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catcze · 3 months ago

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#MULTI — The excuse he uses to hold your hand wc: 0.7 fluff, teasing, established relationship, hand holding !! — How's he gonna get out of this one?

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

It catches you by surprise— where you had both just been walking along, enjoying the atmosphere, the touch of his fingers weaving between yours is something you hadn't been expecting.

It wasn't unwelcome, though. Far from it.

The tangent you had been rambling on about trails away like leaves in the wind as you blink down at the hand that gasps yours securely. Beside you, he carries on as if there were no such change, even having the gall to raise his eyebrow when he notices you falling silent.

"You were saying?" he asks, as if to prompt you back into your ramble, but you practically bulldoze over his faux nonchalance by squeezing his hand and waving it between you two.

"Oh, look at you, being so forward," you tease, swinging your hands back and forth. "I'm not at all complaining, but, well, I didn't think you'd be so bold."

He huffs at you a bit, eyes narrowed in an expression that you'd dare say is petulant. Maybe even flustered. The first thing out of his mouth is—

"It looked like you wanted to hold hands. I'm just saving you the trouble of asking." He says, gaze not meeting your own, but hand still firmly holding yours. You have to fight back an amused smile.

When you teasingly try to let your hand slip out from his, relaxing your grip, his own immediately tightens. His narrowed, accusatory gaze snaps to yours so fast that for a second you worry he might injure his neck.

"Uh huh, you keep telling yourself that," you tease, sidling up close enough that you can nudge him with your shoulder.

It's cute, you think, how he immediately leans closer to you when you come near. Like he's not even aware he does it, like his body just wants to be closer to you. When he realizes what happened, there's a moment where his eyes widen— then his gaze is trained on the path in front, decidedly not making eye contact. Cute, you think again.

"i like holding hands with you, you know" you tell him tenderly, quietly— a sweet secret just between the two of you. You squeeze his hand and, unhesitatingly, he squeezes back. "I wouldn't mind doing it more often."

And oh, he hopes you don't notice the heat to his cheeks, and the darkening of the tips to his ears. Hopes you don't notice the quirk to the edges of his lips that he just. can't. keep. down. Hopes you don't make out how damn pleased he sounds when he says, "If that's what you want," knowing that it's exactly what he wants, too.

— Scaramouche / Wanderer, Xiao, Cyno, Boothill, Dr. Ratio, Alhaitham

"Why? Am I not allowed to?" Comes his teasing response, making you roll your eyes.

"You know that's not what I meant," you grumble, playfully punching his arm, knowing that you did little to no actual damage. Still, he pretends to wince and rub the area you hit, grimacing.

"No need to get violent," he says, "You're hurting my feelings, love."

"You're awful," you tell him.

"And yet you've still yet to let go of my hand," he reminds you all-too-happily, raising said hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

At the gesture, a tingle runs up your spine and butterflies come to life in your stomach— you wonder if he can hear the frantic pulse in your wrist, if he can see the way you cover up how damn flustered you are with a scowl.

You hate hate hate the way he's turned the tables on you— how he's managed to turn what was supposed to be you teasing him into him turning you into a gooey mess yet again. And yet...

"Oh shut up and keep walking," you say in defeat, not able to look him in the eye. You might just combust on the spot if you do.

He sounds all too pleased as he lets your hands drop between you two, fingers still weaved together, swinging your joint hands easily to the breeze.

There's a smile to his voice when he says— "Whatever you say, beloved."

— Wriothesley, Jing Yuan, Argenti, Childe, Ayato, Kazuha, Lyney

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pleasureable · 4 days ago

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Love Potions

Summary - Thanos was used to having girls throw themselves at him. As he got older, the feeling of simply using somebody for self-gratification became exhilarating for him. He never thought a girl could have him in a chokehold until he met you, pink haired and all.

Warnings - Mentions of weed, reader has pink hair again because yes, high school au, kinda short (2k word count, was too exhausted to make it any longer please forgive me), ooc thanos once again? please excuse any grammatical errors, not really proofread

A/N - Might be my last long piece on here for a little, I'll probably write some drabbles or head cannons here and there, though! Once again, thank you so much for all the love on Pink Goes Well with Purple, it warms my heart so much every time I see all the engagement on it.

Thanos never took anything, or anyone, seriously. Girls had always found him attractive, and halfway through his 7th-grade year, he realized he liked female attention. He had never genuinely liked someone, though. Every girl he decided to "pursue" was either too clingy or as he would put it, "too much of a cock-drunk bitch".

Knowing exactly how to play the game, he approached all his intended targets with feigned interest and used their obvious attraction to him to his advantage. He would stick around for a few days pretending to care about their likes and interests, then dump them like toxic waste once he got them into his bed. He loved how these girls would completely submit themselves to him, he loved how he could openly toy with them yet still have them begging for his love and affection.

Thanos loved the power.

He had woken up to his phone buzzing from its lying position on his nightstand. "20+ unread messages from Lindsey", the notification read. "Hop off my fuckin' dick, bitch" he mumbled in his groggy, half-awake state. He had gone to some random house party with his buddies the night before, all in hopes of getting totally shit-faced and finding some bimbo who would be willing to help him get his dick wet.

To his annoyance, friends of Lindsey's had taken candid photos of him swapping spit with some chick in a corner. He didn't care about Lindsey's feelings; he just didn't want to deal with her inevitable tantrum once she was informed of his actions. He was getting ready to dump her anyway as she was probably the clingiest of the girls Thanos had been with. Always going off on jealousy-fueled tangents regarding his flirty attitude toward other girls, always begging for him to "change his ways for her". Ha, in your fucking dreams.

Arriving at school, he was immediately greeted with the sight of her tear-stained face, "What the fuck were you doing last night, Thanos?! I saw you kissing some fucking bitch at that party last night!" She wept, though it clearly wasn't phasing him. Thanos wore a stone-cold expression as he walked through the halls of the high school with Lindsey hot on his trail. He spotted his history class and walked in, leaving her behind, the door closing firmly in her face.

The first few minutes of class went by in a blur, usual rambling from his teacher and stupid antics from his friends give a monotonous tone to his already shitty day.

Without warning, the classroom door swings open.

You walk in, clad in your black Aeropostale tracksuit, pink hair lightly curled with slightly red-rimmed glassy eyes. Students turn to look at you, some wearing an expression reminiscent of admiration. "Oh! You must be Y/N", the teacher said. "Have a seat wherever, we were just getting ready to start class."

He couldn't help but check you out. To him, you were quite possibly the most beautiful, angel-like thing he had ever laid eyes upon. His eyes scanned you up and down, staring at the way your tits looked squeezed into your jacket, a small diamond-studded necklace with your initial resting perfectly between them. Miraculously, you opted to sit in the empty seat right in front of him. The smell of sweet perfume and hint of weed that clung to you was intoxicating, filling his nostrils and leaving him entranced.

You shattered Thanos' cocky facade in an instant, leaving his mind a complete blank. The fact that he felt a way no other person had ever made him feel before didn't go unnoticed by him, and he wasn't so sure he hated it. The chance to talk to you presented itself, and he immediately began racking his brain to figure out what to say; in the end, he settled on asking for something simple: a pencil.

"Hey señorita, you got a pencil I could borrow?" He asked. You turned your head and began to look at him over your shoulder, his breath hitched. Your eyes were breathtaking, everything about you was perfect. You pulled a pencil from the pocket of your sweatpants and handed it to him, your pretty manicured nails catching his eye. "You can keep it." You spoke, voice as soft as silk. The pink, glitter-ridden Hello Kitty pencil you handed him made him crack a smile, you were adorable.

You had just met him but even so, Thanos was already feigning for you. He wanted you, wanted to know what those pretty pink lips of yours taste like.

Class went by in a flash, the only thing Thanos recalled from the past hour was him admiring your curves through the openings on the back of the school chair. Once the bell rang, everyone began to exit the room. You left the classroom so swiftly that it was almost ghost-like, Thanos scrambled to leave as quickly as you did, not wanting to let you out of his sight. Just as he was about to follow you through the halls, his buddy caught up to him and grabbed onto his shoulder. "Yo T, that new girl? Fuckin' hot shit." His friend Nam-Gyu spoke. "Back off dude, I call dibs." Thanos said, jealousy apparent in his voice.

“What? Since when do we call dibs on girls?” Nam-gyu responded, his face twisting in confusion. Thanos never cared about girls enough to publicly claim them as his, but you were different. He could feel it.”Since now, man. She’s fuckin’ perfect, I don’t know what it is about her.” Thanos said, just the thought of you was already clouding up his thoughts in the best way possible. Nam-Gyu realized his friend was serious, he’d never seen Thanos act this way over anyone. As surprised as he was at his friend’s sudden new attitude, Nam-Gyu was still a tad bit annoyed he couldn’t have a piece of you. You were hot shit, after all. “Whatever, man.” Nam-Gyu huffed.

The last thing Thanos really remembered from today was going into the boys bathroom to hide from Lindsey (and to smoke some weed), as she was still currently hunting him down like some deranged serial killer. He hadn’t seen much of you since history class, though he could probably blame that on the blunt he had hit. He remembered seeing slight flashes of pink throughout the day, but that’s about it. He kept a mental image of the way you looked at him when he asked for that pencil, your pretty, doe eyes were unforgettable.

The next morning, for the first time in a very long time, Thanos felt like he had something to look forward to that day. Knowing he got to see you again was enough for him to get out of bed with the energy mimicking that of a little kid on an intense sugar-high.

Once at school, he made b-lined for his history class. He was the very first student there but he didn’t care, all he cared about was getting to see that certain pink-haired angel walk in once again. As students began to pile into the class, he finally caught a glimpse of you. Your white lace camisole gave you an ethereal glow, complemented by the delicate, gold heart-shaped locket around your neck. Your fitted jeans accentuate your curves, and the subtle shine of your belly piercing added a touch of allure. Just as Thanos felt like you couldn’t get any better.

Though, for obvious reasons, Thanos wasn’t the only boy who had his eye on you. Once you had sat down, his jaw began to tighten when he noticed Myung-Gi practically having a staring contest with your body. His pre-existing hatred for him only grew the longer Myung-Gi’s eyes lingered on you, a little green monster marking its territory inside of him.

Thanos reached out his hand to tap your shoulder. “Hey, you got another pencil I could borrow?” he asked, a sheep-ish grin making its way onto his face. He realized the stupidity of his question but deep down, he just wanted to get a one-up on Myung-Gi. His breath hitched once more as you turned around to look at him. “What happened to the one I gave you yesterday? Lost it already?” You asked, “Lost? Nah, it’s just playing hard to get.” His dumb joke made you laugh a little, and to him, it was like pure music to his ears.

“Well if I give you another one will you lose it?” The flirty undertones of the conversation had begun making themselves apparent. While Thanos was pretty appealing, it was clear he was the kind of guy you wouldn’t necessarily want to be romantically involved with. Just because you wouldn’t date him didn’t mean you couldn’t have your fun with him, though. “If losing it means I get to talk to you again, then no promises, beautiful.” Thanos playfully replied, topping his sentence off with a wink. Cute, you thought. “Well then in that case, here you go, handsome.” You handed him another pencil, My Melody themed this time.

You two had spent the rest of the class period chatting, with the occasional scolding from your teacher for laughing just a little too loud. Once the bell had rang, Thanos stopped you in your tracks before you could exit the classroom, “Why don’t you give me your number so that we can hangout sometime, beautiful?” He asked. For maybe the first time in his life, Thanos The Great feared rejection. He had always thought of himself quite highly, but you were greater than every god or goddess that had ever lived. He didn’t want to mess this up.

You smiled. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a pink gel pen and swiftly wrote your digits down on the soft skin of his hand, to his relief. “Send me a text soon, grape jelly.” You shot him a playful glance before turning around and vanishing into the sea of people flooding the hallway. For a moment, he just stood there, admiring the neatly written numbers on his hand, his heart full.

Upon his arrival home, Thanos immediately ran up to his room. Throwing himself onto his bed, his mind began to ponder on what to text you. His desperate need to have you was becoming unbearable for him, he needed more than just a conversation to fill the you-shaped hole in his heart. Just as his mind felt as if it was continuously falling into a seemingly endless hole of contemplation, his phone buzzed, signifying the arrival of a text. “You down to get high, grape jelly?” The text read, the stupid (but cute) nickname confirming your identity to him. It was as if his fingers had a mind of their own because in an instant, they began typing up a reply.

“Of course, sweet thing. Where are we meeting?”

“Meet me at the park near school in an hour.” You replied.

Excitement was all that was running through Thanos’s head at the thought of spending alone time with you. You were completely and utterly heaven sent.

He began to blast music while laying on his bed, just staring at the ceiling in an attempt to pass time. He continued to fantasize about you, everything about you. Your angelic facial features, your body, your voice. The way you looked at him for the first time. He hadn’t known you for even a week, yet already you were making him feel things that girls he’d known for years had never even come close to making him feel.

Laying there, in his current state of rumination, Thanos realized this was the closest he had ever come to feeling peace in a very long time.

When enough time had passed, he snapped out of his thought-induced daze and began to make his way downstairs. Being careful not to wake his parents up, he unlocked the backdoor to his house and shut it behind him, starting to make his way to the designated meet up spot. As soon as he started approaching the park, he noticed a silhouette sitting down at a dimly-lit bench. Getting closer, he recognized the unusually colored hair.

“Hey, beautiful.” He called out. You looked up from your phone screen to see that now-familiar purple headed man. “Hi.” You responded, a gentle smile taking its place on your face. You passed Thanos the already lit joint in your hand once he took a seat on the bench next to you. He took a hit, paused briefly as the smoke lingered in his lungs, then exhaled, letting the thick cloud roll from his mouth. Taking turns passing the joint amongst yourselves, a peaceful ambience fell upon you both. A sense of calm wrapped around your mind, pushing away the slight nerves you were previously feeling caused by the idea of being alone with Thanos. “I like you, Thanos.” You spoke, the marijuana giving you the courage to speak your mind freely.

“I’ve had my eye on you ever since you got here, beautiful. You’re breathtaking.” He responded. You turned to look at him, tilting your head slightly. “So that’s what the flirty attitude was about?” Giggling, it was all starting to make sense to you. “Of course. Just look at you.” He began to scoot closer, maintaining eye contact. Your pretty, red-rimmed eyes looking up at him made him smile. The sense of euphoria was almost palpable, as if the air itself buzzed with an electric warmth, wrapping you both in a blanket of bliss and exuding a feeling of weightlessness.

Thanos had gotten so close to the point where the tips of your noses were touching. Your current situation felt like a dream, a dream which you didn’t want to wake up from. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, heart racing as the air between you seemed to grow thicker, filled with an unspoken sexual tension. “K-kiss me, please.” You whispered, the need to feel his mouth on yours becoming hard to endure. He pressed his lips to yours, his breath warm against your skin. The kiss deepened, his lips parting slightly to explore yours slowly, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand slid to the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer, the intensity building with every second that passed.

As you pulled away, both of you were left breathless, your lips tingling and a bit swollen from the intensity of the kiss, cheeks flushed. “You’re good at kissing,” you said, feeling a bit dizzy from the lip-locking. “I could say the same thing about you, pretty girl.”

You ignited a fire within Thanos, and its cause was inexplicable. Maybe it was your friendly and gentle nature that drew him to you, but whatever the case was, you made him want to be better. You had him under a love potion, and he wasn’t planning on breaking the spell anytime soon.

#thanos x reader #thanos #t.o.p #squid game x reader #squid game 2 #choi su bong x reader #choi seunghyun #choi su bong #squid game #choi seunghyun x reader

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hiraethminds · 2 months ago

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This is a tangent, I'm here to entertain with needless rambling

The deep rooted hatred for taco I see in the II community genuinely concerns me. Especially since those people tend to be Mephone "apologists"(For lack of a better word, I love Mephone don't get me wrong) despite how taco is the "active" side of the coin to his "passive". The connections between them are there trust me Im connecting the dots. Ive connected them.

I understand that she's done bad things, but blaming her for her shortcomings when she doesn't and never had the same support group to change as Mephone did makes me a little ehh.. Getting upset because Microphone showed her support in the new episodes simply because you don't like the ship(I understand why people wouldnt but thats not an excuse to deny her anything), and because Taco doesn't know how to change yet and you refuse to see her as anything redeemable. I'm not big on shipping, thats not the point of this tangent, but Taco finally having someone to support her and help her change is a GOOD thing. Microphone was being the bigger person there, she was being mature and thoughtful because Taco clearly needs the help. The fact that people continue to deny Taco any kind of growth even if she goes about it in the wrong way makes me deeply uncomfortable. Because the moment any character does anything bad that isn't HER they don't say anything about it. She was shunned by her peers because she was playing the game and continued to 'play the game' so to speak.

Theres a deep rooted hint of misogyny in the way they treat her, but I wont yap about that you dont need to read allat.

I understand people have reasons for not liking characters! That's ok. But I've seen them actively go out of their way to harass people that DO like Taco and actively criticize enjoying her character.

They tend to take it as defending her actions. Which is not what's happening. I don't think oscommunity could handle vriska is all I'm saying.

Feel free to not answer this I just need whatever little imp is telling me to scream about it to get out. go draw a taco dis is driving me crazy

Thank you for dumping this in my inbox bigbarf200, I feel like a wise confidant.

okay so I don't interact/observe with the wider ii community (Mainly cuz i like playing with my touys without being bothered) So this information is so Interesting to me!!!

As you mentioned, the hate might stem from misogyny (and by the way, I’d love to read your essay—talk all you want, my friend!). This is a societal issue that affects every part of life.

That said, I also think some people might dislike her simply because she’s a hustler and stubborn. When she has a goal, she’ll do whatever it takes to achieve it, even if it means crossing into morally gray areas.

holding Mepad hostage > hijacking the show

lying and deceiving objects with good intentions > winning s1

seriously hurting Fan > winning Mic immunity

as you said in the greater scheme of things, she's genuinely done horrible things. But if you just accept that at face value you are missing out on such an amazing character. You have to consider her perspective and the circumstances of her birth (especially in a story like ii!!) to fully understand and come to an option on her. But I digress this is baby level analysis so ill move on.

people who think Mic being friendly towards Taco post e14 is out of character are misunderstanding Microphone as both a character and thematic device I think

that's literally the only rational reason I could think of as to why people would be mad about taco and mic being on good terms???

so yeah, these haters just sound like crazy irrational people who have a lot of pent-up emotions. crazy

anyways ty!!! I feel like I didn't have alot to add since, as stated, these people are just incredibly irrational. but its nice getting an earful of whagh the fuck the community is like. here are soem taco drawings for the occasion

#inanimate insanity #monty rambles #ii taco #if u know the song lyrics u the goat

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residentialsinyomakai · 5 months ago

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I was tagged by the wonderful @jqmon ! Thank youuuu and here I go;

Favorite color: Purple, navy blue, and neons in general! They're pretty nice and can stand against a black background.

Last song i listened to: I have just had a random playlist on right now actually, but I think its called A Mask of my Own Face by Lemon Demon!

Currently Reading: "Camouflage of Great Reknown" by RatCandy! Again AUGH i love this fic Zote is me and i am Zote. Anyways, I would go on a tangent about that but this shouldn't drone on longer than my usual ramblings wahahazzzzz Also, "To Kill a Mocking Bird" By Harper Lee.

Currently watching/rewatching: "Yokai Watch!" and "Brave the Animated Series!" I've watched the latter almost 17 times in counting now aodjoeod, it's one of my faves that rivals Yokai Watch (which is pretty impressive if you know me!)

Want to watch/rewatch: "Yo-kai Watch" (OG), "Good Omens", "The Good Place", the new TMNT show and "ROTTMNT"! Quite the list but y'know =u=.

Currently craving: What I would do for some tiramisu right now...

Coffee or Tea: Same as prev, I like em both! I do like them like my chocolate though; a little more on the bitter side!

Hobbies in Mind: Drawing (digital and traditional), singing, playing videos games, and general crafts. I'd try to make anything once ○°w°○ wwwww.

Current AU: I have an unnamed Yokai Watch AU featuring my sona/character Caspian! I like making random stuff for it but I don't have a post or anything on it yet tho aifkoeod. Not to say I haven't fleshed some of it out or come up with a plot+official refs rho! (Fun fact if you've seen some of my posts; the yokai redesigns I showed yall a while ago were mostly just an excuse to show you the AU versions wwwww^) That, and a little personal world thing with two irls that I love <33 (COUGH. @samiisams and @sketchdeath22 ..... they have amazing stuff go look ooooo......)

People who I wanna get to know better: Hope y'all don't mind the tagggggggg!

@analog-smiles @c00kietin @strange0-0storm @amf-studios @aura-bug @suppai-limes @sketchdeath22 @samiisams

Love y'all!/p (hope I didn't accidently tag anyone whose already participated auiemdhjcr...)

#Fun! I love these kinda things #THANKS FOR TAGGING ME JQMONNNNN <3 I liked reading about you you seem very cool wwwwww #I'd LOVE to know about that au btw. If you ever post about it feel free to tag me!#• nagareblog #(I mean. Not really but technicslly? Repost but that's cause you're s'posed to \(X□X;)>#●posts from yomakai #¤ summoning...#Literally this time #《cool features!》#I feel like Keita or Fumi rn like “summoning mutuals/friends 🤓☝️!” LMAO

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emmie-writes-stuff · 8 months ago

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So the new chapter is out and GOOD GOD do I have some thoughts and a lot of them don’t make a whole lot of sense but I can’t not talk about this chapter

Firstly, Kaiser looks adorable (never thought I’d say that about him outside of my head but here I am)

Secondly, holy hell my heart hurts

He didn’t deserve this, no child deserves this

The fact that he had to “go to work” and just steal

HE HAS NO SHOES his little feet have got to hurt, or they’ve completely calloused up from not wearing shoes, but even then (speaking from experience) it still hurts to walk on hot ground and rocks and other stuff on the street

Yknow, I understood him hating milk before (because milk is disgusting) but now I get it even more

What a stupid reason to get upset, imma kick this waste of space excuse for a father in the fucking face AND balls because ITS FUCKING MILK

Eat some damn fiber or somethin if you got constipation issues

Who let this absolute scum of the earth reproduce???

HES LITERALTL TWELVE YEARS OLD

All the other shit went down before he was even double digits

But dangerous situations create smart kids, and Kaiser was very smart to start saving his own money

I used to have my own stash in case I ever had to run away (long story, we’re not getting into my family issues in this post, but yeah)

At least he has shoes now, protect those feet plz, they’re what keep you upright and moving

Soooooooo are we gonna acknowledge that he treats the soccer ball the same way he’s currently treating Ness orrrrrrrr

But like, it’s nice that he has an outlet to channel his anger into that isn’t a person (at least for now smh)

It’s really interesting seeing how each of the characters came to play soccer

(Side note: but he throws the ball at a picture of a woman, could he maybe be imagining this woman as his mother?)

His mother also deserves a kick to the face if I have anything to say bout it

I have no words for this

Just, can I steal him? Please? I’ll give him a good life

Fuck the snitches, how dare they

Also, you can clearly see his ribs defined, and that hurts me

I love that he was willing to let go of everything

He was ready to start fresh with getting money, was cooperating with the police, until the soccer ball was threatened

Because that is his most valuable possession

The money doesn’t matter, but the ball is a symbol to him of something that won’t leave him or hurt him

It’s a very small sense of independence and stability in this very unstable and controlling environment

The ball is heavily implied to be the first thing he ever bought for himself, it’s what defined a key part in his life

Taking that away is like taking away his soul, his outlet, and comfort, and Kaiser just couldn’t stand for it

There’s so many more things I’m thinkin and I have way too many incoherent thoughts for tumblr, but these are the ones I was able to clear up and make sense of

This chapter hit very deep and while my past doesn’t involve much physical abuse and struggles to this level, it was hard not to empathize and relate my own experiences with abuse with the ones in this chapter

I don’t wanna get into shit, it’s not somethin I exactly wanna put out in the public, but there’s so much here that I could understand and relate to and it just made everything so much more difficult to read (in a good way I guess)

Just, GOD, why did I have to become a fan before this chapter came out???

Okay, that’s my ramble for this, bye before I start going on even more tangents

#bllk #blue lock #bllk manga spoilers #michael kaiser #bllk manga #emmie rambles #holy hell this was intense #I read this before work and had to be thinkin about it my whole shift #good god #the beef with Kaiser is gone #I’ve experienced character growth

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sh00t4th3m00n · 6 months ago

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Hot take: Mr. Puzzles receives too much blame for Western Spaghetti.

(Ramble under the cut)

"Mr. Puzzles tortured Meggy in Western Spaghetti, he made her relive her death over and over for a month!" No, he didn’t actually. That was One-Shot Wren. Sure, he gave Wren the technology and control of the simulation, but he didn't force Wren to do anything after that. You could argue that Puzzles enabled him, but Wren's actions toward Meggy and the crew afterward were all his own. Mr. Puzzles just sat back and watched. Did his comment about Meggy's "performance" in the Puzzlevision movie feel like adding insult to injury? Sure, but I think he legitimately thought he was giving her actual praise and just didn't even consider the mental/emotional ramifications of it all. Of course this doesn't excuse the things he HAS done, but Western Spaghetti specifically is on Wren.

On that same note, I actually think Mr. Puzzles isn't quite as "malicious" as we've painted him to be. He’s crafty, and he did do some pretty terrible things during the Puzzlevision arc, but they struck me as coming from a lack of understanding of the damage he was doing than actual malice. Again, it doesn’t excuse them, but it's not like he specifically wished them harm or had a grudge against them (though he probably does now).

"But he was happy to call himself a villain during the Meme Factory mini-arc." Yes, but I feel like he's taking the sort of approach where he likes to call himself a villain but doesn't really understand what that means. (The guy grew up in isolation watching TV all day; I wouldn't be surprised if his understanding of "evil" was on par with a Saturday morning cartoon villain.) And the only reason he's doing it is because he's playing the role he feels he's been assigned. After all, SMG4 was the first one to call him a "dime a dozen bad guy," but I don't think he started out wanting to be one. Which is primarily why I think he's not completely irredeemable. I mean he said it himself, he just wanted to make a good TV show.

Went on a little bit of a tangent, but thanks for listening to me pop off. XD And hey, those are just my thoughts. What do you guys think?

#mr puzzles #mr. puzzles #smg4 #smg4 mr puzzles #puzzlevision #smg4 puzzlevision #puzzlevision arc #puzzlevision movie #meggy spletzer #smg4 meggy #smg4 western spaghetti

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crooked-wasteland · 6 months ago

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I just saw your essay on the codependency of FizzOzzie and it cleared up a lot of things I've been thinking about this ship and to be honest, I myself thought it was the most healthiest ship in the whole show even better than the trash that Stoliz is but well... (btw, I was trying to scroll through tumblr to find it but can you just link it for me so I coud read it again)?

It also brings me to an idea of the possibility brung up in two fics each with different ideas:

#1 if Hazbin's events every leak in Helluva's since they're the same universe, there's a possibility that Lucifer would want to have precautionary heirs for the defense of Hell and outright force Ozzie and any other relationships with lowerclass apart since it's "not compatible with angelic DNA" or some thing, so Ozzie could in fact leave Fizz because of his status

#2 Ozzie getting tired of Fizz... Ozzie is the sin of Lust after all and Lust can be ever-changing and capricious in its nature as a sin. Ozzie’s character, embodying Lust, might lead to a fluctuating commitment level, influencing his interactions and relationships. In biblical lore, he did end up causing a lot of sinful things like fucking a human named Sarah or so I remember?

Again this is the same guy who humiliated Blitzø in Ozzie, S2 just rewrote him completely (btw, in my rewrite I'mma change him to be more evil and instead give the whole "lovey-dovey Sin" idea to Satan who is female and thinks Asmodeu's "fake-love" is like a slap in the fact to her idea of realistic and true romance)

I'd just feel like Fizz would be better off with Blitzø tbh or Striker or all in a threesome... the possibilities are endless, and why is the show making love seem too fairytale and unrealistic?! Like Blitzø shouldn't have to fuck Stolas just because he was his arranged playmate for just one day??? The show did the childhood friends trope dirty and would be better if Stoliz was a thing until mid-teens broke up for [insert reason] and reconnect but honestly, Stolas should've had his own seperate season/arc dedicared to himself if HB was an anthology show

Also the fact that Asmodeus couldn't just burn the contract, one-shot the lawyer and go on a rampage to save Fizz is just beyond me... the Sins are supposed to be these scary demon lords so why aren't they, hm?

Sorry for rambling and what do you think or want to add?

Absolutely here you go.

The consistent failure of Vivziepop is to commit to a mature story. She describes her own protagonists as "Deeply flawed but understandably traumatized people who just need love to fix them" while the villains of her shows are "irredeemable" (and women, but that's a tangent).

I mentioned before that trying to use the excuse of the setting being Hell and playing that out to the logical conclusion would end up exactly like Good Omens. The whole moral of said show being that imperfect humanity is worth saving, that life is worthy and beautiful for its own sake of existence. That is why the story of Good Omens uses the Bible, angels, and demons to tell it's story, to make that point.

Why is Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel set in Hell? What is being said by the plot, themes and story? So far we have that demons are better people than the Angels in Hazbin. That sacrifice is the only virtue worthy of redemption and thus reinforces backwards Christian ideals of penance.

Personally, I would have made Hell less absurd. Less a place of debauchery and chaos and more a mere continuation of life. We see in the Hazbin Pilot a character falls from the sky and says "I'm alive?" Before being hot by Travis' car. The point being that people just transition from one life to the next and in that they keep living life the way they always have.

My personal criticisms of the series' use of Hell is that it established this idea that people only behave if they have a god to fear. Once in Hell, there is no salvation, so why bother. It's like a Christian asking an atheist why they wouldn't commit murder if they don't believe in God. The answer is that people like order and security. People dying would seek to maintain their status quo from life. A lack of salvation wouldn't change that for them.

And frankly, I wouldn't have redemption be a thing. This story and its messages are actively devalued by the act of redeeming sinners when the Angels are just the same as them. By having Hell just be a warped continuation of life on Earth, it makes the message more universal: Life is Hell. Life is suffering in a way Hell can never hope to be. Physical anguish and torment for all eternity can never amount to the pain of the fleeting and the terror of change and uncertainty.

I would have made it impossible to be redeemed because the fact is, regardless what you believe happens after death, what we know we have is life. We fear death so much we have created salvation throughout history, the wish to keep living forever in some way. But, especially for young people, life is harder now than ever before. It's more terrifying and uncertain and cruel and uncaring.

So if life is Hell, how do you be happy?

That would have been my thesis for the show. The message underneath is all about finding happiness in the absence of salvation. Even the idea that maybe salvation is something we should reject to really feel what it means to be alive. Giving up on our deaths and seeking our own fulfillment, and in that finding community, love, and hope. To see true humanity as something selfish and kind at the same time.

That's how I would have taken the concept.

#hazbin critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical #ask and answer

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beezlub · 1 year ago

Text

a scarf won’t hide much || S.S x MC

a/n: this is entirely unproofread so excuse that. this has been rotting in my brain for the last week or so, and i needed to get it out before continuing my other works lolol. it ended up being a lot longer than i expected but eh i’m not complaining

tags: slightly suggestive themes, sebs can’t apply makeup for sh!t, overall just very fluffy. seb and mc are in their ?? 7th ?? year? something like that idk i didn’t really have a year in mind but it’s def when they’re older than 17. leander slander (i’m sorry)(not really)

wc: 1.9k

likes and reblogs greatly appreciated :)

“seb, what’s on your neck?”

shit was the first thing that came to mind when he heard your voice in his ear. luckily, the great hall was mostly empty at this time, most students not wanting to get up so early in the dead of winter, wanting to savor the remaining bits of heat embedded in their blankets. you two, on the other hand, took this to your advantage. a quiet meal together in the mornings is just what you both needed more often than not with the chaos going around the school and hamlets, you off on your broom when you didn’t have classes, and sebastian in the undercroft or library, adding books to the every-growing list he thought you’d like.

“it’s, it’s nothing, love. how’s your eggs? they’re delicious today, oh and the sausage. if you won’t eat yours, i will, along with your pumpkin juice too,” sebastian could feel his cheeks burning, prying his gaze away from your curious one. he knew his sticks were limited; you could read him like an open book, and according to a tangent you’d gone on a few months back, rambling on about something insignificant was a key sign the teen was attempting to lie about.

“you’re a terrible liar, and a worse boyfriend for trying to lie to me,” you mused, a smirk coming to your face as you twisted around to get a better view of the awfully orange section of skin on his neck. as if he felt your eyes on his neck, sebastian brought his unoccupied hand up, covering his neck in a feeble attempt to hide the blotchiness. letting out a groan, you gripped his forearm, ignoring the heat coming to your cheeks as you felt the muscle underneath his robes flex from your touch as you tried to pry away his hand. “seb! let me see! please,” you pleaded with the brunette, continuing to tug what seemed like your whole body weight down on his arm, but to your dismay, he didn’t even budge a centimetre. “if it’s a bruise from quidditch, there’s nothing to be ashamed of, love. it happens!”

letting out a groan of his own, sebastian shook his head, his fingers clamped down on his scarf and around his neck, his other hand idly pushing around the breakfast on his plate as he tried to ignore your assault of questions and comforts. how could he even begin to tell you that the awfully covered bruises on his neck were from you. his hardworking, intelligent, sweet girlfriend. he couldn’t break it to you; if he knew you as well as he hoped he did after half a year of dating, you’d be mortified at your actions from last night. a hot and heavy make out session in the room of requirement led to more than tousled hair, unbuttoned, and untucked shirts. it had led to your lips on his neck, legs wrapped around his waist as he was just putty in your hands after not seeing him properly for almost a week. ‘sickeningly sweet lovebirds' is what ominis had called you two with a fake gag when you had first started going out, and the name only became more true as the weeks flew by. now, it seemed as if you couldn’t go more than a few hours without reappearing by the other’s side, glued at the hip. amit had said you guys were star crossed lovers long before an official confession was even made from you (who was tired of sebastian’s flirtatious banter and his lack of balls to ask you out properly. you threatened him that you’d go out with prewett if he didn’t cough up an answer soon enough), and there you were last night, too caught up in each other to realise the fog that had consumed both your brains.

“MC, it’s. it’s not from quidditch,”

“then what is it from? ominis finally rocked your world with his duelling skills?” you snickered as sebastian glared at you, only for it to soften as he saw the joy in your eyes.

“something like that, i suppose.”

“wait- it wasn’t from anne was it? was she sick of your awful jokes finally and decided to take revenge?” you faked a surprised gasp, erupting into a fit of giggles as sebastian elbowed you gently in the side.

“my joke are not awful, i’ll have you know. got professor sharp to laugh at one the other day!”

“yes, dear, i know. we’ve been in the same potions class for how long now?”

“when will you stop piercing this beating heart, oh love,” sebastian let out a theatrical gasp, his hand moving from his neck unconsciously as he clutched the fabric over his heart, his head falling back to match his dramatical action. taking the opportunity, you yanked down his scarf, a nasty shade line of purple and blue hues ran down the column of his neck, and you suppressed a gasp as you tenderly ran a finger down his neck.

“sebastian! who did this to you? oh, merlin, i’m going to have their chin at the end of my wand for hurting you like this!” the anger was evident in your voice, and as much as sebastian liked seeing this rare, possessive side of you, he couldn’t hold the truth back from you any longer. you were right, he was an awful liar, and even worse at keeping things to himself.

“MC, calm down, please,” he whispered, grasping your wrist gently as he looked around the hall, making sure nobody’s prying eyes were on the two of you before yanking you off the bench and dragging you to the floo flames. before you could spew more nasty things about yourself unknowingly, he had you both inside the room of requirement. turning to face you, he could practically see the steam coming out of your ears, and he bit down a smile at the pout you had on your face. “do you really want to know?” he asked you, watching you frantically bob your head up and down.

“what kind of question is that! yes, sebastian sallow, i would in fact, love to know who did this to you! fighting with wands is one thing, but getting into a physical altercation with another student is another thing! i should go to professor weasley about this, or merlin, even professor black! they should have a week’s worth of detention, or even expelled!” sebastian could only watch with an amused look on his face as you paced right in front of him, throwing your hands up in the air every once in a while while your boots clacked on the stone of the floor. once you seemed to get most of your anger out in a verbal way, he let out a laugh. “what’s so funny, sallow? being beaten up sure isn’t, and from the looks of it, you didn’t even put up a fight! your knuckles are perfectly healed, and you don’t have any breaks on your face like you’d had when i first came.”

“you’re right, love. i didn’t put up a fight. i actually enjoyed this assault,” he watched as your jaw dropped, a smirk playing on his lips. oh, it was truly amusing to see you being so naive and forgetful.

“sebastian sallow! have you finally lost what little brain cells you have left?” you stood on your tip-toes and rattled your knuckles against his forehead, internally relieved that his brain wasn’t missing.

“you see that couch over there?” he pointed at the leather couch you had, pushed against the wall, giving a good view of the christmas tree you’d set up in the middle of the room. nodding to his question, he continued. “that’s where i was assaulted, per se.”

“but- how? only you and professor weasley know about this place. and deek, but i doubt he’d do anything to you.” sebastian was having way too much fun with this, the look of confusion and worry etched onto your features only fueled the fire in him.

“it was this awfully pretty witch who did it. she had let her hair out of her bun, and i was completely thrown off by her, having never seen it down. and her hands were all over me too, never once leaving my body. sat on my lap and everything.”

“sebastian! not only did you get assaulted, you, you cheated on me?” maybe he pushed it too far now, realising the pain in your voice and the tears pooling in your waterline. sighing, he ran a hand through his hair before looking back at you.

“MC, you are dim. it was you, love. you are the witch who assaulted me, and supposedly should get a week’s worth of detention or even expulsion.” it took a few moments for the gears to turn in your brain before it all clicked, and sebastian had a front row seat to this show. your face turned scarlet in a few mere seconds, and you’d let out a series of incomprehensible words before covering your red face with your hands. a few apologies were strewn out too, though barely audible beneath your hands and you tried to hide yourself away from the man. laughing, sebastian grasped your wrists, prying them away from your face only to be met with your teary eyes and a furious blush.

“i’m- i’m so sorry sebastian! i didn’t mean to! i-i swear!” you hiccuped a few times, and it only made sebastian laugh more as he pulled you into his chest.

“oh, my sweet witch. whatever am i going to do with you?” he asked to nobody, wrapping an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders.

“you-you aren’t mad?” you looked up at him, and his heart melted at your sorrowed expression.

“love, i am the furthest thing from mad. i quite enjoyed myself last night, and you seemed to as well, if those little breathy moans were anything to go by,” he shot a wink down at you, and you pushed his chest away from you, pouting once again.

“you aren’t funny, sallow.”

“i meant it dear. although, it would be nice for me to pay back the favor,” his voice lingered in the air as he withdrew his arms, instead interlocking your fingers together as he tugged you towards the couch.

“seb?..” you were confused, intrigued but confused as he plopped back on the couch, pulling you into his lap as you let out a yelp from the surprise.

“my little witch deserves some affection too, don’t you think?” his breath was hot on your neck, and any thoughts lingering in your brain vanishes as you felt his lips on your neck, peppering the skin in light kisses before they grew more hot.

“i-i hurt you, seb,” you breathed out, hand on his chest as he resumed his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest, his lips not leaving your neck for a moment.

“quite the contrary, dear. if anything, i should be thanking you. finally got some fifth year off my ass because of your..handiwork, and i think i should return the favor, seeing how prewett has been eyeing you again recently,” you could feel the smirk on his lips as he spoke against you skin, and instead of arguing, you just nodded along. “good,” was all he said before a harsh nip came at your throat, finally understanding what he meant by him wanting to return the favor. “after i’m done with you, i’m afraid a scarf won’t hide much, MC.”

#sebastian sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt x y/n #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x mc #hogwarts legacy x you #x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #leander prewett #bee’s writing

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catboybiologist · 8 months ago

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i just had a moment

i wonder how many people on this were, in a way, saved from an alt-right pipeline by realizing and accepting that they're queer.

like 12-13 year old me was going on like /pol/ and shit before the dysphoria hit

just makes you think

Oh yay this is causing me to ramble

I think that being targeted by some form of radicalization was genuinely part of the reality of being a white kid online in the 200Xs to 201Xs.

I don't think I was fully on that pipeline, but I was 3000% an obnoxious neolib atheist as a teenager. The kind of person that describes themselves as "socially progressive, economically conservative", engaged with MRA stuff online with shallow "but what about men" sentiments, thought many protests had "the right idea, but are too extreme, we should just debate", and generally considered myself better than everyone else because of how "smart" and "rational" I was.

You know the type. This was when I was like... 14-17yo. And before you scoff at it being "dumb teenage shit", the alt right targeted those people, at that age and time, hard. I turned 18 in 2016, and that election was my first, coming right off of an online climate relentlessly trying to radicalize kids... So yeah, it was weird.

I feel like the ones that didn't become alt right gradually slid into leftism. Usually, the "revelation" moment was when you're excluded. You realize a lot of these people's "rationality" is based on irrational biases that they're dressing up as "logic", and it all crumbles. PoC and other minoritized groups are excluded form the start, of course, but since being queer is something that doesn't awaken until a bit later in life, it creates a kind of unique experience of potentially falling down that hole, until you realize you can't be a part of it.

But also to be fair... the same environment that caused a lot of the radicalization also fostered a lot of the communities we love. Modern "breadtube", as annoying as that term is, is an offshoot of this as well. Beyond just a few online-famous people, there's larger circles of leftist communities that have organized and done real, active good. I still carry some streaks of that stuff around, and I'm probably less extreme than most terminally online queer leftist circles. But idk. A bit of that weird, "rational worship" online vibe has done good, even if it's also done a lot of harm.

Honestly, everything I'm talking about here is extremely well summarized by Contrapoint's tangent about New Atheism. It's a Patreon exclusive, but it's a topic I saw myself reflected in a lot.

If my ramble here is shitty/incomplete and feels like I'm being apologetic or trying to excuse the alt right, that's an error in communication, not my actual intent- I hope that's clear.

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androdragynous · 5 months ago

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tell me something about your art. fucking love the recent sharp angles.

thank you for giving me an excuse to ramble I love you. kiss

this is going to be a long post but I think it's important so I'm leaving it as a normal post and not a read more

I wrote more words and changed my mind because I got distracted a bunch of times by talking to myself. Enjoy

my own works in general have always been like. The Way By Which I Interact With The World which I think is a pretty common artist experience. my fan art tended to focus on my own characters in those settings rather than on the existing characters because of that, to my younger self's chagrin at times (the desire to Appeal To Fandom was much stronger in my younger years, which I think is also pretty typical). so there was always that lens of, like, these characters aren't me, but they could have been, in some way, or at least when viewed at certain angles. first guy is dealing with the same shit, second guy is doing some gender stuff baby me won't unpack for another five years, you get the idea.

and then the whole disability thing ramped up a few notches and everything went to shit, which is to say, for a really long time there I couldn't so much as look at art without pain, let alone long enough to create it. I did not have the tools to accomodate that disability or the finances to get them, and so for a really long time I was basically cut off from... what honestly felt like my ability to connect with people.

this sucked very badly in many ways. it's still not back to where it was before things got worse, but I'm happy with where it's been recently. I don't know how much of that is connected to getting a blood transfusion and the affiliated correction to my quantity of blood. I don't know how much of it is just pure desperation to reconnect with a world that I feel estranged from. We will come back to this point because I have a different tangent first:

I really don't like vent art. I don't like making it, I don't like posting it, and I don't like seeing it. I understand why people make it - I understand why I do - but there's a very harsh rawness to it that feels inappropriate as a viewer. It's voyeuristic; it's a look into something incredibly deeply personal hurt and an equally deep and genuine desire to have that hurt seen, validified, comforted.

I do not think vent art is bad to create or share, to be clear. The fact it makes me uncomfortable does not illegitimize it. Could honestly strengthen its reason for existing, to be quite honest.

The line blurs with disability, though, and this is where we come back to the original tangent, because to talk about disability that cannot be cured will innately be seen as venting. It's basically inevitable, in my experience. You're supposed to want to get better. You're supposed to hate existing like this. So if you mention it, to people who haven't either been in the same boat or who haven't taken the time to work through their own baggage about it, it's innately a vent. It's innately a hurt that you're burdening them with, a hurt that you want recognized and helped. My family members have been particularly bad about this viewpoint, but so have friends and medical professionals. So have strangers. I find it akin to arguments against gay public displays of affection; two men holding hands is sexual, using a mobility aid is pitiable. You get me? There's that innate sense that you, as the person watching a disabled person be disabled, should be feeling something about it, and if it's not inspiration porn, obviously you're meant to be sad. If it wasn't clear, this is the description of a train of thought that I believe is entirely incorrect.

Anyways. So disability art ends up grouped as vent art if you talk about it sucking at all, even if the suck is about the barriers presented by society and not the disability itself. I can, of course, only speak for my own experience, which is what this post is about, so my situation is very much barriers-focused.

People really, really aren't good at dealing with the discomfort part, what I detailed as the emotions I feel around vent art. People don't know what to do when you don't want help, or their help doesn't help (for whatever reason), or basically in any situation where you can't actually fix things, which is a lot of Being Disabled. It's hard to sit with that discomfort, especially when it's about a person's vulnerability. People want to help others, generally, in my experience, and it's difficult to not be able to when it's someone you care about.

Which all ties back into the voyeurism; to be visibly disabled is to be a spectacle. This has also been pretty inevitable, in my experience. Being in a wheelchair draws attention. Using a cane draws attention. Wearing an eye patch draws attention. So on and so forth. Sometimes this is great - people will offer their chairs to me sometimes if I'm using my cane, for example, which I appreciate - and sometimes it is less great.

This ties in, for me, with the part people REALLY don't like talking about, which is sex and sexuality. How do you date when you can't go out to many places? How do you get to know someone when you live with others and can't invite them over? How do you look sexy when you feel and kind of look like a corpse? These are all questions I'd love to know the answers to, because I'm shit out of luck on figuring it out so far, and that's not even touching on the actual sex, because I don't want to get this post filtered if I can help it. There's a balance, right, of being visible on purpose by flirting, dressing up, going out, making an impact, that is both directly overlapping with and directly opposed to the inevitable visibility of visible disability. They juxtapose magnificently, in a kind of sun and moon during an eclipse sort of way, you get me? You have to lean into it. You have to make yourself comfortable in that visibility because it's inevitable, and you are going to inevitably be viewed as a spectacle because you've leaned into it, and you're never going to be viewed as sexual because nobody will ever distinguish that there are two kinds of visibility being done, here.

And THAT I think is where my art is at right now, trying to convey that overlap. I do not think I have been subtle about it - it's loud colors, sharp lines, layers of vandalism over the original draft, a kind of intentional obscuration that implies many others were drawn to leave their mark there. You know? But because of What It Is, I do think it causes discomfort in the overlap. It's supposed to. It's inevitable that it would. I think being disabled is overtly sexual in the way being gay is overtly sexual in the way being trans is overtly sexual, in that none of them are but none of them aren't, either, in the right contexts or the wrong ones. People are going to see you exist and come to their own conclusions about how wrong you must feel in existing, and they will be made uncomfortable by that perception, and they will want to fix you. You have to accept that or you have to be uncomfortable right back. There's not really a third option that keeps you alive. This is all connected to the art, because the art is also inherently sexual, for approximately the same reasons.

So the tldr is "op is it weird if I think this is hot" is both the intended response and yes, it is weird, and you have to sit with the fact that both of those are true and you have to be normal about it for the rest of your life forever, and also you should take that knowledge and get weirder about it. It's a complex system. I also may have described none of it. Good luck.

#patch me through to palaven command

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deathbyhertouch · 6 months ago

Text

Better in the Dark

Lucy Dacus x reader

A/N: here is the winner for my song inspired poll. I love this song a lot, the whole album is something special. I hope you like it! please send me some requests, i am dangerously low on ideas to write.

warnings: drug use, drinking, mild angst, heavy sorrow, mild pining, stargazing, like three swear words???

word count: 1.1k

Enjoy!

The party was in full swing, a crowd of people crammed into the basement, everyone toting a red solo cup. The music was blaring, and the heavy smell of weed, flooding her nostrils. Lucy sat alone on the small recliner, picking at her ripped jeans. She didn’t want to be here, she wanted to be nestled up in bed, watching some movie. Instead, she was dragged to a house party by a friend she was only semi close with. That friend had long disappeared, being her ride home. Her phone had died an hour ago, leaving her alone with her thoughts. It had been a few months since she had broken up with you. You two had been drifting apart for months, and you were more alone in the relationship than either of you ever were when you were single. It wasn’t that you didn’t love each other, or didn’t want to make it work-you had just grown apart, circumstantially.

Lucy huffed, standing up to make her way to the sorry excuse for a ‘bar’, wanting to distract herself from her own thoughts. She grabbed a fresh cup, filling it with ice, before reaching for the half empty bottle of vodka. She filled it about halfway, enough to feel it burn down her throat. She looked around, grabbing the first mixer she could find. She poured the contents into her cup, giving it a good stir with her finger before taking a large swig. She grimaced lightly at the taste, before turning back around to make her way back to her lonesome throne. She looked up, gasping lightly, nearly dropping her drink.

There you were, sat on the couch, surrounded by your friends, lost in conversation. You looked damn good, you had dyed your hair blonde, something she had never seen before. Her cheeks flushed bright red, not expecting you to be here. She glanced around, finding the sliding door to the backyard, and making a beeline for it. She rushed outside, finding a small spot under the outdoor patio, and plopping herself down on it.

Her mind was racing, should she say something to you? Does she try to find her friend to drive her home? She pondered the options, not even realizing someone had followed her out into the obsidian night. The mystery person sat beside her in the other chair. She looked over, not being able to make out who it was.

“Want a hit?” She froze, hearing your voice. You didn’t recognize her, not with how dark it was outside. You lit the joint hanging out of your mouth, taking a light drag, before holding it out to her. Lucy murmured a thanks, in a low voice, as not to give herself away. She took the joint from your fingers, bringing it to her lips, inhaling the sickly sweet smoke into her mouth. She exhaled, passing you back the joint. You had grabbed it, putting it in your mouth. You two passed the joint back and forth until there was no more. Then it was just silence, and the heaving breathing coming from Lucy.

“God what a fucking night, yeah? All these stars out here, not even the moon is out.” Your high rambles were one of your quirks that she had always adored about you. She had missed this, you going off on a tangent, listening intently with every word. She hummed in agreement, still nervous about what was currently happening.

If I move now, she’ll never know it was me. Lucy’s fight or flight had kicked in, trying to decide how to proceed the evening. What she didn’t notice was that your face was inches from hers.

“Y’know, Luce, I can hear your thoughts inside your pretty head.” Your pretty head, that was all it took for her to realize you knew it was her. Lucy swallowed hard, raising her eyes to meet your hazy stare.

“I-I didn’t think you’d realize it w-was me. I’m sorry.” She whimpered, shame creeping up her neck. You let out a soft giggle, shaking your head slightly at the raven-haired woman.

“How could I not? I noticed you the second you walked in. I also noticed Rachel ditch you for some loser the second you turned away from her. I always hated that bitch. She was never nice to you.” You rambled. Lucy let out a chuckle at that, knowing you were right. Rachel was by no means a good friend, but she had known her since elementary school.

“I miss you, Luce. You have no idea.” You continued, still intently looking at the rather flustered woman. Lucy smiled weakly at you, she was glad you felt like that, now feeling guilty for the way things ended up.

“I miss you too, Y/N. I’ve been miserable without you.” She confessed, her gaze now falling to the grass at her feet. She felt your hand grasp hers, intertwining your fingers together.

“I still love you, y’know. Always will.” You mused. Lucy squeezed your hand, bringing it to her lips to lightly peck it.

“I love you too. I’m sorry for the way things ended, I never meant to hurt you the way I did.” Lucy apologized, feeling tears creep into her eyes.

“Maybe it’s for the best, right now anyways. I know your career means a lot to you, I would never ask you to step away from that. Not when I know that I was the muse for Night Shift.�� You teased, hoping to cheer her up a bit, in your own fucked up way. Lucy laughed loudly at this, blinking the tears away.

“Truer words have never been spoken.” She retorted, smiling back at you. She leaned back in her chair, taking in the astronomy before her.

“Maybe someday, we’ll find our way back to each other. I wouldn’t mind giving us a re-do.” You quipped, speaking more to yourself than you were to her. She smiled to herself, nodding at the affirmation. You two sat in silence for what felt like hours, just enjoying the silent company as the party raged on inside. It wasn’t until the sun started to peek through the trees that you had said your respective goodbyes to each other, each heading your own separate way.

Love, A.

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