back into him, kissing you with a passion you’ve never experienced before.

His tongue slips into your mouth cheekily as you let him take the lead, happy to surrender the control to him. You’ve dreamt about this, late nights in bed spent wondering if the real thing would live up to your imagination. It definitely does.

Eventually, you both pull away, panting and flushed. You can no longer feel the chill in the air, the warmth of Declan keeping the cold at bay.

“Don’t tell Rupert,” he whispers, dirty smirk written across his face.

You can’t help but laugh, giddy off of the weight of the moment. Before tonight, you’d begun to accept that you might have been slightly delusional when it came to Declan - reading into his fingers brushing yours when you handed him something, him winking at you across the room, his palm pressing into your back as he walked past. Now you know - it wasn’t delusion. They were signals.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Secret’s safe with me.”

He pecks your lips again quickly before standing up, outstretching his hands for you to grab so he can pull you with him.

“You wanna go back inside?”

“No, think I’m done for the night.”

“Will you let me walk you home?”

You look at him smiling down at you all soft and sweet, and realise instantly that you’re in trouble. This isn’t something either of you are going to be able to just brush past. This’ll be haunting both of your memories every single day until it happens again.

“I’d like that.”

“Come on then, sweetheart. Lead the way.”

Declan links his fingers with yours, happy to let you steer him in the right direction. Neither of you say much. You don’t need to.

The way his palm fits perfectly against yours tells you both everything you need to know.

@lostinthefandoms11 @prettycoolgirl @buzzcutlip

don’t make me give the reblogs are invaluable to your writers speech again… i’ve given it one too many times… but you know the deal… reblog if you enjoyed and I shall write more for you <3

[dantes-jacket]

I’ve only wanted you

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: request #3! You confess to Dante and he rejects you. You two get into an argument, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, love confessions

Dante Sparda. The infamous half demon half human demon hunter. Everyone in town knows his name and his business, Devil May Cry. But you know him as a goofy guy that loves pizza and strawberry sundaes.

He is also your closet friend and your biggest crush. But you’ve taken that secret to the grave. Or well you’re trying. Every time you two hang out it comes closer and closer to being blurted out.

Would it be a bad thing if it got known? You don’t know because you can’t even begin to think what he would say or do. He’d probably think you were just joking and brush it off like he does to the waitress at the cafe. Soon you’ll probably be in her boat at this rate.

You can’t help it though, Dante is so sweet and caring. He’s also super protective about you. He acts differently around you than he does with any other girl. He’s a lot more touchy and flirty with you compared to when he’s with Lady or Trish. He also doesn’t shy away from acting that way when they are around. It’s like he wants to make something known. Maybe you do have a chance.

You’re laying in your bed looking up at the ceiling while all these thoughts run through your head. It just makes your heart hurt more and more. Keeping this secret is really hurting you. Tonight you should tell him, even if it ruins everything. The thought of losing him hurts but the pain you’re feeling now also hurts a lot. You’d rather rip the band aid off instead of hurting yourself slowly.

You get out of bed with groan and get ready to head over to Dante’s. He called you earlier asking if you wanna hang out, of course you didn’t decline because you just want to be near him.

The walk to Devil May Cry is about fifteen minutes. It’s nice because the cool breeze is helping calm yourself down. Today is the day you’re going to confess. You know it could end horribly but that isn’t going to stop you now.

When you arrive you knock and the door and it swings open revealing Dante. “Thought you were the pizza man.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh I’m sorry, I can leave if you want.” You jokingly say while turning around to “walk away”.

He laughs at your joke and grabs your hand, “Not so fast, you’re mine tonight.”

You try to control yourself from blushing so he doesn’t see his comment makes you flustered. It does send your heart racing though. You let him drag you inside and he announces the plan for tonight, “Thought we could eat some pizza and catch up.”

“Sounds like fun.” You nod along with the idea. Wonder what kind of games he has in mind.

You set your purse down and kick off your shoes and head into the kitchen. You grab two beers and bring them back to the living room. You immediately fall onto the couch letting out a sigh of relief. Dante’s couch might be worn and old but it’s comforting and warm at the same time.

Dante comes to join you but it’s stopped in his tracks when he hears a knock at the door again. He grabs the pizza and walks back over to you. “Did you even pay for that?”

“Nah I had them put it on my tab.”

“Dante you’re probably going to go even more in debt if you don’t start paying for this stuff.”

“Hey it’s fineeee. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.” He opens the pizza box and instantly digs in.

You try to not blush at this comment too. He definitely didn’t mean anything by it and was just playing with you. You change the subject and ask, “How have you been?”

He swallows a massive bite then answers, “You know same old same old. Killing demons while looking like a total sexy badass.”

You slap a hand over your face and drag it down of course he had to add the last part. “Yeah, yeah. But I meant how you actually are like as Dante.”

“Oh well that’s not fun. When I’m not hunting and killing demons I do nothing but wait to hunt and kill demons. I mean I’ve had some good pizza and strawberry sundaes recently.”

You roll your eyes, this man is really dense sometimes. “We need to get you a hobby that isn’t hunting and killing demons.”

He looks at you like you were the one that killed him family in front of him, “How dare you say that!”

Great now he’s pouting. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant find something to do in your free time while you wait. You like to dance but you’ve barely done that recently. We could get you some books to read-“

“BLEH, books? Are you trying to kill me with boredom? I’d rather sit in complete silence than read a book.”

You roll your eyes at the man again, “Sometimes I really think you’re a child.”

“Hey-“

“But then I remember you are probably the furthest thing from one.” You look over to him and he’s looking at you. You have his full attention and don’t seem like you’re going to lose it any time soon.

“You’re very strong Dante, the strongest person I know. You care so much about everyone around you and carry so many burdens just so you can help them. You’d take away all the pain from everyone and carry it yourself if you could. You hold the weight of the world on your shoulders but you never complain about it. You only face the problems head on and without any hesitation.”

You let out a shaky breath and continue, “I guess that’s why I fell for you. Everything about you is so admirable that it’s hard not to fall for you. I love you Dante and have for a while.”

You hear his breath hitch and you don’t dare to look at him. You close your eyes and pray that it doesn’t end like the bad scenarios you’ve made up in your head.

“Why did you have to ruin this?”

Your eyes fly open and you snap your neck to look at him. He looks absolutely pissed. “Tell me why did you have to fucking say that?”

Now you’re confused, “What- I don’t get what you mean.”

“WHY DID YOU HAVE TO TELL ME YOU LOVE ME!?” He’s standing up now and yelling. He’s never once raised his voice at you. This is a different side of him and you don’t like it one bit.

You stand up and try to stand toe to toe with him even though you know it’s probably useless. “Because keeping it a secret was hurting me! I had to tell you so it wouldn’t hurt anymore.”

“I don’t fucking care! We are friends and now you had to try and cross that line.”

Now you’re mad, “Don’t act like you don’t act differently around me! You act completely different with me compared to Trish and Lady.” You argued back.

“Well I don’t see you any different from those two! You mean the exact same to me as they do, nothing more nothing less. You’re basically a work friend. I’m not interested in you that way at all.”

Work friend? That’s it? After everything you two have gone through together in the past years, he doesn’t see you as someone close to him. You freeze and bite your lip at his comment. It’s like he’s tearing out your heart and handing it right back to you.

“I’m not even a demon hunter Dante!” You yell back. You lower your head so he wouldn’t see the tears that are starting to run down your cheeks. You lower your voice, “I was wrong, you’re not a good person. You’re just a jerk.” You lift your head to look at him and you see him open his mouth just to quickly shut it.

“I guess I made another mistake in loving you. I thought you’d be at least nicer.” You walk past him and slip on your shoes. You grab your purse and open the door.

Dante can’t move. He can’t comprehend any of this. He doesn’t know how it got so bad. But he doesn’t want you to leave. Not like this. Not when he lied to you.

“Hey come on wait-“ he steps closer to you reaching his hand out to grab your hand again.

You move your hand out of his reach, “Don’t touch me.”

“Wait I-“

You look at him solemnly, “This is goodbye Dante.” You then walk out and close the door behind you. Once you’re a couple feet away you sob harder and run back to your apartment.

This went worse than you ever could have imagined. You knew there was a possibility of him rejecting you but you never knew it would end like this. You two are definitely on opposite side of a cliff, with the biggest ravine between you.

Dante begs for you to open the door again and come back. He stands and watches hopelessly. He knows you’re not going to and he’s stupid for thinking that it’s even possible.

Why did he yell at you? Why in the actual fuck would he yell at his favorite person in the whole world? Why would he yell at the woman he loves?

Dante knows why he was so quick to say no though. Everyone he’s ever loved has died or been in some kind of pain because of him. He can’t put you through that and he can’t put himself through losing someone else he loves. You told him he was super strong but he feels so weak now. He feels weak because he broke everything between you two.

His necklace starts to feel oddly heavy around his neck, great his mom is mad at him too. He grabs the necklace and looks up, “I am going to fix this mom. I’m not going to let her get away.” He promises.

While you’re running back to your apartment you run into someone. You mentally curse yourself because now you’re going to be in an awkward situation. Before you can apologize you hear two people call out your name.

You recognized those voice. Shit you gotta run. You try to get around them and mumble a sorry but your hand is suddenly grabbed.

“Why are you running from us?” Trish asked.

You turn to look at them and they freeze at your tear stained face. You hide your face and try to stop the tears. But your broken heart won’t let you. Lady looks at Trish and they silently agree to get you back to your apartment.

They walk you back while you silently cry. Lady takes your purse and grabs your keys from it to unlock your door. Once you’re inside they guide you to the couch.

You finally calm down enough to where you’re not completely sobbing. But still have some stray tears rolling down your face.

Lady now speaks up, “Okay what in the hell happened?” Trish smacks her arm. “Ow what was that for?”

Trish only glares at her, “Let her go on her own time.”

“It’s fine.” You cut the arguing duo off. You tell them what happened and you have to hold them down.

“Oh I’m going to fucking kill him. Shoot him right between the eyes,” Lady growls.

“I’m right behind you girl. Let’s go.”

“Wait stop! Just leave it. It’s already so messy between us and I don’t want the rift to grow even bigger.”

Lady rolls her eyes and questions, “How can you defend him after this? He was a total douche to you.”

“I’m not defending him. I don’t even know if I could do that. What he said hurt me more than anything ever has. But I don’t want to completely burn our bridges. He’s good at what he does and that’s helped me many times.”

Trish sighs knowing you making a good argument. But she isn’t just going to sit around and let you be upset.

“How about this, tomorrow we all go out! I’ll invite some drinking friends and we can relax together. We gotta get your mind off of this.”

“Sounds good to me,” you respond. It actually sounds awful but you know they are going to drag you out no matter what you say. So it’s better to agree than disagree and make another argument happen.

•

A couple weeks have gone by since your big argument with Dante. You two have spoken a word to each other and haven’t seen each other since. You went out with Lady and Trish the next night and it was hell.

Most of the people Trish invited were guys so they were trying to hit on you and it made you feel uneasy. One guy was really persistent though.

His name was Jackson. He was kinda nice and okay to look at. He wasn’t funny, he didn’t like to dance, he wasn’t cocky, he wasn’t Dante. You shook your head at the thought. Dante is your standard now and you can’t even change it.

The going out for drink because quite common within the past few weeks which means you see Jackson more and more. Last night he asked you out on a date. The thought of that made you sick. You didn’t want to go out on a date with him. You’re still thinking about Dante.

You wonder how he’s doing. He’s been radio silent with Trish and Lady too. Maybe he knew they’d be on your side so he just kept to himself for now. You hope he’s okay. You hope he’s eating enough and getting enough sleep. You hope he’s taking care of himself during missions and resting properly after them.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you look to see Jackson, “So is that a yes?”

Lady buts in and says yes for you. You give her a glare and she just shrugs it off. So much for no date.

Now you’re out shopping with Lady and Trish to get an outfit for the date tonight. They claimed you needed “a fresh new look for a fresh new start.” You hated every second of this. They kept handing you dress after dress to try on.

You ended up falling in love with one dress though. Of course it was red and of course it made you think of Dante. You tell them you want this dress and Trish eagerly buys it for you.

You three are walking out of the store that’s when you see him. The man you secretly have been yearning to see again. You can’t help yourself, you still love him. Even after what he said to you.

As if he senses eyes on him Dante turns and sees you three. He then quickly walks over to the group. Lady and Trish sees him approaching and goes to cover you. All he manages to get out is, “Hey.”

“Hello Dante.” Trish responds. The brave soul that’s going to go toe to toe with him.

“What are the three of you doing here?” He tries to look around the barrier they made to see you but they keep you blocked.

“We’re shopping for her date tonight. Now if you excuse us, we gotta go get her ready.”

“Date?” Dante stammers out not believing what Trish just said. She just nods and pushes you away.

Lady stays back and Dante looks at her, “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No we aren’t. There’s some men out there that actually want her unlike you.”

“I WANT HER MORE THAN ANYTHING!” He snaps back.

“Then why yell at her like you did? Why say she means nothing to you?”

“Because I’m fucking afraid of losing her. The thought of it hurts so bad. I can take shots like nothing but she can’t. What if something happens to her because of me? I can’t live with that.”

“So you’d rather live without her?”

“No I want her right by my side.”

“You have to pick. You can’t say you want her then push her away. You also can expect to push her away and expect to have her.”

Lady starts to walk aways and looks over her shoulder, “She still talks and thinks about you all the time. She’s leaving at six for her date. If you want to fix this, stop her and apologize.” She then goes to catch up with you and Trish.

Dante stands there watching hopelessly again hoping you’d come back to him. But after Lady’s last comment there’s new fire that burns within him. He’s determined to get you back.

These past few weeks has been absolute hell for him. All he’s wanted to do is reach out to you. He can’t deal without your presence anymore. He misses how your laugh would fill up the quietness of Devil May Cry. He misses how the pillow on the couch you always slept on doesn’t smell like you anymore. He missing calling you and having you come over just to goof around with him.

He misses your beautiful self. He’s always thought you were eye catching. Your presence made him calm and happy. He needs you in his life again. He can’t go a minute without you anymore. Tonight he’s getting you back. He’s sure of it.

You finished getting ready and all you have to do is slip on your heels. You’re happy Lady and Trish left even though it kind of confused you. Lady whispered something in her ear and the two of them suddenly announced they are leaving. But it is peaceful because now you just get to think freely.

You slip on a pair of black heel and look at yourself in the mirror. You looked great, the red dress and heels really complement one another. You wonder what Dante would think of this dress. You shake your head trying to get the thought out. You finally got to see him today even though you didn’t get to talk to him. He looked exhausted, he must have just came from a mission.

You smack your hands against your cheeks to focus yourself. You’re going on a date with someone else tonight. You can at least be decent and not think about another man.

You hear a knock at your door and look at the clock. It’s 5:30 and you agreed to meet at the restaurant. So who on earth could be knocking?

You walk to the door and open it to be greeted with the man that hasn’t left your thoughts. You two stare at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence.

Dante swallows thickly and then murmurs, “Don’t go on the date.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“No Dante I don’t.”

“I can’t really say…”

You were happy to see him now you’re mad. You’ve had enough of this. He’s telling you not to go on the date and won’t tell you why. What is his goal here?

“Okay bye then.” You start to shut the door but he scrambles and stops you.

“Wait please don’t shut the door again. I have a feeling if it shuts again we are done.”

“What’s your goal here Dante? Are you trying to make me miserable?”

He pushes the door open so you two have no barrier between you two anymore. “Hell no. That’s honestly the last thing I want.”

“Funny, didn’t seem like you cared about that last time.”

“I know, I was a dick and shouldn’t have yelled at you. I regret it with every fiber of my being. Human and demonic side.”

“Dante, that doesn’t change what happened. You said I didn’t mean anything to you.”

“I didn’t mean it I promise. I’m so sorry for how I treated you. I wish I could take it all back because I regret it all. I want to punch myself for yelling at you but most of all I hate myself for lying to you.”

You gulp at his words. You think you know where this is going and you don’t know if he’s just going to say it or if he means it. “Dante, what do you mean?”

He steps forward and raises his hands to your cheeks. Seeing that you’re not stopping him, he rests them on your cheeks. He swipes his thumbs back and forth against trying to soothe you.

“I love you. I’ve always had.”

You bite your lip and close your eyes. You are taken back to when he said he saw you as nothing more than a work friend. That you meant nothing more to him. You hear that replaying in your head over and over again.

“You said I was nothing more to you than a work friend.”

You feel him flinch and him whisper, “I know.”

“You yelled at me and said I ruined everything.”

“I know.”

“You said you weren’t interested in me.”

“I know.”

“But Dante the funny thing is even after all that, I don’t hate you. I still am in love with you.”

He sighs and hangs his in relief. “Fuck I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll make it all up to you. I’ll take care of you and protect you. I’ll treasure your love till the day I die. Please give me the chance to make it right.”

“I trust you Dante but you only get one chance. Don’t waste it.”

“I’m not going to fucking waste a second more.”

He dips down to connects your lips. It’s as if a switch has gone off and made everything right again. This kiss feels so perfect and warm. It’s passionate and loving, like Dante is trying to confess even more than he has.

You two break apart and you look to see your lipstick smudged on his lips. You laugh at the look. You raised your hand to his lips and wipe off the lipstick.

“Heyyyy don’t do that I wanna walk around with that.”

“You’re fine. But now I gotta cancel the date. Great Trish is going to be mad the dress didn’t get its use.”

You start to walk away but Dante pulls you back into his embrace. Your back is against his chest and he leans down and whispers into your ear, “Nah you’re going to be a no show baby, no more talking to that guy. But I’m going to take you out because I’m not wasting this sight. You look so fucking hot in red.”

@fashionloverr846

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @jdebbiel

Deb JJ Lee is a non-binary Korean artist based in Brooklyn, NY. They have appeared in the New Yorker, New York Times, NPR, Google, Radiolab, and more. Their award-winning graphic memoir, IN LIMBO, about mental illness and difficult relationships with trauma, released in March 2023 from First Second.

Below is our interview with Deb!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

That implies I am over my art block, but I’m still in it! I think about Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot and how she had to stop doing a thing, and that you can’t really force it, and you have to let it come back to you. It’s a pretty humbling moment, realizing there is more to life than just drawing. I’ve been trying to consume other content like reading or watching movies—anything that is not drawing-related—and to trust that it will come back to me. I think not being afraid to do the small pieces before committing to the big pieces is helpful. Because big pieces are what I am known for, I dig myself into a deeper hole, thinking that each piece has to be bigger than the last one. So yeah! Relaxing and doing the small things before overcommitting to a big piece is the best way to go about it for me.

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

I feel like these are all artists that I have second-degree connections with! Jillian Tamaki, Victo Ngai, and Tillie Walden would be my picks!

What are your file name conventions?

…What file name conventions? I mean, I don’t have specific file name conventions, but I actually have a public Google Drive archive! But I usually put “djjl_whatever-the-title-is_final,” and I would always know it’s the final and legit version.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I did an illustration for the whiskey brand Johnnie Walker. It’s so wild because I only had four days to finish it, and it usually takes me a week and a half if I rush. And honestly, it’s probably one of my best pieces from this year, which is funny. It was for the Mid-Autumn festival, so I made it as Korean as possible.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

I only use my iPad to draw everything now, and if I want to pretend that I have a steady workstation, I’ll use my Cintiq. I still am not as comfortable on the Cintiq as I am on Procreate, but it’s still pretty solid and nice. That’s the good part about technology. The bad part about technology is how AI art has been messing things up for me. I’m currently in a lawsuit about AI art as a class rep. Some of my stuff got turned into AI art late last year, so I have to give a deposition at some point. 

What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?

Honestly, they’re all good! I feel like Lightbox Expo has been really nice because it’s truly been a convention for artists. I feel like that’s where most of my audience is, and they’re all around because their purpose is to be better at art. That’s where a lot of original artists do well because they’re getting art they’re inspired by, not so much fanart. I like the Lightbox Expo because it encompasses the pure love of art very well. 

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Use a Y axis, not just your X axis! Take advantage of it! Branding is also something to think about. It is definitely something I’m getting better at. Having an assistant is also very important. I’ve also heard that 8.5x11 to 12x18 inches is usually a good size for prints, but I also provide postcard-sized prints because sometimes people don’t want to commit to a larger size. 

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

You know this is so funny. I’ve been following @alicexz for over a decade on Tumblr and other platforms. I’ve followed her work since high school, and we’ve only recently become peers. I found her, and we met for the first time in real life, and she recognized me. And then I found all my drawings from when I was in my Alice phase, back in high school, and I was like, “Yo, this is when I was trying to be you so badly!” and she was cracking up and was like “Wow, this is so good!” It was such a sweet moment. I wanted to take a picture of her holding my drawing up. It’s really nice because now we’re peers.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Deb! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jdebbiel.

[medullamindset]

STEB HEADCANONS :>

Uhhhm YEAH a few headcanons ive collected since act 3 came out in november 😸 enjoy Stebnation, or dont idk

This is very short and boring but its easier to write him in an actual scenario so TRUST IN ME MY UPCOMING STUFF WILL BE BETTER 😿

Content warnings: Established relationship w Reader, miiiild mention of knifeplay but its easily looked past. My opinion on his race.

NSFW marked this pink!

• He cannot be any older than 30. I'd bet hes like 23-27. Idk how old u have to be to be a field medic/enforcer??

• Hes around 6'4.. Tall guy. ♥︎‿♥︎

• His frill thingies seem to lie flat to his face with "down" emotions, such as shame/guilt and sadness. But they point straight out with more intense emotions, like suspense, anger, exitement, worry. I love the way they flutter sometimes, as a subtle reaction. Like when they saw the Zaunites walking over the bridge to aid in the war, his frills were like "oh, wow.."

But also how they shot straight out with suspense when Ambessa wanted Caitlyn to b commander and everyone was banging their chests and stuff.

• I'd like to imagine his frills flutter a few times in a row when he orgasms, like the shockwaves of pleasure, but also post-orgasm. Maybe they go hand in hand with his nervous system kinda?

• His tip is the same color as his eyelids. His nails seem to be beige too.

• He CAN talk he just chooses not to if he feels he doesnt need to. Short sentences if he has to, small nods and shakes of his head, LOOKS. his face is VERY expressive, but thats more of a fact than a hc. body language is a key communication of his.

• Hes def always been the quiet type, ever since he was six he hasn't been big on speaking.

But sometimes you cheat the system.. Having your back turned to him when you ask him a question just so you can hear his voice, even just to get a little "mhm" from him <3

• On the rare occasion that he does speak his voice is kinda hoarse and gravelly from lack of use UGHHHH *squirts everywhere*

• hes a bit of a "bland" person, hes not boring.. Just a very simple man. He reads practically anything, carries your bags when you're out shopping, he literally just goes wherever you wanna go. He hangs over your shoulders when you do ur makeup, cooks breakfast most mornings, cleans when he feels its needed cuz he doesn't like messes, he'll have music on in the background tho and it's usually one of your vinyls that's playing, makes him feel closer to you <3

Simple things man. deeply emotional and caring too. Hes so kind and eager to help ugh MY SHAYLAA.

• hes a bit socially awkward, he doesnt have social anxiety, hes just kinda stiff and quiet around people.

• what the fuck does he do all day, really?

• I feel like he'd like dancing with his lover but he thinks hes bad at it so hes a bit awkward <333 put his hands around ur waist for him tho and he'd turn into even more speechless mush, everytime.

• Has a gummy smile thats really evident when he laughs so he tries not too, might let a grin slip in private tho c: and close mouthed chuckling/snickers.

• Loves being carressed, hold his face in your hands and trace his cheekbones with ur thumbs? FOLDS. Running your fingers up and down the fins at the back of his head when his face is in your neck? PUTTY.

• Speaking of fins, they continue down to to his lower back, shorter at the bottom but longest between his shoulderblades. He also has darker spots(scales?) Like the other fishfolk in Arcane on his outer arms and thighs. See this post of mine for a ref :)

• he drinks alot of water, like ALOT. his throat get dry easily cuz hes.. Yk, fish.. Atleast half-fish. He'll remind his partner to do the same, no matter your race cuz its good for u, he'll nudge u with a glass in hand and a small tug at his lips, or simply just leave it beside u as a silent reminder.

• Loves holding hands. like, he just LOVES it. He'll act nonchalant abt it but on the inside his heart is just blossoming 💗

Like imagine you're at a café or a bar or a diner WHATEVER and ur just sitting infront of him yapping abt ur day or smth ur planning while holding his hand over the table, and he'll just be buzzing with love, rubbing your soft skin with his thumb, feeling lucky his blush doesnt show (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

• ABSOLUTELY ADORES kisses. He just finds them so sweet and intimate (cuz they are. But i mean like, he doesn't ever NOT think about it after kissing you, hes always locked on target y'know, he only sees you. He only feels you when kissing your lips, he'll kiss u like its the end of the world.. even if hes just getting up to go to the bathroom or something.)

• he just loves you so much, please kiss him, everywhere. Theres not a single spot of him you could kiss that wouldn't make him shiver (the good way).

• Steb is not much for hardcore kinks in bed. He doesnt "fuck", he makes love. In his eyes there truly isnt any purer form of intimacy than sharing something like that, giving away a piece of yourself to this person, your souls spiritually intertwined and yadiyadayada (it's true tho)

• He will go harder if you ask him to, hes not afraid to make you scream with pleasure. Also, bite him and hes a goner. Omg if hes like treating u so nicely in the sack you gotta bite down on something to contain yourself, pls let it be his shoulder, please leave pretty imprints of you canines all over his neck and chest. And hickeys too HNNGHH

Makes him groan so deliciously. Hips snapping into yours just a liiiittle more harshly than intended.

He'll bite you back carnally if you'll let him, Steb gets so lost in it sometimes..

• Hes open to experimentation tho, like if theres something you reallyreallyreally wanna try he'll be like 'euuughgghggggrhggh okay yk what fine', as long as he doesn't have to hurt you, not too much anyway. The idea of inflicting pain-pain on the person he loves makes him queasy.

• But if hes really fucking horny at some point, watching you take the front seat and play around w his gills, scratch at his chest, put a hand around his neck or.. Idk drag a knife gently across his skin while topping he'll literally whine, digging his dull nails into your sides, holding on for dear life.

• He loves being called petnames. Serious and silly ones. His favorites have gotta be Love, Darling, Baby and pretty boy.. All the sappy stuff. One time you called him 'Gorgeous' and his frills shot straight out for a solid three seconds.. If he already didn't speak, he'd be speechless then. CUZ HES A GORGEOUS MAN.

Or that one time you called him 'fishface' and he just slumped in defeat when he heard you giggle, knowing that one was gonna stick around.

You'll enter the kitchen where hes making something to eat and just go "Hey, Fishface! So--!" Continuing to yap and he just rolls his eyes with a lopsided, lovesick grin u cant see from behind him. From anybody else it'd piss him off, but it's you, So he lets it slide.

• he has the warmest and weirdly softest fuckin hands ever. They're never clammy or sticky, just nice and toasty, perfect.

• is the type to grab your hands in the winter and rub them if theyre cold, trying to transfer his warmth over, even if hes also freezing. breathing hotly onto them.

• speaking of winter he probably HATES IT. He gets SO cold SO easy, hes shaking in his boots fr. A frozen fishstick fr. Like jesus. But the palms of his hands stay warm for some reason..

adding to that hes def a sweater fiend.. He LOVES knitted sweaters and hoodies and TURTLENECKS. HE'D LOOK SO GOOD IN A TURTLENECK. TELL ME IM WRONG. LIKE A BIG, FAT, KNITTED ONE THAT GOES UP TO HIS JAW. Even better if you knit/crocheted them for him <33

• I headcanon that his dad is a human and his mom is a fish person cuz he has hair and rounded teeth which other fishfolk we see don't. We don't see any other fishfolk from piltover tho.. So maybe hes just slapped on a wig, peel-off eyebrows and filed his teeth down (which is INSANELY painful btw) to look "socially acceptable". I HEAVILY doubt that, when i rascism like that ever shown in Arcane, Piltover specifically? 🤔 Im not even gonna get into that whole Vastaya thing cuz i dont know enough.. I heard they can decide how many animal features they show as they please and that they're like deeply connected to magic and live really long.. But that isn't mentioned or even nodded to in Arcane so im just gonna pretend that doesnt exist lol sorry

• but ya he adopted alot of his moms fishy features but also human-ish hair and teeth from his dad.

•speaking of his parents, i do feel like Steb was raised kinda strictly? Idk i just feel like his parents would be very uptight and that stuck with him all the way into adulthood, he stands super upright and is well proper while on the job because thats just what hes been taught.

hes alot more relaxed at home tho, where he knows he doesn't have to be or look presentable for anyone, especially not you. he knows you'll love him even while standing by the fridge in pj's, with a fist full of grated cheese ready to be devoured at circa 2 AM.

• He was raised in a small village on the outskirts, right beside the ocean. Hence he still adores it and loves to go swimming with you, reminds him of his childhood yk c:

• He kinda gives only child vibes to me? Idk the thought of him with an older sibling is kinda cute tho,, i imagine they'd be like complete opposites. They hardly see eachother,, I don't feel like his family lives in Piltover. He had a "Mom, Dad.. I'm 18 now..! I'm moving to the big city. And there is nothing you can do to stop me." Moment, exept in a less verbal way maybe, moving to the city of progress and begining medical and tactical training, to help people. On both sides.

• Hes really good at origami, sometimes when hes at work and droning at his desk with nothing better to do he'll just grab a random paper and fold a little swan together. You've found multiple critters like that scattered around the house, some with faces drawn on, just two inky dots and a derpy smile like this : )

Once he made one of your favorite animal and left it on your nightstand before heading to work, you picked it up and examined it, smile growing even wider when you found the hidden lovenote that was written on it <3

It's now glued neatly into your shared scrapbook/journal along with many more, surrounded by dried flowers and red hearts <33

Uhhhhhhhhhhhrghhhhhhhhhh yeah ❗️🚮 i just debated wether or not this is even worth posting for like twenty minutes.

Pls dont bash me for my opinions now *gulp*

Also heres a lil reminder that im taking requests 💗💗 i love writing i just never have good or original ideas :'o(

[ysrjune]

Could u please do a dallas x childhood bsf/first gf where she moves to tulsa, totally clueless to the fact that thats where dallas ran off to. And at the end they get back toghether n some smut maybe?? :) Oh n btw they were each others first kiss n allat, until dallas turned hood.

[ “I WAS ONLY 17 WHEN WE FIRST TRIED THINGS #📍

#🕶 WHEN SHE FIRST MADE ME FEEL LIKE A MAN ” ]

[ I lowkey forgot like half of dallys lore, sorry that I got a few things wrong (I think) im deadass too lazy to get my book out and read it to get my stuff right rn </3. I didn’t add smut cause I haven’t been feeling it lately, sorry anon 😞 hope its still good enough though! + I dont really like this I rushed it cause I had it in my drafts 4 so long.. ]

ENJOY ! ♡

Dallas Winston, your first boyfriend.. sort of. You two had been really close ever since you met when you were 10. By age eleven, he was your first kiss. Dallas was such a flirt, and you couldn’t resist when he asked for a kiss after a long day of hanging out. For the next two years, the both of you were seen everywhere together when he wasn’t getting into trouble. Regular trouble. Before he became a hooligan. Talking back to his parents, Bad grades, Pulling pranks.. that kind of stuff.

One day, he just dissappeared. You were looking around for him in the places he'd usually be in, but nothing. You even worked up the courage to go and ask his buddies if they had seen him. The older boys were tough and mean looking, but they were decent in attitude with the ladies. "Naw. he didn't tell ya?" One of them with shaggy brown hair and green eyes with a scar next to one of them asks you. "Police are after him. He fleed last night, little lady." The boy brings a cigarette to his mouth.

"That's rough," a boy you were familiar with, named James chuckles. "Dally, just up and left without telling his girl. What a shame." He shakes his head. That was the last time you ever heard of Dallas.

You had forgotten about it quick. Well, not forget.. but never thought about it again unless someone would bring up stuff like "who was your first kiss?" or "have you ever had a boyfriend?" answering those questions didn't hurt, either. Dallas wasn't even a real boyfriend. He was just a friend. Not even a great one, either. He was just a funny guy who kept you company.

"Forgetting" about him was easy because now that he was gone, guys had the guts to ask you out. They never did before because they knew Dallas. They knew he liked you and if they tried anything, he'd probably try to fight them or something. One boy in particular named Brandon Lawrence caught your eye. He was a little bit taller, black hair and green eyes, pale with rosy cheeks. He was handsome and really nice.

Brandon was your boyfriend of 4 years before you had to move.

"Tulsa?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Ain't that in Oklahoma?" Brandon asks with a hint of worry in his tone. "Yeah, it is.." You say in a gentle tone, smoothing out the wrinkles in your long skirt. "Baby, that's like a thousand miles from here! How am I gonna see you? You can't go!" Brandon didn't mean it in a 'you can't leave me, I won't allow it.' kind of way. He wasn't like that. "Well, that's what I wanted to talk about.. we have to break up. It’s not gonna work out."

—

When you moved to Tulsa, everything seemed so.. boring. There wasn't much to do.. especially since you knew nobody there. The first couple of weeks, you stayed in the house, watching tv, reading, cleaning—literally anything but going outside to socialize. Your family would be classified as 'Socs'. Your parents weren't filthy rich, but they were nowhere near as poor as the Greasers.

Men that your father worked with warned him about the Greasers. How they were hoods and no good. "It's best for you to stay inside," your father told you one day at dinner. "A little lady like you has no buisness being out in the street with those low-lifes." Whatever, you thought. It's not like you had any desire to go out anyway.

But unfortunately one day your mother sent you to buy a few things from the nearby mini-mart. With no fuss, you obey. It had been a while since you've been in the sun, so why not? Plus, it wasnt that far of a walk.

On your walk, a few other Soc guys your age hit on you while you made your way. A few girls judged, others smiled, thinking you were so pretty. You felt self conscious even if there were a few girls who thought you were gorgeous. Maybe it really is better to stay inside instead of going out and making a fool of yourself.

You were only a crosswalk away from the mart when you heard a group of men laughing. But there was one guy who had an awful laugh. Annoying, loud.. was it? Theres no way. You look over at the men walking across the street. Yup. It was exactly who you thought it was: Dallas Winston.

He was so much taller and muscular than the last time you saw him. One of the guys he was with noticed you staring, and what did he do? He told Dal. The brunette looks over, not recognizing you. But he did think you were pretty. You cross the street, passing by them and into the mart without looking at them.

Oh, how you hoped he wouldn't follow you in.. but he did. And he was quick with what he wanted to say. "You from 'round these parts, sweetie? Never seen you before." He checks you out while you pick out a few oranges. "I just moved here," you respond gently. "Moved from New York. How come you never wrote me?" You look back at him, meeting his confused expression. "What?" He asks.

"Its me, Dallas." He stares at you like your crazy, but he was also trying to figure out who you were. Finally, he gets it after a minute. "Oh my God," He shakes his head. "What're you doing here?" He smiles and punches your arm in a friendly manner. "Never thought I'd see ya again."

"Yeah, neither did I." you respond.

You spent the rest of the day catching up.. privately, of course. He told you why you couldn't be seen together. "Im a dirty Greaser, and you're a squeaky clean Soc." he explained. You didnt exactly understand, but you guessed it was a class thing.

He told you that the reason he flew was because he was going to get arrested again. He had done something really bad, but he didn't want to say what it was. "Mm," you nod your head. "Well, atleast I didn't go my whole life without seeing you again."

"I thought about you a lot." He confessed. "I wanted to say something before leaving, but I couldn't. I didn't have the time.. and I didnt write cuz.. I dont know. I dont have a real reason." He shrugged. "Sorry." He had a soft touch to him. Definitely not normal. Dallas had already told you about how he's big trouble and gets IN to big trouble. How hes a big tough guy and doesnt need anybody.. and you believed him.

"Hey, she needs to go, man." Two-bit, his friend calls out. "Cant have her here too long, pal. Darry don't know she's here." He says and goes back inside the house. "Shit, he's right.. Darry gets off of work soon. Gotta get you outta here." He walks ahead, expecting you to follow.

"Look, I know you probably expected more, but I dunno what to say. Nice to see you again?" He tells you. Yes, it upset you, but how could you blame him? He's always been a little awkward, and he probably had stuff to do. He has a life here, and you don't. "Yeah, okay.." You nod. "I should be going." You clutch your bags full of stuff a little tighter. "I'll see you around."

"Maybe."

[cillianhead]

Red Eyes || Cillian Murphy x Reader

summary: You and Cillian take a plane trip and a certain Jackson Rippner steals his spot.

PART TWO to A New Pair Of Glasses

put my vibrator on and smoked a j and then wrote away on this one so i'm so very sorry if it is bad or strange or something.

Enjoy my lovely readers <3

warnings: SMUT!!, unprotected p in v, DUBCON AND NONCON THEMES!!!, Daddy kink, vulgar language, swearing, choking, car/airplane sex / public sex, tight spaces, handjobs, oral sex (f and m receiving + reader sucks on his balls?!), slapping, spitting, claustrophobia, roleplay (Cillian is roleplaying as Jackson Rippner), some mentions of subspace/being in subspace sort of, some more dacryphilia, degradation, overstimulation, talks of FAKE! Explosives and talks of FAKE! plane crashes, biting, fake cheating scenarios, vibrators, and general adult content!!!

LONG FIC!!

18+ MINORS DNI

Standing in the crowded airport, you leaned against Cillian for support as you waited in line to check in your bags for your flight. You were going on a trip to New York, and the flight would be almost eight hours.

"How are you feeling, love?" Cillian whispered, subtly kissing your neck. "You nervous about our flight?" "I feel a little nervous... yeah..." You nodded, smiling softly up at him. "But we'll be fine... just... you know how I get..."

"It's alright, I'll be right there with you... the whole time," He hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder. The line was long and the waiting was tedious but at least you had the comfort of your boyfriend beside you.

After checking in and waiting for your flight, which wasn't for another hour and a half, Cillian and you decided to stroll along the airport stores, hand in hand.

"What's happening with that interview you have tomorrow?" You asked, leaning on him a bit.

"Oh... erm... I've forgotten his name..." Cillian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's literally something I had written down 'cause I t'aught it was funny..." Cillian groaned. "Oh... it was some bloke literally called Neil Lewis... some American guy..."

"No way," You laughed loudly, and Cillian looked at you, grinning fondly. "That's awesome, what's the interview even for?"

"I betcha a million bucks it's gonna be like sumn' about like..." He said these words while painting the air with his hands to make imaginary captions. "Neil Lewis.... and how he would react to different characters of mine..." He snickered and you laughed.

"That's a fun idea, though! Neil Lewis has always been a sweet spot of mine..." You sighed dreamily. You remembered when you and Cillian had first started talking and were only really doing all that sugar daddy stuff; you watched 'Watching The Detectives' for the first time. Of course, you hadn't seen all the Batman films at that point. You saw Inception when you were high and in some guy's Mom's garage and weren't comprehensive of what was happening except for when that one really sexy guy, Robert Fischer, showed up. That's when the movie had your attention. The guy was kissing your neck, and suddenly Robert showed up, and you didn't give a single shit about how hot the guy kissing you was; you'd look at the TV and moan louder than you did before. Neil Lewis had really awakened something else inside of you, though.

Something a little more tender.

He was just so cute, and as Violet said, 'You're like the sweetest guy I've ever met' (or something along those lines). You were sitting in a cute new little nightgown Cillian had bought you (oh, and a new vibrator with his initials carved in the middle). It was Valentine's Day, and unfortunately, he was in America shooting a film, and he wouldn't be back until the 17th. You were bratty and whiny, but you were grateful, and he knew that; you just liked to get sassy. You put on the romcom, an obvious choice as to why you picked it.

'Watching The Detectives' Starring Lucy Liu and Cillian Murphy.

You were already riled up when you saw him in the opening shot, but as time went on, you grew increasingly jealous of Violet and more in love with Neil Lewis, thus falling in love with Cillian Murphy. You remember calling Cillian up, despite the time difference, and rambling on about how cute he was in the movie.

Anyway... as you walk through the airport together and look at each other with your blazing love. Cillian lovingly kissed you on your forehead as you walked back to your gate.

"So about this flight..." Cillian cleared his throat after you walked along quietly.

"Yeah?" You hummed, tearing your eyes away from the cute dress you saw in one of those window stores and looked to Cillian with a grin.

"I won't be... erm... boarding on with you," Cillian cleared his throat. "I'm sitting in a different part of... de.... er... plane."

"What?!" You exclaimed, eyes widening and grabbing onto his arm tightly as you two swayed along. "What do you mean, Cill?"

"This flight is quite packed... and so I couldn't manage to fit us together so... yer gonna be in first class while I'm in coach..."

"What? Cillian? No... y-you take first class... you need it more than me..." You were pouting at him with the most pitiful eyes.

"No, baby... it's okay," Cillian hushed. "I'm sure you're gonna meet some guy in first class... who you can pretend is me..."

"I would never do that," You whispered, shaking your head insistently as you fiddled with the red ruby around your neck, thinking about Jonathan Crane. "Why would you say that?"

"It's okay, baby... you'll be able to sleep..." Cillian and you walked into a quiet little cafe. "They'll wake you right before we land... I doubt you'll be sittin' next to anyone since you're in first class..."

"Cillian... why didn't you tell me this sooner?" You whined, sitting down right beside him and clinging onto him while you still can.

"'Cause I know you'd never come if you realized we won't be sittin' together..."

"That's a fair point..." You mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder.

After sitting for a while and sipping the teas you had gotten from the airport coffee shop, it was time to board the plane. You wrapped your arms around Cillian and kissed him passionately.

"I'm gonna miss you so much... Cill..." You whispered against his lips breathily.

"I know, baby," He hummed, stroking your hair. "You're gonna do so good for me... you can handle it... I love you so much..."

"I love you..."

You couldn't dare look back as you walked off with just the weight of your onboard bag. You found your seat... and fuck, it was nice, you had plenty of legroom, and you could even push your headrest back so you could lie down. You watched people start to board the rest of the plane, waiting to see Cillian walk past, but he never did. You sighed and rested back in your seat, buckling up for the takeoff that always made you anxious.

"...F7... F8... Oh, here we go..." You heard an American accent from behind you and turned to look Cillian in the eyes. He had styled his hair differently and was wearing a completely different outfit from what he was wearing before. Cillian smirked as he coldly approached, and you realized what he was doing. He was being Jackson. Honestly, you had completely forgotten about that conversation you two had and didn't expect Cillian to follow through with it. "Oh, hello, seems we're sitting together?" He gave you a strange smile as he sat beside you and smirked. "The name's Jackson..." He reached out his hand for you to shake.

"Oh... it's... it's Y/N..." You smiled, playing along. It was unnerving the way he moved and spoke. It was truly like it was just another person who happened to look exactly like Cillian. Jackson shook your hand with a nod before receding back into his chair beside you.

The flight took off, and you clutched onto your seat for dear life, trying to ignore the feeling of having Jackson's eyes on you the whole time.

"You're a very pretty girl..." He hummed once you were in the air and could unbuckle yourself, looking at you with a tilted head and lustful eyes. "You got a boyfriend?" He asked as if he were interested.

"Y-Yes..." You nodded, feeling flustered, playing along with a hidden grin.

"Aw... that's a shame," He cooed mockingly. "If only he had been here... to protect you..."

"Wh-What?" You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, laughing nervously. He just shook his head, scratching at his stubbly chin.

"Oh, don't worry," He reassured, mocking your trembling lip with a pout of his own. "I'm gonna take good care of you... sweetheart..."

"How... how...?" You stammered.

"You stupid slut," He spat, rolling his eyes at how pathetic you were. "You know how I'm gonna take care of ya..." Jackson's mouth got real close to your ear as he spoke the words, "I'm gonna fill that perfect little pussy with my seed..." He hissed.

"No... you can't... please..." You whimpered. About five or six people were sitting in the first-class cabin, yet luckily, none were sitting in front of you or behind you. "My boyfriend's in the... other cabin..."

"Oh, I know all about your little boyfriend... in fact... in the left pocket of his jacket... you see... I've been taking some sewing classes... and I was in your room one night while you were there, and he wasn't..." He laughed dryly, licking his teeth as he sucked in more air to speak. Your eyes were wide with horror and dismay... yet your legs squeezed together with arousal. "Anyway... as I was saying, in the pocket in his jacket is a tiny... yet very powerful explosive..."

"Wh-What...?" You panicked, speaking a bit too loudly. Jackson slapped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

"If you don't do everything I say, I've got the remote here in my pocket and this whole fuckin' plane will go down over the Atlantic," He whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. "Do you hear me, bitch? I'm an impatient man. You're going to do every fuckin' thing I tell you to do or say bye-bye to your boyfriend and the death of everyone on this fuckin' plane..."

You nodded your head desperately, tears slipping down your cheeks. He pulled his hand off of your mouth and wiped your spit off his hand with your shirt. "I understand..."

"Good," He said gruffly, checking his watch. "They won't be bringing out any of the meals for another hour, so I say we have a little... fun while we wait for our meals... and then, of course... there'll be dessert after our dinner..." Jackson smirked.

"We'll get caught... we'll get in trouble," You protested, tucking your knees up into your chest.

"Oh babydoll, don't you know what I do for a living?" He snarked, flashing his sharp teeth at you in that cold, threatening smile. "I know how to do many things... and not get caught..." He whispered into your ear, biting at your neck. "Now open your legs for me. I'm gonna put this cute little vibrator in your pussy, do you understand?" "Al-Alright..." You slowly opened your legs. Your shorts were loose and thin, so you felt him slip his fingers up your thighs and in through the sides of your underwear.

"Fuck, you're soaking for me, princess..." He panted in your ear as he easily pressed two fingers into your cunt. "Doesn't that boyfriend of yours treat you well enough?" He teased. "I wasn't expecting you to be this turned on... I bet he doesn't make you cum enough, is that it?" His fingers began massaging your already sensitive G-spot.

"O-Oh... god..." Your head fell low as he continued panting in your ear, clearly getting affected by how good it felt to have his fingers inside of you. His cock strained against his tight sweatpants. "Jackson..."

"Wow, you gave in to that easily," He laughed, and you felt ashamed at how good you were feeling and how hard you were trying not to make much noise. It was good. The lights were quite dim since it was an overnight flight... everyone else was asleep or had their earbuds in. "You've gotta stay quiet, don't make me gag you," He demanded quietly as you saw the small pink vibrator that perfectly sucked on your throbbing clit. He slipped it into your underwear and turned it on... it was dead silent, but you could feel the intense vibrations. "Look at you, squirmin' for me, and that's only the first setting." His American accent was sickening and impossibly sexy.

"Jackson... I can't... it's too much," You dug your fingernails into the leather seats, clenching your teeth together. Your pussy quivered as he slipped his left hand into your underwear and covered you in a blanket provided to first-class flyers. Anyone walking by wouldn't even notice where his hand placement was. "I'm too... sensitive... it's too much, Daddy..." You whined, pressing your face into his shoulder and biting down on the material of his coat to quieten your stifled moans.

"Wow, look at that, I've got you calling me daddy..." He snorted, leaning back in his chair as he finger-fucked you and turned up the setting on your vibrator that sent crippling waves of pleasure through you. "Bet your real daddy wouldn't be too happy to hear that sweetheart..."

"You're not... you're not my daddy... it was a mistake..." You mewled quietly.

"I am right now, sweetheart," He took a whiff of your hair and bit back a groan. He was so turned on right now, and he wanted to drag you into the bathrooms and fuck you right now, but he wanted to prolong the pleasure for as long as possible. "I'm your daddy, say it... I'm gonna fuck you so much better than your daddy... gonna show you how a real man likes to fuck."

You caved in on yourself, squirming further into a ball as your entire body tensed. Your pussy clenched onto his fingers. Every time he flicked them out of you, a quiet yet distinct squelch of your arousal would be heard. Your orgasm lit you on fire, and he didn't slow down. In fact, his fingers moved even more precisely against your G-spot, causing you to croak and bury your face in your hands. You saw stars as you gushed around his fingers, and Jackson showed no signs of stopping as you came down from your high.

"Jackson... stop... stop it..." You cried, tears streaming down your face. "It hurts!"

"Oh, shut up, you spoiled brat," He grumbled, continuing to fuck you brutally with his talented fingers. "I saw what you did with that little doctor last week," He chuckled. "Your blinds are never closed... anyone passing by could see you whoring yourself out to other men..."

"Jackson, please... I just... I just need a break..." You whispered, flinching every time he massaged your spongy walls. He slowed down his fingers just a bit, it was enough to give you some relief.

"Does your daddy know about what you did with that doctor?" Jackson chuckled. "Imagine when he finds out about that... and finds out about... what you did with me on the plane..." He was getting off on your tears of guilt. "What a shame..." He whispered. "Especially since this means he'll have to cancel the reservation at that restaurant where... I'm pretty sure I saw him out shopping... the same day you fucked your doctor... could he have possibly bought a ring?" Jackson laughed mischievously. It would sound like someone told a funny joke to anyone else but to you... it was bloodcurdling at the realization of what he was implying.

"N-No..." You whispered, clutching at his wrist to slow him down.

"Would you have married him, or are you too much of a whore to settle down?" You could tell there was a deeper meaning in that question. Obviously, he was still playing along with the character. But you realized he wanted to know if you were ready for him to propose.

"Of... of course, I would have... I want to spend my whole life with him..." You whispered. "I... I... he doesn't have to know about what happened between my doctor and I..."

"I'll keep my mouth shut," He smiled with a rosy blush on his cheeks... burning through his cold demeanor. He grabbed a hold of you and kissed you sloppily, tongues and spit clashing together. He made out with you as he picked up the speed, and he was probably playing a dangerous game here by reaching up and groping at your tits. But the plane was dead silent, and he was getting desperate.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck..." You whimpered as he ran soft circles over your shirt, perfectly teasing your hard nipples. "I'm... cumming...." You whispered, arching your back into his hands, and you heard the familiar sound of him clicking the button to turn the vibrator up. You quietly thrashed around as he milked you for all you had.

"That's it... make even more of a mess all over my fingers..." He cooed, watching you throw your head back with your vision going black. "Such a fucking slut..." He grunted as he pulled his sticky fingers out from your underwear and popped them in his mouth. You watched, still mewling and squirming around with pleasure as you came. He closed his eyes and groaned with satisfaction as he licked his fingers clean. "Open your mouth,"

Hesitantly, you opened your mouth, and he grabbed your jaw roughly and spat onto your tongue. You moaned at the taste.

"Swallow it, bitch," He barked quietly, turning off the vibrator and slipping it back into his pocket. You had no idea how he managed to get that thing through checkage, but right now, you were too fucked out to care. "That's it..." He sighed happily as you gulped his spit down.

"Jackson..." You whispered, chest rising rapidly. "Need a break..." Jackson scoffed. "You're not gettin' one, princess," He chuckled darkly in your ear. "Right now, you're gettin' up and going into that bathroom there..." He points to the first-class bathroom. "And in five minutes, I will follow in after you... and you're going to take my cock... like a good girl..."

You opened your mouth to protest but he looked away with a firm nod of his head. "Go on, Y/N, or I'll fuck you right here."

You hurriedly stood up on shaky legs, smoothing out your shorts, and tried your best to act casual as you made your way to the tiny stall at the end of the aisle. Jackson's eyes burnt holes in the back of your head. You glanced back at him momentarily to see him smirking at you devilishly.

The bathroom was small and tight, but it was enough to fit you in it {almost} comfortably. The following five minutes were long and torturous as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your once neatly combed hair was now messed up like you had just gotten out of bed. Anxiously and insensibly, you looked over yourself in the mirror, making sure you looked good and fuckable for your boyfriend. Two soft raps were heard in your stall.

"It's me," Jackson mumbled. "Let me in."

You quickly unlocked the door, and just as quickly as it opened, it was closed and locked. Jackson didn't say a word; he just grabbed you by the throat and pushed you up against the wall. Fuck, it was cramped in here with the two of you. He immediately latched himself onto your neck and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stop you from crying as his hands worked to undoing your top and bra.

"Fucking hell, of course you've got perfect tits," Jackson groaned, lowering his mouth even more to pop your nipples into his mouth. Jackson's mean glare relaxed into shut eyes and furrowed brows of concentration. He moaned into your tits as he now slid down your shorts til you were just in your shorts and your blouse was wide open. "Whore..." He growled demeaningly as he was now face to face with your throbbing cunt. "Look how wet your panties are..." He whispered, tracing his fingers along your clothed slit. "This all for me?" He smirked as he pushed your panties to the side and kissed your clit.

"Oh... oh... god... J-Jackson..." You whined breathily, pushing your hands into his hair as he sucked on your clit like it was a cherry lollipop. His lips sucked harshly on your bud as his tongue slipped down and lapped your arousal up. His mouth was sinfully talented, and with the impending pleasure, you squeezed his head with your quivering thighs. "Fuck... you eat my pussy so good... fuck... oh..." You were giving it everything you had to not scream as he slipped two fingers into your juice-gushing cunt.

You were simply the sweetest of them all. Cillian grew high off of the way you tasted. It was like no other, truly incomparable to anything. None of the ripest and sweetest fruits could even begin to beat the taste of you. He'd happily die right here with your pussy in his mouth and the sound of your pretty sighs. Despite the deafening grip your thighs had on his skull, he was reveling in the way he was completely wrapped up in you. Like you were a spider luring in prey, and now you've caught it. But let's not forget who's in charge here... of course, it's Jackson. He's not eating pussy to get her off. He's eating pussy to get himself off. It doesn't matter if she screams or cries for him to stop. If that's what he wants, he'll drink her up like the essence of life for the rest of time. And oh, how good your fucked out pussy tasted. Jackson made you cum over and over again on his tongue until you were sobbing and trying to shove him away from you, but you were so fucking dizzy and still in the middle of cumming, so you had the strength of a twig.

"Pl-Please... Jackson..." You mewled, tugging on the roots of his hair to get him off of your pounding cunt. "It's too much... please... it's too much... fuck... stop... please!"

Tears were streaming down your face, and with your blurred vision, you looked down to see Jackson's newly opened ice-cold eyes staring straight up at you. You had seen that look from him a million times. You knew how much Cillian loved eating your pussy, and at this point, it wasn't even about being his character but enjoying the feeling of your heavenly sex in his mouth. The look in his eyes was identical to what a blood-drunk beast would look like as it devoured its unwilling and innocent victim. His pupils were blown wide, and his nostrils flared at the sight of your overstimulated tears. And this only made his cock that much harder.

"I'm serious, stop... please..." You whimpered, eyes falling in and out of focus. It truly felt like he was consuming you. "F-Fuck... you've had enough... please... Jacks... Jackson..." Your head falls back as you dissociate from reality. The confined space of being in this airplane bathroom with him wasn't helping with the overstimulation. Jackson had you cornered, as a predator would with its prey, and there truly was nowhere else for you to go from here.

"Alright..." He panted, lips smeared in cum and arousal as well as his own spit. "Time for me to fill you with my fucking babies."

"Just need a break... please... I need a break..." You wheezed, leaning against the wall for support. "Please... Jackson... I don't think I can handle it..."

"Oh, but that's not what your cute little pussy is saying... is it now?" He purred, spreading your folds open with two lazy fingers to peek at the sight of your dripping hole. "I'm fucking you whether you like it or not, princess... don't fucking deny me of what I'm so fucking entitled to..." He growled as he manhandled you into being in a more bent over position. You were completely helpless to him now. "If you even make a noise, I swear to god..." He huffed as he shoved your now discarded panties into your mouth to gag you. You let your head hang low with shame as you heard him undo his belt and zipper. "You're gonna enjoy this, I know you are," He whispered condescendingly into your ear, swiping a falling teardrop off of your cheek and licking it off of his thumb.

Your eyes squeezed shut as he poked at your entrance with the thick head of his cock, slowly teasing it in and out. Not enough to honestly give you anything, but just enough to rile you up. You pressed your ass back into his hips, and he willingly slipped in his cock. Despite how overstimulated you were just moments ago... your pussy changed its mind and decided it needed cock like your entire life depended on it.

"Look at that," He cooed as he slowly rutted his dick in and out of you. "I didn't think you'd fit so snugly around my cock. I thought you were gonna be a loose whore based on all the men you sleep with..." He said, and you mumbled through your cotton panties, but it barely made a sound. "Fuck... I see why he wants to marry you now..." Jackson hissed as he began truly pistoning his cock in and out of you. The wet noises were disgustingly loud, and anyone walking past could hear what was happening and immediately be suspicious. As well as the sound of his hips clapping with your ass as he fed you with his cock. Your mind was completely blank, like a loading screen almost the feeling of his dick was the only thing that mattered to you, your mind barely perceiving anything else.

The claustrophobia you felt before was non-existent, and it no longer was clear to you that you were literally in an airplane bathroom. You felt like you genuinely just were made to be fucked in the best way possible. Only by Cillian, of course... or well... uh... Jonathan... or Jackson...

"Excuse me?!" A knock from the outside pulled you out of your dumb whore state and made you look back at Jackson with a panicked expression. "How much longer are you gonna be in there? I really need to use this bathroom!"

"Too bad, wait for another one," Jackson grunted to the unwanted customer. "I'm gonna be a while."

"For fuck's sake..." The stranger grumbled before you heard the sound of them waddling away.

"You heard that?" Jackson growled in your ear, piercing your G-spot with every thrust of his hips. "I'm gonna take my sweet time with you, princess..." He moaned, hips trembling a bit at how good it felt to fuck you like this. The thrill of doing this was also an aphrodisiac to this situation, only fueling the fire. Of course, you'd done sneaky little things like this with Cillian before, but nothing this... outrageous... this risky. "How will your boyfriend feel about getting back to your hotel to find you full of another man's cum?" Jackson was groaning quietly. He was on the edge of bursting inside of her, but he wanted to hold on just a little longer. "He's not gonna be very happy, hmm?" He laughed at your tears, feeling the way you squeezed around him and told him you were starting another orgasm. And holding on to the edge was getting much harder for Jackson... with the way your cunt was absolutely trying to milk him for his cum.

"Mmmphhff!!" You moaned through your cotton gag, now soaked in your spit. Jackson laughed at the sounds you were making. He grabbed ahold of you by your hair while also keeping a steady grip on your lower back to keep you in place. He yanked on your hair like you were just a doll and looked at your big red eyes, sore from all the crying.

"Keep on cryin' like that, baby," He huffed, squinting his eyes on your orgasmic face. "Gonna spill my load into you cause of how fucking pretty you look when you cry..."

You cried in shame and embarrassment but also in pure pleasure that he was making you feel with his cock alone. You felt the hot spurts of cum begin to fill you up, and with that sensation alone, you felt yourself coming undone again. Jackson used you like a fleshlight, painting the inside of you white with his seed and getting off on how fucking pathetic you looked with tears smeared all over your face as well as your tits hanging out of your top. He looked away from your wet face to your coincidentally gushing pussy. He had never seen you so wet before, and his cock slid in and out of you like a waterslide. His cum was spilling out of you as his orgasm intensified at the beautiful sight of what his cock was doing to you.

"Shit," He hissed. His movements were sloppy, but it didn't matter to you because you had pretty much left this realm with how fucked-out you were. "Fuck, I need you to have my kids," He cried out, and you noticed that little bit of Irish slip out in his shaky voice. "Need to see ya pregnant... and fuck... fuckin' plump with my baby in ya... and... everyone will know who you fuckin' belong to..." Cillian whimpered, his hands now on both of your hips as he stilled himself completely. He shot the last squirts of cum deep into your womb.

He panted heavily as he remained inside of you. You both came down from your highs collectively. He slowly pulled out of you and that softness that lingered in the air immediately dissipated as he pushed you roughly down on your knees, face smushed against his wet cock.

"Lick me clean, slut," He commanded, hand placing your head firmly against his cock. "Want to see how good you are with your mouth."

You closed your eyes as you sucked off his cock. He was biting his lip to keep in the soft moans. His cock was still highly sensitive, but fuck... the feeling of you licking and sucking on him like he was a lollipop or some kind of sweet treat. He watched you with hooded eyes as you kissed down his clean shaft, now only coated in your saliva. Your lips wrapped around one of his balls, and swirled your tongue around them softly. He let out a loud gasp, growing properly hard again at the feeling of your mouth on his balls.

"Fuck... open your mouth... I'm gonna cum again... fucking hell..." Jackson grumbled, pushing you off of him and stroked his cock with his tip on your tongue. "I want you to swallow every last drop..."

"Yes... sir..." You nodded obediently, mouth watering, ready for the taste of his cum on your tongue.

With one last groan, he released his sperm into your waiting mouth. "Oh... fuck... princesss..." He sighed, cum spilling from your full mouth. As you tried to gulp it all down. His cock twitched a few more times before he stopped and pulled away, panting for air.

You licked your cum-covered lips and chin, smiling dopily like you were stoned. He tucked himself carefully back into his underwear and did his pants and belt back up, all while smirking at you.

"Jackson..." You whispered, melting to the floor after putting your underwear back on.

"Cillian, now, love," He whispered, crouching before you to help you back onto your feet. "You did so good for me... I'm so in love with ya..." He kissed along your face, holding you in his arms. "It's okay... baby girl, I'm right here," You buried your face in his neck and breathed heavily. You stood there while hugging until Cillian was fully dressed and stepped out. You waited it out in there for a little longer. You looked at yourself with red eyes and a dazed expression on your face. What had just happened to you, if anyone were to see you, was pretty clear. So as you slipped out of the bathroom, you didn't notice the two air hostesses watching you leave the bathroom that reeked of sex and cum now.

Cillian was sitting calmly, reading a book, and when he looked up at you, his eyes were full of love and also a look of concern.

"You alright, baby?" He hummed, stroking your hair affectionately. You nodded and pushed your face into his soft shirt, whining. "What is it? Did I hurt you too much?" He whispered with knitted eyebrows.

"N-No... daddy..." You whispered and he knew immediately what was wrong.

"Oh... baby," He hummed, quickly realizing you could push the armrest between you up, and he did just that, scooting closer to you and pulling your legs over his lap to cradle you more. "You sweet thing... you did so good for me," He praised lovingly, leaning down and kissing you softly. The position was a little suggestive to onlookers but not quite enough to necessarily get you in any trouble. "You're so fuckin' beautiful," He whispered with your spit drenching his lips, teeth, and chin. "Best girl... my best girl," He muttered before placing wet, sloppy kisses on the crowns of your forehead. "I love you..."

"I love you... Cill..." You smiled sleepily up at him, pussy mildly throbbing as you looked up at him. You just felt heavy with love and primal desire. It was hard to even focus on what you were saying or doing. Too preoccupied with taking in everything Cillian was doing. In a way, it was as if you were feeling everything he was feeling as if you had become one in mind and soul, both just existing, eternally connected and synced. It was symbiotic and so full of love. "You take such good care of me..."

Cillian laughed softly and kissed your face harder. "I could never care more about anything than you..." He hummed into your scalp. "You're my girl... you're... my world."

After those six words, nothing else really was comprehensive for you. You two cuddled up for the rest of the flight until you were made to buckle up for the touchdown. The long and treacherous journey of getting off an airplane into one of the busiest airports in the world was all a mind-numbing bore to you, and all your mind could really focus on was that Cillian was by your side with his hand resting on your lower back, guiding you through the maze-like hallways. In fact, you were in a trance at the way his arms looked carrying the heavy bags. You practically drooling with your lips parted, nearly wanting to take a bite from him. His arms drove you crazy, and the pure strength that he radiated from his body... that older, warm man.. sort of energy.

"C'mon, honey, this way, we're catchin' a car," He wrapped you up in one of his arms as he pushed along the trolley with your suitcases on it. "Don't wanna lose ya in New York City..." Cillian chuckled, and you just smiled up at him, silently looking around in amazement. "Still bein' quiet for me? Tha's okay, love, take your time..." He whispered sweetly.

You sat in the back of a black car, headed to a hotel on the city's other side. You sat in the middle, leaning on Cillian to rest as he looked down at you, the rising sun shining on his face angelically.

"Cillian..." You mumbled into his shoulder. "I'm cold."

"Yeah, baby, that's okay... you can hug me, c'mere... let me hold ya..."

This time, Cillian wrapped you up into his arms and ran his hands up and down your body. Checking into the lobby was long and tedious and dealing with Americans and other women ogling at Cillian made you want to puke your guts out. Like... stop looking at him like that. It was irritating the way they looked at you too, but at this point, you were too tired to care.

"Go on, baby... they've already sent our luggage to our room. I'll meet you there... Just gonna get us a snack..." He whispered in your ear as he was speaking to the receptionist. "It's okay..." He slid you one of the key cards to the room and patted you on the back. Hesitantly, you looked at him with a pout before walking to the elevator to find your room.

You were on one of the top floors of the tall building, and the hallways were long and white and blinding. It took you around another ten minutes to find your room. You sighed as you unlocked the door at the sound of a loud *BEEP* and waddled your way in; you let out a bloodcurdling scream at the sight of a man sitting on your bed with a sickening smile.

"Hello, darling," Jackson's cold voice chuckled in the dark. "I guess you weren't expecting me..." He laughed as he stood up from the bed. Your heart dropped, and part of you panicked... stupidly, you knew it was just Cillian continuing this little affair you were having. But part of you genuinely believed that it was Jackson, and you thought Cillian was downstairs, utterly unaware of this. He was so convincing.

"Wh-What...?" You murmured dumbly as he walked over to the door and locked it behind you.

"Oh darling, did you miss me?" His eyes in the dark were still eerily bright and unnerving, pupils blown wide as he looked at you like an owl in the night. "I bet your little pussy did," He said in faux sympathy, his hand cupping you through your shorts. You still hadn't fully recovered from what you two did just four hours ago, or however long it had been. "I can feel how hot you are for me..." Jackson spat. You were so entranced by what was happening that you didn't notice the complete outfit change. He was wearing a full suit. How would Cillian have time to beat you to your room and also get changed into a nice suit? But you didn't care. He was here, and that was all that mattered.

"Jack-Jackson... Cillian will be back... at any moment..." You whimpered as he pinned you against the wall and tugged your shorts down. "He'll... He'll hurt you... for touching me!" Jackson laughed wildly at your whimpering.

"Oh baby, I'd like to see him try," His laugh was sadistic and that of a villain's. "Think I'd... strap him to a chair and make him watch as I fuck you better than he ever could..." Jackson growled, pulling off his clothes. "Imagine how jealous he'd be... seein' me treat you like a whore, taking my cock so nicely... bet he'd never be able to look at you the same way again..."

"Jackson..." You said with tears in your eyes.

"Oh, you gonna cry more?" He snickered as he curled his fingers around your throat and pushed you down onto the bed. As quickly as you fell, he was on top of you, undoing his pants. "Fucking hell... thought about this tight pussy... gonna have to fill it with all of my cum..."

"Pl-Please... I'm still too sensitive..." You whispered and squeezed your eyes shut as he pulled your shorts down completely and ripped open your shirt. He was treating you like an inanimate object.

"Oh shut up, I know you fucking want me," He huffed. Your underwear was pushed to the side now, and the tip of his cock was pressing into your used hole. "Fuck..." Jackson groaned, shutting his eyes as your cunt squeezed around him like a vice.

"Please... I can't... I can't do anymore..." You cried, trying to push him off you, but it was no use. Your arms were like noodles at the moment. "Jackson..."

"Your pussy says otherwise," He laughed menacingly before slowly pulling back out with just his thick head in you. "You're so cute when you cry..." He snapped his hips back into you roughly, and you mewled as he brushed against your G-spot.

"Oh!" You cried. His hands groped at your tits as he began fucking you like some sort of inanimate sex doll. You couldn't deny the pleasure that was mixed in with the pain. It was all-consuming and truly debilitating. "Fuck..." Tears were slipping down your face as your body bounced with each thrust.

Jackson was fucking you like a feral animal, with absolutely no concern as to how you were feeling. Sweat was dripping down his neck, his pelvis slapping against your swollen clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your trembling body. God, it was shameful how good he fucked you. Cillian was really giving it his all to be this character.

"So fucking easy," He grunted. "You're such a fucking whore..." He growled. His American accent was spot on and eerily felt like someone else was talking and not Cillian.

"J-Jackson... you need to slow down... you're hurting me..." You whined as he pulled out of you and shoved you over onto your stomach before shoving his fat cock back in you. "O-Oh!" You choked out, reaching out your arms and gripping the bedsheets. "Slow... slow down... Jackson..." You whined, pressing your face into the sheets as you moaned pathetically.

"Shut the fuck up," He hissed, holding your plush hips in his hands as he rocked you back and forth on his cock. Jackson was loving the sight of your ass bouncing back and forth while he fucked you like a doll. The way he was fucking you was simply animalistic. Like he was the predator and you were the prey, he had found your weak spot, and he was now tearing you open, licking his teeth as he prepared you to eat. "Take my cock like a good girl would, bitch."

"Fuuuuuuck...." You cried out dizzily, mouth gaping wide as he tugged on your hair from behind. It was like a shot out of a porno, the sickening way his skin slapped against yours, or the way his hips were like literal pistons, drilling in and out of you. Meanwhile, the harsh grip on your hair was lulling you into a state of pure sex. You truly did not give a fuck what was happening, too distracted and in love with the fullness of his cock, fucking like all you were good for. "Jackson... Jackson.... please... fuck... please!" You weren't quite sure what you were trying to say. Your brain was no longer in coerce with your teeth and tongue and you were just spewing out broken sentences.

"What? You gonna cum?" He laughed sadistically. "That's right, cum on my dick, get it wet."

"Ernghhggghhg....." You drooled, moaning as he dropped your hair and quickly grabbed at your ass to fuck you further into your orgasm. Gee, you hoped the walls were thick with how loud you were being. With the slamming headboard and the way you were screaming for it, the surrounding hotel guests and people passing by in the hallways outside would surely hear every echo of it.

"So pretty when you're cockdrunk," Jackson grunted. "Bet your pretty boyfriend never fucks you like this... bet he's never got you seein' stars," His American accent made you squeeze. And in a way, he was right. You had never been so thoroughly spent as you were right now, and every nerve in your being was lit in some sort of rampageous flame and was endlessly burning in the pleasure. "Mmmm... I'm right... and you know it." He slapped your ass hard, having you seeing stars hanging around the room.

"J-Jaaaaccck...." You whined, pussy clenching down on his cock.

"Fuck..." He hissed disapprovingly. "Don't fuckin' do that, bitch... I'm not cumming in you yet."

"Please..." You whined. "Please, I need you... daddy... please..."

At this point, you were too dumb to realize it truly wasn't Cillian who was fucking you. You'd never call another man daddy if it weren't Cillian, no matter how in love or obsessed you were with that person, no man could ever be your daddy the way Cillian is. There was something fundamentally twisted inside of you that you didn't realize or immediately recognize the fact that this cock wasn't uncut and was a different shape. But anyway... on with the story...

"Aw... daddy?" He cooed mockingly. "You need your daddy?" Jackson cackled, gripping your hips in a painfully hard way, enough to leave hand-shaped bruises. "That's right, I'll cum in you... you can make me a daddy..." He smirked. "You're gonna take all that cum I give you and make us a fuckin' baby."

"Fuck... whatever you want..." You sighed, still delirious on pleasure. "Please... just want you to cum in me... please..."

Jackson chuffed cheekily and continued using you like some sort of cum-dump. "You're gonna do good in being full of my cum... I think you'll be able to handle it."

You nodded helplessly; your ass and your hips were throbbing with the way he was holding you. A never-ending give-and-take pushing you over the edge over and over again. It was a miracle when he finally came, groaning and moaning.

"Fuck, take it, milk my fucking cock," Jackson moaned loudly, throwing his head back and his hair splayed out on his face. His cum was thick and strong, hitting you like some sort of shotgun. You moaned with each spurt, gasping for air with how much arousal you were spilling from your used cunt.

"Oh... fuck..." You whispered, biting into your arm. "So good... so good... daddy..." He groaned as he pulled out of you and pushed you down onto the bed carelessly, not even bothering to watch how his load slowly leaked from your pussy or even to watch you finger it back in cherishingly.

"Wh-Where are you going, Cillian?" You asked softly, looking back up to meet him in the eyes. A chill went down your spine at the sight of his slightly longer hair and lighter-colored roots; he stared at you with the face of a thirty-year-old man, not a forty-year-old one. You were so confused and still so out of it.

Jackson just laughed and pulled his pants back on, grabbing his things before waving goodbye as he walked out of the room. What the fuck just happened? Cillian was doing a convincing job at how he was playing this Jackson character. You wondered how long he would be gone for. You needed comforting. You tucked yourself into bed with shaky legs and tears because Cillian wasn't there. You really needed him to hold you and to hear his voice.

Eventually, after about a dozen tears were shed, the door cracked open, and Cillian came with two small plates of cake for you to eat. "Oh baby, was I gone that long?" Cillian whispered, setting the plates down neatly on the bedside table. "I'm so sorry, my sweet girl," He whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and kissing you on the forehead. He seemed... so... not sweaty... and different. You stayed quiet and just nodded sadly as he pulled away and quickly got changed.

He crawled into bed with you, pulling the covers up, and quickly wrapped you up in his arms. "Daddy..." You whispered.

"Mmm?" He hummed while brushing your hair with his fingers.

"You were really rough with me... just then..." "What?" He asked with a confused tone. "What do you mean? I'm so sorry... did I sit on your hand or something?" "N-No... I'm talking about when... you were just in here... doing Jackson..."

"What do you mean?" He sat you up now. You two were sitting in each other's arms and staring at each other. His eyebrows were knitted as if he didn't recall what just happened. "I did pretend to be Jackson... on the plane? Yes?" He nodded, trying to see where you were going with this.

"No... I'm not talkin' bout the plane, silly..." You shook your head, laughing softly. "Just now... in the room... when you... you know... from behind..." You bit your lip, looking down at the sheets that were covering your bare legs entangled with Cillian's.

"I haven't been in here for..." Cillian hummed while checking his watch for the time. "Twenty minutes or so?" He looked back up at you, blue eyes flashing even more confusion. "Did you fall asleep and have a wet dream about daddy?" Cillian teased, leaning in and nuzzling your cheek while giggling.

"N-No! It was real... what do you mean?" You asked, now slightly offended that Cillian was trying to trick you. But part of you was putting the pieces together in your head, even if they didn't make sense. "Cillian... I've still got your cum... dripping out of me..."

"That must've been from earlier," Cillian sighed as he laid you back down, still in a laughing fit. "You're so cute... baby... can't believe you dream about me..." Cillian laughed, not noticing your silence. He looked up at the ceiling with a big grin on his face while you just pressed your face to his chest in hopes of it calming you down. Your eyebrows were furrowed deeply, and your mouth held a heavy frown. "Do you dream about me often?"

"Yes... but this wasn't a dream... Cillian... why are you trying to make that up? I'm being serious..."

"Love, I haven't been in here this whole time..." Cillian said a bit more seriously. He ran his thumb along your cheek lovingly. "You must've just fallen asleep... and had a little sexy dream about 'ye old Jackson Rippner."

"Yeah..."

"I know how sleepy you can get," Cillian whispered before pecking you softly. He talked against your lips, and for a brief moment, as if a screen were flashing, you saw Neil Lewis talking to you hotly against your lips, his breath and yours connected. He had you pinned on the couch. It was straight out of that scene with Violet and Neil on his couch. But as quickly as it came, it left. "We did travel quite a lot."

"Yeah..." You whispered, still taken aback by your vision. "Erm... let's just go to sleep... Cillian... I'm really tired..."

"Okay... yer not upset by me are ya?" He asked softly as you laid down and got into your usual spooning position. You faced away from him with that look on your face.

"No, baby, I'm just tired..." You whispered with red eyes. "Please just hold me... I love you so much..."

"I love you too, darling..." Cillian hummed, kissing along your shoulders. "Goodnight, my love, sweet dreams."

"Goodnight..." You murmured back absentmindedly.

Eventually, Cillian was snoring softly behind you, and though you felt sleepy, you just lay there and stared at the glowing clock face. You truly felt like you were going crazy. Why would Cillian lie to you and say that that was just a dream? You glanced down at your hips, which now held faint purple bruise-like indents from where Cillian had held you so hard. That did happen, right? You didn't dream that. Your dreams are never that vivid... or realistic.

Or maybe you were that tired? You have been traveling a lot. It was literally impossible for a movie character to come to life and fuck you. Right? You're just tired and confused, that's all. It was a dream. You convinced yourself.

Just a dream.

Just a...

Harmless...

Little...

Dream...

You repeated in your head as you let yourself fall asleep.

Was it?

-

EHEHEHEH ENJOY <3 I CAN'T WAIT TO RELEASE THE THIRD PART YAYAYAAYAYY!!!

(there will be a part 3 and it'll be the last part)

[priintiisor]

hello i have no idea what to draw for today but the prompt is "echoes" so here!! have my echoes when they were alive designs that i ve been cooking up for like. a month at this point

i have no idea how ancients look but they are furries. to me.

(wall echo gets to be on the same photo as the downpour people because there s 10 of them total and having 6 in the first one and 4 in the second one annoys me- anyways)

also uhh i wrote a part of what they say next to most of them because i regularly forget which one of the echoes is which lol

be warned i rambled A LOT below

i have a lot of Thoughts about these guys because i am physically incapable of drawing a character without coming up with a bunch of lore for them- maybe i ll make another post with all my sketches of them (it s like half my sketchbook at this point) and tell you all my headcanons and worldbuilding that i pulled out of literally nowhere but for now here s some disjointed thoughts:

- generally i kind of tried to make their colors match the area they re in. though sometimes i just added stuff cuz i thought it looked cool

- chimney echo is my favorite echo so i designed them first and as such they ended up with the worst design. oops- i still love you chimney echo

- the details on these guys are sometimes meaningful and sometimes random shit i added lol, i m not very good at coming up with very detailed things

- yes some of them (most of them-) have bird legs and some of them have paws. i have Headcanons about the ancients. also in my head (and based on the karma paintings) they re covered in bandages and clothes are optional so. i tried to have fun with their clothes. yes some of them don t have pants. such is life

- they also have tails because I SAY SO

- farm arrays echo has no idea why they re here

- droplets has a fuckton of pearls because they deserve it

- oh yeah also i like to think (based on the fact that there s just random shit written on most of the white pearls) that these guys just carried pearls around to write down whatever they needed or with whatever information they needed to have on hand. i also had fun with hanging pearls off of them

- wall echo is Tall and Scary and he Scares me

- for the guys that i imagine would have lived after the iterators were built, i also drew their citizen drones because.. i always forget to draw sofanthiel and. justice for sofanthiel

- metropolis echo and bitter aerie echo have weapons because i like to think the anicents fought eachother, like for sport- metropolis echo because she s artificer in ancient form and bitter aerie echo because they re basically just a challenge and their dialogue is just "oh you actually got here, good job". idk it made sense in my head

- yes bitter aerie echo has a harpoon. that was my friends idea actually

- yes metropolis echo s drone is sofanthiel. i think it s funny. i told you she s just arti in ancient form to me

- 8 spots on a blind eye was born with really bad sight in one eye but they tell everyone they lost it in battle because that s cooler

- rhinestones beneath shattered glass is an insane cat lady and we love them

- yes some of them are related, yes the funny colored pieces of cloth have meaning, i WILL NOT get into it now

- pebble for scale <3 (i have my reasons to believe the ancients were giagantic. mostly the fact that their city is IMPOSSIBLE to get around without double jumps (see my post from 2 days ago) but also i just think it s cool. and really funny. i have no idea how they get through pipes)

thanks for reading my ramblings. reminder i could ramble more i ve been THINKING about these guys

[eluxcastar]

Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

[psuedosugu]

Ohhhh my golly I saw your Vox x daughter reader an it got me thinking now HEAR ME OUT….what if reader got bored on day an just went for a walk and somehow came across Alastor, now let’s say Alastor’s a lil confused like he never knew Vox had a daughter and readers like *sad sigh* “I’d be surprised if anyone knew” an Alastors all fatherly to her at first it was to get dirt on Vox without reader realizing but in the end he just liked hanging out with her. Eventually Vox noticed how his daughter is gone half the time but reader just convinces her dad that she’s always home and how HES the one always away. Change the ending how you see fit or do whatever you like but UGH I love your writing stay hydrated and eat wellll🩵

assjjjkkj thank youuu the amount of feedback ive gotten on this acc that ive only been posting on for like 3 days is insane, anyways this is such an interesting idea omgee

cw: reader having some emotionally absent daddy issues

fem reader

pt 1 here

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

͙͘͡★ || so you had just gone out on an innocent walk, right?

͙͘͡★ || well, technically snuck out since your dad doesn’t like you going out by yourself.

͙͘͡★ || theres bad people out there! what if you got kidnapped or something?

͙͘͡★ || no one recognizes you, of course, since he doesn’t really talk about you let alone shows you to the public.

͙͘͡★ || you appreciate him for that, you guess, it must be annoying to not be able to go anywhere without a bunch of microphones in your face.

͙͘͡★ || you just wish he was around more! he barely makes any time for you and yeah, his work is super important and time consuming but you’re his daughter!

͙͘͡★ || lost in thought, you bump into a dude in the sidewalk.

͙͘͡★ || “whoops! excuse me, ma’am!”, he says in a weird, static-ish voice.

͙͘͡★ || your skeleton almost jumps out of your skin when you look up.

͙͘͡★ || the radio demon, the guy that your dad has had beef with since you were little

͙͘͡★ || you just stare at him with a “ :o “ look on your face, not knowing if you should run or not.

“little girl, are you, um, alright?” he stares down at you, slightly confused.

“im…uhhh…im okay!”

“you’ve heard of me, i suppose.”

“i guess…. my dad doesn’t really like you.”

“and who might your father be, hm?”

“yk the tv dude? the one thats, like, everywhere? yeah, that him.”

“hmm…interesting…i wasn’t aware he had a daughter…”

“well, he doesn’t really talk about…..”

͙͘͡★ || at this point you stop blabbing mid sentence, realizing you probably shouldn’t have said all of that to his sworn enemy.

͙͘͡★ || what if he does kidnap you and holds you for ransom?

͙͘͡★ || but he doesn’t do that, surprisingly.

͙͘͡★ || he asks you why you’re out alone so late and you shrug, saying that your dad wasn’t really there to stop you.

͙͘͡★ || you were naive and alastor was planning to use that to his advantage, not to hurt you, but to hurt vox.

͙͘͡★ || what would he think when he found out that his own daughter was buddy-buddy with his sworn enemy?

͙͘͡★ || he’d feel like a failure of a father, and thats what alastor wanted, to get under his skin.

͙͘͡★ || you guys walked while you told him everything, about him being away all the time, about you feeling lonely, while he nodded along

͙͘͡★ || you guys even stopped at one of those old timey bar places and bought you a milkshake!

͙͘͡★ || eventually you headed home, your dad hadn’t noticed you had been gone which figures.

͙͘͡★ || this became routine, you hung out with alastor and he gave you advice and stuff. you thought that if he had an ulterior motive it would’ve shown itself by now but no, it hadn’t.

͙͘͡★ || alastor himself had started to forget why he had even started all of this. he found himself enjoying your company and actually caring about you.

͙͘͡★ || after a while vox started to notice that he’s been seeing you less than he usually does.

͙͘͡★ || i mean, the tower is big but cmon! there were days where he would barely see you at all! where were you going?

͙͘͡★ || he confronted you about it at dinner one day.

“[name], dearest, i cant help but notice that i haven’t been seeing you around much lately. what’ve you been up to?”

͙͘͡★ || you pause, looking up from your food.

“i, um, dont know what you’re talking about.”

͙͘͡★ || he furrows his (virtual) eyebrows.

“is that so?”

“mhm!”

͙͘͡★ || vox is reasonably skeptical and resorts to spying on you through your smartwatch because of course you have a voxtech branded smartwatch!

͙͘͡★ || hes absolutely livid when he finds out who you’ve been sneaking out to be with and he’s waiting for you when you get home.

͙͘͡★ || you’re indefinitely grounded until he says so and he starts tracking where you go in the tower.

͙͘͡★ || he knows that its a violation of privacy and stuff but dont you see that he’s trying to protect you? alastor is dangerous! he doesn’t get how you didn’t see it earlier.

͙͘͡★ || alastor does succeed on what he set out to do, though. vox is distraught, feeling like a horrible father. he even vents to valentino about it out of all the people!

“-i mean, what kind of father doesn’t even notice their own child sneaking out in broad daylight every day? i should’ve paid more attention to her, im a failure!”

“mhm….yeah….”

͙͘͡★ || val obviously doesn’t give a shit.

͙͘͡★ || after not bumping into you for a while and seeing the up in vox slandering him online, alastor figures what happened.

͙͘͡★ || he’s glad that he succeeded in his mission to bother vox further but does miss talking to you.

͙͘͡★ || vox does vow to make more time for you and be a more attentive dad, so i guess some good comes out of this.

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

i do requests!

check out my masterlist!

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

AY I CALLED IT! To the anon who asked me about it, we are getting a silly episode today :D

I'll be honest, that arc got me burnt out with all the theories and teasers. Sure was fun but man, it's like coming home from a party. Now I can take things easy. Well, hopefully since the Puzzles figurine already dragged me back to my corkboard, I have no idea what the Team's planning smh /pos

why not have a good ol' time today, huh?

(the following is my live reaction:)

hey 4, I did see Gaslight District and dude, it looks like a movie. like how??? glitch surprises me everytime.

oh yea, and also bc james half-jokingly said that he's stop voicing 3 if we didn't watch the premiere. I mean, I already was planning to, no worries there :)

oh the intro, it never gets old

😨 oh... my god... <- my organized ass

"hey, Four" sorry but the fact that they called him 4 🥹 and technically this would be 3's second time. everyone, write that down

(and I did say it too, huh?)

oh, you mean the microwave 4's grandpa (read: SMG1) gave away? /hj

*sonic voice* oh yeah, this is happening!

put me in coach, todo quedara bien chingón después que acabamos. ✨bellísimo✨ diría yo

Oh, maybe next time for your presentation, luigi

...and there it is 😌↕️

how much food did that fridge....? nope nvm. only in the SMG4 universe *cheesy laugh track*

gross, yes, but Mario ate way worse stuff before. he should be fine, I still feel bad though

can we take a moment of just 4 here? :)

done? ok good

wait... was that a callback to the infestation episode?

well, that makes sense

*concerned microwave noises*

OH GOD MEGGY NOT THE HAIR

welp lesson 1, chat: always tie all hair up before cleaning

there we go, one room down! ooh, ramen sounds nice

...wait, say that one more time? "you don't know what me and those chopsticks have been through together"?

oh god.....

Western Spaghetti, is that you?

don't mind me, chat. i'm just going to uh.... be in my pillowfort for a bit

we were so close, man 😔

c'mon bob, you can't keep hoarding like this

well, we found one of the chopsticks

WOAH 😦 Mario really did it... and he might puke, GO GO GO

AAAH HIT THE BRAKES

ooh.....

oh god, it's even worse

4, you already got knocked out cold once, we can't let you go through it again

same, 3 😔↕️ same

hey swag, just. just take the microwave bud. don't mind this.

"The Castle's had a good run." ....i'm sorry, what?

I need to pause this. I need to leave the room. Everyone, take 5.

*40 minutes later* ......I don't. what am I supposed to say?

the Team had Swag say "the castle had a good run, time to nuke it", LITERALLY have him pulling out the IGBP thumbnail? AND THEN gave 4 ptsd flashbacks? just like that???

everything in my core just sank through the ground and into my grave! why, team, why? dude.......

oh, 4 :( *head in hands* I know bud, ik

idk how 4 does it, man. i would've crashed the fuck out

*sonic voice* hey Shadow, long time no see :D

the rats too?!

ok fine, that did get a chuckle out of me

there's the chopsticks, maybe you should store them under your beanie or smth

I mean, Meggy, you've always been unhinged in a silly way ahlkg;kl

THAT'S HOW WE DO IT 👏 LOCK IN

........the frame's missing. "wha?" the boarded-up door, see?

did you really think that I, Ink, would not know every detail about my mortal nemesis, the boarded-up door? tsk tsk, ofc not. Not while I'm a theorist. Ha, working on reference sheets has its use, mhm

AGAIN WITH THE NUMBER 4, I'M ON TO YOU, TEAM

sorry, Swag, no nukey time!

STOP THE PRESSES. LOOK AT 3 DOING A CELEBRATORY HOP:

you did? good.

also yeah, 4 I feel you bud :(

For sure.... *IGBP war flashbacks*

oh the cafe, my beloved. one day we'll see you soon.

uh oh.....

well um.... eggdog's playing with beeg outside, right chat? (for my sake, please nod) /j

Congrats to PlatinumLightJJ for your art being featured at the end credits! 🎉 love the lighting!

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Man, what an episode, huh? A lot has happened over the past few days, especially bc of the movie, but nothing like another silly episode for our meme show :)

From the looks of it, we actually got a new writer on the Team! Please, everyone, give a warm welcome to Evan Besser!

Lovely to have you here, friend! Not that you're gonna see this, but we look forward in seeing what you will create. While it is our silly little meme show, it has a special place in our hearts because of how much we've connected during its powerful, exciting, and emotional moments. Of friendship, (found) family. Loss and change.

As Boopkins said in IGBP, love wins. Love always wins, and it's been true every time. I offer the best of luck to you 🎉

As for the rest of you (aka chat), Evan (he/they btw) may be on Tumblr, but I expect yall to be respectful to them, as we do for the rest of the Team. Please do not send harassment or push them past uncomfortable boundaries. This is a pretty chill community, simply remember to be aware and kind, okay? coolio 👍

Now with the pleasantries out of the way, let's talk about the actual episode! Admittedly, it caught me off guard that both Bob and Meggy occupied some of the rooms in the Castle. Bob I get it, sure, he lives in the dump, but Meggy does have her home. Then again, it's not 4's Castle, it's the Crew's. 4 just happens to own the property and live there. In some past episodes, Melony has slept over at the Castle instead of her apartment, so it's not out of the question. Plus, I could never imagine 4 rejecting them a place to stay if they need it. Once again, their Castle. (However.... *stares DIRECTLY at the unfinished 2nd floor*)

If it wasn't obvious already, I LOVE cleaning, and I wouldn't mind sitting through Luigi's presentation frfr. (And the episode had to be trash, yea ik.) And about the scene with 3 & Mario in the kitchen, I actually wanted to bring in a bit of behind-the-scenes from editor Star:

"Got a little surprise for SMG4 fans again! The extended version of my 1st scene for today's vid: Mario Cleans The House!" (clip shown below) — Star

I always loved the behind-the-scenes stuff and sharing it with you guys :) It kinda goes hand-in-hand with the moment 3 wanting to go back to his clean cafe. speaking of, I MISS THE CAFE SO BAD.

Speaking of that scene, it was indeed a funny bit of 3's plan of shoving a bunch of spoiled food into Mario ADJL;'LJK. Not the best plan there, bud. (and yea, I'm allowed to say is as someone who's friend-shaped 😊↕️)

I do love the callback to the infestation episode for Bob, I appreciate that, idk how to describe it. And I'm not sure if the Team intended this or not, but I also loved the subtle callback to Western Spaghetti and Meggy's attachment to certain materialistic things bc of her past, I totally get it. And her eventually throwing the chopsticks to the bin, I actually didn't mind it.

Yall might come at me with pitchforks but it was kinda similar to how 4 was in the Mario PC episode. 4 was given a choice to accept a deal to save his past work, and he immediately declined. In some way, he learned from IGBP, not fully but it's a big step in the right direction. Same here with Meggy, she was very attached to those chopsticks bc, like she said, they've been through a lot. Like her beanie given by Wren. But she saw what it truly meant and decided to move on, dropping the sticks in there. Again, a step.

Then, there's that door. What a coincidence that as soon as 4 said "where are we supposed to put [the trash]", the door is right there in the background. Hmmmmmmmmmm, istg the Team had this door out to get me. TEASING US. *shakes vengeful fist* we shall meet again, my mortal nemesis….....

And now, probably the whole reason yall are here for, let's talk about 4:

It is absolutely insane that the Team did that! Not just ptsd anymore, they outright say it in the show, "hey, remember when this happened to you?" I still can't wrap my head around it. Regardless, I did feel SO bad for 4. ik how Swag is, gotta love him, but BUDDY, YOU CAN'T SAY THAT! :(

4's already suppressing his trauma and guilt from IGBP. He blames himself for the whole incident when he was possessed for most of it, he lost his home the first time. Ofc he's terrified of it happening again, of losing his home the second time. Honestly, If I were him, I would've pushed all the trash and everyone out the door, and then curled up in my bed for the rest of the day. With everything he went through, I wouldn't be able to handle it. "oh, I can just nuke it like I did in the most traumatic moment of or life, it's a lost cause" <- you would see me on the news. And ofc he wouldn't do what I would do, he's 4.

He somehow held back, still doing everything he could to save it. And y'know what would make it worse, if this was the first time 4 learned that the Crew was willing to nuke the Castle while 4 and the rescue trio were still in there. Not that I blame the Crew, it was possible for the red monster to spread across the kingdom and put everyone in danger. But it is a bit messed up that the Crew didn't warn them to get out of there before they did the act. idk what to think man..... regardless, that's a post for another day.

Back to the topic, 4 definitely belongs on my "saviors in blue" list. And ofc, adding it in as more proof to the horus eye/glitch segment of my theory:

His left eye is in the frame, the true side of him. Unlike in WOTFI 2024, it was with his right (his perfectionism side) when Puzzles brought back that ptsd the first time. One where he was scared of the incident happening again, the other's a reminder that he was the "cause" of it happening.

Now there has been some talk about about how his perfectionist side slipping through the cracks and seeming like he learned nothing out of IGBP. I suppose I should bring in my thoughts into this (yea, you can get your pitchfork ready 😔). I do love when 4's guilt and trauma come back in moments like these, and as co-ceo of the goop!4 theory, I can appreciate it with a "HELL YEAH".

The in-universe explanation I can provide of his perfectionism is that he's a content creator. All he wants is to entertain people and make them happy, ofc he wants to deliver the best of his work out there. Also, as a Meme Guardian, it's a part of him and his duties. But realistically, it's sometimes like that. As someone dealing with ptsd myself, those old habits/traits that caused the incident slip through in what we do. The least we want is for that incident to happen again, we'd go through extreme panic if we're remotely close to it, but we sometimes do said traits unintentionally.

For a person like 4, who has been suppressing all of it for a long time, it would be harder for him to recognize them immediately. And like in the Mario PC Virus episode, that was very paralleled to IGBP, 4 didn't have the same hesitation. Sure, he wasn't dealing with a life there, but he did learn. Up to now, like in the past arc, he prioritized his friends more than anything. Even if he was injured. It's understandable why he's dealing with his ptsd in an unhealthy way, even if it isn't right. I can see why people may have fixed feelings about it, but those are my thoughts.

The not in-universe explanation is the change of writers. Not that it should be an excuse but it's hard to pick up the pieces, as someone who works in production.

*sigh * yea, if you want to push me down the stairs, you can 😔 /lh

Well, that's all for me, folks! Sorry it took so long to get this out haha. I knew some of you were looking forward to my reaction, especially bc of 4, but it's sweet to know that you guys care what I think, so thanks for sticking by me 💙 It's good to see the silly episodes again after a month of theorizing. Anyway, I'll catch you on the next one and remember: numbers always go first!

.....the Team really wants me to finish the goop!4 theory website, don't they. /silly

[na0koz]

hiii i was wondering if you could write about toxic vi from arcane? <3

cw: mention of sex, ghosting, alcohol, arguing, wall punching, gaslighting, vi is just mean

hell yeah

i don’t think vi would be toxic in the way that i write jinx, like she wouldn’t be completely psychotic and obsessed, like she just wouldn’t be the best girlfriend, y’know.

she’d be veryyyy possessive but still refuses to put a label on your relationship. i don’t think she likes committing like that. but if she catches wind of someone else flirting with you, or you flirting with someone else then she will be having words. beats up the other person and maybe yells at you too.

she is so so mean. uses personal stuff you’ve told her against you all the time, purposefully to hurt you. she knows how to get under your skin and make you cry and she uses that skill to her advantage.

if you argue then she’ll storm off and come back a couple days later, sweet talking you trying to get you back while you stare at her with your arms folded over your chest. “please princess, you’re the only person i wanna be with, i need you.” kinda shit.

she does ghost you a lot though. she’s not reallyyyy sure how to do relationships ‘properly’ so she thinks it’s fine to disappear for a days or weeks and come back like nothing happened just because she ‘wasn’t feeling like a relationship’.

really fucks with your head a lot. acts like she didn’t say stuff when she definitely did. called you a slut once for pretty much no reason and then when you brought it up in a later argument, where she said you were “being stupid, baby” and she’d never say that about you because she loves you.

like i said earlier, she’s different to jinx in how they’re toxic. i guess the way to describe it would be that vi is actively toxic, because she argues and ghosts you and all that bs, while jinx is like secretly obsessed and crazy about you.

she never tells you anything. you probably started seeing each other as a result of a one night stand, so there wasn’t any like talking stage beforehand. she picked you up from a club and thought she wouldn’t mind seeing you again after she’d fucked you. but you guys barely talk properly, if you do then it’s you talking and her half-listening. you don’t know anything about her family or anything like that, nothing about her past.

she’s not that physical when she’s angry, but she has been and will be if she gets worked up enough. punches walls for sure. her apartment is so messy from her punching shit and throwing stuff. in a particularly messy argument you said something that just really rubbed her the wrong way. she punched the wall by your head as a result and made you cry. cue the sickly sweet, yet empty, comforts and apologies.

once ran into someone she knew while you were on a ‘date’ (going to a bar, making out in an alleyway, then fucking at her apartment), and introduced you as her girlfriend. you asked her about it, a smile on your face as you thought she had finally decided she wanted to seal the deal with you. she then burst your bubble saying that she “kind of had to” call you her girlfriend because you’re definitely more than friends, but you are not her girlfriend. she makes that very clear.

she did try to do something for your birthday, (doesn’t give a fuck about anniversaries) not very well though. she missed it by a couple of days and probably only knew about it from hearing it from a friend of yours. showed up to your door with some kind of ugly wilted flowers and a bottle of whiskey. she may have already popped the cork of the bottle and had some on her way.

her answer to everything is just sex, unfortunately. her idea of making up after an argument is just fucking you to make to forget how horrible she is, rather than actually apologising and talking with you.

basically, she fucks with you so bad, your friends hate her, you hate her (sometimes), she acts like she hates you but truthfully she is just terrified but the feeling that you give her. she is evil.

[miwiheroes]

Dropping Byler Evidence Every (Other) Day Until Season 5

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Day 23: Airport Hug(s) . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

I haven't done one of these in a little bit because I'm just getting moved back in at university but I'm glad to be back! This time, we are looking over Mike and El's airport hug vs. Mike and Will's.

These two scenes are extremely different. It is clear which one the writers and directors gave more importance. AKA which one is supposed to be the main focal point of the scene. If you think that the meeting scene in the airport is supposed to be all about Mil*ven and how cute their relationship is, I'm sorry but you are not watching the same show as I am. The airport hug between Mike and El and the airport 'hug' between Mike and Will are supposed to convey these messages:

Something is wrong with Mike and El's relationship and they are trying to push it down, meaning it will come to the surface later.

It has something to do with the way Mike's acting.

Something has changed internally within Mike between Season 3 and Season 4.

This something is to do with Will.

You are supposed to notice Mike's actions towards Will more than his actions towards El.

This is how I will structure this ESSAY ASS POST

Number One:

Something is wrong with Mike and El's relationship. It may not seem this way from the beginning, in fact, it seems very much like they are back to the way they used to be at the beginning of S3, apart from the making out- um yeah, so it all seems well. But that's the thing.

Developed relationships with depth, relationships that the audience need to crave for, do not get presented in this super cutesy, teenager-y love way. Unless there are other stakes. In Stranger Things, it is apparent to us that there is always something off when characters seem Too Happy. Something will go wrong, things won't stay the same as they were at the beginning of the Season. I really don't know how to describe it, but basically what I'm saying is, even in their cute moments, the audience needs to sense that something is off. Even if it's very minute.

The kiss is cute. But that's all it is. There are no stakes behind it, nothing bad has happened yet, which is why an audience who likes the couple already may feel happy with it. But a GA may be able to sense that this is unlike other kisses or meetings in ST. The kiss is not after a fight, the kiss is not after a long time of pining, the kiss is not an 'i can't lose you' kiss, the kiss is not a 'relief after a long time of fighting through something' kiss. It's just a kiss.

You may be thinking this is a bit harsh, but the GA also know another thing. El is lying to Mike. Her letter foreshadows problems for their relationship instantly.

From her letter, we know that she is lying about having a good time at school and in California. The audience may then believe that there must be something wrong with their relationship if she feels the need to lie. Especially El, the one who always says 'Friends don't lie' and got annoyed at Mike lying last season.

So this kiss isn't supposed to be cute. It's supposed to be tense. Because we are supposed to know that she's lying to him, and narratively, the truth always gets revealed.

Therefore, the audience is supposed to take away from this interaction not that Mike and El are a cute couple, but that El is trying to hide stuff for a reason.

And the audience quickly gets their reason why:

Number Two:

The reason why El's been so weird with Mike, the question that is ringing around in the audience's head get's half-answered with the next sequence.

The audience should know that something is wrong based on the way that the happy music suddenly shifts to something far more morose, and El looks hesitant before faking a smile. JUST as she fakes her happiness in her letters.

Therefore, the audience sees it is somehow Mike's fault she feels the need to act this way. So far, we have ticked off two problems in their relationship: El is lying to Mike, and El seems upset at the unfeeling note Mike made. These must be linked together.

I also think that the audience see that it is signed in such an unfeeling way, despite the kiss. This means that the kiss at the beginning no longer seems genuine at all. So obviously, the audience must be wondering where this is all coming from , and why Mike is upsetting El.

Number Three:

Something has changed internally within Mike. The time between Season 3 and Season 4 has drastically changed Mike's actions towards both El and Will. We know that suddenly Mike is being unfeeling towards her in his note, meaning that the rest of his interactions don't seem as genuine to the audience. This may be a different view they had from Season 3.

They have just been introduced to a change in El's behaviour towards Mike (she now lies to him), meaning there must have been a change in Mike's behaviour to have caused this. And this is all internal between seasons:

What changed?

Now, we should get the answer when we look back at the end of Season 3. Mike looks back at Will's house. He hugs his mom like he's numb and just realised something huge. The monologue over the top keeps saying how he doesn't 'want things to change'.

Later, in the apology scene in Will's room, we find out that Mike was afraid of losing Will, which is why he got mad at Will seeming standoffish.

SO WE GET THIS SCENE WHERE WE ARE INTRODUCED TO MIKE BEING SUPER WEIRD WITH EL AND THIS IS ODD SO HE MUST HAVE CHANGED AND THEN HE ACTS WEIRD WITH WILL SO IT ALL POINTS TO.........

Number Four:

The reason why he has changed with El is because of Will. The reason why he seems so unfeeling towards El yet so disingenuous and unlike himself is all because of Will. The way he acts, the way he writes notes, it all boils down to this moment in the scene.

Will is reason he's nervous. Will is the reason things have shifted.

If something has changed internally within Mike to clearly act differently enough with El to make her lie to him, AND something to make him act weird with Will, then they must be linked together.

Besides, if we want to go the super obvious, on the face of it analysis - Mike is simply nervous because his feelings have been realised. He doesn't want to let them show so he can keep up this disingenuous relationship with El. He just wants to seem normal. It all adds up.

Harking back to El's letter, she mentioned one thing about Will, and that was that he was painting something for a girl that he had never told Mike about. And Mike acts standoffish about the painting when Will confirms that it probably isn't for him. It's clear as day - he's nervous to keep up this facade, he's jealous that Will's not making paintings for him, and he's been scared of losing Will (confirmed later on).

I mean, this might be all well and fine. Mike might not be having an impactful scene with Will, after all--

OKAY I CAN'T EVEN TYPE IT OMG ONTO THE NEXT POINT

Number Five:

Mike's big problem has to boil down to Will. This is proven by the fact that we are supposed to focus on this interaction far more than his interaction with El.

First of all, it is important to note that the directors of the show are intentional with where they place extras during a scene. They have free will, and we an see their choices being made during the airport reunion.

In the first and last Milkvan kissing scene, the camera is focused on them, yes, but it is very busy. Watch the shippers try to edit this scene, the duffers really said. I mean, it was so hard to take a screenshot of them without a person in the way of the camera. This is not by accident.

Mike is wearing a visor, he's holding a bag so he can barely hug her, he's also wearing sunglasses inside?? You can't see his facial expression, making this seem even more disingenuous. Again, people are moving in front of the camera, it's very very busy.

It's supposed to be a little overwhelming. That is not a coincidence, they aren't filming in an actual busy airport. So so many extras walk in front of them during the whole scene, not just the kiss, but while they are speaking as well.

Compared to the scene with Will...

No extras pass in front of them, the camera is closed in on their facial expressions, making them very clear without obstruction what they are feeling. This tells the audience to look quickly! This is important!

This is why the main takeaway from this scene is not at all about how 'cute' Mil*ven are. It is supposed to remind you of the problems in Mike and El's relationship, introduce that Mike has changed between S3 and S4, making him seem disingenuous and wanting to seem 'normal'. And that this is all because of something to do with Will.

And based on the clues that he's repressing a lot of his emotions all of a sudden, he's heard that Will is painting for someone else, he's being unfeeling toward El because of Will for some reason..... Mike's problem is that he is trying to deny or repress feelings for Will.

Atp it seems too obvious to post.

[fuckitupfelix]

hai… its me again BUT I HAVE ANOTHER SCENARIO IDEA ALSO IMMSORRY AHOUT MY OTHER ASK AUGHH IT WAS RIGHT IN UR RULES DUDE BUT BUT MY IDEA IS SCENARIO OF WHICHEVER HQ CHARACTER OF UR CHOOSING WITH AN S/O WHO HAS REALLY BAD MUSCLE STRAIN FROM PRACTISING VOLLEYBALL BUT REFUSE TO REST AND GAGAGAGA :3

DONT WORRY ABOUT IT BRO ITS ALL GOOD!!! IM GONNA COOK WITH THIS ONE TO MAKE UP FOR IT 🙏🙏 actually writing now hope this doesn't turn out bad..

hit it til it breaks...?

iwaizumi hajime x male reader

word count: 1k

iwaizumi's noticed that his boyfriend, seijoh's libero, hasn't been doing his best.

FEM ALIGNED DNI

iwaizumi has seen what pushing yourself past your limits can do to you. he's seen how oikawa always strived to be the best he could, sometimes pushing himself beyond exhaustion. it takes a huge toll on your body, so iwa promised himself he'd take care of himself, and it's not exactly a secret. he pushed everyone to do the same.

so it surprised iwaizumi when he noticed (name) acting different in the past few weeks. they were all very subtle changes; he would buy coffee in the morning more often, was a bit slower with receives, and a little more tired than he usually used to be.

he was pushing himself.

that's what iwaizumi thought initially. he's seen the signs in oikawa enough times to know the aftermath of straining yourself and making your body work overtime. he decides to wait a bit, see if (name) would mention anything by himself. he didn't.

"iwaaaa," (name) called, leaning over iwaizumi's desk. "can i borrow your homework answers?"

iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at that. "you didn't get time finish it last night?" he asked, pulling out the papers. he noticed his boyfriend's hesitation before he took the papers.

"nah, only got through half of it before i went to bed. my mom had me run errands after school. y'know, groceries 'n stuff." (name) said causally. he hunched over iwaizumi's desk to quickly write down the rest of his answers before passing the worksheets back to him. "thanks!"

"yeah, no problem. . . by the way—" but (name) had left before he could ask his question.

later that day, during practice, the team was doing a spiking drill. (name)'s receives were all flawless, but iwaizumi noticed the slight stiffness of his movements. how he grit his teeth for a spike that wasn't particularly hard to get. how his feet left the ground half a second too late. how his breathing grew ragged faster than usual.

'maybe im overthinking things,' and so he shook the thoughts away. he's used to having to deal with oikawa's bullshit. maybe its made him paranoid.

he went to spike, moving fluidly. the ball went a bit of a distance away from (name)'s direction— almost halfway across the court— but he still went for it. that's when it happened.

(name) reached, pushing himself to make contact with the ball, willing himself to. and he did. he sent it up nicely— a beautiful arc straight to the net. but his body had already exhausted itself. it was too much. his face contorted in pain as he felt his leg spasm. his body slammed against the floor, his shoulder connecting with the wood panels in an odd way. his body tumbled over itself like a ragdoll. (name) just laid there.

iwaizumi darted over to (name), eyes blown wide with panic. as gently as he could, he grabbed his shoulders, lifting him up. his grip was still tight.

"(name)? (name), are you okay?" he asked, sweat dripping from his forehead onto (name).

(name)'s eyes opened, face morphing into a frown. "yeah, shit. . . sorry," he mumbled. he tried to push himself to stand, but let out a sharp groan, falling back down to the floor.

the sound of shoes squeaking against the gym floors was faded as (name) and iwaizumi sat together in the club room. (name)'s leg was propped up on one of the chairs.

'how did this happen?'

sure, (name) was pushing himself more than usual, but that was because the inter-high preliminaries were right around the corner! he had to do his best so the team could go to nationals!

"hey." iwaizumi's voice drew (name) out of his thoughts. ". . . why didn't you stop?" he asked.

". . .what?"

"you were pushing yourself too hard, your body couldn't keep up, and now you can barely move your legs. why didn't you take a break?"

(name) tensed up at iwa's words. he frowned. "because i needed to do better. i needed more practice. i need to be better—"

"is this really better to you?" iwaizumi cut him off. (name) flinched at the volume. iwaizumi was pissed. "seriously, tell me. do you think pushing yourself this far helping anyone? we all need practice, but without breaks, you're doing more harm than good!"

"i know that!" (name) snaps. he glared down at the floor. his head was spinning and his legs were throbbing and he could feel his face grow hot, tears brimming in his eyes.

"i know it was stupid, i know i should have paid attention, i'm sorry. i just wanted us to do better! i wanted us to win." (name) managed. god, he knew he sounded pathetic, the way his throat closed up on him, making him sound all whiney. he rubbed the tears away with the back of his hands, his face scrunched up.

iwaizumi wasn't expecting that. he walks over, sitting next to his boyfriend. he wraps an arm around his shoulder, bringing (name) in to rest his head on his chest.

"hey, hey, it's okay," iwaizumi mumbled. he wasn't great at comforting people. he ran his hand along (name)'s back, rubbing circles. "c'mon. can you stand properly? i'm taking you home."

"what? come on, iwa, just give me a minute, i-i can make it for the rest of practice—"

"(name)." iwaizumi said sternly. "what you need is rest. you don't need to overexert your body anymore. and, you're banned from any type of practice until you get better." he adds.

"what?" (name) sputtered. "that's not fair!"

"of course it is, dumbass!" iwaizumi huffed, crossing his arms. "if you try to play volleyball injured, it'll get worse and take longer to heal. seriously. i don't like seeing you hurt," he adds, quieter that time.

a small smile grew on (name)'s face at that. "fine, but only cause i don't want you worrying," he chuckled. he leaned over to plant a small kiss on iwaizumi's cheek.

". . . okay, now help me up? please?"

AAAAJFHHH i hope that was okay (⁠>⁠▂⁠<⁠)!!! it was kind of angsty idk if you wanted that. . . lmk if i need to fix anything!!! requests are still open btw!!

divider by @/plutism !!