#it's bc i still live in the same flat
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🌛 - aahh an angel of a professor has allowed me to take the oral exam in cultural studies even though i forgot to register for it! super grateful rn but that means that i have about two days to study for it so it's going to be a couple of late night study sessions :')
#this post looks exactly like my last one sorry#it's bc i still live in the same flat#ok back to speed reading 300 pages#studyblr#langblr#aesthetic#study aesthetic#study inspiration#studying linguistics#studying english literature#studyspo#academia#jaystudies
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left welsh cakes & a note w my name & phone number in the mailboxes of the rest of the flats here & ONE (1) of SEVEN (!!!) (though i think 1 flat is actually vacant) texted me saying ‘hi im so & so :)’ & i’m now harassing her like so ur my new bestieeeee
#stream#i just NEED to have someone living nearby to confide in or i will kill myswlf#ALSKALSKALSKAKKSLAKSLA like u know the person that lives there w u that u can drunkenly ramble to bc yall live together#in this case it’s not even ‘live together’ like they’re all self contained like it’s like living in a hotel it kinda makes me laugh just#imagine no reception desk that is EXACTLY how it feels like u can’t think american hotel u gotta think british hotel but not only british#it’s just an old mansion that has been turned into separate rooms or use the separate rooms as rooms / flats or whatever#i mean that’s essentially what i’m living in#& i love it i wanted to live in 1 of these bastards so bad idc if there’s black mould that’s this entire country; a rotting cesspit - but#it’s soooooo cuteeeeeee it’s like 130 years old the building#original walls & ceilings it’s GORGGGGGGGG#the original idk what to call it there’s this british thing where u tile the walls of the entrance or like stoop of the home & then they’ll#put like a ‘family name’ or ‘the street number’ in like stained glass this is NOT AT ALL a MODERN british thing like a total of 0 NEW HOMES#WILL HAVE THIS SHIT IS LIKE PREWAR#WAR BEING WW1 😭😭😭😭#it’s just ughhhhhh girl i love it & the uk likes to retain character to new developments & redevelopments so they literally made it policy#to maintain ugly ass buildings which makes me laugh but GOOD as it SHOULD#like i mean double edged sword gentrification is it can still be in the same character or change character but it’ll be gentrified so :(#WHICH IS WHY U PLAN FOR POOR & LOW INCOME HOUSING !!!!!!#council housing my beloved 😍😍😍
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okay I severely misjudged spaghetti guy he’s actually just really cool
#okay so I came to this flat and he wasn’t here. greeted by a very dirty flat with shit all over the kitchen counters over cling film#I meet first my other flatmate who told me he stays in his room constantly bc of previous bad flatmates#has literally just a saucepan and some salt in the kitchen. so I’m like okay spaghetti guy potentially not great but could just be#how this guy is yknow#on Tuesday I get an email back saying he’s coming back from Norway tonight looking forward to seeing you feel free to use the kitchen sauces#rlly friendly message that I wasn’t expecting. I also didn’t know he’d been on a trip i just knew he wasn’t there bc his door was open#(to a REALLY nice room. multiple rlly nice plants (which he has little care labels for!!!) and it’s tidy and pretty#and he’s got a sheep teddy on the bed)#meanwhile I am in my own head bc I don’t wanna cook in the kitchen until I can clean it and I can’t clean it without moving his shit and#I haven’t seen him yet to talk abt it and I can’t bring myself to talk to him immediately bc I’m dying#and embarrassed as hell by how I’ve been cooking in my room with a microwave and air fryer (loud) and sneaking my shit out of the kitchen#but then yesterday I DO talk to him!! and he’s super friendly!! actually interested in having a conversation and Good at it.#and then he’s cooking and like. spaghetti burns but I’m not there for long and seems to be a mistake (he made the same thing for lunch today#and did Not burn the spaghetti) and is otherwise clearly competent bc the food smells Good and despite leaving a few things out it’s like#washed up stuff isn’t dirty and the sides are better despite still under cling film. more a case that he’s spread out than he’s messy#and now today we talked and i offered to hold onto some shit over summer bc complicated situation that boils down to he’s flying back home#and he cant take all his stuff and had to choose between chucking stuff/having literally nothing this weekend. like sleeping on the sofa etc#and then cleans the whole flat?? which I’m assuming a good chunk is his mess? but he did not need to do that. could’ve easily left#bc there are two people still living here who would’ve had to deal with it and he doesn’t know either at all#and THEN tonight we talk abt food which is fun bc we both ordered stuff. and he offers me some honeydew melon bc he’s been gorging himself#these past two days to finish it before it goes bad/he leaves which is also really sweet#and JUST NOW. I take my headphones out after finishing dinner and hear the sweetest fucking guitar#he plays the gentlest like dreamy sounding acoustic guitar I’ve heard in my life in his room (door closed by the time I leave)#this is actually just a really cool dude#now that the kitchens clear I’m gonna cook tomorrow and will probably offer him some bc otherwise he’s gonna be eating out all weekend#he has extra takeout for tomorrow night but might want smth Sunday#regardless I am just. huh??? left a bit stunned bc of the u turn my opinion of this guy has taken. bc my opinion of him was a reflection#of my discomfort moving to this weird dirty basement flat with two people I didn’t know#well. idk where to go from here. I think I’ll start by talking to him more this weekend. bc holy fucking shit.#luke.txt
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gonna word vomit in these tags oops
#rambling to myself whatever#ik i just need to settle into this flat and get used to living by myself but im kinda like#hmm have i cursed myself w being lonely#i think also this flat is pretty dark bc the other buildings block out the sunlight so my seasonal depression is going crazy in advance#like its dumb but im not very approachable irl so i dont have many uni friends on my course and im just kinda#idk how i feel about it all#if my timetable stays the same i have tues and wed off and im getting in my head wo the distraction#like ik ill be fine in theory but im overthinking rn and its not even 3am lonely hours#and ik i can go out and do things by myself bc i often do but sometimes its nice to have the company#i made most of my friends at dorms but it was intercollegiate so they all go to diff unis to me so timetables clash double#and my closest uni friend is studying aboard in ny rn :(#idk i just feel like sometimes im not on the same path as everyone at uni rn#or maybe ur 20s are really just isolating idk#esp after the pandemic and many many lockdowns like i took a year out and all my old friends went straight to uni#and the diff in experience just meant they got closer and i got further#i only talk to one of them now and shes my ride or die but also she was kinda in a diff group of friends#and its funny (?) to think my main friendship group all still talk to each other#i just dont think im an easy person to be friends with#and idk why#its not for lack of trying or anything i just dont think im the type of person who has longlasting relationships#idk im not going into that rn#i also chose to go to a uni close to home so theres a lot that ive already done#its ok i can always do them again#but also im kinda like what if i just go home !! lmao#and itd be nice but i think itd make me feel worse when im back in the flat#hh whatever let me just get on with it and move on#its only 5 weeks until reading week and i only have this year left of uni#endure endure endure
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kinda bs that weight gain might make your chest grow but if you lose weight it wouldn't necessarily shrink your chest
#weight mention#tbh 90% of the time i go braless#even with a friend i wouldn't necessarily wear a sports bra#top surgery is too expensive lol#but even so i'd be happy with like a 50% reduction/one cup size down or so /shot#b/c i don't wanna be completely flat/masculine/androgynous#but at the same time i'd still prolly need to lose weight b/c if my chest was flat#it'd make my belly look pregnant if i wore something revealing lol#tho more or less if i live in the south i prolly would have to start wearing a bra or at least sports bra/undershirt again#like i did in high school sincei live in the south and ppl are uptight#although also there'd prolly be creepers staring at my chest either way#or maybe find thicker shirts outside of summer lol#bc otherwise i wouldnt' care#tho tops aside i prolly need more bottoms#bc i prolly can't wear skirts/dresses to a workplace every day even if some places allow shorts lol
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apartment hunting be like 'that flat is in an inconvenient neighborhood, that building is right next to a massive construction site, that kitchen hasn't been updated since like the 70s and the stove looks like a fire hazard, this apartment has a super inconvenient layout, this hasn't got enough storage, a minimum one year contract...'
#noopa rambles#frigging studio apartments having stupid layouts#esp the trend with new apartments to have the kitchen just along the living space wall is killing me#it makes furnishing the rest of the apartment such a pain#fucking hate that moving seems like a smart option atm#bc there's gonna be construction that will last for years right outside my window soonish#I'll have some time to find a place before it starts#I really don't want to live right next to a construction site for years when I work from home#if I didn't work from home it wouldn't be an issue#ofc I could wait and see just how loud the construction will be when they start doing the demo first#kinda still wanna move cities but the city I wanna move to is so much more expensive#I'd either need a roommate or live far from downtown#which would be super annoying for a side job commute and I'd like a side job#and I don't exactly know anyone I could ask to be a roommate#and let's be real I also wouldn't want to ruin friendships by existing as a roommate#I feel like I'd be a disaster as a roommate#I really like my current flat the layout is sooo good and the location is excellent#I'm lowkey just considering finding a flat in the same group of apartments but a few buildings down#so that there'd be at least a block and two-three buildings between me and the construction#but idk if that'd still do enough to protect from the noise so it might just be pointless to move half a block#but this location is just so good man!!!
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the shadowgast pacific rim au that exists in my brain.
#LONG TAGS LORE DUMP FOR A FIC I'M NEVER GONNA WRITE PROBABLY#deirta is pentecost she lost her husband in a battle and piloted the jaeger to shore alone - verin is tendo he could fight but deirta#doesn't want either of her sons in a jaeger ever. verin is okay enough with this. essek is not.#caleb ran a triple arm jaeger with astrid and wulf and lost his mind a little bit when they died. he felt them die. the added stress of#piloting a jaeger to shore on his own put him in the hospital and then a psych ward for three months#before he began helping with wall construction as equipment maintenance. clearly this is still a magic au and tech = magic etc etc#I CANNOT stress enough that jaegers are powered by luxon beacons.#anyway essek is in mako's position and caleb is beckett. the restless assistant and the tired veteran#essek chooses caleb's candidates - the candidate process is a little more complicated because these fantasy jaegers#work off of both magic and manual physical effort - candidates have to be evenly matched in both physical and mental fields#blumendrei only worked because caleb and astrid combined matched wulf in physicality. astrid and wulf matched caleb in casting.#it was. unhealthily competitive between them at times and astrid was the worst about it. he still misses them every single day.#it's like. shit hurts to do when one arm or leg is weaker than the other. it's like that. it has to match#essek and caleb have little noodle arms and truly insane skills w casting. so they're compatable. essek is sure. caleb does the same#'why do you keep making that face' bit like beckett did bc he's tired of essek's attitude and deirta's flat dismissal of him#they metaphorically roll the same exact initiative and the fight ends in caleb casting firebolt/essek casting sapping sting#and the two of them both use their reaction to counterspell. they both move to cast again when deirta is like Okay Stop Fighting I Get It#heehoo. the first time they drift together caleb leans that essek secretly recovered a beacon from a downed jaeger and has been using it to#advance his research while passing himself off as a genius - not that he isn't. he just has another stepping stone as well.#essek gets to live thru caleb's experience of feeling two (2) people die at the same exact moment. yeah verin has to pull that fuckin plug.#other notes. veth and yeza r the scientists. OBVIOUSLY veth drifts with a kaiju brain like are u KIDDING me#other jaeger teams are fjord+jester yasha+beau and the tealeaf triplets.
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trying to figure out how tf I'm gonna get home from this gig next week..
#doors open 7 and they only have 1 support so i would expect support to be on at 8 and the main act at 9 but it finishes at 11......#but id need to leave around 10pm to catch the last train home if i miss that im fuuuucked#but that might mean missing out on most of their set if they dont start until 9:30 or later :(#ahhhhh#i have a friend who still lives in that city so maybe ill ask them if they could put me up for a night..... hmm#i think they live a fair distance from the venue tho.. if i miss some of it i miss some of it i guess. its not the end of the world#they HAVR announced new dates for next year and theyre playing in my current city so maybe. i could resell these tix#and just go see them in february instead#WAIT. THE ONE IN FEB IS LITERALLY 10 MINS WALK FROM MY FLAT ??????#what the fuck. well i might as well just do that then lmaooo#saves me buying train tickets too#theres a gig w 4 post punk bands next week that i also really wanna go to bc one of the bands i LOVEEE but i think id run into the same-#problem travelling there ARGHHHH#so fucking annoying cuz its a tiny venue (~200 capacity) so rly intimate and they have such good sound there ive been before#and the band i love is relatively small and canadian so the odds of them playing here again are slim to none so 😭😭😭😭#ill check the venue page maybe theyll end a bit earlier so its feasible. maaaannn#i havent been to enough live music lately i rly need to get back into it#theres a jmath band ive seen before on tour again i think they hit my city in a couple weeks so might go to that they were sick last time#we will SEE#anyway lunchtime baby#.diaries
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the v's reaction to someone taking your hearing aid
♥ summary: "what the Vees would do if they noticed their partially deaf s/o being picked on - like the other people would tear out their hearing aid(s) and break them and stuff" @aceduchessdragoness ♥ characters: velvette, vox, valentino ♥ notes: screaming and crying okay so i did val's spanish as spain spanish bc i think spain sign language would be better than narrowing his signs down to a specific latin american country but if the translation is cringe then tell me bc i'm literally using an lse dictionary
Vox
♥ word count: 1.9k ♥ notes: i use [Y/N] for the first time in my career ong, she/her pronouns used in third person, reader doesn't speak and only signs, protective but violent vox, vox in a healthy relationship, reader gets harassed in public
It was never a mystery to you how Vox always knew where you were. Even without the watch on your wrist, you felt his eyes on you, the looming knowledge of persistent monitoring.
Not that it bothered you, of course. If anything, you were worried that he wanted to spend his time watching you instead of running his business. But whatever, it was flattering.
Whenever you went on your routine errands, you would smile at every television or security camera you encountered. On the big screens in Vox's room, he feels like the common softening of his heart. Your smile always seems so genuine. How can somebody like you adore him so much?
.
Blue light illuminates your living room. From the kitchen, you groan as you make your way to the television. Can he stop bothering you at this hour? All you wanted to do was get some damn water, but of course, as always, he's monitoring you.
Words pop up on the screen as you approach it. You rub your eyes, the brightness overwhelming. You reach for your coffee table.
GO TO SLEEP
With the sudden click of the remote, you smile as the screen goes black. One, two, three... it lights up again.
DON'T TRY
Again, the screen goes black. One... again, a bright blue illuminates you.
[Y/N]. The television shakes.
You snicker at him, finally sitting on the floor and putting the remote down. On the other side of that screen, Vox sits on his swivel chair, gazing up at you, your frame taking up multiple monitors. Your eyes look below where his point of view is.
"It's late," you sign, and the light makes your hands shine in the darkness. "Dim it a little."
He listens; his small act of consideration makes you melt. Your eyes soften immensely. Internally, he begs you to stop looking at him like that; it's embarrassing how good it makes him feel.
The television is still a blinding blue as you go from the living room to the bedroom; he follows you per any screen by your side. Worst of all, a flat-screen faces your bed, which was mandatory.
"Goodnight, Vox." You sign while putting your face up to the screen.
You turn this TV off, and to your delight, it stays off.
.
With a yawn, you stretch your morning aches away and lean your head against the table of your vanity. You get a few seconds of shut-eye before popping back up. Vox is watching; if he notices you're tired, he will try to be domestic and nap with you regardless of how much work you must do today. So you rub away your sleepy eyes and massage the tension in your jaw. Putting on your hearing aid is first on your daily to-do list; you'd like to hear if he pops up on your television and decides to update you on his morning. Sometimes, he gets so impatient. Next, while picking up your moisturizer, you try not to shiver at the coldness once it touches your fingers.
You wish yourself a good morning before rubbing it in.
At the same time of day, Vox was already up and doing his rounds, making sure his employees were getting work done. He gets antsy between when you wake up, and you get to the tower. Every morning once he sees you entering the elevator, he'll wait on the other side to welcome you in with a kiss to the forehead.
Vox checks his watch. It shows his favorite things: your vitals, location, and pretty little face whenever you dial him.
You've finally left your place, thank goodness. Pacing aimlessly has never looked good on him.
.
He stands by his window, looking down at the streets below, watching you approach. You're wearing your usual uniform, one that he picked out just for you; it consists of the same red and blue stripes he has on his everyday suit. It makes you an eyesore in the everyday crowd.
If you didn't know any better, you'd lift your head to see if you could spot him among the many stories. The building is beautiful, overpowering. The V tower's magnificent brightness outshines the rest of the V district. The constant noise of people always has you walking with your hearing aid turned as low as it can go without turning off.
With the pink light reflecting off your face, you look both ways before crossing the street, a bright smile on your face, stepping onto the asphalt before a hand grabs your wrist.
Vox furrows his brow at the sight.
You turn your head and see a friendly reporter and a cameraman, the camera not yet rolling. Your pupils flicker between them.
"Hello!" She smiles, removing her hand. With caution, you fully face her, stepping back onto the sidewalk. The 'professional' persona you've been forced to practice is finally coming to fruition.
"Hello! I'm Deaf; I don't think I'd be able to do an interview."
She flicks her hand and rolls her eyes in the most friendly way possible. "Not a problem," she signs, moving the microphone vibrantly, "I can work this out, no problem!"
You widen your eyes in a wowwwww, oh my god, that's perfect... "Oh, what a kind woman you are!"
Vox? You beg internally. Baby? Save me.
Up high, he doesn't remove his eyes from you. With the use of sign language, he can't listen in, and he can't tell whether he needs to intervene or not. There's nothing wrong with going to check, right? Or will he seem possessive, or scared? He doesn't want people to think he doesn't want you to talk to anyone. It's good that you get to sign to someone other than him and Velvette, right?
The camera starts rolling, and you square your shoulders, adjusting your sleeves for more mobility. The news reporter throws the microphone at the cameraman, who does not catch it but ignores it as she shows off her brightest smile.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I have the sweetest person in hell with me, [y/n]! Tell me, how long have you two been together?"
Of course, the news has been recognizing you recently. You've been seen countless times adjusting Vox's tie (he purposely fucks it up so that you'll step close to him) as well as wrapping your arm around his and pinching the corner of his screen endearingly before you give him a babying compliment. Many people have taken pictures and edited hearts around you two. People are obsessed with how "heavenly" your relationship is.
"Oh, many months now!" You nod to yourself, trying to stop your eyes from shining with admiration. You always get so soft when you think about him; it's one of the things people notice. She looks at him as if he's her entire world.
"Beautiful!" The reporter puffs out her bottom lip innocently. "I'm sure you make that man very happy."
What do you even say to that? I hope so.
"The happiest."
"Now," she doesn't hesitate to change the topic. "Are there any challenges you two face about your... differences?"
Your eyebrows raise before furrowing in confusion. Differences? At first, you think she means his television head, but when she notices you pause, she rudely clarifies. "I mean, with your lack of hearing, you know? Don't you find it a little embarrassing?"
You lean your body away from her. "What are you saying?"
The shock of the tonal shift has you freezing in place. The reporter looks at the camera, her eyes squinting with sadistic amusement. Her fingers twitch as she lifts her arm, not even looking at you before plucking the hearing aid from your ears. She crushes it in her hand.
At first, you grab your ear, pressing your hand to it in disbelief. Your face contorts, your shoulders dropping as you try to step away. Why couldn't you see this coming? And on television—is that where this is airing? The air around you goes quiet, the sensation of spatial awareness fading a bit as you stumble back, your hand still grasping your ear. The watch on your wrist hits your cheek, and without a second thought, you tap on the screen repeatedly. The next thing that popped into your head: her bravery is the most surprising.
With a brief fall of light, Vox stands where the lady once was. You eye him with uncertainty, a look you have never given him. He faces the cameraman, not looking your way. Your eyes go up and down his body; his stance is tense, his arms are folded behind his back, and his fingers sparking with small glimmers of electricity.
You see that lying behind him is the woman, body entirely limp, smoke coming from her mouth, and her eyes looking stuck open.
He speaks to the camera, pointing his finger at it, staring intensely into the shaking, blinking red light. Your hands link around his bicep. Composure, you remind yourself. You turn to the camera with a weary smile and lean your head against him.
.
"That'll never happen again." He stares at himself in the mirror. His dressers and tables are filled with claw marks from his previous meltdowns.
You just sit on his bed, crossing your legs uncomfortably, watching him as he goes back and forth between signing to you and mumbling to himself. You haven't said a word. You just keep your eyes on him.
He protected you in the way he knew best. He wanted nothing more than to put his hands on the sides of her head and crush her skull. It would stain his suit, awful. Even worse, your suit would have been ruined, too.
Should he force you to move into the tower? He's always wanted to. The commute would be no more, and you'd be safe from the outside.
Should he prevent you from leaving at all without him? No, that might be too much, but his entire body craves to keep you secure and protected.
He won't ask you what you want. He knows there's a chance you would just coddle him and tell him it's okay. There's no reality where he will do nothing; he must devise his own plan. But first (actually, secondly, after getting his anger out on his furniture), he wants to make sure his sweetheart is okay.
Once he calmed down and sat next to you, rubbing your thigh, he watched as you scrolled through social media, looking at the hundreds of people laughing and reposting the event. He shuts off your phone, grabs it, and tosses it across the room. You roll your eyes helplessly before he lifts his hands and signs to you.
"I will track everyone down and punish them severely, baby. No one will ever touch you again, or else they will the next flashing headline."
"I know, baby," you wrap your arms around his chest and lean into him, rubbing your cheek against the smoothness of his overcoat.
You hum against him, finding it in yourself to smile softly. Protector, protector, protector. You run those words through your head; they're comforting to their own extent. Suppose he ends up locking you inside the tower. In that case, it's better than him leaving you entirely over this (which, obviously, he'd never actually do). Spending every morning and night with him wouldn't be wrong. Everything happens for a reason.
He leans back onto the bed, his feet dangling off as you curl into his side.
Before resting completely, you use a hand to sign into his chest. "Everything will be fine."
Your coddling, though annoying, provides the most relaxing warmth to his body. He groans, wrapping an arm lazily around you, feeling the usual butterflies in his stomach as you press a small kiss to his collarbone.
.
.
.
Velvette
♥ word count: 1.6k ♥ warnings: reader speaks, party scene, getting harassed by a man, vox is in this too ♥ a/n: i completely headcanon that velvette took an asl class in highschool when she was alive, i have no idea how velvette usually acts in fanfiction so this is MY velvette now
Velvette found you, such a pretty thing, in your little corner of the internet, making content for your little community. That little corner of yours is where you told the news and interpreted a lot of banter from the overlords. Your channel was the perfect mix of education and drama, all for the Deaf community in Hell.
You were, as Velvette described, a tea channel.
She invited you to the V tower to show you around. The three V's introduced themselves to you in their own way, offering you a job. The bossman, ever so gentlemanly and charming, didn't let Valentino try and make sex motions to you for longer than necessary. And before Velvette forced Vox to scurry off, she forced him to snap a few pics of you posing with her as a faux collab.
You weren't stupid. You knew Velvette only wanted your attention to spread whatever brand she endeavored to popularize. But this might be a golden opportunity. You'd learn the behind-the-scenes from three different overlords, and the content you can produce will gather insane traction.
.
Velvette is just so sweet; the way she showed her care for you was just through gift-giving.
She loved putting together gift boxes for you, similar to the sorority kind. The boxes went from cute little baskets to a cardboard box resembling a PR send. These would always be set on your desk with a bit of note from her, each time she'd signed off her name with a heart.
Jackets, shoes, candies, jewelry, pens, everything. The gifts are versatile with familiar themes of hearts. Every day was like Valentine's Day when she was 'courting' you (did she even realize she was?).
She made you bags: totes, crossbody bags, clutches, phone pouches, coin purses, anything she thought you would need with an array of colors to match any outfit. She put in hair clips and pocket mirrors, cozy slippers and fancy journals.
She even got you two matching bracelets.
You love the smirk she wears whenever she notices you adorning anything she's given to you. Damn right, she thinks, I knew it would look good.
The most enormous box she'd ever given you was the day before one of her fashion shows. Inside were glorious clothes from her collection, all for you to pick out and wear. She really loved her stripes.
You put your hearing aid on, smiling at yourself in the mirror as you watch the charm she made you glisten in the light. With your bracelet ornamenting your wrist, you pat down your stripped outfit before taking a deep breath.
.
Your entrance reeks of reluctance. The temptation to retreat back to your room is unbearable. Seeing Velvette will definitely lift your mood; where is she? Surely, she'd be the highlight of the room, but amongst all the women with their eccentric colors and clothing shapes, you can't find your eye drawing to her anywhere.
The sounds of the party blend together in a nasty concoction; you can't help but turn your hearing aids off. The sound is similar to what it's like being outside in a heavy storm; the wind, the pouring rain, the blur and whine of the hearing aids. And instead of lingering by the double doors, you push into the crowd. You're the least recognizable in the crowd of celebrities, but it doesn't stop people from moving out of the way when you try to wiggle through. You're wearing stripes, her stripes. You're either bold or very special to her; they don't want to intervene.
But your stripes also get some people to stare at you longer than they would have otherwise. Across the room, in front of you, you notice a tall, almost shirtless model coming your way, directly staring at you. You break the quick eye contact before squeezing through a cluster of girls taking selfies. They won't let you through, grimacing but not laying any hands on you. When you turn to go the other way, the man is behind you, holding out his hand, waiting for you to put your hand in his.
You click on your hearing aid and scroll up. "What did you say?" You ask verbally, clearing your throat a bit.
His eyes bounce from yours to your hand, looking at what you're touching. His head tilts in interest. You don't like the sight of his smile.
"Oh wow." He says.
Immediately, "Yeah, no," Velvette puts her hands on your shoulders and tries to push you away. "I swear, don't even look at him, he's fucking insane."
He speaks over her, but you can't process his words over how close Velvette's lips are to your ear. Her warm breath sends goosebumps down your arms, and your spine straightens. This only makes her hum in amusement.
After turning and growling at him, she effortlessly maneuvers you away. Eyes watch you even closer now as she touches you. You let her guide you throughout the room with not a clue as to where she's leading you, if anywhere. But eventually, you two end up in front of a mirror the size of a wall.
She stares at you through the mirror. "Look at you," she signs, "extravagant as ever, darling."
"Thanks to you."
"Obviously." And she bumps her hip into yours. You laugh, mimicking the motion back.
You had ditched your initial motive of getting close to the V's to gain more information about them. They were fine people to hang out with, making you laugh and feel involved. Velvette gave you special attention that nobody in your afterlife has ever given. Her lipstick left stains on your cheek whenever she kissed you, and she made an 'appointment' in her schedule once a week to paint your nails the same black color as hers.
The afternoon went by quickly; you spent time clapping and watching models show off their garb. Velvette is a true talent.
But something ruined your evening. The air hummed with laughter and the rhythmic beat of music. Velvette had been whisked away by the other V's to overlook the crowd and count the people who had attended. Among the colorful crowd stood a familiar figure whose eyes sparkled with mischief. Different from last time, you don't notice when he starts to approach again.
"You," he coos, placing his hand under your chin. You must stare at his lips to comprehend his words over the music, an awful innuendo you wish you could have avoided. He leaned in closer to you, and in return, you leaned back. Valentino had told you a bunch of times to not worry if someone puts their hands on you, that it's a typical formality in Hell. You would always roll your eyes at him, never expecting a stranger to grab you like this.
You were mentally preparing yourself to dodge a kiss. But then, daringly, he leaned in and gently plucked the hearing aid from behind your ear, holding it aloft like a trophy. Fear flickered across your face, your hand instinctively reaching for it, but he pulled it away. The charm Velvette gave you dangles like a jewel.
"Don't," you say with desperation. He puts a finger in front of your face and waves it back and forth. He coos, using that hand to grab your face as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.
Your eyes are locked on the charm, and it's brash jolts. You almost beg for him to just give you the charm back.
In the middle of a conversation with Vox, Velvette raises an eyebrow; shocked and pissed, she glared at whoever had torn off your hearing aid. She mumbles, "I'd tear their hearing aid off and break it."
Before she can move closer to you, Vox puts his hand in front of her while watching the interaction. "Think before acting, Velvette."
Her frustration turns into anger as she pushes his hand away. He lets her run off; he holds a hard stare as her pink hair bobs through the crowd.
Your eyes are stuck wide with shock, and a million things run through your head, all relating to the appropriate situational response.
True to your casual self, you were having a hard time not just jamming your hand in his eyes and kicking his shins. Would you make Velvette mad? Vox?--Would that result in you being removed from the V Tower? It's all so complicated. Though you were panicking over a 'quick' decision, you and the man stayed in that position for a few seconds. He stayed laughing, dropping the hearing aid and stomping on it.
At almost the same time, Velvette threw a glass from someone's hand at the man, perfectly aimed, hitting him in the face. She lets out a small "nice!" before rushing to you.
Her hand runs down your face, and she holds you tenderly, not turning to face Vox as he puts himself between her and the man. Your eyes bounce around the entire room. Will you ever get a break from being at the center of attention?
"We're leaving. Now." she signs in a single motion so quick that it makes you smile, relieving some of the stress that's been making your head pound. She's able to sign so naturally now.
The crowd splits into two.
Behind the both of you, Vox is declaring an end to the event, apologizing to the people for the inconvenience. Velvette keeps muttering about him under her breath; you can see her lips moving and her face grimacing.
.
She has beads in front of her, a bunch of small charms with string. She signs, looking up at you. "I should have killed him."
You just watch her craft another charm, laying on her bed and kicking your feet. "That would have been funny."
She scoffs and smiles, her painted lips turning upwards. Her fingers trace over the beads, deciding which one to pick up. She wants to make it different than the last one, but what should it look like? She picks up a pink heart with a slight hum before sliding it down onto the string. She whispers to herself, perfect.
.
.
.
Valentino
♥ word count: 1.7k ♥ note: reader is a vodka drinker, i'm obsessed with writing a loving valentino, reader doesn't talk very much and prefers sign, sexually suggestive things happening but it's not nsfw, kinda written like ass, drugs mentioned but no named just symptoms, takes place on porn set, valentino kills someone, blood description
Every time you step into the studio, you're hit by the smell of sex, mostly the sweetened stench of that strawberry lube he loves so much. Visiting his work is not usually something you do often, but he's seem to be so busy lately that you can't help but bring him a drink, the most beautiful drink in hell: vanilla vodka. You can already see him licking him lips.
Strawberry lube, so prominent in your nose.
His legs are crossed and he stares at the scene in front of him, his sunglasses hiding whatever his emotions are, but his lips are still in a prominent scowl.
Though, when he sees you, his expression changes drastically. He stands with so much excitement that the actors stop to see what he's reacting to. All eyes are on you, you shy away from the attention a bit but Val doesn't seem to notice, else care.
"Amor mío!" One of his hands signs, running down his cheek while his bottom two motions for a hug.
Before you can initiate a hug, he wraps his arms around you and brings you into his chest, trapping your arms in. He's warm, vibrantly so, it's hard not to melt against him. You couldn't be surprised if you let out a small moan at the contact. Oh, how I've missed you so much.
He pulls away quicker than you'd like and takes the bottle from your hand, holding it up close to his face so he can examine it. "Burnett's, oh you shouldn't have!"
He hesitates, torn between his responsibilities and the irresistible allure of having a drink with the person he was enamored with. He's not so easy to whisk away from work, therefore (of course), you seem to be the only person who he is at every beck and call.
You smile softly, "I knew you'd like it."
With a laugh, he takes your hand and spins you, his free hands popping open the bottle, ready to embark on whatever journey you had in store.
He turns and addresses his employees, granting them a small break before turning to you with his sharp smile.
And together, you slip away from the set, leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the studio for a simple moment of peace and luxury. Walls blazed with hues of pink and blue, you both find yourselves nestled on the fluffy couch in a lounge, a wineglass in your hand while he chugs from the bottle.
"You've been so busy." You sign. You switch the wineglass into your non dominant hand to avoid spilling any of the contents. Val holds the bottle with his bottom set of hands while signing with his top ones (he was originally going to do it the other way around).
“I know, princesa,” one of his hands comes up and squeezes your cheek. “Business calls, I cannot help myself.”
“Which is why I came to visit.”
The two of you clink glass upon glass before taking a drink. He’s trying not to finish the drink before you, he’s making sure to take his time. He doesn’t want you to leave as much as he doesn’t want to rush the break. His eyes go over your entire form and take you in, there feels like an eternity since he saw you last. Why do you have so much patience for someone like him? It’s astonishing. Surely someone as beautiful as you could find someone sweeter than her. But he’s grateful to have you, he’s mildly addicted to that internal battle of whether he wants to cherish you or own you (perhaps he can do both? Something he’s never done before).
“What?” You ask.
“Hm?” His fingers pinch together in the casual way of signing.
“You’re staring at me.”
“I can’t resist.”
“What were you thinking about?” You sign and lean forward, giving him bright eyes. Your gaze swallows him, moth to a flame.
He matches your body language, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amor mío.”
When he tries to grab your hand, you pull away. “You're acting as if you're wine drunk.” You sign. You have a sappy smile as you put your glass to your lips.
“Never,” he wiggles his fingers as he signs. You eye him carefully, debating asking if he's kept his favorite gun on him. There's nothing worse than a drunk Valentino.
After the wine break, he has to go back to work. He feels himself getting irritated as he walks back, why can't he just continue spending the day with you? Is it worth sending everybody home? No, he has a job to do, and he needs to complete it before relaxation. But maybe he'll consider taking breaks (his least favorite word) to spend time with you.
You follow, both of your hands holding his, clinging onto him like a child.
Everybody was still in the studio, waiting for his return, not daring to leave in fear of him coming back. Actors were talking to each other casually, away from the camera, it built a strange sense of community for you. They're so nice to each other off-camera.
He drags you to his chair still holding your hand as he sits in it.
Drinking with you had been a much-needed respite from these people. He made a mental note to gift you more wine.
You remove your hands from his and smile. “Get back to work, baby.”
Pearly white, sharp teeth show through his large smile. He presses his lips against each of your knuckles while his eyes skin over all of his actors, counting them. He makes eye contact with one particular one, a woman. They stare at each other for more than a second. She's scowling at him and he squints his eyes at her. The fuck is your problem?
She usually looks at him with sultry looks, but now there's a sharpness to them.
But his eyes peel away from her and go back to you, he leans forward and presses a slow kiss to your forehead. He signs low, almost as if he's whispering a secret. "I'll come see you after."
You smile and start turning away. "Good."
Upon noticing your departure, the actors and crew start returning to their places, keeping an eye on Valentino and any commands he might make. Their eyes are always on him, worried to test his anger. But not all the actors were worried about testing his anger.
"Hey," an actress grabs your hand before you could reach the door and you turn to her. She talks, her voice making your hearing aids buzz, "Are you guys like, dating? Are you dating the Valentino? Like, literally one of the V's."
Her words all bunch into one. You blink, taking time to think about both what she could be asking and the connotation behind it. "Yes?" It sounds more like a question than an answer. Is that the correct response?
She hums and nods, her eyes wide in amazement. Her pupils are large. Her cheeks are hollow and she has strong eyebags. With a distant sound from Val, him talking to the crew, she looks back at him before turning to you. "I mean like, why? Why would he want you?"
Oh no. You try to move away but she just follows you, stepping in front of you closer. It's like being cornered, being trapped in an almost unavoidable situation.
"Why wouldn't he?" You test with a squint of your eyes.
She just smiles at you. "Uhm," and her arm reaches over, grabbing the hearing aid from your ear, pinching it between her claws, "Obviously this."
You reach for it but she pulls it away from you, trying not to laugh.
So you do what you know is the best solution, you call his name, practically screaming it. "Val!"
At the sound of you using your voice he whips his head around. The air goes still, you can tell from the way she pauses. Her pause is only for a second, she reeks of hesitance and sudden worry. She looks at the hearing aid in her hand as if she's finally realizing what she had done and what was about to happen.
Before she can say another word, her entire body stiffs, her eyes widen before her pupils roll back. And then she's on the floor, almost falling onto you.
You wipe blood from your cheek and groan.
Val stares at you, his expression unreadable. In his hand is his jeweled gun. He pauses for a moment to take a long drag of his cigarette, letting out a cloud of red smoke before he looks at his gun with a toothy smile until he tucks it back into his belt.
He starts to approach you and for a second you're scared, it was a primal feeling. He walked like a king.
All you can do is watch him, frozen in place.
The first thing he does when he reaches you is bend in front of her body, plucking the hearing aid from her hand. It's bloody, the liquid drips from it as he lifts it up. He wipes some of it off on his shirt before handing it to you. He drops it into your open hands.
He speaks, knowing you'd have a hard time understanding. "Laying her slutty hands on my angel..."
You lean into his touch when he caresses your face. His eyes gaze at you, softening, his smile widening at how soft your eyes look. You're his greatest treasure. He gets off immensely from protecting you, he would ravish you to death in this moment if he could. Valentinos eyes drift down at the body and his pupils narrows as he glares at the dead woman. He's going to have to clean this up. Her blood is getting every where.
One of his thumbs rub against your cheek, touching the bloody smear. It stains your skin in a delectable way. So perfect.
He melts when he sees your soft eyes slowly start to match the mischievous smile growing on your face. He protected you and he was open about being dithered over her behavior, he didn't laugh at it or tease you about it. You don't doubt for an instant that he's the man of your dreams. He killed someone for you in an instant.
When you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking the blood, his spine straightens. He pulls away immediately and turns around, yelling at the his workers that filming will be cut short today.
He just can't wait any longer to spend some lovely time with you.
#hazbin hotel#vox x reader#x reader#deaf community#x deaf reader#x deaf s/o#velvette x reader#valentino x reader#velvette hazbin hotel#valentino hazbin hotel
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not her
pt4
warnings: swearing, smut, kissing, fingering, teasing, mouth covering (idfk), backshots/doggy (guys whats the difference??), slight praising, overthinking ig (?), js smut bc this chap was alr rllyyyy long and next chap will have everything (drama and other things I cant remeber)
taglist
a/n: i am sorry guys
PREVIOUS CHAPTER ~~~ NEXT CHAPTER
~
“please fuck me, matt, please”
that exact day, when matt left the janitors closet he left school entirely, how was he supposed to still attend school after breaking up with his girlfriend? he wasnt even sure if she was going to stay at school, but he’d rather go home then stay and see her at lunch and free periods.
he opened his bedroom door and shut it behind himself, locking the door and walking to his bed.
he collapsed onto it, finding the mattress to be a comfort for him, like the hug he needed.
of course he still felt horrible for breaking up with his girlfriend, she was his girlfriend. despite the fact he hung out with amelia more than her, he just didnt understand why y/n had to make it such a big deal that he had a girl friend and wanted to hang out with her. she just had to be so clingy, and absolutely destroy their relatonship.
what broke him more was that she was still clingy even after she went and kissed other men, more than once. she still wanted to hang out with him even after she offered herself up for other men. he wasnt sure if that was a good thing or not, but what truly mattered was that she cheated, and still had the audacity to want him.
it doesn’t matter, he told himself. you have amelia, he reminded himself. a small grin fighting its way onto his face at the thought of her, completely forgetting about y/n.
he knew he could trust amelia not to go to some other men and replace him so easily.
he knew amelia actually liked him for him.
~
matt laid in his bed, his eyes staring at the ceiling. his bed felt cold and empty, not how it usually did on the weekends. the blankets under his body didnt provide any warmth, it only laid under him with a presence, not living up to its purpose.
the pillow rested under his head didnt feel comfortable, his pillow was stiff and uncomfortable under his head, not sinking into the form of his head and providing a comfortable rest like it normally did, the usually soft fabric was now itchy against him. all it did was lay, lay and lay only, no comfort whatsoever.
the hug of his mattress didnt sink in when he rested in it, it stayed stiff and flat. not providing a soothe of peace to the ache in his muscles. it felt cold and empty—even with him in it.
normally his bed was a comforting and a safe haven, he didnt understand why it wasnt the same now, what changed?
he laid uncomfortably on his bed, before he realized something.
normally y/n would sleepover on the weekends, and now that they werent together anymore.. he was alone, and he wasnt used to it, speaking of how they were together for two years and she’d been doing it almost every weekend.
he told himself, it wasnt that he missed y/n, he missed feeling another person in his bed with him.
before he could double think it, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and tapped messages, pressing amelia’s contact and typing out a message.
‘hey!! did you want to come over tonight?’
~
there she stood, in his bedroom, beside him with tiny little pj’s on—which, she’d done on purpose.
she purposefully put on a pair of short shorts, ones that just barely showed the bottom of her ass, but, if she were to bend over, it’d be a whole different story.
amelia made sure that when she walked to take a seat onto matts bed, that she’d sway her hips just a teensy bit to tease him, and of course, to flaunt her ass to him, like I said, tease him.
she took a seat and pulled her legs into criss cross applesauce, her shorts exposing her inner thighs, matt found himself staring with absolutely no hesitation, curious on what was further past her shorts. her shirt did not help at all, he only wanted to tear off her slightly too tight shirt, showing her perky tits perfectly.
he cleared his throat, already feeling himself go semi-hard, he laid onto the bed next to her, crossing his legs and sticking his hand into his pocket and fisting his hand, attempting to make his pants a little looser around his cock, hiding his forming boner.
he looked over at her, patting the spot next to him with a warm smile on his face.
“wanna watch something?” he asked, watching as she very confidently crawled over to him and laid down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder with a hum.
“sure! I have a movie in mind—well, movies, its a movie series,” amelia looked up at him, her face a little too close to his face.
“its called after.” she grabbed the tv remote resting in matts hand, over his lap. with grabbing it, she purposefully touched his dick with pressure, immediately matts body had a reaction, a grunt leaving his throat and his dick going fully hard.
“are you okay?” amelia asked, her nose scrunched with confusion, fake confusion, anything to get matt to believe it was an accident.
“y- yeah..” he took in a breath, calming his composure “just turn the movie on.” he closed his eyes momentarily, trying to think of the grossest things on planet earth to subside his boner and the touch that definitely didn’t help.
he opened his eyes again, seeing that amelia had already turned on the movie and was getting comfy in her spot, shifting her body over some and pressing her back into matt’s side, laying her head more comfortably in his shoulder.
amelia knew what this movie consisted of, that’s why she turned it on, it was apart of her plan, her plan being
1. come over in small pjs
2. tease and touch him
3. turn on a sex movie
4. make more teasing touches and fuck him, or, more preferably have him fuck her into oblivion.
and now, all she’d had to do was fuck him, which, wouldn’t be so hard, he’s already rock hard and drinking in the sight of her revealed skin, her revealed skin so close to the places he desired.
not too long later.. a sex scene popped up, and amelia could feel the heat radiating from matt’s body, she could see his previously softening dick go rock hard so easily again so fast, he looked like an inexperienced horny, teenage boy.
matt’s focus hadn’t been on the movie, not once, not even the second she turned it on. all he could think about was the sight of amelia’s thighs, they looked fucking devourable. he wanted her thighs wrapped around his head. all he could think about was her body and how much he wanted to kiss and suck all over it, her body was mesmerizing. all he wanted was it, he wanted to fuck her so badly, his eyes were on the tv, but mind on her body.
when he heard soft moans and grunts from the tv, his focus immediately snapped to it, his eyes darting around it and taking everything in.
amelia chuckled, “oops, didn’t know this was gonna be in here.” she mumbled.
matt shook his head, “yes you did, you fucking whore.” his voice was low, grabbing her waist and flipping them over, he was on top of her now, staring into her eyes with a lustful look in them, the blue completely gone and replaced with black. he dipped his head down, connecting their lips with a slow but passionate kiss full of tongue.
that’s what amelia wished matt had done when she said that, but he didn’t, only, his breathing went erotic and his hand slipped to her thigh, holding the one closest to him and his grip tightening ever so slightly.
amelia, purposelly, whimpered.
and that was the last straw for matt. he moved his hand from her thigh and turned his head to her, cupping her cheek, forcefully turning her head to his and attaching their lips in a needy and desperate kiss.
matt moved to pinning amelia to the bed, his own body ontop of hers, his one hand keeping her hip pinned to the bed with a tight force while his other hand slowly traveled from the ball of her jaw to her throat, holding it and ever so slightly, tightening his hold every few seconds.
he pushed his tongue between her lips, forcefully shoving his tongue into her mouth, exploring every inch of her mouth with a passion burning in his stomach.
he used his knee to spread her legs and situate his hips between her legs, grinding his crotch into hers, earning a high pitched moan from amelia.
amelia wrapped her legs around matts waist, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth before she pulled away, “please fuck me, matt, please” she begged, arching her back off the bed.
matt dipped his head down into amelias neck, pressing wet and sloppy kisses all across it, stopping every few moments to suck a deep mark into the senstive skin.
“hang on baby, be patient f’me” he mumbled against her skin, biting lightly onto one of the marks, definitely leaving a deep purple mark for later.
he rubbed her hips before trailing his hand down to her shorts, slipping his hand into her panties and rubbing circles onto her clit, eliciting a moan from amelia.
“matt-“ amelia moaned, rolling her eyes back as his fingers slid to her entrance, slicking it in her wetness before slowly dipping his finger into her entrance, amelia could feel a smirk forming on his lips from them pressing against her throat.
he slid the rest of his finger inside of her, earning a shriek and a loud moan from her, his free hand covered her mouth, whispering against her throat “quiet amelia, we dont want my brothers hearing you, do we?”
he pumped his finger continuously before adding another finger, hearing a muffled sound from amelias mouth, lifting his head from her neck to look at her, the sight only adding onto his ego, her eyes rolled back, her normally pink cheeks a dark red and her orange hair on its way to becoming messy.
he curled his fingers, hitting her g-spot effortlessly, another loud, muffled moan slid from amelia’s throat.
a knot formed in amelias lower abdomen, tightening with every pump and curl of matts fingers.
“‘m close, matty!” she whined from his hand, arching her back, she clenched around his fingers. pushing her hips downwards in an attempt to god-knows-what.
matts thumb curved up and rubbed circles on her clit, reaching her higher to her climax.
he thrusted his finger out once more, before thrusting back in and biting harshly down onto her throat, causing amelia to cum on his fingers with a loud and thankfully muffled moan.
“mmm, good girl” matt praised, pulling his fingers out from amelia and bringing them up to his lips, licking them clean before going back to amelia’s shorts, pulling them off by the hem, then pulling his own sweatpants and boxers down quickly.
he grabbed amelia’s hips, flipping her over onto her belly, “get on your hands and knees” he mumbled, rubbing her back with one hand while his other was at the base of his cock, jacking himself off to ease the throbbing pain.
amelia obligated, pulling her weak legs to be propped on their knees and her palms down, holding herself up, waiting in anticipation for matt to stuff her full.
matt ran his tip through her folds, collecting her wetness before guiding it to her entrance, sliding in slowly, attempting to ease the small burning sensation amelia was most likely experincing, the earlier stretch of his fingers doing nothing.
once bottomed out, matt groaned, grabbing both her hips to ensure she would stay in place and to stabilize himself.
he pulled almost all the way out, before slamming back in, giving amelia no mercy at all.
he continously slammed his hips in and out of her, creating a rough pace that made him feel good—hes not sure he was exactly focusing on amelia’s pleasure.
he wasnt stupid, he knew why he turned amelia around, hes really only ever seeked sex with y/n, and now that she wasnt the one he was fucking, he felt a pang of guilt in his chest. he didnt want to look in amelia’s eyes and find that they arent y/ns. he’d only want to see y/ns in such a vulnerable moment.
only to feel her in such a vulnerable moment, but he didnt have her so he had to improvise.
thats why he really wasnt sure if he cared if amelia was feeling good, a part of him knew he really only cared if he made y/n feel good.
he shook his head, ridding the thoughts of y/n, hes balls deep in amelia, thinking about his ex-girlfriend is not the time.
he fucked into amelia’s cunt again, the pleasure sub-siding as his thoughts began to overbear it all.
what if amelia was a mistake?
what if amelia thinks after this hookup, they’re together?
what if he regrets breaking up with her for the rest of his life?
what if, when he realizes how much y/n actually was apart of him, its too late to go back?
what if he still loves y/n? he still does, he just hasnt realized it himself yet
what if he’ll never forgive himself for fucking amelia and ditching y/n for a random redhead?
oh my god. he ditched the love of his life for some random ass redhead.
his breathing began to go unsteady, but not because of his thrusting, but because of his overriding thoughts.
it took everything in him to stop the thoughts and keep them low, trying to focus on the main point here. cumming and cumming only, not to think about his ex girlfriend.
why would he even want to think about his girlfriend? she cheated on him and was a needy ass clingy bitch.
it physically pained him to think that last part, y/n wasnt a ‘needy ass clingy bitch’ and he knew it. he knew y/n only wanted his love and attention and she wasnt receiveing it, she had to ask and argue for it.
but no, his dumbass was so entranced by some random girl that he completely dumped his special girl.
no, no, he shouldnt be think this. y/n isnt his special girl, she cheated on him.
she cheated
she cheated
she cheated
he had to chant it to himself in his head to actually try and get himself to believe it, but why couldnt he? he trusted amelia’s word did he?, but-
“matt, mmfff fuckk! ‘m gonna cum! ‘m gonna cum!” amelia moaned, bringing matt back to what he was doing.
he closed his eyes momentarily, taking in a few pants before opening his eyes again and bringing himself back to the main point of this interaction.
he reached his hand around amelia’s hip to rub circles on her clit, urging her to her climax.
“cmon, pretty girl, ya gonna cum all over my cock?” he taunted, pulling out, before pushing in and staying inside for a moment, before pulling abrubtly back out.
matts hand moved from her clit, sliding his hand under her shirt to her nipple, pinching at it and stimulating it, with a loud moan, amelia came, her climax taking a huge toll on her, her eyesight going blurry and her elbows buckling on her.
matt grunted, feeling his own climax approaching, he pulled out, pumping himself a few times before shooting his load onto her lower back. subtly making it seem like thats where he wanted it to be in the moment, but truthfully, he didnt want to cum in her at all. that was meant for y/n, not amelia. he didnt want his cum, not inside his special girl.
amelia collasped onto the bed, resting her weak sore elbows and knees, taking in huge breaths and exhaling huge breaths, attempting to recover from the moment.
matt walked to his bathroom, grabbing a wet, warm washcloth and cleaning himself off before rinsing the cloth off again.
he pulled his boxers and pants up again. his eyes looked up into the mirror, where his reflection stared back at him, a disappointed look in his own eyes—towards himself.
he closed his eyes, walking out of the bathroom with the cloth in hand. opening his eyes again he crouched infront of amelia, cleaning her back before grabbing her waist he gently flipped her over onto her back and spread her legs, cleaning her up, his hands gently pulled her panties and shorts back up, then threw the dirty cloth in his laundry basket.
he laid in bed next to the already sleeping amelia, he stared up at the ceiling, folding his hands over his chest while he thought,
thought about how disappointing he was with himself and how he didnt even enjoy himself during his sex with amelia, he felt bad but he felt worse for himself. realizing that amelia would never be y/n, she’d never be similar to y/n.
why would he break up with her? did he really trust amelia’s word or did he just want an excuse to not want y/n anymore.
why did he do that?
amelia isnt y/n, she never was. y/n is his special girl, only y/n.
2940 words
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[ EctoberHaunt 2024 Banner ]
Hi hiii~ I get to draw the banner again for @ectoberhaunt this year~ It was a lot of fun :DD
I wasn't sure how to incorporate the gold and silver at first but I think it turn out pretty good
Also thank you to Enn for helping me with the flats I would've pewished ksjadnaksj Sketches and some ramblings under cut
Here's the initial sketch for the banner. I tried my best to keep it close to the sketch or at least have the same energy (hopefully qwq)
As you can see, I drew Sam and Tucker riding a scooter bike originally. But the banner, I try to get as close to canon design as possible. I could not for the live of me remember what episode has the scooter bike. And.. turns out I might've just misremembered the scooter as a motor bike? so I just draw the scooter lol
(This is from the Killer Garage Sale episode btw. I couldn't find the scooter's pict on the wiki so I gotta screenshot it from the episode)
Also speaking of couldn't find reference pictures in the fandom wiki,
I couldn't find pictures of the college trio full body screenshots there. Only the Vlad leaning into the portal while Maddie and Jack looked away. Very useful references, yes.
I used to think that Jack was the worst one here about lab safety (considering he was the main reason the portal exploded on Vlad's face), but Maddie is no better after watching the episode again. Girlie wear big round earrings and leg warmers in the lab. Pretty sure that's... not very safety. Vlad is not better since he does lean very close into the radiation portal so... lol
Anyway, I tried to incorporate their dynamics in the banner. Jack the very excited one and leading the ghost hunt, Maddie following along with more ghost gears, and Vlad... well, I was thinking Vlad could be the 'rational' of the trio and like brings stuffs the other two wouldn't have thought to bring out of excitement (i.e. flashlights in case they need to go through pitch black tunnel so they don't fall off etc etc)
But... you know, that's giving Vlad too many points than he deserves lol. So, I draw Vlad still bringing the bag of extra stuffs, but it's not fully closed so some stuffs fell off on their trails. They all should share braincells and Vlad does not get a turn lol
Also changed Maddie's clothes and give her the teal suit to match Jack and also looks better when she's running
There's not much I can say about the main trio process? I mostly just want Sam to be the one driving the scooter while Tucker handles the navigations or sth. They get to ride scooters to catch up with Danny~
Danny and Tucker's colors a bit ashy bc I color picked them from low res screenshots askjdnaksj I fixed em on the final tho so yea
O yeah, I don't know if it's visible on the final art, but I initially try to give the kids warm shadings and cold lighting (Silver), and the college trio cold shadows and warm lighting (Gold) to fit the themes.
Also the light source.. sorta? The adults has the light source from behind them bc they are in past/past the age in the drawings? And the kids has their light source from in front of them, going into the future and the many things ahead of them kajsdnaksd
#13thcat art#13thdoodle#danny phantom#sam manson#tucker foley#jack fenton#maddie fenton#vlad plasmius
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The first time I read Dungeon Meshi I was like “I love all these characters but Mithrun is hands down my favorite, it’s been a long time since I went this feral for a fictional character.” And like. That’s still true. I still absolutely adore Mithrun and he’s extremely important to me and his character arc is so beautiful and also I want to kiss him. BUT.
I’m not gonna lie, the way that like 85% of western fans either ignore Toshiro or straight up dislike him is turning me into a Shuro stan from the sheer injustice of it all.
He should get more love. He’s wonderful. It’s a little tricky to get a read on him initially but once you learn more about him he’s such an interesting character with so much going on under the surface. He seems like the stereotypical Stoic Eastern Warrior type, but it’s only because he’s using that stoicism to hide his shyness and uncertainty and fear of doing or saying the wrong thing. (And honestly, if you really thought Ryoko Kui of all people would write such a flat stereotype of a character you haven’t been paying attention). By the end of the series it’s shown that despite his issues Toshiro is a good and kind person beneath the impassive noble facade he’s been taught to put up his whole life.
And! He’s such a perfect character foil for Laios! Because they both struggle socially (personally I think Toshiro is also autistic, like Laios, but I’ll probably make a separate post abt that bc this one is already getting long), but in ways that contrast each other. This brings them into conflict when at their core they both crave the same thing: a deep connection with their peers that they’ve struggled to find their entire lives. They’re two sides of the same coin, at opposite ends of the spectrum of outward responses to a very similar internal experience. It’s really well done, as is, like, every character/relationship in DM.
Anyway if no one else is gonna ride or die for Nakamoto Toshiro then I will, god damn. I have to do everything myself around here.
#dungeon meshi#toshiro nakamoto#shuro#toshiro nakamoto dungeon meshi#shuro dungeon meshi#nakamoto toshiro#nakamoto toshiro dungeon meshi#(also i do realize that he has other die hard fans im not trying to act like im the first person ever to love him or anything)#(that last bit is just me being hyperbolic for the lols)
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the soft tender way essek talks abt caleb like.
campaign 2 episode 90
when jester asks him about himself he takes a pause, seems to contemplate what to say, before shaking his head and answering:
There's a waver to his voice before he seems to harden and his facial expressions are very dismissive and a bit sarcastic.
The episode ends shortly after this, and at the start of the next one is when Essek comes over for dinner. So IMO this moment Essek is debating whether to open up to M9, initially brushes them off, then thinks about it & changes his mind.
episode 91 we have this exchange:
he doesn't elaborate. he's completely flat & unemotional. he changes the subject by asking to sit as soon as he can.
yasha asks abt him and he does the same thing
noteably there's a long pause after ashley's question, at which point sam & travis chime in where essek's eyes are literally darting around and he's clearly uncomfortable, and that's when caduceus interrupts.
deep breath, nervous chuckle, crosses his arms and looks down before answering
jester asks why he changed his mind
he's making eye contact during this part, casual, & expressing mild frustration but still calm
there's a pause between this line & the next where he looks down and does this:
at this part he doesn't make eye contact until halfway through and only maintains it for a few seconds as a time
deep breath, does this again:
then looks up and says as quickly as possible:
head bowed, speaks into his lap
another pause, a look of clear confusion on his face before shaking his head
after caleb gives him a dunamancy potion in repayment for his help:
same hands folded head bowed posture as before
the whole conversation, he DOES NOT offer up information without being asked directly, usually multiple times. he deflects by talking abt his position, and whenever he decides to be vulnerable or reference the actual reasons for his visit (his loneliness & feelings of kinship) he looks away & braces himself. imo any time he admits to his loneliness his posture reads "ashamed." particularly when jester asks if he lives alone; i don't see a reason for him to look down & hunch his shoulders if he didn't feel like he was admitting to some personal failure (either bc he lives alone, or bc it shouldn't bother him as much as it does). there's also, of course, his newfound guilt at having betrayed m9 and being unable to walk it back.
compare that with cr3; while in the smut shop he deflects BH's attempts to learn about him, but that night he not only answers their questions without resistance but actively offers up more information.
he tells them abt his connections to ludinus, he tells them he's partially responsible for the current state of the world despite having every reason not to, he tells them abt his friends & his partner. he admits to his past faults openly & with little hesitation. he breaks eye contact briefly when talking abt ludinus etc. but never for long, and never in the same way, shoulders hunched, head down, hiding behind his hands.
the only time he seems to experience anything resembling shame or embarrassment is when he gets flustered admitting to wanting to message his partner before he sleeps.
i didn't mean to go through every single part of cr2ep91 where m9 ask about essek's personal life, but i did bc it was fascinating. when essek spoke to m9, he very much does not want to talk abt himself. the few things he does share say that he's very solitary & the few relationships he mentions are not close. any time he feels pressed to admit his true feelings, he feels ashamed and struggles to do so.
i imagine to essek in cr2ep91, he couldn't even imagine having a partner that he'd want to speak abt the way he speaks abt caleb. the idea of a version of him who has a life he wants to talk abt and share is absurd. but in cr3, for all his faults & mistakes he's made, he does, he wants to talk abt his partner & friends & the things he's learned. he has a life he wants to share bc it brings him joy.
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I Believe You
pairing: lo’ak x older sister!reader
genre: angstish, fluff, & comfort (from reader to lo’ak)
word count: 1.7k+
warning(s): sad!lo’ak, mentions of jake scolding + punishing lo’ak, lo’ak crying, reader being the best big sis fr, lo’ak is a total big sister boy, cursing, & sibling bonding
request details: here!
taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @goodiesinthecloset21 @optimisticblazetrash @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @minkyungseokie @liyahsocorro @universal-s1ut @amortencjja @arminsgfloll @blushhpeachh @sweetirilly @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @bambisposts-blogs (requested the plot! <3)
word bank: toruk makto — rider of last shadow, tawtute — human; sky person, & tulkun — whale like creature residing in awa’atlu
note: was originally titled “my baby bro” but then i came up with this plot & trashed my original idea bc i felt like i could write this better & actually have motivation to write this :).
Lo’ak is known for getting in trouble. Either his loud mouth or actions, mostly both, got him into scuffles with his parents. This time was no different.
He had bonded with Payakan, a tulkun who was outcasted for something that any other being would do when forced to see their Mother be killed in front of them. In Lo’ak’s eyes, Payakan’s actions were driven by his sadness and were justifiable to a point. He knew how much the creature regretted the lives lost that day. If the same thing were to happen to him, Lo’ak would react the same way.
He felt understood by Payakan. They both had a significant physical difference from the rest of their species, making them feel isolated and alone in the large planet of Pandora. Made them feel judged and ridiculed for being different from the rest.
Not even thirty minutes prior, Lo’ak got chewed out by his Father, scolding him for talking back to the Olo’eyktan and doing something he, yet again, shouldn’t be doing. His Father never failed to make him feel like the black sheep of the family even though they are more alike than he’d hoped. It sucked. It really did. He just wanted people to see him. See all of him, even the messed up and alien parts of him.
One person only came to mind when he thought about people seeing and accepting him for who he is. You.
You were the eldest daughter of the Sully family. The token child. The perfect image of what a Na’vi should look like. The one that carried the burden of being Tsahìk or Olo’eykte one day. The one who, despite all the push back, saw Lo’ak for who he is.
You absolutely adored Lo’ak when you were younger, only being around the age of four when he was born. You refused to let your parents pry him away from your tiny arms when you held him way longer than you should’ve. You loved holding him and talking to him in the baby voice your Father always did to you and your other siblings, gently running a small finger down the flat bridge of his nose. You loved singing him to sleep or rocking him whenever he began to fuss, dropping everything to come and comfort your baby brother. And even though he is all grown up and is ‘too cool’ for your affections, you still give it to him anyway.
Not like the teen boy would ever admit it, but he loves whenever you’d rub his back when he didn’t feel good, rebraid his hair when it outgrew the current braids, hug him a little too long after a scouting mission, and especially when you’d pat the empty side of your mat for him to lay down on, comforting him with your warm embrace as he dozed off into a peaceful slumber. When he was younger, he was much more greedy with your attention and affections, pouting to you whenever you gave Neteyam or Kiri an extra kiss goodnight or fussing when you didn’t say your usual goodbye before heading off to train for the day. Lo’ak was practically attached to your hip throughout his adolescence years, clinging to your leg wherever you went. There was always a different connection you and Lo’ak had compared to your other siblings. It was something special and was hard to explain. You just understood one another, no matter how either of you looked or what you went through.
“What’s wrong, baby bro?” Your voice asked, concern laced in your voice.
Of course you knew what was wrong. You practically heard the whole thing from the other side of the island. It didn’t take long for Tuk to inform you of what happened when you arrived home either, sadness written on her face as she told you the story and how they haven’t seen Lo’ak since then.
You found him minutes after your interaction with Tuktirey. He was sitting on the beach, staring off into the horizon as the waves lazily lapped at his feet, legs brought up to his chest as his chin rested on his scarred knees.
“Nothing,” Lo’ak mumbled, eyes stuck on the eclipsing sun. He refused to look weak in front of others, not wanting to ruin his image as Toruk Makto’s second son, especially if it was someone he looked up to.
You hummed in response, not believing his statement. Lo’ak was unbelievably stubborn, something he got from your Mother. It was a good trait to have at times, but it made it harder to break down the boys walls when they needed breaking. Too stubborn for his own good, you thought, settling yourself next to your brother.
“Sure, and the sky is green,” you replied, smirking at your stupid joke. But Lo’ak only rolled his eyes and huffed your way, bringing his knees closer to his chest.
You always tried to crack a joke or two to make him feel better. It worked at times, usually when he was younger. You hadn’t tried this method in a while, too caught up with running away from your home clan and trying to fit into the Metkayina’s way of life. You hadn’t been able to comfort Lo’ak the past times he got scolded by your Father. Something that you felt sorry for and regretted. You were the eldest Sully child. You felt the need to comfort all of your siblings whenever they needed it. You felt awful for not being there for your youngest brother when he desperately needed it.
“I think what you did back there was stupid,” you started, your words causing Lo’ak’s ears to pin themselves to the sides of his head, “Talking back to the Olo’eyktan was really stupid. Especially in front of the Tsahìk. I mean, she scares the absolute shit out of me.”.
Your words seemed to have an effect on Lo’ak as you heard a small sniffle come from him, signaling that he was going to cry or already was. Your heart dropped at that fact, urging yourself to finish your thoughts.
“But, I think it was also brave,” you add on, turning your head to face Lo’ak, watching his reactions, “I don’t think I could ever do what you did. I’d probably shit my pants before speaking to Tonowari like that. You truly have bigger balls than me, little brother. I also think that it was sick that you bonded with a tulkun. I mean, that’s gotta be like, a record or something! First Omatikaya to ever bond with a tulkun.”.
And before Lo’ak could even utter a word, you wrapped up your thoughts with a final, “Has a nice ring to it: Lo’ak, the Tulkun Rider.”.
Fat tears run down the expanse of Lo’ak’s cheeks, rolling down the skin and onto his neck and chest. He felt so frustrated with his parents and how no one was listening to him about Payakan. How no one cared about what he saw or what he felt when he bonded with the creature. He saw what he saw and felt what he felt. He knew out of any of them the truth about what happened and how much regret Payakan carried around. It wasn’t fair. None of it was.
You gently placed a hand onto your brothers shaking shoulder, bringing him in closer towards your body so he could lean into you. Your four-fingered hand came to grasp his five-fingered hand, thumb rubbing the back of his hand in comfort.
“I’m really sorry that I wasn’t there for you before to comfort you. I should’ve been there for you when you needed me,” you whisper, the hand on his shoulder moving to his head to play with his grown out braids. I’ll have to convince him to let me rebraid them, you thought to yourself, knowing that it won’t take much for him to agree to your request.
“I’m sorry that Dad yelled at you and made you feel the way that you feel. He’s always so harsh on you. It’s not fair,” you added, soothing down his hair as his cries quieted down and softened. “He treats us like soldiers instead of children. He seems to be stuck in his tawtute ways recently,” you continued, shaking your head at the realization.
“For what it’s worth, Lo’ak. I believe you,” you said, causing him to pull away from your figure and to stare up at you in shock.
“You do?” He asked, ears perking back up in interest.
You merely nod, smiling down at your brother, “You’ll have to take me to meet Payakan one day, baby bro.”.
Lo’ak brightly grinned at your words, jumping up to hug you. “You’ll love him, sis! I’ve already told him all about you,” he commented, excitement evident in his voice.
“All good things I hope,” you laugh out, embracing Lo’ak.
Lo’ak only hummed and nodded in response, suddenly tired from all of the crying he did. He reached up a fist to rub his eye, ears flickering back as he did so. You knew he was tired. You could see it all over his face.
“Turn around,” you whispered, gesturing for your brother to turn his body around so his back would be facing you. He obeyed your order, sitting crossed legged as his tail wrapped around his waist and slightly curled at the end, anticipating your next move.
Once you put your fingers in his hair and began to slowly unbraid each braid one by one, a smile creeped onto Lo’ak’s face as he relaxed against your swift and gentle fingers. He missed the times where you would willingly rebraid his hair for him and put beads in his hair that matched the ones in yours. It was nice to have you do something that comforted him when he was child again. It was nice to have you comfort him. It was nice to have you as an older sister.
As time passed and the sky got darker, Neytiri had begun to look for her two missing children, stumbling upon them on the shoreline seated next to each other as they whispered and giggled amongst one another. The Mother of five smiled at the sight before her, heart swelling at the interaction. She knew of the kind of connection you shared, knowing that it ran deep and beyond her understanding as a Mother. She knew that no matter what, you’ll always have each other. Yeah, she thought, he’ll be just fine.
#avatar#atwow imagines#avatar imagine#avatar: the way of water#atwow x reader#avatar x reader#atwow#atwow x you#angst#lo’ak sully x reader#lo’ak imagine#lo’ak x sister!reader#lo’ak sully x you#lo’ak x y/n#lo’ak x reader#lo’ak fluff#lo’ak angst#lo’ak x you#lo’ak sully
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gotta urgent need for some not-quite-yet punkflower where hobie is chillin in some rubble post-(successful) battle all knackered out n miles is visiting (idk bc he just told his parents abt spiderman n it went well so he's bursting at the seems with love at being accepted n all yea? he's gotta tell someone, and why not him? why not hobie? it's no one else but hobie he's gotta tell, if he's being honest with himself [denile is not a river in his egypt, ok pav?] so yeah, he finds himself on 138) n catches the tail end of the battle, tracks down where hobie decided to make a couch outta concrete and lands in front of him, buzzing with cheezy lovey dovey feelins of elation, top o' the fucken world, and asks on abt hobie, rambling until hobie just lifts a hand, a silent ask for help up, (always asking for connection always makin sure they're actually there) n miles, have i mentioned he's happy? he's straight up a sap, so he takes that hand.
he takes that hand gently, bending at the waist a bit, dramatically sweeping back his other arm, bowing, for hell's sake, n plants a kiss on the back of hobie's hand, nice n proper, with a cheeky wink to boot (he'd finally fixed the eye mechanisms last week, thanks to penny), before pulling up new london's own spiderman chest to chest with a bright laugh that puts a different kind of stars in hobie's eyes, half dancing half belting out a song in spanish he doesn't quite understand but knows all the words to (it's some continental dialect, nothing his mami speaks, but would filter out the headphones of that kid in his building he walked w in middle school everyday)
before the sirens start getting closer n hobie can feel the warmth of miles-- the warmth of his smile, his hair that's still sparking from transdimensional travel, his arms, chest, laughter, everything, n all at once it pulls every affectionate n pining bit of hobie to the surface, if he weren't wearing his mask his blush would be so impossibly visible it's straight mad how much hobie loves n adores miles, how much seeing miles be happy lights hobie's whole fucking world
and oh, hobie's never seen a god he didn't punch, never believed in any one he couldn't, but right now, with his fingers entwined with miles', aches leaving his bones like he's never felt his left shoulder twinge the second it drops below 21 just because miles just yelled fuck off to the approaching pigs, he could fall to his knees n swear pious fealty to milesmilesmiles.
but hobie is cool (never has a label stuck to him like the one miles has given him), and his real, livin n breathing god is starting to ramble, so hobie webs them upupup, heat along his back as god wraps arms around him, breath on his neck as home weaves tales into the leather wrapping it.
then miles hears hobie's stomach growl, so he starts pulling them away from the path of what he knows is towards hobie's flat, and towards what he swears is the only good puerto rican food in the whole of hobie's haunt, his excitement steamrolling over his usual stuttering spanish, exchanging shouts n jeers with everyone behind the counter
bc everyone knows him, like miles has lived here, earth-138, new london, his whole life, like hobie brown being dragged into the shop every other week by miles morales to get the same two plates (n an extra something for miles to gush over n hobie to taste) is how the rest of this life will go, like hobie n miles are together, in a way that the unsubtle looks the owner's kid at the register is aiming at miles' left hand are correct, but don't involve stuffy socially religious systems like marriage
but they're not, as much as hobie would love to kiss miles, gaze into his eyes for ages, hear his laughter, his off-key singing, his scritch-scritch of something on paper everyday-- bc he can't go abt this like he does everyone else, can't do it with half a foot out the door n a shrug as agreed; it's gotta be both feet on the floor, n it's gotta be for the rest of this life, so he'll take what he can get, and he'll take the distance n devotion, take the faith n the heartache. take what he can get from his god, glad to be touched by his god, glad to be loved by his god, across universes n the fall from his bed to the futon on the floor where miles decides to lay his head for choice holy nights
(hobie doesn't know miles is putting himself at the base of his god's shrine, hoping for his deity to fall into his arms, spikes n all, (ready, so ready to tear apart dimensions again for hobie, to bleed and cry n go to war for hobie) fingers splaying on the side of the mattress warmwarmwarm after hobie starts snoring, before they slip down softly, a prayer imparting from the pads, memorizing the patterns of his god's breath, the smell of the room, the borrowed shirt he wears, the sounds of a second city he calls home, thrumming full with a bass note plucked from an electric guitar, usually shaky hands sure n still picking out a different shape to hobie's eyebrow piercing, deftly screwing a star onto the bar. miles brings offerings to his god in pins n patches on clothing, stickers n torn out sketches decorating a shrine)
so they'll song n dance in new york, in new london; learning each other's cities, earths, haunts, people, arts, each other, like new scars for the collection- permanent and signs of living, odes to loving and protecting.
chest to chest, fingers entwined, warmth in the skies above cities, right on the edge of it all until they fall together, eyes wide open, gods broken down into blood and teeth and lovelovelove
not-quite-yet 2 - 3
. my ko-fi 💛
ao3 link
#flowerpunk#punkflower#i'm havging some major fucking brainrot apparently#look i've been listening to lets fall in love for tonight all day while reading flowerpunk fics#spiderverse#fishy write the fucking fic already challenge#hobie x miles#miles x hobie#yeah no yeah i'm goin fuckin bonkers over them apparently#the fic mutualism altered my brain chemistry for fucking real#fishy's bubbles#this got so fucking long my brother watched two episodes of the bear while i lost my shit over them#all i was gonna come on tumblr for was to say that i will probably get a lip ring bc i've always wanted to but instead i wrote this#not-quite-yet#nqy 1
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Yeah its so weird. People act as if the reason dan left and the issue dnp had with privacy was that people shipped them and wrote fanfic. Outside of like 2011/12 when dan had a (in his own recount) freakout because people were clocking him, they did not give a fuck at any point about the shipping or the theories. That is clearer now than ever, as they have a whole tour based around it and are actively encouraging it because they find it funny. What they did care about was when people reached out to their friends and family, harrasing those peoples social medias, because they didnt choose to put themselves on the internet, dnp did. What they did care about was the fact that apparently some fans figured out where they lived and used that info to go to their first flat in london and knock on the door to talk to them. Like. Thats invading privacy. Looking at a twitter account that was and has been public for 15 years, and cross matching it with things that have been publicly said and posted is not breachibg privacy? Thats? Not the same thing???
lmao thank you lmao like? I'm convinced that anytime someone says "this is giving demon phannie we are going back to 2014 and they're gonna leave again" they were not actually here for that era bc like 😭😭 d&p have been clear they dgaf about theories, espc recently. ppl just have no media literacy when it comes to what dan said in BIG
but honestly even if ppl still don't like the research I honestly don't care they have the right to not like it, what actually pissed me off the most was that the ppl who were talking shit seemed to be operating under the assumption that the dan being philslion theory existed for forever, then d&p denied it so I came along and decided to disprove what they said after the fact. which is just not fucking what happened like the doc IS the theory. basically no one was saying it was dan before I posted all the proof, no one would have asked them about it if it wasn't for my posts 😭 if you're gonna shit talk me go ahead but at least have your facts straight first, it takes .5 seconds to see the dates I posted everything like lol
#seems to be a theme in my life rn one of my friends made me cry last weekend bc she was making baseless assumptions that I was#being completely selfish towards our other friend and as soon as I was like 'that's not what happened' she was like 'omg im so sorry I didn#have all the info' GIRL THEN WHY WOULDNT U JUST ASK ME???? RATHER THAN ASSUMING I FUCKING SUCK?#im sorry that's so off topic from this anyway#guys also the person who called me crazy is literally mutuals w/ me on twitter and they didnt even unfollow me 😭 like what#ask#anon#d&p#dan and phil#phan#philslion
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