#not even talking about my job itself. that i can do very well thank you but they keep asking me for idk extra stuff?
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strxnged · 2 days ago
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yayyy thank you aly!! i'm so glad the mooties are making these i have a ball making them and reading everyone's
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hi! i'm june (they/them).
Q: What’s something you’re really passionate about, and how did you discover it?
A: i'm passionate about psychological research! i sort of stumbled upon it by fluke... i was into psyc (like most people are) because it's sort of just interesting to talk about, but then i was quite sure i didn't want a mental health-related job. then, i realized the part of psyc that really interests me is the epistemology of psychology—how do we know what we know? how do we do rigorous research that we can actually apply? i just love reading research papers and thinking about research design and hurting my brain over it all, it's my fav
Q: What’s your favorite way to spend a weekend or free time?
A: i love to do little outings on the weekend + going to a local cafe, bookstore, thrift store, antique store, or library with my boyfriend. it's a nice way to destress without even having the option of trying to do something productive.
Q: What’s a piece of advice or a quote that has stuck with you over the years?
A: not to be basic, but in lotr, gandalf says to a very frightened ring-bearer, "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us." and that's a quote that has both meaning to me in regards to how i view the world and other people, as well as how i orient myself to each moment of my own life.
Q: What’s your go-to comfort food or drink when you’re feeling down? (Bonus points if you can give a recipe)
A: my go-to comfort drink? black coffee. i will not give a recipe i hope you guys can figure it out on your own if you're interested. (note: i use a french press and locally roasted beans)
Q: What’s the most meaningful gift you’ve ever given or received
A: a while back, a friend gave me a little guitar charm which i put on a chain and have worn around my neck nearly every day since. i haven't really seen that friend in quite some time, but the gift itself is still immensely meaningful to me.
tagging the irls today! : @beingsuneone @saturns-belt @howdyfriend :) miss u guys
anyone else may of course join i love to learn about people!!!!
Tag Game!!
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I thought it'd be fun to make a tag game for everyone, so here's my version!!
alongside this picrew, and 2 pictures you think describes you, answer some questions about yourself.
What’s something you’re really passionate about, and how did you discover it?
What’s your favorite way to spend a weekend or free time?
What’s a piece of advice or a quote that has stuck with you over the years?
What’s your go-to comfort food or drink when you’re feeling down? (Bonus points if you can give a recipe)
What’s the most meaningful gift you’ve ever given or received
Bonus: What’s a random fun fact about yourself that most people don’t know?
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i'll go first
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I'm Alyssa!
What’s something you’re really passionate about, and how did you discover it?
Mythology! I've been super into mythology in general since I was in middle school, and i can just talk about it for hours. I first discovered it when my friend forced me to read Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson series, and it spiraled from there.
What’s your favorite way to spend a weekend or free time?
Most of the time I have to take extra classes during weekends, but other than that I read whenever I can! Be it a physical copy, a pdf or even fanfiction I spend most of my time reading. But when I can find some time for myself I either write or make bracelets. Sometimes I work on my ocs' lore with my friend, so it really depends on how busy I am at that moment.
What’s a piece of advice or a quote that has stuck with you over the years?
My mom once told me "If someone isn't willing to value you or your efforts, don't waste your time on them. Don't give your all to people who won't do the same." And while it sounds mean at first, it's actually helped me over the years.
What’s your go-to comfort food or drink when you’re feeling down? (Bonus points if you can give a recipe)
Sütlaç has been one of my top comfort foods for years now. It's a Turkish dessert made with rice, milk and sugar (and cinnamon, honey or nuts if i'm feeling fancy) Though sometimes i make cookies instead!
What’s the most meaningful gift you’ve ever given or received?
I made over 300 paper stars in a sitting for my friend, each star representing a day i'd have known her on her birthday. I chose paper stars because they meant a lot to her. I also got her a (plastic) rose because she told me she thought she'd never get flowers from anyone.
Bonus: What’s a random fun fact about yourself that most people don’t know?
I used to be afraid of dogs when I was younger. The reason was because my granddad had a little dog that loved running around. Whenever we went to visit my grandparents the little thing would chase me around the garden until one of us dropped because of exhaustion. I think this was my first childhood trauma.
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Tagging (no pressure!) : @romaritimeharbor , @kopivie , @ruruumin , @strxnged , @femivi +
@mlkbwunnies , @aureusveill , @milk-violet , @camvrin , @strryskys + anyone who would like to join!
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radiohaunt · 14 days ago
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not me getting called out for not answering my emails properly... again. i completely forget they exist cause everyone uses chat to communicate most of the time and i have like 6 other things i need to keep track of besides doing my actual job. get me out of here i hate corporate
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cardo-de-comer · 1 month ago
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soo helloo and i think it's time for me to explain the deal with my characters and this whole "you're not supposed to be here" thing. EDIT: just fixed some stuff. thank you folks for your support, i really appreciate you all <3
i made these characters way back in june and by today they have a lot of lore around them in my head. i even have a dream to make a game with them but it's just a dream for now so i'm gonna try to explain the main things about this story. Obviously this is a long post, although I tried to keep this stuff short. and excuse me for my writing and any mistakes, I don't usually write this much text.
It starts with the world. Alternate 15th century, humanity is almost gone and what's left of it shares quite a big city with demons and angels. However, demons and angels are usually being treated like servants - eventually one gets tired of it all, so everyone knows an uprising is just around the corner. Let's just ignore that for now.
The City has a catch of it's own - it's alive. The walls have eyes and ears and the City knows every resident by heart and soul, both figuratively and literally. Usually City acts through the King, it chooses protectors for itself, ones who have strong minds to comprehend it - they will be called the royal knights, each of them have a company of a /more wiser than the rest of them/ demon and angel to help with their tasks. Only the King and ten royal knights know that the City is alive and very talkative but they don't understand fully what it's trying to tell them. Most of them choose to ignore the voices in their head because hey, that's what you do usually in this situation, otherwise they drive you nuts.
City is also extremely emotional and appearance depends on its condition. Usually it's a sunny day out and the city looks welcoming, but you don't want to be there when the City is scared: it might eat you alive by accident. Now that the environment is aside, time for the main three characters.
Imri is a young lad who will soon be a royal knight. He actually wanted to be a painter when he grows up but well, you cannot disobey the king's orders. Quite emotionless and a man of a few words, he tries to stay on a neutral ground between good and bad - a perfect candidate for manipulation to all three sides, demons, angels and the City.
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look at him
Royal knights get to know their angel and demon companions at least a week before they get knighted to avoid any misunderstandings. Imri doesn't mind his friends at all, although one of them caused quite a fuss.
Angel /they name themselves Lyra/ is an overly positive, naive and blindly kind entity. A bit childish and very fond of justice, they try to act as a voice of conscience, not understanding that sometimes this can make everything even worse than it was. There is a feeling that they're trickier than it seems but you can never quite tell.
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the latin text all over them is just a part of their design
The demon though... That's not even a demon, that's the Devil himself. Yes, everyone knows who this is, everyone avoids him and he's not supposed to be here at all. Despite being THE Devil, he didn't try to do anything horrific yet and, when he's not joking around, he tries to be the voice of reason, the voice that no one listens to. He seems to know a lot more about this whole world than anyone else but he talks about it only when he wants to.
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no one likes him at all, expect maybe Imri who just tolerates his presence like he always does
That's the main three. There is a few secondary characters, Imri's father being one of them.
sir Jastrab /or just Dell/ is one of the royal knights, he's a bit naive, loyal, and a soul so kind that his demon hung himself. Oh well. He lost one hand in what he calls "a work accident" which is partly true but he never goes into details.
He never wanted for his son to be a part of the knights because he knows by experience that it's not an easy job and not every father wants for their child to go insane from the voices in their head.
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few people said that the angel accompanying him looks like d20 and so be it
The others are Sun and Moon - local deities, despite being on the sky every day and night, usually they don't really care about what's going on down below. You can still talk to them but don't expect much action. Regardless of all this, they are still loved by almost all living things. They can rarely meet each other but humans always depict them together no matter what.
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creators of the Stars - some part of a human soul that i can't talk about :)
Angels and demons come in all forms and sizes but those are the main population - lesser demons resemble the Devil in some ways and lesser angels look like clovers. Rivals usually but when the revolution happens, they learn to tolerate and work with each other. Humanity doesn't really have a chance.
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they hate everyone equally And there is another being, that Imri meets a few times through the story - it's Death. Death is just having fun in this end of the world and there is a lot of work to be done.
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this is an old and rough design so maybe it'll change The whole story begins at that day when Imri is supposed to be knighted. Everything seemed fine until Imri gets to hear the City for the first time and realizes that he hears and sees a lot more than everyone else. Completely overwhelmed he blacks out - even the toughest of minds often can't take it - and wakes up later only to find out that the King got killed somehow, angels and demons saw this as the starting point for a revolution and the City starts to panic.
Now Imri, guided by his companions and the voice of scared City that's crumbling and slowly drives him insane, shall travel to the center of it to find out what really happened, getting through demons and angels who are busy destroying the rest of humanity. Fun.
There is a lot more to this whole thing but I cannot tell the entire plot because spoilers, in case if i actually will make something out of this story. Think of it as a game lore. I'm not sure about making sth yet because i operate only on hopes and dreams and i barely have any strength lately but who knows... But now you have at least some context! And yeah, thank you if you actually read all of this, you're a hero.
Now i need to get back to drawing. Thank you all for your support. <3
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withahappyrefrain · 25 days ago
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could i request jake and meet cute 30 or 38?
I went with 30! Thank you!
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"You need to get laid.”
Jessica’s words almost made you choke on your drink. It shouldn’t be a surprise, considering how much she and the rest of the group talked about tonight being the night to find a hot guy to take home.
“I hope they play Hot to Go,” you stated, ignoring her statement.
She playful shook your shoulder, “C’mon! We all agree it’s time you get back out there! And what better place to do so than here?”
Jessica motioned to the rest of the bar, which was currently full of men and women in uniforms.
“Just because y’all have a uniform kink, doesn’t mean I do too,” you retorted, earning a laugh from the rest of the group.
“Hey, the uniform shows they can make a commitment and they have a steady job. That’s a rarity in itself,” Leah remarked, “Plus, Jess is right. What was the last time you tried speaking to someone?”
You didn’t respond, due to the answer being embarrassing. It had been close to a year since your last break up. Every time the prospect of dating was brought up, you were able to counter it with an excuse. Work is too busy. I have a lot going on. I need time for myself. I want to focus on myself.
“Even if you get their number, you don’t have to text them,” Rosa jumped in, sensing your uneasiness, “It’s more so about putting yourself out there, getting back into the swing of things.”
“Besides, there are so many!” Jess exclaimed, “Like look at….oh wait, nevermind. Guy in glasses is totally Leah’s type. Well then there’s……oh he’s cute too. That one is mine, okay?”
Leah elbowed Jess, bringing her back down to Earth, “We can even help you! If you want,” your more sensible friend offered.
“Yes! We’d love to help you!” Jess grabbed your hand, squeezing it as if to contain her excitement.
“If you want,” Rosa added.
“That’s very nice of y’all. But not tonight, okay?” You hoped your firm statement would deter them from any shenanigans.
It did not.
Jessica was literally dragging guys over to the table to talk to you. Rosa was pulling the “haaaave ya met my friend?” card. The only person who seemed to be having a good time was Leah, who was currently sharing a cup of peanuts with the birth control goggles wearing aviator.
Y’all were going to get kicked out of this bar.
Just one number!
Their words rang in your ears. After Jessica brought over what had to be the sixth pilot, you knew you couldn’t take much more. So without warning, you stood up and darted to the bar, leaving Jessica and whatever his name was.
Just one number. You didn’t even have to flirt, you could explain the situation and get a fake number. That would shut your friends up and you wouldn’t have to text the guy back. A win-win situation for all.
There was a wait at the bar, which gave you the perfect amount of time to scope out someone who would take pity on you.
Then you heard Jessica call your name from across the bar. You had to get this over with quickly.
Tapping on the shoulder of the nearest man, you prayed for sweet relief.
Aw fuck, he was hot.
Of course you picked the reincarnation of Adonis, with his chiseled face and broad chest. The short sleeves of his uniform showed off his strong arms, tying in perfectly with his coiffed blonde hair and stunning green eyes. When he cleared his throat, you were reminded that you had tapped him on the shoulder and this beautiful man was expecting you to speak.
“I'm so sorry, but my friends won't stop bothering me until I get someone's number tonight, it doesn't have to be your real one, I'm just so tired of their shenanigans,” you confessed, motioning towards your group of friends who were now watching you from their table.
“Again, it doesn’t have to be your actual number, I just need-”
“Shouldn’t we make it believable?” There was a twang with his words, revealing a Southern upbringing.
Of course he had a cute accent too. The universe really wanted you to suffer tonight. And of course, all you could do was let out a squeak of confusion.
“So your friends believe it?” He explained, his lips forming into a dangerously charming smirk, “Also, I’ve been hoping for a chance to talk to ya ever since you walked through the door."
“I….I don’t know your name,” was the only thing you could get out. Christ, you were stupid.
He chuckled, though it wasn't malicious, “I'm Jake. Can I buy you a drink before giving you my number?”
"You....actually want my number?" You were in disbelief. There was no fucking way. The universe must be playing a trick on you.
Jake nodded, the smile remaining on his face, "Have wanted it since I heard ya laugh."
Maybe tonight would turn out perfectly fine after all.
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signedkoko · 10 months ago
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MMM OKAY OKAY OKAY the brainrot is getting to me and I adore you’re writing, so forgive me if this a bit all over the place!!
Might I order some headcanons (or a full oneshot, if you want ofc) for Alastor and Vox (separate) with a gn partner who is a martial art fiend and seems mostly powerless, but is sort of like a siren? As in, not only can they put subtle amount of power into their voice when talking to persuade or disorient someone, but they can also do a Banshee type scream!
Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!
Alastor | Vox X Reader [Romantic]
In which your powers aren't all that obvious to the naked eye, and is hidden in your voice. Reader is genderneutral.
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You were just another face at the Hazbin Hotel
You helped with anything Charlie, asked, much like an assistant, and focused plenty on the decoration of the hotel
From what he saw, you really weren't much to be cornered about
That in itself concerned him
Every demon had their abilities, but according to you and the others, you were just a normal sinner
But no normal sinner would end up in a place like this for no reason
Alastor always pushed, joked, and teased you about being powerless, almost as if he were taunting you to reveal the truth—to reveal that all along you'd been lying
But you never broke
Not like he minded all that much; you were still lovely to be around, and you weren't as much of a mess as everyone else that wandered the dreary hotel
Even as the two of you grew closer than close, you never gave so much as a hint
He could tell you had something hidden, but at this point he was convinced it was your past or something else beyond your abilities
Until the day a group of demons attacked, looking for him
You'd never been overly protective of the overlord; Alastor could handle himself and hundreds of others at once if he needed to
But they were threatening the hotel, your friends, and your lover
So you stopped Alastor in his tracks, opening a window by the front door and shoving your front half out
The sound that ensued was nothing short of horrifying
Like thousands of layers of screaming voices begging to be released became unchained, and each individual in front of you collapsed
Some had bleeding ears; others were running in desperation as the chorus of voices continued to echo in their minds
Thankfully, you were a great target, because when you turned around, everyone in the hotel was fine
Well, fine in terms of hearing, but they did not look mentally well
Alastor laughs it off and claps, citing how he obviously knew all along that you were so powerful
You'll be in for a long night of explaining to him everything you were hiding
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You didn't like to show off your ability that much
It was horrifying and could damage a lot of people if you didn't consider your words carefully enough
So you only sang; it held a bit of power behind it, but at the very least it didn't harm anyone
It just caught attention and helped you get through another day in hell
Singing is what led to you meeting Vox, who frequented the club where you sang on some evenings
He hired you to sing at the club the Vees owned, which meant you ran into him a lot more often and got along extremely well
You revealed your ability to him, but swore off ever using it against people unless necessary
What did he care? Ability or not, you did a great job on stage, and that was all he asked of you as a friend and partner
One evening, during one of your performances which he attended, someone broke into the club
They had guns, and they looked ready to shoot
What else could you have done when they beelined towards Vox?
" Die. "
Your voice came through the mic crystal clear, and in a moment everyone holding guns dropped straight to the floor
There was no pulse, and that evening Vox learned a lot more about you than he had previously
When you are finally private and he has the chance to say anything
" Listen, dear, light of my life—that was hot as fuck, but my patrons are scared shitless right now. "
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Author's Note - I love these two, they are too cocky to have an s/o with cool powers but thats okay... Thank you so much for requesting, Damien!!! Love seeing you around 🖤
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crowleysgirl56 · 3 months ago
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The vast majority of people who work on a show are paid upfront for their labour
They don't get paid dependent on how successful a show is
They also don't do work that doesn't get paid- if they are working on a show that gets cancelled, they get paid for the work they did
All this 'stream GO for the hard workers behind the scenes' is bullshit
They work for companies are will be put on different projects
Just be honest that you want more GO (despite the message that it sends to studios- that audiences are ok with abusers! Just turn a blind eye to them! Yes that gives them more power but who cares because people will watch and make them money!)
Don't pretend your doing this for moral reasons
(And acting like you're doing this for Terry- for all we know he might want his work with an abuser completely destroyed- it's stupid to assume he'd want the series to be continued)
Like say this shit with your chest, you know?
Oh boy, ok. Gonna take a minute to answer this.
Firstly, I and a lot of the fandom, are heartbroken over what NG has done. Because we were duped into thinking he was a decent person. From the things that he wrote to the things that he said we thought that he was good person. And it is horrible that there are people out there suffering because yet another rich powerful white man decided he had the right to take advantage of them.
You seem rather angry and if that anger stems because you have experienced something similar yourself then I hope you have love and support around you so that you can heel.
If you want to talk about money, let me remind you that NG has already been paid for season 3. He will continue to get royalties, and thanks to the writers strike last year, he will now get more money for those royalties than before. If S3 doesn’t go ahead then hundreds of people will lose their jobs. Will they get other jobs? Sure, maybe. But any loss of job in this current economic climate is terrible and stressful (and I’m not talking about DT or MS here. They’ll get more work).
I don’t know if you understand how hyper fixation in neurodiversity works, but this is extremely painful for some people and takes a lot of time and energy and therapy to get over when a hyper fixation is threatened or taken away. Some people, like myself, need closure for things otherwise we can find it extremely difficult to move on emotionally. This obviously does not compare to someone trying to survive after SA, but emotional diversity can be extremely debilitating as well. They are apples and oranges to compare, but you can’t invalidate one person’s pain because you think another person’s pain is worth more.
As for the show itself, there is so little queer representation in media. There is a lot more nowadays compared to a decade ago, or even 5 years ago, but the little representation we have is so extremely important. Do you know how many people have found a truth to themselves thanks to GO? How many people discovered something about themselves that finally gives them answer to how they feel? How at the age of 40 I finally realised that I’m asexual and NOT BROKEN. That’s fucking important.
And this. ALL of this is why everyone, including me, are so fucking angry with NG. Because he has left us emotionally devastated. He has not just physically hurt these women. He has emotionally hurt hundreds of thousands of people. He is a stain.
I have spoken before when this all first happened about how I was angry that my one teeny tiny corner of the internet that made me happy was on fire. I left for a bit. I came back. I want to continue to interact with like minded people who love this fandom. I won’t stop that.
And frankly, and here’s the last I’ll say on this, the world is on fire. It is filled with a lot of fucking awful shit right now. I have suffered a very deep depression of late where some nights after I put the kids to bed I just stare and cry. You don’t know that about me because I don’t say those kinds of things on the internet, because our internet personas are facades. They’re not real. They’re not true life. I’m a real person and I’m aching inside about so many things. And these kinds of messages are just breaking me further. Seriously, when you send stuff like this do you even consider that?! So when I decide to hold onto one of the last bastions of entertainment that brings me joy, I’m not going to be guilted into dropping it because someone involved happens to be a monster. Because let me tell you if we did that every time someone turned out to be horrible, then we would never watch or enjoy anything ever again. EVERYTHING you watch or listen to or enjoy or like or cared about is connected to someone who is horrible or produced by a gigantic evil corporation (Nestle, Disney, Microsoft, Facebook, Google just to name a few). Every. Single. Thing. It’s the clothing you wear, the electronics you buy, the food you eat, the furniture in your house, and ALL the entertainment you consume. So if you gave up everything for some moral stance, then you would literally have nothing left.
Dropping Good Omens does nothing. It sends no message to anyone because the next really fucking awful person is about to produce the next big thing you might happen to love and care about. So what’s the point?
Let me have Good Omens. You don’t like that, then you can block me. That’s what the button is there for. You don’t need to send anonymous hateful messages. And if you want me to “say this shit with my chest” maybe you can send me an ask with the Anonymous off. So I can see your chest too.
I’m turning off anonymous asks now. Considering the only asks I’ve ever received is abusive shit telling me to kill myself or saying David Tennant is a paedophile or just telling me I’m a horrible person for supporting NG (when I’ve already stated before that I don’t anymore).
Sorry for those who’ve managed to get to the end here. Thanks for reading if you have, sorry it was so long. I hope you aren’t receiving the same type of messages. If Anonymous has read this far, I don’t know, maybe think twice before being horrible to random people on the internet?
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wszczebrzyszynie · 1 year ago
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i do have a question but first I just wanna say oh my GOD I LOVE YOUR SPACE MINING AU SO MUCH!!! The vibes, the story, the characters, everything!!!!!!
and my question: do you have any plans for Scott? He's been mentioned a couple times but hasn't been given much information other than being Jimmy's divorced husband. Do you have any concepts for him? How did he handle his and Jimmy's divorce? Your au makes me go so crazy in a good way <33
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Scott is not a prominent character and doesnt really show up that much; he doesnt really have a reason to, as he lives and works on a space station somewhere in the solar system. More info related to him below (and thank you for the kind words! Im glad so many people like this au!)
Space stations themselves arent really fullfilling the same role in the au as they do for us? Theyre bigger and made to fit a lot more people in. A lot of the planets arent habitable for the long run but are otherwise rich in resources, so there are usually small bases on the planet itself (for active mining) and one in space; Scott works in maintance (mostly plants and food related... things. I imagine something like the gardening mechanics from subnautica) on one of those space stations. Thats how he met Jimmy; they got along, dated and then married very quickly, which went well for a while, until it just... didnt. natural falling out of love i suppose. Scott handled it better than Jim did, but that has less to do with their view on the relationship and more with the fact that Scott was Jimmys only hm, normal close person. The divorce left Jim with a middle age crisis at the age of max 30 and Scott with a very awkward ex-husband friend, because despite everything they still keep in touch. Scott is sure Jimmy would go insane if they didnt. Scott is also very much aware of Jimmys weird criminal semi-family (met both Grian and Pearl on the wedding. not sure if Pearl was invited but even if she wasnt she let herself in and they got along insantly. And then had a falling out around the time of the divorce so you can imagine Pearl as Jimmys first and best divorce hype woman), and later of Tango, but he just... doesnt care. Teases Jim sometimes about turning them in so his life can get even a bit better, but he wouldnt... probably
The space station is not exactly his dream place but it works well enough; he loves the no-gravity space and space walking, so everywhere in more or less open space is a good enough choice for him. Hes fine with taking care of the food and whatnot too. Hes not really into gardening but he likes when things Work Well and Look Pretty, so he does his job pretty well. Hopes to one day leave for something more
Less on Scott and more on Jimmy, but i think its a good thing to mention when talking about their relationship: if Scott for some reason offered, Jimmy would come back to him, but not vice versa. Theyre both very confident about the choices they take in life; in Scotts case its because hes actually good at planning things out and can be 100% sure about what he does with himself. He has a stable life that he worked hard on himself and knows what his options are. In Jimmys case its because hes proud and if he wasnt forcing himself to be as confident as possible about what he does at all times he would probably break. That man has very little idea about most things in his life but would rather eat dirt than admit that. That being said the loneliness would make all of this crumble the second Scott says something. It changes later on but thats the headspace Jimmy starts with in this au! desperate
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merakiui · 11 months ago
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simply business.
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yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, slight nsfw, misogyny, power imbalance, workplace misconduct, abuse of authority, ceo azul, secretary jade note - you'll do anything for this job. mr. ashengrotto wonders if there are limits to your anything.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Ashengrotto. Thank you for making time for me today. I can’t begin to imagine how packed your schedule is,” you admit with a gentle laugh.
Just as you practiced with Trey and Riddle, you shake his hand firmly and confidently. Even if most of your poise is feigned to hide a mountain of anxieties, it manages to fool the CEO of Mostro, for he mirrors your amiable greeting with one of his own. Or maybe he sees right through your act and is choosing to remain quiet. You’re not going to think too deeply about that.
“The pleasure’s all mine. You have no idea how startled I was when your application found its way on my desk. Why, I thought I was dreaming.”
If he brings up childhood memories, talk about it. Why not? Trey advised hours earlier, serving you and Riddle individual slices of strawberry tart. Friendship is just as good a connection as the one made through sweets.
Which is very solid guidance coming from a baker.
Even so, she shouldn’t rely solely on past connections. In business, that means nothing if the connection itself isn’t stable and worthwhile enough, Riddle, ever the realist, added with a grimace. We should know. We went to school with him.
Hey, don’t sweat it. You’ll do great, Trey added when he noticed the despairing look you’d given your tart. I’ll bake you something to celebrate, so do your best, be yourself, and bring home good news.
With his and Riddle’s encouragement, you had been so certain of your abilities before, in which you proudly proclaimed you’d get the job and charm Azul in the process, but now you’re not sure. Standing here in his office, thirty-something stories in the clouds, you can’t escape the suffocating fear as it saps the oxygen from the room and renders your lungs vacant.
“I aim to surprise.”
“And surprise you have. Pleasantly, might I add.” He motions for you to sit, to which you comply and lower into the seat across from him. A mahogany desk separates you from a sparkling future. Your gaze pans from him to the man standing a few inches behind, a clipboard and pen held in both hands. Standing isn’t the right word, actually. With his height, all lithe limbs dressed darkly, he looks like a bodyguard ready to escort you to your execution should you make the wrong move. You can handle one pressed suit, but another is too much. And this one looks even more intimidating than Azul with his sharp, stoic stare. “Pay him no mind. Jade’s merely here to make note of our discussion.”
“Ah, I see. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jade.”
He nods his silent acknowledgement, two-toned eyes filling with light.
“Shall we begin?” Azul gathers a few documents, straightens them, and then dives right into the rigmarole. “I must preface this by stating our past friendship has no influence on my decision or the outcome of this interview.”
“Completely understandable,” you blurt, trigger-happy with agreement.
Don’t be a yes-man, Riddle’s words from before float through your head, stern like a parent. You’re human, not some gear meant to strengthen their corporate machine. If they can’t see that, then that’s no environment for you.
“I… Actually, it feels a little awkward talking like this,” you add with a nervous sigh. “With the stakes being so high and everything… It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I’m happy you’re doing well for yourself. Oh! I’m not saying that to butter you up or anything! That’s my honest opinion.”
He chuckles. “I’m also pleased to see you again. Although going forward I would like to keep this matter separate from the task at hand.”
“Right. Sorry. We got off topic.”
He flips through the papers—likely your resume and application and any other information he has on file—and hums. “It says here that you have experience managing an online platform. Would you care to elaborate?”
“Oh, that. It was for my friend’s family business. He’s a baker. The shop has a nice reputation in the neighborhood, but they don’t really have any social media presence. My friend and I thought his family could benefit from a website and a Magicam account, so we put both together. I was in charge of creating and managing the website.”
“I see.”
You notice Jade scribbling something and your heart drops into your stomach. “S-So I have experience in design and…stuff.”
Relax. Don’t pay attention to him.
“Then may I assume you’re passionate about photography and graphic design?”
“Very.”
“It’s good to have an eye for aesthetics. I can clearly see that from the samples you submitted. Your portfolio is impressive.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ashengrotto. I take pride in all of my work.”
“In that case, would you mind walking me through your portfolio?”
“I’d be happy to.” You scoot closer to his desk without thinking, gesturing to the prints he’s laid out for you. “That’s the website I designed for my friend. He wanted something simple, family-friendly, and easy to navigate. I had to appeal to both customers from the neighborhood and customers who might be visiting for the first time. Finding a balance was a little difficult, but I made it work after lots of dedicated effort.”
He gestures to another sample and you delve into the lore behind it. This carries on twice more before he indicates his satisfaction with a beaming smile.
“Aren’t you diligent?”
The delivery is more backhanded than you’d care to hear, but you choose to brush it aside. “Thank you.”
“Your baker friend… Are you employed?”
“Oh, not currently! It was just a side gig. A one-time thing.”
“Is that all?”
You open your mouth to reply and then stop. Did you hear him correctly? “Is… Is what all?”
“You may not work for him in that capacity, but you might in another capacity. ‘One-time things’ could snowball into—”
“It didn’t and it never will,” you interrupt. You realize your error seconds later and smooth out the abrasiveness in your tone. “My apologies. I meant to say that I’m not affiliated with him in any of those ways. I’m merely a friend who helped out where she could. Nothing more and nothing less.”
Azul hums flatly, as if disappointed. Jade scribbles. You swallow mounting dread.
What was that about?
“Very well. Moving swiftly on… Can you tell me about yourself? What drew you to this job?”
“I’ve always wanted to manage a social media account for a business like yours. There are so many branches. I think it’d be a very fulfilling experience.”
“Is there a particular branch you’re interested in?”
“Definitely one of your restaurants. I’ve worked with food websites and accounts before, so I have the necessary qualifications you might be seeking.”
“Social media is no easy task. It can be stressful to manage any platform in which you have a following. With that in mind, may I ask how you normally handle stressful or challenging situations?”
“I don’t get stressed very easily. I’m normally very level-headed.”
Liar. I’m so stressed right now. Sweating like crazy and everything!
As if listening in on your thoughts, Jade drags his pen across paper.
“But in the event that you might face such a situation?”
“If such a thing were to occur, I’d take a step back, analyze everything objectively, and see what I can do to mitigate the stress or difficulty that’s cropped up. If it’s a team effort, I’d gather everyone involved for a meeting so that we could discuss together.”
“And if it was an individual effort?”
“It depends on the severity of the stress. If it comes down to it, I’d have no problem notifying my supervisor or manager of the issue firsthand. The sooner you’re made aware of something, the easier it is to draw up a plan of action, right?”
“That can be true, yes.” Azul shuffles his files. “How would others describe you? From the perspective of a friend, perhaps? Or a spouse? Are you married?”
That’s…way too personal. Is that even an interview question? So far he’s asked everything Riddle went over in our mock interview. What’s up with this sudden shift?
You force a stiff laugh. “Not married yet, no…”
“Do you plan to be?”
“Um… I…don’t know. I’m focused on my career right now.”
“Ah, a career woman. Most women your age often settle down. Not you, though. Ambitious thing, aren’t you?”
Your lips twitch into the beginning of a scandalized grimace, but before you can allow your tactful façade to slip you hurry to paste an unruffled grin on your countenance. “I’m passionate,” you smoothly correct. You don’t miss the way Jade’s pen halts before he continues his duty as scribe. “If I may, Mr. Ashengrotto, did you not say you wanted to keep work and personal matters separate?”
“Forgive me. I was only testing you.”
Just what kind of test is that?
“O-Oh. Well, I hope I passed.”
“With flying colors.” He clears his throat. “Now then, what motivates you, Miss (Name)?”
“My friends and family. Myself. The food waiting for me at home.” He quirks a slight smile at that. “I always strive to do my best.”
“A fine attitude to have.”
“Mhm! I like what I do. Every day’s exciting and I love a good challenge.”
No, I don’t. I almost cried on the way here. This is too much of a challenge for me. I didn’t even think I’d get an email back from you…
“You seem like quite the optimist.” He straightens the papers once more and then clips them together. “I appreciate your insightful, honest answers.”
“Oh. Oh! Yes, right! Of course! Thank you for your time.” You practically jump out of your seat to shake his hand.
That was good, right? It felt so fast, but I did well. Right?
“If I may ask one final question…”
“Sure thing!”
Azul smiles. “Just how badly do you want this job?”
More than anything. I need this job. I’m unemployed and desperate. Please, Azul. You have to help me out.
Obviously you can’t phrase it like that, even though the spineless side of you wants to.
“I…would benefit greatly if I was hired. Working for you and your successful company would be an amazing honor.”
“Is that right?” He releases your hand. “All right. The job is yours.”
You blink at him, shocked. “Wait. It is?”
“On one condition.” Azul sits back in his plush office chair. It’s the expensive type. The one with cushions and reclining abilities. “Strip for me.”
Your blood crystallizes in your veins; your heart almost stops. “Excuse me?”
Surely he didn’t just say that. Surely he meant to say something else. Something like…strip all of your worries and accept this position? Your eyes drift over to Jade. He blinks back at you, a razored smile hidden behind his clipboard.
“If you’re willing to go to extremes for this job, prove it.”
“Mr. Ashengrotto… I…” You laugh, but nothing about this is funny. Bile rises in your throat, scalding with sickening acid. “I…”
“Go on then.” Azul waves his hand impatiently, deceptively youthful features twisting with annoyance. “I haven’t got all day.”
Your hands curl into fists, and you dig your nails into your palms so roughly that you break skin. He can’t be serious. He really can’t.
And yet he’s watching you like he expects it.
Again, you look to Jade for help. He lowers his clipboard. “It’s not polite to make one wait, Miss (Name). We pride ourselves on timely efficiency here.”
“But…” You swallow thickly, your hope slowly waning. “But this… This is absurd! I… You must be joking. I can’t possibly—”
“You can,” Azul interjects. “If you want this job, you will do just as I’ve said. Well? The choice is yours. I’ve played my hand.”
Warmth drains from your person until all that’s left is creeping cold.
Oh, you think with devastating resignation, it’s this kind of management. So this is how everyone survives here.
Inhaling through your nose, you steel yourself. Your fingers twitch towards the buttons on your blazer.
“Will I truly get the job?”
“That depends.”
“On what?” you ask, dreading the answer.
“On how far you’re willing to go.”
“C-Can he leave?”
Azul glances at Jade, a sticky smile spreading his lips wide. “Oh, you’ll hurt his feelings with that. How cruel. I can already see the tears brimming in Jade’s eyes.”
“Heartless,” Jade echoes with a sniffle.
You school your scowl into something friendly. “I… I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable with him here…”
“And you do with me? I’m flattered, but our past has nothing to do with this. I’m grateful you bothered to give me a Valentine every school year, but those days are behind us. So stop wasting my time. It’s money, and every second you spend stalling is a Madol lost.”
Your lip trembles, but you don’t cry. You won’t give either of these rotten monsters the satisfaction.
“H-How much do I have to undress to get the job?” You toy with a button, regret pooling in your stomach.
It’s not worth it. I should leave.
You should, but can you?
“We’ll see. I’m feeling generous today, so your fortune may just be favorable.”
Hopeless, you shut your eyes, exhale a defeated breath, and harden your features into something unshakeable.
I’m sorry, Riddle. I’m not a gear here. I’m not even human.
Slowly, while holding unbreakable eye contact, you undo each button on your blazer. You shrug out of it seconds later, dropping it to the floor unceremoniously. Azul and Jade follow your movements like expert predators ensorcelled by prey.
Here, in this hellish bathyal zone, I’m just a whale fall.
From there, you move to your blouse next. You untuck it from your pencil skirt, allowing the fabric to fall freely. Deft fingers work at the buttons, traveling further down until there’s nothing left of the garment protecting your nudity. That, too, joins the slowly forming heap on the floor. The action leaves both men transfixed, and they eye your lacy white bralette as if attempting to sear the sight into their retinas. At one point, Jade decides to write something down. You fondly contemplate all the ways in which he should die.
“Will that be all?”
“Keep going.”
“Haven’t I done enough?”
“If you have room in that mouth to voice complaints, you can stuff it with my—”
You yank your pencil skirt down, silencing the sin that was ready to spill from Azul’s lips. Jade doesn’t muffle his snicker. Again, you fantasize about pushing him out the window.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
With trembling hands, you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. It’s peeled from your chest then, exposing your tits for their ravenous leering. Their silence says enough. After what feels like an eternity, Azul stops you when you start to slide your panties down.
“I’ve seen enough.”
“On the contrary, I’ve yet to have my fill.” Jade smiles at you, hiding behind his clipboard like the coy bastard he is.
You stand there, clutching your bra so tightly your knuckles ache. “Is… Is it over?”
“For now.”
At that, you fall to your knees, wrap your arms around your chest, and suck in great gulps of air. Fixing your stare on the floor, you find yourself unable to meet his azure hues. If you do, you may just vomit. Footsteps click their way over to you. He pauses; you can feel his gaze burning through you. And then his fingers ghost over your bare shoulder, dancing like playful puppets.
“You start Monday. Bright and early,” Azul says. There’s a detached, clinical edge to the fluff. “I expect wonderful things from you, Miss Marketing Manager.”
As if his words have materialized to topple you—to shatter what’s left of your dignity—you almost collapse. Your arms shoot out to catch you; your palms press against the icy tiles. Still, you don’t cry. Jade’s leather shoes enter your line of sight, which immediately dries your ducts. You don’t have to look to see the satisfied smirk sharpening on his lips because you hear it.
“I must thank you for the entertaining show. Perhaps you should have considered a career in acting.” He drapes your blazer over your shoulders for added effect.
It’s the loudest fuck you in the quietest sentence.
I hope you die a million painful deaths, you despotic, disgusting dickhead.
When you finally stagger out of the building—fully clothed and gutted—dropping thirty-something floors from heaven to the sensible earth below in a compact lift, you fish your phone out of your bag. You’re moving on autopilot when you press his contact. Trey answers on the third ring.
“I was waiting for this call. So what’s the news? Am I baking a celebration cake or a consolation cake? I’m ready for either one. Just say the word.”
The tears are already streaming down your face. You wipe them away, smudging your makeup in the process. “No consolation needed. I… I got the job…”
“See? I knew you’d get it. This’ll be the best celebration cake you’ve ever tasted. Just you wait and—hey, you okay? You don’t sound good.”
You open and close your mouth, unable to pull a reply from the dry depths of your throat. For one minute, Trey listens to your soft, hiccuping sobs. “I’m just—” you sniffle— “I’m so happy… I can’t wait to eat cake.”
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confirmeddead · 26 days ago
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Lover, Will You Look At Me Now?: An Armand & Daniel Theory
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Armand and Daniel were in a relationship in the book The Queen of the Damned and have been a fan favorite for decades. Many fans were excited to see how the show would adapt this companionship.
Armand makes several appearances throughout season 1 in disguise as the servant Rashid. He reveals his true identity in the season 1 finale.
A lot has been said on how the show will approach their companionship. It’s definitely up in the air with so many things having been changed regarding the two already!
Have we seen anything that has definitively hinted at them forming a companionship? I could talk about faulty memories, a possible purple shirt, or vermouth in Daniel’s cocktails; but is any of that concrete proof?
Let’s look at the unsaid- literally. The looks and stares between Armand and Daniel.
Throughout season 1, Daniel’s attention is consistently on Louis’s servant Rashid (Armand in disguise). We see the camera (Daniel’s eye) follow him constantly. Daniel is an investigative journalist but he’s taken a keen interest into the person serving his drinks.
Daniel does a lot of looking at Rashid. We know it’s his job to investigate, so it makes sense he analyzes everything and everyone. But often times he’s distracted by Rashid’s presence, even prior to having the San Francisco dream. Daniel looks at Armand so much throughout the show, but has anyone noticed how intimate some of these moments are?
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Thank you to @mirrorhouse for the Magnolia screencap!
Rashid prayer, which is interrupted by Daniel.
Louis feeding on Rashid in front of Daniel. Staring at one another (and the act itself) is very… personal? Uncomfortable?
Look at the framing of the scene by the magnolia tree. It’s intimate, beautiful, and dare I say romantic!
Most times they’re alone, it feels like the viewer is almost intruding on something (or like Daniel is). Should he be talking to Rashid while he prays? Should he stare at him being fed on? Dare they speak alone while Louis is resting?
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I realize they have to look at each other during an interview, but we can see these looks are there for a reason. I think they’re trying to tell us something.
It’s easy for us to look at these things, point, and say FLIRTING! But shipping stuff aside, real people in my life (who don’t read the books or follow socials) who have seen the show have talked to me about the flirting they’re seemingly doing.
Okay, let’s see what Eric Bogosian says regarding the looks:
“I’m looking at him. I’m trying to figure something out and they can show us that and they do show us that. And we do a lot of looking at each other. Like, I do a lot of listening to Jacob, but we do a lot of looking- checking out each other as this relationship continues to go through quite a lot of changes in the next-in all the episodes.”
(Source) 2:00 mark
Wait… checking out? Like checking someone out? What an interesting choice of words.
This is where my theory comes into play.
We all know Eric’s tendency to spoil things about the show, right?
I think that term, which is mostly exclusive to someone interested sexually/romantically, was in the script!
Making a note here to say only the Pilot and the season 2 finale scripts have been released.
Remember the photos I included of the constant moments of Daniel and Armand exchanging looks and eyes tracking each other?
What’s the likelihood it was written in the script (or at the very least directed by the episode directors and Rolin)?
Wait- there’s a quote on that as well!
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(Source)
So it was happening in both seasons.
We’ve got our scene moments and the quotes from Eric and Assad. Was “checking out” literally Rolin’s or the scripts words? Was that what he was telling them even back in season 1?
Spoiler Eric strikes again.
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I’ll end this off by saying this is all just for fun! We’re all having to wait through this hiatus together so I figured I’d keep up the discussions on my faves. In no way do I think this theory should or is correct- I’m just yapping and love discussing these characters! I’m totally OK being wrong 😅 but it’s all in good fun.
And my asks are open!
Sources otherwise not mentioned:
Title from “I Walked” by Sufjan Stevens
Screencaps take from here (x)
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luminoustarlight · 1 year ago
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Had It Up To Here | Anakin Skywalker
After an argument, Anakin's patience with you has grown thin.
Very, very loosely inspired by the lyric "I've had it up to here" in the song Just A Girl by No Doubt
rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 4.6k | read on ao3 warnings: SMUT [dom!anakin, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, cream pie], dirty talk, jealousy, flirting
i hope you enjoy my first ani smut. there's more to come (hehe) :)
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If you’ve never received the cold shoulder from Anakin Skywalker, consider yourself lucky. 
It all started two days ago after he and Obi-Wan retrieved you from Nal Hutta. Your mission was successful so you weren’t quite sure why Anakin had looked so… displeased when he saw you. Of course, you didn’t expect him to greet you with open arms, given that Obi-Wan had accompanied him on the trip. But the scowl on his face was enough to make your very exposed skin prickle with goosebumps. And that’s when you realized— you didn’t have a chance to change into your everyday threads before you met Ani and Obi-Wan at the extraction point. You were still wearing a rather scantily clad ensemble, one that certainly would’ve had Anakin jumping out of his pants if you two were alone. 
“You did well,” Obi-Wan praised. “I can imagine you were quite alluring to the Hutts.” Obi-Wan’s tone was playful, knowing just how magnetic you can be. In contrast to Obi-Wan’s friendliness, a deep-set frown had made itself comfortable on Anakin’s face. He didn’t like what you were wearing and he definitely didn’t like Obi-Wan making light of it. Your secret boyfriend shrugged off his own robe and threw it over your shoulders. 
“Thank you, Anakin,” you said. Anakin replied with an unpleased grunt. Even after Obi-Wan settled himself in the cockpit and you two were alone, he didn’t hug you or kiss you or even act like he was happy to see you. “What, you don’t like my outfit, Ani?” 
“No.” His tone was clipped. 
“Really?” you smirked, opening his robe, revealing your bare torso and accentuated breasts. “I really thought you would have.” 
“That’s enough,” Anakin said, shutting down your flirtatious smile. “We’ll discuss this later.” 
Then off he went to join Obi-Wan in the cockpit, not saying another word to you until you were in your private chambers. 
Hours. It seemed like you and Anakin were having a conversation about your outfit on Nal Hutta for hours. As a Republic spy, you have no issue with becoming the character the mission requires you to be. Most of the time you’re invisible. After all, that’s the point of being a spy, isn’t it? However, you were far from invisible when the job required you to weed your way through the Hutt Clan. It made Anakin’s blood boil to know that your beautiful body, which should only be reserved for him, was exposed to some of the slimiest scum in the galaxy. 
Of course, your bodily autonomy is your own. And Anakin knows this. But you are also his and because nobody actually knows that you’re his, he doesn’t particularly enjoy when anyone gets to admire you and not face repercussions. He has to consciously remind himself not to stare at you during meetings and briefings. He can’t tell you you’re beautiful, he can’t kiss you whenever he pleases and it drives him mad. Because of this, you two have become quite the experts at stealing kisses in empty hallways, locking pinkies in passing to silently say I love you. 
You had been looking forward to taking a nice bath to decompress. Maybe open a bottle of wine. And you wanted to do that with Anakin. It was abnormally quiet for him on the war front so he’d been given a couple days off. But Anakin just can’t seem to let go of your disagreement about what is appropriate for you to wear. Spoiler alert: you can wear whatever the stars you want and he just has to deal with it. Because you’re both too stubborn and petty for your own good, you’ve decided to dress up in a nice, form-fitting emerald dress with triangle cuts on the sides of your waist, meeting to a point over your belly button. 
Anakin is sitting in the lounge, flicking through the HoloTV. He’s hardly said a word to you since you ended your argument last night with, “You don’t control me, Anakin.”
While that might be true in almost every sense, there is a different persona Anakin often takes on when you’re intimate. And he would venture to say that he is in full control of you in the bedroom. 
When you emerge from your sleeping quarters, you swear you can hear his heart stop. He promptly turns off the TV and reaches you in five quick steps. You’re securing your earring, tilting your neck to show off the supple skin Anakin loves to nip and kiss so dearly. You’ve put on the perfume that makes your skin shimmer in the light, making you look like his very own angel. Anakin squares his hips against you, backing you into the wall. “Where are you going?” 
You look up at him through thick eyelashes. Your lips are coated in a clear gloss, all tantalizing and tempting, probably the one that tastes like pears. “Out,” you reply. You escape from Anakin’s blockade to head towards the door, but not before he grabs your forearm with his gloved hand. 
You know he’s dying to kiss you, to have you right there up against the wall. But Anakin doesn’t cave that easily. We’re back to that stubbornness you two share. “Without me?” Anakin grits. 
You let out something between a scoff and a chuckle. “If you’re not going to talk to me then I figured I’d go out and have a drink at Helios. I’m sure there are plenty of people willing to talk to me there.” You mean to flirt with. Harmless flirting, of course. You and Anakin only do it to rile the other up. You don’t do it often, what with the continuous war going on, the two of you don’t find yourselves socializing with civilians all that regularly. 
“Watch it,” he warns, his grip on you tightening. You look down to where his leather fingers are wrapped around your arm. It’s a strong hold. Just say the word and I’ll let go, Anakin conveys through softened eyes. 
“Watch me walking away from you and out of the door.” You snatch your arm away from Anakin. You take fast and confident steps so he knows you mean business and open the front door. “Don’t wait up for me.” 
Anakin stands in the foyer with his jaw and fists clenched. He lets you walk away, mainly because he knows he’s been acting like a prick. He knows you’re right. He knows you were doing your job and not purposefully drawing attention to yourself by what you were wearing. And so what if you were? You can wear whatever you want. Stars, most of the time Anakin loves seeing you dressed up or in next to nothing. 
And truthfully, Anakin loved what you were wearing when he picked you up from Nal Hutta. It was Obi-Wan’s comment that put him in a foul mood over it. Just two words, the same word repeated twice, actually. “My, my,” was all the older gentleman muttered. Anakin hated that his Master could make such a comment about you without anyone being suspicious of his intentions or feelings. If Anakin had made the same comment, with that same suggestive tone, he’d be in deep Bantha fodder. 
Anakin thinks about this next move. Do you truly want space? Or is this just a little foreplay? Afterall, he still hasn’t kissed you. Maker, what is wrong with him? All he ever wants to do is kiss you, taste you, wrap you up in his arms and never let go. Because you are his and only his. 
He’s made his decision. He’s going to Helios. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Helios is one of the nicer clubs downtown. It doesn’t usually attract the wrong crowd, making you feel safe whenever you go alone or meet with friends. It’s not like you can’t protect yourself should anything happen, though. It’s one of Anakin’s favorite things about you: your precise marksmanship and dexterity with a knife. Not to mention your mean uppercut. 
The crowd is booming, but not enough so that your laugh can’t be heard by Anakin when he walks into the club. His eyes immediately track you to the bar, elbows on the counter, laughing at something the Twi’lek on your right must’ve said. The routine pit of jealousy begins building in his stomach. It’s been a while since you two have played this game. He can’t remember if he loves it or hates it. He loves knowing that the men who want you can’t actually have you. He loves knowing that he’s the one who will be fucking you— or making love to you depending on the day— at the end of it all. That you are his and only his. But damn it, does he hate watching someone else make you laugh. Especially when he’s done so little of that since you got home. 
Anakin comes up behind you and places his left hand on your back, not so subtly pushing himself between you and the Twi’lek. “Pardon me,” he says. 
You straighten your back. You knew he’d come get you. His jawline looks impossibly sharp under the lavender light in the club. His hand is warm on your back, fingertips digging into the exposed flesh of your torso. “Hello, Anakin. I was having rather nice conversation with Vik before you interrupt us. Say hello to Vik, Anakin.” 
Anakin does no such thing and orders a shot of something strong instead. 
“Sorry, are you two…” Vik waves a finger between you and Anakin.
You reply in unison, although your answer is “no” and Anakin’s is “yes”. 
It is never “yes” because you never know who might be listening. Anakin must really be peeved. 
Vik’s flirty eyes turn frightful. “Listen, I don’t want any part in a lovers quarrel.” 
You place your hand over Vik’s. “We’re not lovers, Vik. Anakin is just a friend.” 
Anakin downs his shot. It burns going down, but no more than hearing you call him your friend. He’s too touch-starved to play this game any longer. His hold on you is possessive, but clearly not enough for you to get the message. 
“You might wanna tell him that,” Vik hooks his thumb at your boyfriend. 
“I insist, Vik,” your voice wavers only so much that Anakin would notice. You can’t keep up this act much longer. Not with one drink already in your system and Anakin’s hand searing into your skin. “He’s just here for a drink. I’d much rather continue our conversation. Anakin, would you mind leaving us?” 
“Yes, I mind,” Anakin replies sternly. 
“Excuse me?” you blink at him. His blue eyes are drowning in darkness and you hesitate to say your next thought. Biting the inside of your cheek, you decide to say it anyway. “I kindly asked you to leave. I’d like to have another drink with Vik.” 
That’s it. He’s at the end of his fuse. Anakin turns to the Twi’lek, persuasion laced through his voice. “You want to go home. You’re not feeling well.” 
Vik promptly stands up from the stool. “I want to go home. I’m not feeling well.” 
“Anakin,” you say tentatively, knowing you’re in trouble. 
“I’ve had it up to here with you,” Anakin puts his hand above his head to show just how far you’ve tested his patience. “Let’s go.” 
You obey, making your way out of the club with Anakin’s hand still on your back. “I don’t want to hear a word from you until we get home,” he says into your ear. His hot breath makes you shudder. You nod and silently get into the speeder. 
Like the bubbles in a bottle of sparkling wine, excitement fizzes beneath your skin. You can’t wait for what Anakin has in store for you. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
As directed, you are silent until you enter your apartment. Which is really your shared apartment with Anakin when he’s not a the Temple. Little pieces of your Jedi knight litter the space that had once been your own. Trinkets that he’s collected from all over the galaxy, unfinished inventions that he tinkers with to destress. Not to mention his scent. It permeates every pillow and blanket that you own, making it that much easier to miss him when he’s gone. 
“Ani,” you begin gently, setting your bag on one of your dressers. 
“Ah-” he holds up his hand. “What did I say?” 
“You said you didn’t want to hear a word from me until we got home,” you answer immediately. “We’re home.” 
The corner of Anakin’s lip quirks up before he catches himself. You almost had him.“You think you’re clever? That mouth of yours gets you into trouble sometimes, doesn’t it?” 
You nod and gulp. Your thighs have become sticky with arousal given the fact that you chose not to wear anything beneath your dress. A fact that Anakin has yet to discover. He holds your chin in his gloved hand and angles your head upwards. “Good thing I have a better way of putting that mouth to use.” 
Anakin encourages you to your knees. The short hemline of your dress creeps up your thighs but not enough to reveal your exposed cunt. “No touching. Understand?” 
You nod again, sitting complacently on your heels as you watch Anakin remove his pants. Your lips are parted as you anticipate his length in your mouth. You claw at your thighs when you see the prettiest droplets of precum on the crown of his cock. It’s been too long, you think.
“I know it has, angel,” Anakin answers your thought. Damn him for getting in your head. No matter. He’d know you want him even without reading your thoughts.  You’re practically drooling for him. “Be a good girl and open that pretty mouth for me.” 
As soon as you drop your jaw, Anakin wastes no time putting his dick in your mouth. The weight of him on your tongue makes your pussy pathetically clench around nothing. Even though it’s been a while since you two have been intimate, the feeling, the taste, it’s familiar. It’s comforting. Even when his spongey tip is hitting the back of your throat when he ruts his hips forward. This makes you gag and grab onto his thighs for stability. 
“Fuck,” the profanity slips from Anakin’s lips. He can’t deny how much he’s missed the feeling of his cock in your mouth. The sinful image of it being too big, too thick, making you choke. He relishes the way you whimper around him, how it sends shocks of pleasure through him as you beg for him to fuck your mouth. You want to wrap your hand around the base of him, but Anakin was clear in his instructions. No touching. Instead, you squeeze his thighs, urging him to continue. You relax your throat, opening wide so he can use you how he pleases. 
The friction of his length brushing past your soft lips makes his stomach tighten. His strong quads are contracting beneath your hands as he thrusts himself in and out of your mouth. His musk makes you dizzy. Your eyes are stinging and a lonesome tear falls down your cheek. “Finally decided to behave, hm?” he wipes your tear with his thumb. “Don’t think for a second that you’re forgiven for how you’ve been acting.” 
Anakin pulls his dick from your mouth, a messy string of saliva connecting the two of you before landing on your chin. Your chest is heaving as you attempt to catch your breath. “I shouldn’t even let you cum tonight. Do you think you deserve to cum?” 
“Please, Ani,” you answer quietly. Your throat is raw and you still can’t seem to get a good breath in your lungs. “I want to cum.” 
Anakin shakes his head. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to cum, I asked if you deserved to cum. Because from where I’m standing I don’t think you do. You’ve been a brat ever since you got home. Insisting that you can wear slutty little outfits just because it’s part of your job… flirting with that Twi at the bar… telling him I’m your friend,” Anakin spits.   
Your knees are aching but you don’t dare stand up. Anakin hasn’t been dominant in a long time and you want to savor this. “I had to seduce the Hutts, Ani. It was for the job.” 
“I’m done hearing your excuses.” Anakin wraps his artificial hand around your bicep, lifting you off the ground. “I want to hear you say you’re sorry for being a brat. For disrespecting me at the club.”
Maker, you wish you were still on the floor because Anakin’s words are making your knees buckle. “I’m sorry,” you say. 
“That’s not good enough,” he hisses. You love this side of Anakin: dark and demanding while knowing he’s going to take care of you when all is said and done. After all, he’s just your sweet boy from Tatooine. He never used to want to inflict pain on purpose. But over time, with your permission and encouragement, you allowed him to experiment with stirring desires. Spanking you, tying you up, being the dominating presence in the bedroom. Giving him all of the control he never felt under Watto. 
Anakin is not always dominant and you’re not always submissive. Sometimes he likes to be taken care of, likes it when you’re in control. Sometimes you two just make love, only concerned with making the other feel good with your bodies. But tonight, you understand very clearly that Anakin wants to dominate you. Reclaim you as his. 
“I’m sorry for being a brat, Anakin. I’m sorry I told the Twi’lek we weren’t together.”  
“What was his name?” Anakin inquires. You give him a puzzled look. “The Twi’lek. What was his name?” 
“V-Vik,” you stutter. 
Anakin tucks your hair behind your ear. “Good. Now forget it. The only name you’ll be needing tonight is mine. Understand?” 
“Yes,” you reply. Anakin raises his eyebrows. “Yes, Anakin,” you correct. 
“There’s hope for you yet,” he replies. “Let’s get this dress off of you.” 
You turn around so he can undo the zipper. Anakin’s lips ghost over your pulse, hands caressing your shoulders before finding the little tab at the top of your back. “I really do love this dress, baby. But I know it’ll look better on the floor.” He begins a trail of kisses down your spine as he drags the zipper down your back. The opening stops just above your hips and you remove your arms so Anakin can drop the fabric from you completely. When he sees your bare ass in front of his eyes, he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. Or to you.
“You little minx,” he murmurs. “I should be mad at you… but you made it that much easier for me to access what I really want.” Anakin drags two fingers between the folds of your pussy to see how wet you are. His cock jumps with anticipation. Now he’s the one thinking it’s been too long. “Get on the bed, sweetheart. On your knees.” 
As you situate yourself on the bed, Anakin removes the rest of his clothing. The mattress dips beneath his weight and lays down beneath your legs, face right below your leaking cunt. “Sit,” is all he says. You’re wracking your brain trying to think of a time you’ve ever sat on Anakin’s face. Won’t it be too much? How will he breathe? You apparently take too long to follow orders as Anakin’s hands are on your hips and lowers you down to his mouth.
 “Oh, Anakin,” you whine, fingers fisting in his wavy hair reactively. You’d been aching and throbbing for any kind of contact and this almost already too much. His warm tongue swirls around your hole and he’s groaning into you, as if this is just as pleasurable for him as it is for you. He goes back and forth between using the tip of his tongue inside of you and using the flat of it to lap up all that you’re giving him. “Ani, that’s so good- I’m gonna-” your thighs begin to tremble as your pleasure grows. 
Swiftly, Anakin has you on your back and returns not only his mouth to your cunt, but two fingers as well. The new stretch makes you cry out his name once more. He drags his fingers along your wall while flicking your swollen clit with his tongue. His face is smeared with your juices and the sounds coming from his throat is intoxicating. You think he loves giving more than you love receiving. But then your back arches off of the bed when Anakin’s fingers hit that particular spot inside of you. Everything begins to unravel as Anakin cups your breast and finger fucks you until you see stars. “Anakin!” 
“That’s it, sweetheart,” Anakin soothes, kissing the inside of your sticky thigh. “I never want you to forget…” another kiss on the other side, “that I’m the only one who can make you cum like that.”  
“Ani.” You roll your head against the mattress as your body begins to settle from your orgasm. Your fingers brush Anakin’s cheek as he kisses along your hip bone, across your soft tummy, and up the valley of your breasts. His leaking tip hits you between your folds, tempting you with what you crave so deeply. He presses a kiss over your thrumming pulse while running his hands over your whole body. The contrast between his warm hand and cool leather glove makes you shudder. You lift your hips in a meager attempt to get his cock inside of you.  “Ani, please.” 
Anakin’s lips smirk against your neck. “Please what? Please… split you open with my cock? Please… fuck you until your pussy is sore? Tell me. What do you want?” 
Oh. Anakin’s low, gruff voice is enough to make you tremble. But these words? There aren’t enough words in the galaxy to describe how they make you feel. He’s never spoken to you like this. Dirty talk is one thing but Maker, that is kriffing filth. And you want it. You want everything he said. You want to be fucked so well, so hard that all you can think about is Anakin and how good he makes you feel. Anakin grabs your hands, threading his fingers between yours and holds them by your head. His nose brushes yours and you’re acutely aware that he still hasn’t kissed you. The last time he kissed you was before you left for Nal Hutta two weeks ago. 
“I want you to kiss me, Ani,” you say sweetly. “And then… and then I want you to fuck me until I’m sore.” 
That’s enough for him. His lips finally slant over yours as he rolls his hips toward you, cock slipping into your hole with little resistence. It’s not that it’s an easy fit— it’s just that you’re always nice and ready for him. Always wet and always willing to feel that lovely stretch. You’re both moaning into each other when Anakin bottoms out. You clench your walls, eliciting a heavy groan from the bottom of Anakin’s throat. He starts slow, going nice and easy on you before setting a brutal pace. You can feel every vein and ridge of his cock as he glides in and out of you. Your ankles lock around his waist and he wraps his arms around your back. He captures your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away from you. He drops his head beside yours, wild curls tickling your cheek as he begins thrusting into you just a bit harder and faster. 
“Oh, Maker, Ani-” you squeal. “It’s g-good, so good.” 
Anakin’s hips halt. He lifts his head and stares at you with brows knit together. “Just good?” he chuckles dryly. “Good isn’t good enough.” 
“That- that’s not what I meant, Ani-” you’re cut off when he pulls out of you and roughly grabs your hips and turns you over. 
“You and I both know I’m better than good,” Anakin’s words are covered with venom because how dare you insult him? With one hand still holding strongly onto your hip, he drags his cock through your slick folds but has no mercy with easing into you. He thrusts into you sharply, making you gasp and grip the sheets for purchase. 
“Anakin!” you yelp, squeezing your eyes together so tightly colors dance behind your lids. Anakin’s hips snap against your ass harhsly as he holds firmly to your hips.  
“Remind me of word you used, sweetheart. Good? Is this good enough for you, baby? Or do you need it harder?” 
Harder? He can go harder? Of course he can. Anakin Skywalker wields more strength and power than you can possibly understand. You’re not sure he even knows the full extent of his abilities. “Mmh,” you mumble against the mattress. “Hard- oh, Maker!” 
Anakin pulls on your hair, bringing your back up against his chest. “What was that, baby? I couldn’t hear you.” His mouth hovers over the shell of your ear and your head falls back against his shoulder. You’re absolutely blissed out when his hand finds your tight bundle of nerves.
“Hard- harder,” you fumble the word again because the pressure on your clit sends you soaring. Now coupled with the intense friction of Anakin’s relentless pace, you indeed feel like you’re being split in half. 
“This is ruining you, isn’t it? Letting me fuck you so hard you can’t even speak…” Anakin nips at your neck, leaving bruises only he can make on you. “Mine. You’re mine. Your body, your pussy, your orgasms. It’s all mine. I’m the one you’ll come home to. Every. Single. Time,” he accentuates those last three words with three blunt thrusts. He releases his seed, warmth spreading through your belly. 
“Yours,” you say through a whimper. You’re fluttering around him, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers through Anakin’s hair. “Love- fuck, Ani-” you can’t even finish your thought as you orgasm abruptly. It wracks through your whole body and you are certain to collapse if it weren’t for Anakin’s strong arms supporting you. “Ani… Anakin…” 
“I know,” he soothes, his voice returning to the gentle cadence you’re so used to. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He lays you back down on the bed, his cock coming out of you feels like a void you immediately want refilled. As if what he’s just given you isn’t enough. Aftershocks course through your limbs and you instinctively curl your legs inward. Anakin draws you near, resting your head on his chest. He runs his hand over your hair. “Was it too much?” 
“No,” you whisper, fingers drawing swirls on Anakin’s toned abdomen. “It was perfect, Ani. I missed you so much. I hated that you were mad at me.”
Anakin sighs. “I was never truly mad at you, sweetheart. I was… I was mad at myself for overreacting. Because I know you’re right.” 
You perk your head up. “What? What did you just say?” 
Your boyfriend rolls his eyes but flashes the smile that still makes you swoon. “Don’t make me say it again.” 
“Please? Just once,” you tut your bottom lip out and bat your lashes. Oh, how can he say no to that? 
“You were right.” 
“Of course, I was,” you say smugly. “I just had to let you come to the conclusion on your own.” 
Anakin pinches your side playfully. “You have very interesting methods.” 
“And you don’t?” 
“I suppose you’re right,” Anakin kisses the top of your head, followed by a yawn. 
“You sleepy, Ani?” 
“Mhm,” he hums. “Very sleepy.” 
Your sweet boy is back. And you wish your sweet boy only the sweetest of dreams. “I love you, Anakin Skywalker.”
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MWAH MWAH THANK U FOR READING I HOPE YOU ENJOYED :D
◂ anakin masterlist ▸ main masterlist
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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago
Note
I already submitted a request, so I don't know if I can do it again. If not, then sorry, and ignore my message.
You wrote that we can request something of our own. How about any of these options?
1.Gojo loves his wife very much. And when the Elders send her 24/7 without rest on dangerous missions. Gojo becomes very angry with the elders.
2.Gojo again boasts to the reader that he is the strongest. But she answers him that he does not have to be the strongest with her, he can just be Satoru.
I just had to write that first idea down, thank you so much <3 Hope you enjoy!
A word of power
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Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader
Word Count: 1,8k
Synopsis: When his wife is sent to missions over and over until it visibly gets to her, Gojo decides to do something against it.
Warnings: lanugage, mentions of injury, not proofread
„Hey darling.“
Your heavy footsteps echo through the dark hallways of your apartment, eyelids hanging heavy in your face. That was a rough mission. The how many? You lost count at 20. It seems like all you do is exorcise, eat, sleep a few hours and repeat everything. You loved being a jujutsu sorcerer by heart, it is a great honor for you to be able to help people this way. But nights like this, when you don’t get to enjoy the warmth of your own home until well after midnight, it really gets to you.
“There you are honey, what took you so long?”
But no matter how rough the mission was, no matter how late you come back, this one person is always there to greet you with a cup of hot tea and a shoulder to cry on. After all, your husband knows well enough how it feels to carry the burden of being a strong jujutsu sorcerer. With the slight difference that he is in fact the strongest.
“Oh, y’know…Things got a little heated, had some new students by my side to watch. One of them got injured so I stayed with him and Shoko until he was well enough to survive the night. Tomorrow I’ll have to leave pretty early in the morning”, you explain briefly, barely able to formulate a straight sentence.
Satoru’s eyes scan over your bruised and feeble looking body. How many missions in a row do you have to endure until these old farts decide to give you a break? You are an outstanding jujutsu sorcerer, probably better than anyone else at Jujutsu High apart from himself. And you have a heart of gold – too good for these people. They use you and you don’t seem to mind as long as you help the weaker and your students out. Normally Gojo admires you for composure, endurance and strength. But haven’t you given enough? Even the strongest need rest from time to time.
“I don’t like the way they are treating you. You are pushed from mission to mission, (y/n). This can’t go on like this, I haven’t really seen you for days. You’re only home to sleep and eat something from time to time.”
You let yourself fall in his lap, instantly greeted by his strong arms. Oh, it feels so good to be back where you belong – in the embrace of your beloved husband.
“You know it yourself: the worst part about being strong is that no one ever asks if you’re okay”, you sign.
He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead, but his body tenses under you. Satoru already told you multiple times that it can’t go on like this. And even though you secretly agree with him, you see no other way. The people need you, as well as your students. Maybe it just isn’t part of the job to have many breaks.
“But I do. And I care about my wife’s wellbeing more than about Jujutsu High itself. I will talk to them. I can’t watch anymore.”
“Satoru.”
Your tired eyes lock with his. You had this talk over and over. Even though you really appreciate his concern, you don’t want him to use the power he has for you.
“You know what I think about that, please don’t.”
“But baby, I really miss you! You lost a fair amount of weight, you sleep maybe 8 hours a week and are constantly worn out. It can’t go on like this. I know that this isn’t a job but your passion and that you refuse to let anyone down, but at the moment, you neglect yourself the most. You need to be your own priority. And if you don’t want to stand up for yourself, be sure that I will. Because I love you with all my heart and I promised to be there for you.”
You really don’t deserve him. Satoru looks after you like no other, his six eyes always set upon you. How can a woman be so lucky and call him her wife? To be honest, you still have no clue why he chose you. Was is because you are strong? Or because you’re smart? Maybe it was for your looks, but there are tons of beautiful women on this earth. You hug him a little tighter.
“I love you, Satoru”, you breathe out, small smile hanging on your lips while your mind slowly drifts away.
Sleep. Sleep sounds good at the moment. Maybe you can rest your eyes for a few seconds…
“(y/n), are you still with me?”
No reaction. The air is only filled by your soft and monotone breathing. He smiles at you tenderly, hands wrapped around your knees and back in order to carry you into the bedroom where you belong. He knows you hate it when he stands up for you, stating that he shouldn’t use the power he holds as the strongest to send you into vacation. Although being married to him, you want to stay independent in your job. Oh, what a great catch you are. But this can’t go on like this.
He lays your passed out body gently on the bed and tucks you in, thumb gently caressing your cheek. How is it possible that even after 2 years of marriage, he still admires your beauty like on the first day he met you at Jujutsu High? No matter how tired and worn out you are, no matter that your body is marked by your work. You must be the most beautiful woman in this world – externally and internally.
Satoru’s hands ball into fists. And that is exactly why he has to do something against this madness. You might be tender, sacrificing selfless, but he is certainly not when it comes to you. They won’t get away with this.
_____________________________________________________________
“Don’t do anything stupid, darling”, you warn him, eyes still glistering from lack of sleep.
You know that look on his face all too well. It doesn’t sit right with him that you leave, especially this early. But you have no other choice. These people need you, as well as your students. When you became a jujutsu sorcerer, you knew it would be hard work and that you have to put your own needs on the back burner. Oh, how much you’d love to spend a day with your husband at Jujutsu High, finally teaching the young how to use their abilities again.
But this is your destiny now. And if you can make your contribution with that, you will simply endure it.
“Don’t know when I’ll come home. I text you when it’s over. Love you”, you place a small kiss on his cheek and take in his scent one last time before you leave again.
Satoru puts on his uniform and makes his way to Jujutsu High. Fuck your determination and prohibitions. He doesn’t care about those anyway. The only thing that’s important to him at the moment is your well-being.
“You’ve got some nerve”, he starts, bursting into the room where Yoshinobu Gakuganji, Masamichi Yaga and some other old farts are gathered on the floor, gazing at him with nothing but annoyance in their eyes.
“You can’t just barge in here like that”, Gakuganji comments.
“I really don’t give a fuck. How is it that my wife has been sent on missions without a break for months? Find someone else to do your dirty work”, Satoru hisses, face visibly irritated even though he’s wearing his blindfold.
“She never complained though. You know yourself that jujutsu sorcerers don’t grow like grass in a meadow. She’s efficient, sturdy and straightforward. She’s old enough to take care of her own, Satoru”, Yaga replies dryly.
Is this for real? Again, Satoru’s hands ball into fists, whole body on fire. Are they actually listening to themselves?
“Yeah, she never complained because she literally never does, boneheads. That was her last mission for time being, otherwise I’ll torch the whole place here. Never forget that it’s my wife we’re talking about.”
“You would never do that”, Utahime remarks.
“Don’t. Test. Me.”
“This is my last warning. Put her back as a teacher, which is actually her main job in this rat hole. If something like that happens again, I’ll make your life living hell. Mark my words.”
And with that, Gojo storms out of the room, leaving everyone in awe. They have never seen him this serious and angry. Maybe you really do need a break.
“I have to say…(y/n) worked her ass off over the last few weeks, more than any other jujutsu sorcerer…”, Gakuganji throws into the room.
“You can’t imagine what happened!”, you yell through the whole apartment, a smile creeping up Satoru’s face.
“I bet you’ll tell my in just a second”, he replies.
“I’ve got some time off, no mission in sight! And I will get to finally teach again. God, I really miss the students”, you groan, letting yourself fall into Satoru’s arms.
“What a lucky coincidence. They must have finally realized that you are working yourself up.”
“Don’t fool me, I know exactly that you have something to do with this. Even though I told you not to.”
“(y/n), I would never do that! As a good husband, I would never in a million years even think about doing something you told me not to do!”, he dramatically announces.
“You threatened them, didn’t you?”
“Well, y’know. I told them a few things”, he admits with a sly smile
You want to be mad at him for disregarding you, but you simply can’t. Deep within, you are way too relieved over a good amount of sleep that you can even think about lashing out on him for helping you.
“Please tell me you weren’t mean.”
You wrap your arms around his large frame and kiss him passionately. God, how much you missed this. Finally you are able to enjoy time with your husband again, to wake up next to him in the morning and snuggle up to him, no following mission lingering through your mind. Only now you realize how tired and worn out you actually are. If it wasn’t for Satoru you’d probably break down rather sooner than later. Maybe you really need to stand up for yourself more…
“Oh, I was. But I don’t want to think about these old farts right now. Let’s go to bed instead.”
“Nothing better than that”, you mumble against his chest while sleep consumes you all over again.
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minispidey · 1 year ago
Text
01: Barbie and the Giftshopist.
Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader. series masterlist. next part.
01. This Barbie is his new neighbor!
warnings: uses y/n once, get ready for kinda cringey bimbor!reader. over-use of the word like. extremely feminine reader. reference to elle woods. NOT BETA READ.
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"Yeah, but like, I totes believe her. I mean she's totes being framed. I wanna help her." as Steven got off of the lift, he sees multiple boxes out in the hallway and hears a woman's voice talking to someone.
You walk out of the flat in front of his to push in the rest of your things. You were wearing something someone moving in shouldn't be wearing: a pink lace top, flared pink pants and cute high heels. You had a purse and everything.
"I need an alibi from her. Like, she can't just like go to jail for something she didn't do. That's a crime itself." you held your phone in between your shoulder and ear "I'm totally bugging. Where's a good manipedi here?"
"Uh, I think there's a salon across from the baker around the corner?" Steven spoke up from behind you.
You turn to face him, blinking twice "I'll call you back. I'll see you at the office." you end your call and smiled at him "Thanks so much. My nails have suffered too much this past week. Oh, we're neighbors!"
"It seems like we are."
"I'm Y/N. It's so nice to meet you." you two shake hands "I'm like, really struggling with these boxes. And I know I'd be like super desperate, but I am, but can you help me, please?" you smiled brightly, even batting your long eyelashes.
"Oh, uh, yes, absolutely." he said, taking a couple of the boxes from the hallway.
You kept kicking some of the boxes in with your pink high heels, clearly impatient and trying to push them all in. Steven halts your actions by picking them up and setting them down inside.
"You gotta uh, carry the boxes inside. They get stuck when you just push them." entering your flat, he placed more boxes down. He could see your walls were already painted a different color: pink. Steven was surprised to see such a bold choice of color, but he could already tell by your outfit what kind of woman you were.
A woman with great fashion-sense.
You were beautiful. Something about you was just so alluring, so hypnotic. He couldn't even believe a beautiful woman like you was talking to him, let alone letting him enter your flat. But he did notice you were a bit of a ditz.
"Do you need any help with anything else?" Steven asked, turning around as he spoke. His ears were slightly red because of the way you looked at him.
"That's all. Thanks so much." you smiled "I just moved here, and like, still adjusting."
"It's not a problem at all. If you need anything, don't be shy. I'm just in front."
"That's so nice of you! Totes, I'd definitely need some help. Oh shoot, I never got your name."
"It's fine. I-It's Steven."
"It's so nice to meet you, Steven."
His eyes shifted to the racks filled with clothes. Pink, to be exact. You were extremely feminine. He spots furs and his brows furrow a bit "Er... uh..."
"They're faux fur. Can't tell the difference anymore." you giggled, wheeling them to a corner with the rest of your clothes.
"Oh. Well, they're very nice." Steven smiled "Are you a model?"
"Gosh, that's such a compliment. No one's ever said that before. But no, just love clothes. How about you? Wait wait! Let me guess..."
Steven found it adorable as you squint your eyes, thinking of what his job is.
"Are you like... a sculptor? No, a painter! Am I close?"
"I work at a gift-shop, actually. A giftshopist." he smiled.
"No way. You have really pretty hands, you could be like a hand model. Or like I said, a painter."
Steven blushed like a mad man "Thank you. No one's ever complimented my hands."
"You're pretty handsome, you know? It's like... gosh you have a nice nose too." the way you complimented him was as if he was a sculpture.
Steven's heart almost stopped when you casually mentioned how handsome he was. You were incredibly blunt about it for someone he had just met.
"Thank you." he said, his cheeks turning a shade of pink. Something about you saying it that make his body feel all warm. It's such a strange and unusual feeling for him.
"No, but like seriously. You are so handsome. It's like driving me a bit cray, you get it, right? Gosh, I sound like a total creep."
Hearing the same thing two times in a row sent him into quite a little flutter. He had never been one to be flirted with and the combination of how direct you were, plus how much you were repeating yourself certainly made him feel something.
"No, it's fine. No, you don't sound like creep, it's totally fine." he looks back up at you "I'm just... I'm not used to... it."
"Used to what? Being called handsome?"
"Yeah." Steven chuckled, the sound escaping his mouth in such a high pitched and nervous way that it sounded almost like a squeak "And uh, being flirted with..."
Your phone suddenly rings, making you two jump up. You take your phone out, looking at the caller ID "So sorry. I gotta take this."
"Oh, no worries." he clears his throat, taking the opportunity to collect his thoughts and calm his racing heart and mind.
"I, uh, I should go now." he says "I'll see you around, luv."
"I'll see you around, Steven." you gave him a smile before answering your phone, pacing back and fourth across your flat.
As Steven enters his flat, his heart calms down but his cheeks were still red. His eyes shifted towards a mirror, a clearly judging Marc staring right back at him.
"So. You like her?"
"Oh come on, Marc. I just met her."
That evening, Steven heard a knock outside his door. His ears were perked up as he approached the door, opening it to find you in your cute animal print night dress and holding a casserole dish "Okay, so like, I got called in to the office earlier and I never got to properly thank you."
"It's not big deal, luv." he blushed "They're just boxes."
"And really heavy ones. You are like, super strong. Plus I finally got my manipedi." you giggled "I made lasagna in the office but I got leftovers, do you wanna split?"
"Uh... actually I'm vegan."
"Oh gosh, I'm like so sorry. That explains the fur thing!"
"Yeah." he nods "It's alright, luv. I don't wear a big ol sign saying I'm vegan."
"Well... I was just hoping we could hangout because you seem like a really nice guy. I mostly bond with food."
"It's alright, uh..." Steven looks behind him, looking if his place was presentable "If you want, you can eat it here while we chat? Maybe a cup of tea? I've stepped inside your flat, might as well welcome you into mine."
"Really? That's so nice of you! I swear, when I get my stove and oven I'll make you something vegan."
"You really don't have to. I assure you, it's alright."
"Don't worry! I can cook."
Ever since that day, Steven is ecstatic to wake up everyday and greet you in the morning as you both went off to work.
Your clothes were always consistent with the pinks and whites, but you always looked professional as you head off to work.
Steven began to guess what your profession was. You said you weren't a model, perhaps a designer? A professor?
He snapped out of his thoughts when you placed a plate of fried tofu with some sauce over it and spring onions.
"Stevie, do you know where I could like, donate books? Mine are sooo expensive but someone might want to use them." you asked as you cleaned up your countertop.
"Yeah, why?"
"Okay so like, Jean, he's like a newbie, he totally bugged me. Brags that he loves to donate his stuff. He once donated a canoe. He says like he was a hoarder back then. I thought to myself, am I hoarding?" you spin, facing Steven "I totally am! I have books I won't need anymore and I don't have bookshelves anyways."
"I have spots in my bookcase. Maybe I could take them off your hands?" Steven looks up at you with a smile "I don't mind. They have sentimental value?"
"Very. Plus, they were soooo expensive I swear. I could've bought like fifteen more pairs of heels if I hadn't bought them. Or maybe just a pair of Choos."
"What kind of books are they exactly?"
"Law."
"Law?"
"Law." you clear your throat, lifting your arm and bending your wrist in a dramatic way "I'm a lawyer, obvi."
Steven was slightly taken aback by the news. He certainly wouldn't have guessed that right "You're a-a lawyer? Oh, wow, that's super impressive. Wait, how are you dressed the way you are if you're a lawyer? Don't they make you wear suits and stuff?"
"Duhh, I wear pink ones! You see me wear them to work every morning." you smiled "I have a lot."
Steven's truly never met a woman like you.
"You're incredible..."
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aliesbienish · 2 months ago
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A study of wolves - part five
chapter one ✩ chapter two ✩ chapter three ✩ chapter four
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Your legs ached from the hiking, and your arms were definitely slightly sunburnt but otherwise your first day on the job had been a success.
The sun was starting to set as you and Paul drove back into the Rez. In no mood to cook you had already decided a trip to Sue’s was in order.
“Paul thank you for today, especially for getting me there and back in one piece.”
“No need to thank me, it’s literally my job,”
“Still, you put up with my relentless questions, and teasing, and impressively slow walking without complaining…much. I know you weren’t that keen on helping out today but I’m really glad you did.”
“Me too. I was just hesitant to get to know a new person, an outsider especially, so I’m sorry for making you think I didn’t want to be here. Maybe that was initially the case but I promise that went away very quickly,”
“I’m pleased, can’t have you thinking I have anything less than a stellar personality.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,”
“If you wouldn’t mind could you show me where Sue’s is? I think I’ll go straight there for dinner. You are absolutely more than welcome to join me”
“I’d never say no to Sues’ burger.”
The idle chit chat continued across the table as you and Paul finished your meals. The diner itself was small and cozy, with tribal artwork splashed across the walls and delicate wood carvings etched into the furniture. The food too was delicious, and definitely worth coming back for throughout your stay.
Paul was also proving to be just as good company inside as he was outside.
He happily chatted about the tribe, and the natural forests around the error. He was clearly linked to the land he grew up, despite the earlier comments about moving away. However he did seem to steer clear about his upbringing, never mentioning any parents or siblings.
It was hard not be nosy, you had an intrinsic desire to learn every little thing about him, but you managed to hold off.
“So how about tomorrow, did you get the short straw?”
“The short straw?”
“Being my babysitter.”
“That straw isn’t short. I initially didn’t, Jared was suppose to help out tomorrow. But I may have already texted him to let him know that I am taking over. There’s no way I’m letting him have the satisfaction of seeing the first wolf sighting.”
“Should I be honored, or is this purely to one up your best friend?”
“The latter for sure. If I knew how to operate the camera I’d ditch you as well and head up there myself. Steal the glory.”
“Well at least your honest. But just know I will be sending a heads up to everyone in my phone contacts. Wouldn’t want you to get rid of me once we have the photo.”
“Darn, you foiled my plan.”
Your chuckling was abruptly interrupted by a nasal voice piercing both your ear drums.
“Paul, fancy running into you here” A blonde haired, pink sweatsuit clad, lady declared from the edge of the table.
“Oh. Lauren, hi,” You could hear the drop in Paul’s voice, seemingly just as upset at the intrusion as you were. “What are you doing on the reservation?”
“I was spending the day on the beach with my friends, just thought I’d stop in for a coffee before I drove back to Forks. I’m glad I did!”
“That’s nice, well it was lovely to see you. Looks like your coffee is ready so you’d better get it and head off”
“Don’t be silly, I can drink it here with you ,”
“I’m really sorry Laura, but we’re actually busy at the moment. I’m sure Paul can talk to you some other time.” You interjected, not comfortable with the intense stare she was giving Paul. The girl hadn’t even looked in your direction once. Hopefully you weren’t misreading Paul’s feelings on the girl, but the grimace on his face seemed like a good indicator.
“It’s Lauren, actually. And who are you?”
“This is [y/n], and we were actually having a private conversation.”
“I can wait! Then we could go out….or stay in. Up to you,” Lauren playfully pouted. You almost groaned in the second hand embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen Lauren. I’m not interested in you like that,”
“Are you kidding?” She hissed, “and you’re interested in her?” Pointing a sharped clawed finger in your direction.
You prepared yourself for a polite no, but when Paul opened his mouth you thought you had misheard him.
“Absolutely.”
next chapter
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3liza · 2 years ago
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thank you for speaking rational thought AS AN ARTIST into the ai debate. i get so tired of people over simplifying, generalizing, and parroting how they’ve been told ai works lmao. you’re an icon
some of the worst AI art alarmists are professional artists as well but theyre in very specific fields with very specific work cultures and it would take a long and boring post to explain all the nuance there but i went to the same extremely tiny, hypefocused classic atelier school in San Francisco as Karla Ortiz and am actually acquainted with her irl so i have a different perspective on this particular issue and the people involved than the average fan artist on tumblr. the latter person is also perfectly valid and so is their work, all im saying is that we have different life experiences and my particular one has accidentally placed me in a weird and relevant position to observe what the AI art panic is actually about.
first thing i did when the pearl-clutching about AI art started is go on the Midjourney discord, which is completely public and free, and spent a few burner accounts using free credits to play with the toolset. everyone who has any kind of opinion about AI art should do the same because otherwise you just wont know what youre talking about. my BIGGEST takeaway is that it is currently and likely always will be (because of factors that are sort of hard to explain) extremely difficult to make an AI like Midjourney spit out precisely wht you want UNLESS what you want is the exact kind of hyperreal, hyperpretty Artstation Front Page 4k HDR etc etc style pictures that, coincidentally, artists like Karla Ortiz have devoted their careers to. Midjourney could not, when asked, make a decent Problem Glyph. or even anything approaching one. and probably never will, because there isn't any profit incentive for it to do so and probably not enough images to train a dataset anyway.
the labor issues with AI are real, but they are the result of the managerial class using AI's existence as an excuse to reduce compensation for labor. this happens at every single technological sea change and is unstoppable, and the technology itself is always blamed because that is beneficial to the capitalists who are actually causing the labor crisis each time. if you talk to the artists who are ACTUALLY already being affected, they will tell you what's happening is managers are telling them to insert AI into workflows in ways that make no sense, and that management have fully started an industry-wide to "pivot" to AI production in ways that aren't going to work but WILL result in mass loss of jobs and productivty and introduce a lot of problems which people will then be hired to try to fix, but at greatly-reduced salaries. every script written and every picture generated by an AI, without human intervention/editing/cleanup, is mostly unusable for anything except a few very specific use cases that are very tolerant of generality. i'm seeing it being used for shovelware banner ads, for example, as well as for game assets like "i need some spooky paintings for the wall of a house environment" or "i need some nonspecific movie posters for a character's room" that indie game devs are making really good use of, people who can neither afford to hire an artist to make those assets and cant do them themselves, and if the ai art assets weren't available then that person would just not have those assets in the game at all. i've seen AI art in that context that works great for that purpose and isn't committing any labor crimes.
it is also being used for book covers by large publishing houses already, and it looks bad and resulted directly in the loss of a human job. it is both things. you can also pay your contractor for half as many man hours because he has a nailgun instead of just hammers. you can pay a huge pile of money to someone for an oil portrait or you can take a selfie with your phone. there arent that many oil painters around anymore.
but this is being ignored by people like the guy who just replied and yelled at me for the post they imagined that i wrote defending the impending robot war, who is just feeling very hysterical about existential threat and isn't going to read any posts or actually do any research about it. which is understandable but supremely unhelpful, primarily to themselves but also to me and every other fellow artist who has to pay rent.
one aspect of this that is both unequivocally True AND very mean to point out is that the madder an artist is about AI art, the more their work will resemble the pretty, heavily commercialized stuff the AIs are focused on imitating. the aforementioned Artstation frontpage. this is self-feeding loop of popular work is replicated by human artists because it sells and gets clicks, audience is sensitized to those precise aesthetics by constant exposure and demands more, AI trains on those pictures more than any others because there are more of those pictures and more URLs pointing back to those pictures and the AI learns to expect those shapes and colors and forms more often, mathematically, in its prediction models. i feel bad for these people having their style ganked by robots and they will not be the only victims but it is also true, and has always been true, that the ONLY way to avoid increasing competition in a creative field is to make yourself so difficult to imitate that no one can actually do it. you make a deal with the devil when you focus exclusively on market pleasing skills instead of taking the massive pay cut that comes with being more of a weirdo. theres no right answer to this, nor is either kind of artist better, more ideologically pure, or more talented. my parents wanted me to make safe, marketable, hotel lobby art and never go hungry, but im an idiot. no one could have predicted that my distaste for "hyperreal 4k f cup orc warrior waifu concept art depth of field bokeh national geographic award winning hd beautiful colorful" pictures would suddenly put me in a less precarious position than people who actually work for AAA studios filling beautiful concept art books with the same. i just went to a concept art school full of those people and interned at a AAA studio and spent years in AAA game journalism and decided i would rather rip ass so hard i exploded than try to compete in such an industry.
which brings me to what art AIs are actually "doing"--i'm going to be simple in a way that makes computer experts annoyed here, but to be descriptive about it, they are not "remixing" existing art or "copying" it or carrying around databases of your work and collaging it--they are using mathematical formulae to determine what is most likely to show up in pictures described by certain prompts and then manifesting that visually, based on what they have already seen. they work with the exact same very basic actions as a human observing a bunch of drawings and then trying out their own. this is why they have so much trouble with fingers, it's for the same reason children's drawings also often have more than 5 fingers: because once you start drawing fingers its hard to stop. this is because all fingers are mathematically likely to have another finger next to them. in fact most fingers have another finger on each side. Pinkies Georg, who lives on the end of your limb and only has one neighbor, is an outlier and Midjourney thinks he should not have been counted.
in fact a lot of the current failings by AI models in both visual art and writing are comparable to the behavior of human children in ways i find amusing. human children will also make up stories when asked questions, just to please the adult who asked. a robot is not a child and it does not have actual intentions, feelings or "thoughts" and im not saying they do. its just funny that an AI will make up a story to "Get out of trouble" the same way a 4 year old tends to. its funny that their anatomical errors are the same as the ones in a kindergarten classroom gallery wall. they are not people and should not be personified or thought of as sapient or having agency or intent, they do not.
anyway. TLDR when photography was invented it became MUCH cheaper and MUCH faster to get someone to take your portrait, and this resulted in various things happening that would appear foolish to be mad about in this year of our lord 2023 AD. and yet here we are. if it were me and it was about 1830 and i had spent 30 years learning to paint, i would probably start figuring out how to make wet plate process daguerreotypes too. because i live on earth in a technological capitalist society and there's nothing i can do about it and i like eating food indoors and if i im smart enough to learn how to oil paint i can certainly point a camera at someone for 5 minutes and then bathe the resulting exposure in mercury vapor. i know how to do multiple things at once. but thats me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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schrodinger-swriter · 10 months ago
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Hello! I just saw your fluff alphabet and would like to request A, I, K, O, P, Q, and U for Sir Pentious. Thank you! :)
I, K, O, P, Q, and U for Sir Pentious
You can find A in the previous alphabet post for Sir Pentious, I hope you don't mind not having it all in one post!
I hope you enjoy this, Anon C:
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INJURY:
He would cope.. not very well if you were to get hurt. Given that it was hell that was a likely probability. He often sends one, or even up to three, of his egg boiz with you to keep an eye on you when he isn't around. He may even scold his eggs for allowing you to get hurt, no matter how unfair it would be. He would fret over you, treating the most basic injury as if it were a death sentence. You will more than likely have to tell him that you're not dying, and that he needs to calm down... just a little bit... If he were the one injured, I can see him trying to walk it off in the beginning... but seeing the attention he's getting from you, he might try to milk it.. just a tad. He won't ask you to do every little thing for him or overplay some of the pain, but he will definitely ask for more affection than usual!
KISSES:
He loves taking your hand and kissing it, likely dipping down as he does it to really push the dramatics. He loves kissing you on the mouth, too. Short pecks, long kisses, anything in the middle, he loves it. Going into the relationship he didn't think he had a preference of where he was kissed, but he quickly learns that he loves receiving kisses on his cheeks. Please give him a peck before you go out to do something, his hood will fan out in an instant as a grin tugs itself over his face.
ODDITY:
Everything. He's a creative and an inventor, it's kind of in the job description to be at least a little odd! He will approach you in excitement as he rattles off about an idea for a new invention he's come up with (and also, to seek for your approval if it's not meant to be a surprise for you..)
Sometimes he will go on a tangent about an invention and the skills needed for it, which might lead to him having to explain those smaller details.. has a habit of sometimes overexplaining or underexplaining.. he doesn't mean to, he's just so excited and is a little all over the place as he doesn't get much of a chance to ramble to someone about this interest of his!
He has a habit of tugging on his hood when he's embarrassed or stressed, sometimes even pulling it over his face if he's feeling particularly flustered.
PETNAMES:
"My Darling," "My Dear," "My Love," and above all else, he calls you his Beloved. He almost completely replaces your name with them when you two fully establish your relationship, only reserving your actual name for rare occasion.
As for what he likes being called... Naturally, he has a soft spot for terms of endearment from his time, but I think he would be just as ecstatic if you called him anything sweet. I like to believe he likes to be called "Sweetheart," or any variation of the "Sweet___" nicknames!
QUESTION:
Hmm... this one is a hard one... but I think sometimes he would ask for reassurance. Not just that you still love him, but to confirm things about you. Totally not because he's making something for you... and he wants you to confirm a hype specific question of what your favorite color is down to the pantone code or something along those lines... heh..
I think at some point within the series, depending on where it is in the timeline he might start asking you if you believe it's possible to ascend to Heaven after being sent to Hell. Things about the quickly approaching extermination. A lot of those questions turn into promises of victory.
UPSET:
When Sir Pentious is upset he tends to seek you out, whether he be angry or sad or stressed. He finds comfort in you, and spending time with you is by far the best stress relief for him than anything else in Hell. Usually, to cheer him up you two just talk or do an activity together! Though if he's feeling worse than usual, he might have himself sit alone in his room for a while.. this is more common before the relationship/within the early stages of it.
If you're the one upset he's going to try his best to make you feel better. Making quick inventions to bring a smile to your face, letting you vent to him.. and perhaps, if someone upset you he would try to confront them... that... usually doesn't end in his favor, leaving him bloody and bruised... but hey if he can survive getting blasted into the sky by Alastor, then he can survive most anything!
May send one of his egg boiz to keep an eye on you and/or check in on you if you're upset with him. Being apart is killing him inside, and he feels so so bad. He's already doing way more than he needs to in order to win over your forgiveness. He will grovel, too.
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mustainegf · 4 months ago
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→ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 —➤ 𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑮𝑬𝑻 𝑴𝑬 𝑵𝑶𝑻
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We later sat with the fire, where the flames chased away the cold that froze in the air. He took to poking, tending the fire with skilled hands. The sun streamed in through the trees, making everything, for once, feel normal.
"Did you sleep well, dear?" James asked softly as he turned toward me.
I nodded with a small smile. "Yes, thank you... I feel better."
He smiled back at me with those warm eyes of his. "I see you returned my jacket." He gestured to the coat now wrapped around his own form. "That meant a lot to me. Even though I’d rather you have it, thank you."
His look warmed my chest with a small flame that had nothing to do with the fire itself. "I didn't want you to be cold," I answered softly. "You've done enough for me already."
James nodded, thoughtful and settled beside me on the log. For one small moment or so, we sat without talking, sorting the popped fire. Then his face became graver, and I already knew he was going to broach the subject he had mentioned last night.
"Clarice," he said, and his voice was serious and cautious, "there is something important I need to discuss with you."
I turned fully to face him, my interest now piqued, but my stomach sloshing. "What is it?" I asked, sounding like a mouse.
James sucked in a deep breath, his eyes meeting mine very slowly. "I've been tracking down a gang of horse thieves for some time. They've been causing a hell of a lot of trouble in these parts, and it's been my job to find ‘em and put a stop to it."
I felt the unease pooling as I listened, still a bit confused why he was telling me this. The mention of a gang of criminals in the area just complicated my already confounded situation.
"With your amnesia, I was worried that perhaps you may be one of their victims," James continued. "I wonder if they might have something to do with why you were out in the wilderness all on your own, hurt."
His words scared me, and I tried to focus on his face, hoping his steady gaze might loosen some more details from my memory. "I… I don't know," I stammered, for my mind raced to remember anything that might be helpful. "I can't remember much of anything..."
James extended a hand, and I gave it an urgent grasp, ignoring my heavy beating heart as he held my hand in his. "I know this isn't easy, but do you think you might be able to tell me something? Anything that you might be able to remember?"
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried with all my might to work with him. Partial images flickered through my mind, but nothing became complete, nothing I could offer him. Frustration and helplessness both boiled in my stomach at the same time, and I could feel my chest getting tighter.
"I can't..I can't remember anything," I quavered.
His hold on my hand tightened somewhat, his thumb working in soothing circles against my skin, and it was the only thing I could think about. "It's all right, hun," he said softly. "You don't gotta remember right now. We can try again some other time."
Tears of frustration tried to spring to my eyes, and I bit my lip to keep them back. "I want to remember," I whispered. "I want to know what happened to me."
His face softened, and he reached out to brush a stray tear from my cheek. "I know you want to," he said gently, "and you’ll remember. But for now, you need to heal. The answers will come back to you when you're ready again."
"Thank you, James," I fell to saying in a very low tone. "For everything."
He smiled at me again, warm and honest, like safety had a form. "We’ll find the answers."
As we sat together by that fire, I again started to sense a new strength inside of me. With James, I felt good. But for now, he was my resting place.
James leaned back a bit, eyes still on mine and still soft with worry. "Clarice, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about," he said finally.
I turned my attention to him once more, beginning to realize that he was still holding my hand. "What is it?"
He shifted a little, his expression turning thoughtful. "I was thinking it might be a good idea to go into town today. There's a few things we could get for you, like a proper jacket and some other things."
James must have felt my unease, for he squeezed my hand tighter. I couldn’t get my mind off of the fact he was really clutching onto me like that.
"I know it's a lot to take in," he said, carefully. "And I don't want to push you if you're not ready. But I really do think it could be helpful, because I’m not leaving you here at the camp all alone."
I took a deep, heavy breath, trying to steady my already rising nerves. "I'm just... scared," I admitted, my voice barely heard, even by my own ears. "What if I panic again?"
James squeezed my hand reassuringly. "If you start getting too overwhelmed, we can leave right away. How’s that sound?"
His words were soothing, but I was still on edge. "What if they think I'm. strange? What if I did something wrong, James? And I just can’t remember it?"
James shook his head, his face firm. "You have every right to be there as much as anybody. And if any of them give you trouble, they'll have to deal with me, You hear me?"
The determination in his voice lent me a small boost of confidence for now. "Alright," I finally managed to spit out. "I'll go with you. But. can you stay with me? I don't want to be alone."
"Of course," James replied without a single hesitation. "I’ll be there the whole time."
His promise made me feel a little more at ease. "Okay," I said, nodding. "I’ll go."
James smiled, and it was a warm, encouraging expression that made me feel a little safer. "Good. We'll finish up here and then head into town." He slipped his hand away from mine to smack down on his knees, sitting up. I missed his hand in mine.
"Thank you, James," I said, feeling a mix of gratitude and nervousness.
He nodded and stood up, giving the fire one final stroke before turning towards me.
I found myself standing beside Maverick, gently running my fingers through his mane. He nickered softly, seeming to enjoy the attention. His coat was smooth and warm under my motions, the slight feel of dust left on my hand..
James came up finally. "Ready to go?" He nodded encouragingly as the skin around his eyes crinkled with a smile.
I nodded but was unsure of my emotional state, but I decided this was for the best. "Yeah, I think so."
He smiled and motioned to help me mount Maverick. His big hands came around my waist, and I felt my heart shiver just a little from his strength. I was always really surprised by how easily he hoisted me onto Maverick's back, but obvious that he was very strong.
"Comfortable?" he asked, hooking his foot in the stirrup.
I nodded again. James swung up behind me on the horse, clutching me tight as he took the reins. His proximity was so soothing, I edged fractionally into him for his security.
"Hold tight," he said softly, his breath warm at my ear, which only made the confusing feeling in my belly pool deeper.
A gentle nudge and Maverick was under. For some time, we rode in silence as the landscape blurred past us in colors and shapes. I smiled, cantering through the open countryside.
Before I knew it a very detailed image shot into mine. I could clearly picture myself in the tent back at the camp. James’ arms held me right to his large body, lips meeting my temple in soft kisses.
I tried to shake the thought, chalking it up to my confusing amnesia.
An hour or so later, we rode into a different town from the one we'd visited the previous day. This was a smaller, more secluded one, and an air of hospitality oozed from its every pore. James reined Maverick in about the middle of town, and we slipped off together.
"Let's get you some things," James said, his hand resting protectively on my shoulder as we walked.
We left the bright morning sun behind us as we pushed open the door to a small general store, its entrance clanged by a bell jangling above it.
The store was nice and full of goods and supplies crowding onto shelves. Behind the counter, a quirky, gray-haired man greeted us with a cheery smile.
"Morning, Sheriff," he nodded to James. "What am I to help you with today?"
"Morning, Ed," James replied with a returning smile. "We need to get some things for my friend here."
Ed's eyes shifted to me, and I immediately crawled into my shell. But his gaze was kind, and he nodded again. "Of course. What do you need, miss?"
James gently walked me through the store, guiding me on picking out a warm jacket, gloves, and other essentials. He did most of the picking and choosing, I just nodded along.
He insisted that I needed a new pair of boots because the soles of mine were worn through and barely held together.
The farther we worked into the shop, the more townsfolk turned to gaze at us, their eyes were curious but not hostile, probably wondering what a disturbed young woman was doing hobbling along with the sheriff.
I did my best to focus on James and what I was supposed to be doing, trying to push back against my sudden feel of being watched. He seemed to feel my unease and kept a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
He paid for what we'd gotten, and then we headed back out into the clean air. He helped me into my new jacket. The thick material felt warm against the cool breeze, but it was nothing like his. I smiled up a little more confidently now in my new items.
"Thanks, James," I whispered sincerely.
His smile was back, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling. "You're welcome, hun. I'm just pleased we could get you what you needed."
We returned to Maverick, and James boosted me up once more. He mounted behind me, his arms around me again as he took up the reins once more.
"Let's head on back," his voice was nice and warm, just like his jacket had been the day earlier..
I nodded against him, easing into his arms just a bit. Just as we were turning to leave the town, a woman's voice shouted out from behind us.
"Wait a minute! I know you? Sheriff, I know her!"
James reined Maverick to a stop, and we both turned to see a middle aged woman scampering towards us.
She approached us, a little winded. "You're that girl," she insisted, nodding her finger at me. "I saw you a few days ago with a group of men. Dragging you around like you were their prisoner, I’m so glad you’re alright my dear."
James's attitude snapped in an instant. He drew to protect me, standing slightly in front of me, his hand resting on the hilt of his revolver. "What do you mean?" he asked, commanding for more information. "Who were these men?"
She shook her head, her face troubled. "I don't know who they were, Sheriff, but they didn't look like they were up to any good. They were rough lookin’. I remember thinking that girl don’t belong with them."
It was such a far cry from my memory that everything was fuzzy, but this tale from the woman somehow stirred my thoughts up.
James turned toward me, clearly determined. "Do you remember anything about these men? What they looked like?" he asked in his soft, gravelly voice.
I shook my head. My mind was a swirling fog of uncertainty. "No, I- I don't... I can't remember.. much of anything."
This woman pouted at me with sympathy. "Poor thing," she frowned. "You looked so scared, my girl. I wish I could tell you more."
James nodded, his face grim as he tipped his black hat to her. "Appreciate you tellin' us," he said to her. "You remember anything else, anything at all, you let me know, okay?"
She nodded. "I will, Sheriff. You take good care of her now."
James reassured her that he would, and we turned our focus back on Maverick. As we again mounted Maverick, James's protective aura was stronger than ever.
As we rode away from the town, I could practically hear how deep James’ thoughts were. His body felt tense behind me, and I could hear his breathing, heavier than before. The realization that he was angry made my heart sink, realizing it was my fault.
"James," I peeped softly, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm sorry if I've made you angry."
He shook his head, his grip on the reins tightening slightly, evident by the squeal of his leather gloves. "You didn't do anything wrong," he said firmly, his voice filled with something different, something dominating. "I'm not angry at you."
"Then why...?" I whispered, not exactly sure of how to phrase my question.
"I'm upset at those bastards," he admitted, something in his voice that almost represented fury. "For doing whatever they did to you. For hurting you. I swear, I'm gonna kill ‘em."
I felt a mixture of relief and gratitude wash over me. His anger wasn't directed at me, but at the people who had hurt me. And his determination to protect me, to find out what had happened, made me feel safer than I had in a long time.
"Thank you…" I whispered, my voice trembling just slightly as I hesitantly leaned my back against him. "For caring so much."
He sighed, the sound almost emotional. "I care about you," he stated softly. "More than you might realize. And I won't rest until I put a bullet through the heads of whoever hurt you."
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @roseydoesypoesy @metallicaloverrr @behindanotherdoor @ilovepapahet @delightfulcollectivetyphoon — comment or dm to join the taglist!
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