#the ONE time they’re trying to genuinely actually do things right and not repeat all the same mistakes and wrongs of their past

[aspacewar]

I am,,, feeling so incredibly normal today, about my imaginary D&D dude and their train-wreck of a life

Sorry mutuals & followers I’m gonna be Worse than normal today I swear I’ll shut the fuck up soon

Need a separate blog for D&D shit honestly

[sarafangirlart]

Debunking some misinformation about Hephaestus and Aphrodite’s Marriage

I’m so sick and tired so I’m making a thread, enjoy. I’ll break it down into several points.

1. Hephaestus demanded Aphrodite’s hand in marriage in exchange for Hera’s freedom and Aphrodite was forced into the marriage

You’d be surprised by how this isn’t even attested in ancient sources, rather it’s just a theory made by modern scholars bc of how spotty and limited our knowledge about this marriage is, let’s look at the actual sources:

Notice how Aphrodite isn’t even mentioned mentioned as the “prize”? Hephaestus does ask for a goddess in exchange for freeing Hera, but it’s not Aphrodite, it’s Athena. The usual course of events is this:

Hephaestus is angry at Hera for her mistreatment and sends a golden throne that traps her

The other gods try to persuade him to free her but he refuses

Dionysus convinces him by getting him drunk

Again the theory that Aphrodite was the prize for whoever gets Hephaestus to Olympus is just that, a theory. Not a really good one either bc wouldn’t Aphrodite be married to Dionysus instead? It’s a really shallow portrayal of all figures involved tbh, why would Ares only be interested in freeing his mother if it meant he gets to marry Aphrodite? Why would anyone on Olympus not be worried about their queen being chained up? Believe it or not but Hera isn’t as disliked as one would think lol

Now even if Aphrodite wasn’t a prize how did she end up marrying Hephaestus? And was she forced into doing it? No actually (Lucian’s Dialogue of the gods):

That’s not to say this wasn’t an arranged marriage (it most likely was) but arranged marriage and forced marriage are not the same thing. If you think this is a forced marriage then what about Cadmus and Harmonia? Heracles and Hebe? Both these marriages were arranged by Zeus but no one would claim they’re forced marriages.

2. Aphrodite hated Hephaestus

Now this is more open to interpretation, after all love is subjective, but to say they outright hated each other would be incorrect, there is this myth that Aphrodite cursed Lemnos to have the men abandon their wives and female family members, usually bc they neglected on worshipping her (tho a late Latin source says it’s revenge for exposing her affair).

Apollonius of Rhodes' Argonautica:

However this bit seems to be rather… genuine? Almost as if she might have truly felt bad for what she did and wanted to reconcile, sounds like someone with a deeply messy and complicated relationship with their partner, but not outright hate.

Also there is this moment in Lucian’s Dialogue of the Gods which is pretty funny:

3. Hephaestus only saw Aphrodite as property

Ok I don’t like using the “it was a different time” card but like… it really does apply here lol

Now we’ve already established that Aphrodite was never a prize for Hephaestus to begin with so what about the betrothal gifts he gave to Zeus? Obviously that means he was buying Aphrodite right?

Well, no actually this is a normal part of Ancient Greek marriage (obviously it varied between cities and time periods but it usually goes something like this), the father of the bride and the groom exchange gifts with each other to establish a bond between the two, the bride herself wasn’t the “gift” Zeus’s gift to Hephaestus was most likely his place on Olympus.

To say that Hephaestus bought Aphrodite would mean that Odysseus bought Penelope, or Hector bought Andromache, both are ludicrous claims.

4. Hephaestus is an incel and Ares is this big feminist icon

No, just… no.

Ares was never considered “the protector of women” in Ancient Greece that’s tumblr fanfiction and plenty of other ppl have made posts debunking this (including me) so I won’t repeat that here. Now about Hephaestus being an “incel” all the male Olympians have at least one story where they harm an innocent/defenseless woman, all of them, yes including Ares who persecuted Leto while she was heavily pregnant by Hera’s orders.

5. Aphrodite cheated to “regain her sexuality”

No Patrick, cheating on your disabled spouse with his brother in the bed and palace he made for you is not a girlboss move it’s being an asshole (all the gods are flawed, how thought provoking). Hell, even Zeus wouldn’t pull shit like this with Hera.

Aphrodite and Ares most likely did this hoping it would be the last place anyone would suspect an affair, since Aphrodite could’ve had sex with Ares in his own place or some meadow somewhere but that might cause ppl to be too suspicious.

6. Ares is a big dumb brute who can’t take a hint and only saw Aphrodite for her beauty

Believe it or not, just bc I criticize Aphrodite and Ares doesn’t mean I hate them lol. Now look, all the gods care deeply about looks but that’s not the only thing that Ares and Aphrodite love about each other. Here is Ares being a total simp and actually listening to her:

Iliad book 5

Thebaid book 3

7. Aphrodite felt neglected by Hephaestus bc he’s too busy at the forge

No lol, she straight up works with him at the forge, why wouldn’t she? If anything this claim makes Aphrodite even more shallow than she actually is.

8. Aphrodite and Ares didn’t care about being humiliated in the golden net and Ares straight up brags about cucking his brother

Yes I’ve heard such claims and no Ares and Aphrodite are actually capable of feeling shame lol, almost as if they were in the wrong. Also why would Ares actively antagonize the guy who makes all his stuff? Maybe that’s why Athena keeps beating his ass, bc Hephaestus purposely gives Ares shitty weapons and armor lol

Anyways umm… I think that’s it? Maybe I missed a few things bc I’m frustrated af rn

Just so y’all know, I’m not a scholar I’m just autistic and read a lot lol. I hope I didn’t miss something or get anything wrong.

Have a good day (or night).

[scoops-aboy86]

Secret Admirer

Steddie Week 2024, July 1: Mystery / secret relationship / One Night Alone by Vixen

wc: 2131 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

cw: negative self talk (steve), allusions to unhealthy use of drugs and alcohol (eddie), and one horny paragraph

In the first few letters, Eddie had tried to disguise his handwriting. It occurred to him after a while, though, that there would be no reason for someone like Steve Harrington to recognize it, so he stopped. And he was right, nothing happened. 

Steve hasn’t figured out the secret admirer letters he kept answering were written by none other than the official Freak of Hawkins High. Hell, Steve hasn’t even worked out that he’s a he. Though a few vaguely worded sentences every now and then suggest that Steve might not be assuming she either, which is…interesting. Possibly nothing, but interesting all the same. And Eddie knows he’s probably just stringing himself along by doing this, but he’s about to repeat his senior year of high school for the third goddamn time and this is a better option than drinking or dipping into the harder stuff that Reefer Rick expects him to sell. Broken heart likely, but at least he doesn’t wake up with a headache or the shakes.

Now it’s well into summer, and the PO Box he’d had since he was sixteen (for Blueboys and other mags that would get him equally tarred and feathered if anyone finds out) gets mail every damn day.

Eddie looks down at the most recent letter, rereading it for the hundredth time with a joint in one hand, several empty beer cans littering the bedspread and floor of his room around him. 

Dear Secret Admirer, Hey, I’m sorry if I came on too strong in my last couple of letters. I get why you don’t want to tell me who you are. We probably went to high school together, right? You don’t write like a middle schooler and no one who graduates sticks around in this stupid town besides me. I guess that makes me stupid means you probably knew me when I was still a douchebag. Sorry about that. I hope I never said anything to you or let Tommy push you around. Except I don’t know why you would’ve started writing to me in the first place if I had? It’s not like I would’ve written back if I was still that popular guy who everyone talked to and thought was so cool. Yeah, I admit it, I thought I was hot shit back then too! But it turns out, they only give you the spotlight as long as you don’t put a toe out of line. Don’t point out when they’re being assholes. You wouldn’t believe the kind of shit some people will say when they think you already agree with them about everything.  Anyway, I’m trying to be better now. Genuinely, if I’m not, if I’ve been an asshole in these letters at all, please tell me. And it’s not like I’m tired of writing to you, I just. Wouldn’t getting to talk in person be even better? Or we don’t even have to talk, if you don’t want to, that’s okay! You can come by Scoops and tell me it’s you and I’ll give you a free ice cream cone or something, whatever you want. Because actions speak louder than words, right? You keep sending me all these nice letters, and I’m not the best with words so I want to give you something too. (I don’t mean that like That wasn’t a come-on, I swear. Shit, I should rewrite this again but this is already the fifth draft, it’s not getting any better than this. Sorry.) — Steve PS, I don’t know if you have been to Scoops already, but if you’ve seen my coworker’s whiteboard I swear I’m not interested just because I keep striking out. Turns out I don’t actually know how to talk to girls without being weird. It’s weird being done with high school and not have that stuff in common to talk about, and I used to be this cool guy that I’m really not anymore so I panic and all this bullshit (who am I kidding) bullshit comes out my mouth and it’s EMBARRASSING. Anyway. I really like your letters, it’s been great having someone to talk to even if it’s not really talking a face to face thing, and I’m not just saying that because I’m kind of a loser now. Anyway, have a nice day! Fuck, Robin is right, I SUCK

The first bullshit in the postscript is crossed out so hard there’s a tear in the paper. All the scribbled out bits are borderline illegible, like Steve really tried, but Eddie can still make out most of it and can guess the rest from context. The very last word, for example, is totally obscured, but he has seen the You Rule / You Suck board, so. Yeah.

It makes his heart ache, the way Steve talks about himself sometimes. The way his insecurities bleed through artlessly on the page like coffee stains. Eddie alternates between wanting to wrap him up in soft things to protect him from whatever sharpness left him so cut open, and wanting to smother him with kisses for the bravery in being so genuine with a nameless, faceless stranger. 

Except Steve isn’t his. Steve is straight, for all he’s apparently being kind enough not to make assumptions, and could never want Eddie in the same way. And it’s not fair, the hanging back that Eddie’s been doing, holding out now that Steve has come to look forward to his letters just because of a little (huge, massive, life-threatening) fear of rejection. 

He’s been dragging his heels so long that Steve is feeling rejected, and that just won’t do. 

Sighing, Eddie takes another long drag before stubbing the remaining nub of the joint out. Scrubs his hands across his face and considers getting another beer. Or maybe forgetting the corner he’s backed himself into, with Steve wanting to meet—not only to satisfy the curiosity of knowing who his secret admirer is, but because he actually seems to like the person writing to him. (Actually wrote that they didn’t have to talk if Eddie didn’t want to, Jesus H. Christ, why did he have to be such a fucking sweetheart about that?) 

It’s late, and he’s already stripped restlessly down to just his boxers for bed. He could push it all aside, push his hands down the front of his underwear and get lost in different thoughts about Steve for a while, for the trillionth time. God knows that always works to clear his head, sometimes twice if he’s ambitious about it, enough for sleep to take him. 

Instead, Eddie drops the letter on his bed and hunts around on his desk for a notebook he can stand to tear a few more pages out of. Once he has what he needs, he chews on the end of his pen for several minutes  before putting it to the paper.

Steve, my beloved, It has been some time since I’ve replied. My deepest apologies for that, as it seems like you’ve taken that to mean something I absolutely did not intend. I received all of your letters, and “too strong” is not how I would describe them. They were lovely, sweetheart. I have reread them many times, I have slept with them under my pillow, I have cried happy tears over them for the thought that you might actually share my affection enough to want so badly to know who I am.  Very quickly, to address some of your questions and concerns: One, we did share some years in high school, yes, and I’m pleased to read that you think my writing is at a level appropriate to someone approximately our age. (I wish more of my teachers shared that view, but alas, I’m pretty sure that most of them hate me. Except for the drama teacher, who would let me get away with murder as long as I didn’t stain or break any of his props with the act.) Two, Hagan was a dick, but more to my friends than me directly, and the worst you ever did was laugh when I dropped my books a few times, that sort of thing. Water under the bridge, fuck high school, etc. etc.. Three, you have not engaged in any assholery in your writing, or in any of your actions that I’ve seen in a long time.  And four… you should’ve left the double entendre (i.e. the “I want to give you something too”); I wouldn’t have minded.  Obviously I think of you as prime boyfriend material—thoughtful, good sense of humor and humility, and whenever those younger kids swing by to pester you at the mall you put up a good front of being exasperated and annoyed, but through all that I can tell you care about them. (They say never trust someone who would hurt an animal, it works for kids too.)  But you’re also a total smoke show, baby. The effortless way you moved around the basketball court, same as in the water when you were still on the swim team, and in those indecently tiny shorts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about running my fingers up the inside of those thighs. Or my mouth. Whichever you think you’d like best, baby, I’m not picky. And while I do like ice cream, particularly strawberry with rainbow sprinkles in a cone, I can think of something else I’d love to wrap my hand around and run my tongue over before any drips can escape. You just think about that, hmm? Maybe share some of those thoughts in your reply, if I haven’t scared you off with this paragraph.  It was a relief to write that, to be honest. I am not without my fantasies, you see; in a lot of ways, they’re all I have. The real reason I’ve been hesitant to respond to all of your heartfelt entreaties to meet, sweetheart, is that I’m afraid. I’ve been head over heels for you for so long—for your looks before anything else, I’ll admit, but the douchebag boy from high school that you mentioned is long gone. A man stands in his place, and what a man you are. In writing to you, I wanted to make clear first and foremost how ardently I admire and love you, lest my feelings be mistaken for mere tawdry teen lust.  And hopefully I’ve succeeded. If so, can you see now how actions can be carved in with the words? It is the intent that shines through, and I can read in between the lines, Steve, that you are being genuinely honest with yours. All those disparaging remarks you made about yourself in your last letter, both crossed out and not, are probably you being too hard on yourself, but they speak to the fact that you both understand you’ve made mistakes in the past and are trying to pay penance for them. That, along with your fantastic hair and magnificent ass, are just a few of the reasons I remain, as always— Your Secret Admirer P.S. I don’t mind weird. Like it, even. Bring it on, big boy.  P.P.S.  If all I could ever have with you is one night alone, I’d take it and be grateful.

Eddie’s letter is almost twice as long as Steve’s, but whatever. That’s par for the course; he never expected Steve to be much of a wordsmith, even though the guy is clearly putting in a lot of effort. Writes drafts, apparently. Unlike Eddie, who bangs all that out in pretty much one go and merely skims it before sliding it in an envelope, sealing it in, slapping on a stamp and address, and throwing it off the bed. 

Then he falls into bed and strips his dick to the thought of Steve reading the letter and thinking about his mouth, half in a hot anonymous way and half in some imaginary reality where Steve knows it’s him and wants this just as badly. Of Steve groaning out how good it feels and maybe wanting to hold him after, fall asleep together, like they’re…

The next morning (or afternoon, whatever, it’s summer vacation), Eddie reviews his slightly fuzzy memory of the letter after stepping on the envelope and realizing, oh, right. Overly verbose and dramatic, the way he always is but even more so when tipsy. And… fuck it. One horny paragraph, he decides, won’t be the end of the world. Maybe it will scare Steve off; maybe he’ll enjoy it. Let fate decide, just like at the dnd table. 

Eddie shoves the envelope into the mail drop box just outside the trailer park gate on his way into town and sends a prayer out to no god in particular that he hasn’t just rolled a nat one.

~

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve

Tagging some folks who expressed interest about this story in my Wiggly Wednesday post last week, let me know if you don't want to be tagged going forward: @steviewashere @cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve

@rozzieroos @lunaraindrop @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

[ovaryacted]

Hello??! Sub!Leon??? Absolutely sign me the fuck up. Ok ok so. Hear me out.

First time, the absolute first time Leon has a prostate orgasm, he fucking cries. Either pegging, dick or fingering, the moment he feels that specific part inside of him get touched, he sees fucking stars.

This dude goes full hentai shit. His eyes roll back, he’s drooling, his tongue is hanging out, he’s babbling uselessly. His brain literally can’t comprehend how good he feels because of it!

I’d imagine that Leon also gets vocal. More vocal than ever. Normally he’s a quiet guy. Maybe some moaning and grunts but when your rubbing his prostate? Yea he’s speaking another language. Dude is Italian American, imagine if he starts speaking fucking Italian. HE doesn’t even understand what he’s saying, he’s just repeating words he heard from his parents growing up.

His voice is also an octave higher. He tries to cover his mouth at first, but it’s useless. He becomes a crying, moaning, babbling bitch.

I’d also imagine Leon’s thighs shake when he cums. Oh and he cums HARD. He actually forgets how to breathe for a bit because of the orgasm slamming into him.

And afterwords? Woah mama. He’s beautiful, breathing heavily, tears and drool marking his pretty face. Just…Mwuah~ <3

MDNI/18+. NSFW

Hey there anon! Thank you so much for the message, I’ll be glad to sign you up to the Sub! Leon fan club. Yes I’m totally listening, putting my ear real close to you right now.

I think the first time he cums like that, it will probably change his whole life and literally give his brain a hard reset. Like sure, he’s had good orgasms before, but never something that made black spots come into his vision, or something that made his legs shake the way they’re currently doing on the mattress. He never thought that sex could feel so good, and experiencing that much relief would genuinely be something that he’ll continue to ask for in the safety of another person who can provide that for him.

The way his mind just fizzles out when it happens, how there isn’t a single thought that goes through his head. It takes him off guard, how it’s just static between his ears and he’s stuck in a daze. For the first time in his life he’s not thinking about his trauma, about missions, about anything. His head is just empty and he loves it, and he finds himself someplace far away and wants to stay there for a while longer. To me, Leon is a sentimental guy, he’d be the type to cry during sex cause he’s clingy and affectionate. But when he’s the one on the receiving end, it makes him feel safe, and having someone who helps to genuinely make him feel good and focuses on his pleasure, he’ll be more inclined to cry from the release of it.

Poor baby is so pent up that the moment he cums he can feel his whole body shake from it. It starts from his thighs which nearly cramp from how hard they flex, and a chill runs down from his calves and to the balls of his feet. His toes will curl a little bit and his fingers will dig into the bed sheets, and he swears he feels his ears ringing from the force of it. He just starts mumbling under his breath, trying to get his heartbeat back to normal and is saying things like I love you in such a whiney voice that it doesn’t even sound like him. He’s babbling and saying anything that comes to mind as any logic just leaves him permanently. Tears down his face, drool running out of his mouth, face all red, he’s a damn mess but he’s your pretty mess. He’s so hypersensitive that any little movement or touch makes him jolt the slightest bit, and it’s almost embarrassing but he doesn’t have the brain power to give a fuck considering how good he feels.

You’d probably have to spend some time bringing him back to reality, praising him and kissing him over his body gently to calm him down. Leon would be so clingy afterwards, just wants to put his head on your chest and let you run your fingers through his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear that will ease him to sleep in 3 minutes flat. It’ll be the best he’s slept in a while too, getting a full 8 hours at least, just feeling warm and satisfied. And when you look down at him, there’s a small smile on his face as he sleeps, like he’s dreaming of something good and not having a nightmare, kissing his forehead as he dozes off with his limbs wrapped around you. You fuck him good and you baby him after, that’s what he likes and what he craves, and of course, you’re more than happy to provide.

Also, the fact that you said he’d start speaking Italian was so fucking funny, it made me chuckle. Very real. 😭

[steveseddie]

pity hand-hold

for @steddie-week day two “hands”

rated: t | cw: none | wc: 1,7k | tags: post vol. 4, pre-relationship, hand holding, steve is curious and eddie is happy to help

click here to read on ao3

Steve doesn’t know for how long he’s been staring at Eddie’s hands as he paints his nails. But it’s enough that by the time Eddie is already applying the second coat, Steve is still on the first page of the comic book he picked to pass the time. 

The problem isn’t the comic book- it’s not particularly boring or anything like that. It’s just that watching Eddie is more entertaining. From his focused expression, mostly obscured by his hair falling like a curtain over his face, to the delicate movements of his hands as he moves the small brush over his nails. 

He’s painting them black like usual, but it’s the first time Steve is there to watch him do it. He didn’t know Eddie was such a perfectionist- working slowly and carefully so he doesn’t get nail polish on his hands. And he didn’t think Eddie could keep his fingers still long enough to not smudge the freshly painted nails. 

Eddie rarely sits still for long, and if he does, he’s always moving his hands- wringing his fingers together, playing with his rings, picking on his chipped nail polish. 

Not that Steve spends a lot of time paying attention to Eddie’s hands- just a normal amount. They’re nice hands, that’s all, and right now Steve is taking advantage of how still they are to study them closely.

Eddie’s fingers are long and thin and Steve spends some time trying to figure out if they’re bigger than his. He knows Eddie’s hands wouldn’t be soft like all the girls’ hands he’s held over the years- they’d be calloused from playing his guitar and from occasionally helping Wayne work on his truck. They’re also scarred- a demobat bit a chunk of his left hand and the skin didn’t heal properly, there’s also a long, thin scar across his palm from when he cut himself while trying to open a can using a knife (“Can openers are a thing, you know?” Steve told him in a bitchy tone the day he told him about that one.)

Steve finds himself wondering what it would feel like to hold them- Eddie’s hands or just a guy’s hand. He wonders how different it would be from holding Nancy’s hand or Heather’s or Kelly’s. Steve’s fingers itch to reach out and grab Eddie’s- find out if he likes rough hands as much as softer ones, if he likes long fingers as much as smaller ones, if he likes short chipped nails as much as long perfectly manicured ones. 

It’s not the first time he’s thought about it. It’s not even the first time he’s thought about it while staring at Eddie’s hands, but unlike those other times, Steve actually brings it up.

“Have you ever held hands with a guy?” He asks, breaking the silence they’ve been sitting in for a while. 

His voice startles Eddie, who jumps and knocks over the nail polish bottle. Steve quickly gets it upright again before it can spill over the sheets.

“Whew! Thanks,” Eddie chuckles. Steve holds the bottle still so he can stick the brush inside, already done with the second coat. “Have I what now?” He asks, bringing his fingers close to his mouth to blow on them. 

Steve blinks his eyes away from Eddie’s pursed lips after a few seconds to repeat himself. “Have you ever held hands with a guy?” 

Eddie’s hand freezes. He blinks at Steve, his cheeks going pink. “Uh, no,” he mumbles. 

“Never?” 

“Nope,” Eddie says, biting his lip. 

“Why not?” Steve asks, genuinely confused. Eddie has very nice hands- it doesn’t make any sense that no guy has ever wanted to hold them.

Eddie snorts out a startled sort of chuckle, eyebrows raised in amusement as he resumes blowing on his nails. “Well, for starters, most guys in this town would punch me in the face if I tried.”

Oh. “Right,” Steve agrees. That does make sense even if it sucks. “What about girls?”

Eddie screws up his lips, eyes narrowed as he thinks. “Maybe when I was a kid? Before everyone thought I was Satan’s spawn, but not recently.”

“Hm.”

“Why?” He asks, making grabby hands at the nail polish bottle so he can apply a final coat. Steve uncaps it and holds it still for him. 

He shrugs. “Just that I’ve been wondering what it’s like to hold a guy’s hand,” he says and watches as Eddie’s hand twitches and the brush misses his nail, leaving a black stain on his sheets instead. 

“Shit,” Eddie mutters, grabbing a cotton ball and some nail polish remover to try and clean it up. “You- uh, you want to hold a guy’s hand?” He asks, keeping his eyes down, not meeting Steve’s.

“I don’t know, maybe. I want to know how different it is from holding a girl’s hand. I’ve held plenty of girls’ hands but not a guy’s.”

Eddie gives up on the stain, tossing the cotton ball away and picking the brush back up. “Uh, well, I don’t think I can answer that for you. Sorry, man.”

“No,” Steve agrees, but then he perks up with an idea. “But you can let me hold your hand.”

Eddie squeaks, his hand slipping again and leaving a bigger stain this time. “Motherfucker!”

“Dude,” Steve chuckles softly, shaking his head at Eddie’s clumsiness. 

He decides two coats of nail polish is enough and screws the cap back on the bottle. Then he narrows his eyes at Steve. “You want me to hold your hand?”

Steve nods, his eyes darting down to where said hands have started fiddling with his rings. Steve has held hands with girls who wore rings, but they were all small and dainty. Eddie’s rings are big with skulls and devils and horns. Steve wants to know how they would feel against his fingers. Cold probably. “Uh-huh.” 

“For how long?” Eddie asks, narrowing his eyes further. 

Steve snorts. “What? Are you afraid I’ll give you something?”

Eddie’s lips twitch into a smirk. “Maybe. You did say you’ve held a lot of girl’s hands. Who knows what they gave you.”

“I think you’re safe, man. The last time I held a girl’s hand was-” He trails off, trying to remember when that was, and when he does, he gasps. “Right before Spring Break actually.” Right before he met Eddie and they were thrown into yet another interdimensional crisis. 

“Damn, Harrington, you’ve been striking out lately,” Eddie sniggers.

Steve makes a non-committal sound. Truth is he hasn’t been trying hard enough to consider it striking out. He’s been busy- saving Hawkins at first, then taking care of Eddie as he recovered, and then hanging out with Eddie as they grew closer. Among other things, of course.

“Is that enough to make you hold my hand out of pity?” 

Eddie chuckles. He shifts closer to Steve on the bed, careful to avoid the nail polish stain, until they’re sitting next to each other, their backs against the headboard. 

“Sure, Stevie, I’ll give you a pity hand-hold,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. 

Steve feels heat climb up the back of his neck. “How do you make that sound dirty?”

“It’s a gift!” He says with a smirk. Then he holds out his left hand with his palm up on the bed between the two of them. “There. Go nuts, big boy.”

Steve gives a fond shake of his head before he looks down at Eddie’s hand. Knowing he’s about to hold it, he feels nervous all of a sudden, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. 

He subtly takes a deep breath and places his hand on top of Eddie’s, palm to palm. The touch sends blood rushing through his ears, but he thinks he hears Eddie inhale sharply at the same time. 

For a few seconds, he just rests his hand there. Then he finally intertwines their fingers together and just like that he’s doing it. He’s holding hands with a guy. With Eddie. 

Right away he realizes that it’s different in all the ways he thought it would be. Eddie’s hand is bigger than any other hand Steve has ever held, his fingers are longer than Steve’s but thinner. The callouses on his fingertips are rough against the back of Steve’s hand. He can feel the scar on Eddie’s palm against his own and the one left behind by the demobats under his thumb. 

But it’s different in other ways too- mostly in how it makes Steve feel. Eddie’s hand being as big as Steve’s makes something hot burn low in his stomach. His fingers being so long makes Steve wonder what they would feel like somewhere else. Eddie’s calloused thumb rubbing over Steve’s knuckles makes his cheek flare bright red.

“So?” Eddie asks and Steve jumps a little as it snaps him out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

Eddie holds their hands up with an amused expression. Steve’s eyes zero in on them just as one of Eddie’s metal rings catches the light filtering through the window. He thought they would feel cold against his skin, but Eddie’s hands kept them warm. They feel nice against Steve’s fingers, he bets they would feel nice somewhere else too, around his throat maybe-

“What’s the verdict?” Eddie asks, and Steve has to shake his head to stop that train of thought. “Is it different than holding a girl’s hand?”

“Yup. Yeah. It sure is.” He never thought about Nancy’s tiny hands wrapping around his throat, that’s for sure. So, yeah. Different. 

“Bad different?”

“Nope.”

“Huh, so you like it- holding hands with guys?” Eddie asks, and there’s something off with his voice that Steve can’t quite pinpoint. 

“I do,” Steve says because he does. He likes this. He just doesn’t know if- “Or maybe I just like holding hands with you.”

Nervous laughter tumbles from Eddie’s lips. “Ha! Well, I’m happy I helped,” he gestures vaguely with his other hand, “satisfy your curiosity or whatever.”

Except Steve’s curiosity isn’t satisfied yet- he answered one question, but he’s still left with many more. There are other things he’s done with girls that he doesn’t know if he’d like to do with guys. Or with Eddie at least. 

Steve feels Eddie trying to free his hand from and he tightens his grip. 

“Steve?” Eddie asks, big brown eyes blinking owlishly at him. 

Steve’s eyes drop to his lips. His pink, slightly chapped lips. Much like with holding hands, Steve finds himself wondering if it would be different to kiss a guy. To kiss Eddie. 

For the second time that day, he perks up with an idea. “Hey Eds?” He says, his eyes finding Eddie’s again. He gives him a cat-like grin. “Have you ever made out with a guy?”

[frownyalfred]

i LOVED the new eye in the sky chap! of course, you have the soul-crushing rage-inducing angst pile on bruce's end, but i also really appreciated the duke-hal moment; he's so level-headed about the situation that you don't really build up too much stress over him, but then you brought in a different kind of heartbreak with the realization that he's been in this position enough times to know that the least provoking thing he can do is to do nothing at all.

and the FUTURESPEAKING jesus CHRIST — it’s a different type, but your time manipulation fuckery is almost equally as hard to wrap your head around as the stuff in tenet (the nolan movie), it's genuinely so impressive. (sorry, i'm just gonna run my mouth here for a minute, but the idea really caught me and now i Have to share all my thoughts just to get them out of my brain, though i hope that you'll be generous enough to weigh in as well😅) i'd imagine that there's actually relatively very few people, in-universe, who can do this so that duke hears it correctly, because you have to be able to focus your mind and put enough intent into the idea that you're about to say something that it "registers" as the imminent future—which means that you have to, at the same time, be completely repressing your knowledge that you're NOT going to actually vocalize whatever it is, because that intention would obviously counteract the first. and THEN, to make what's already quite a tough mental exercise even more impressive, bruce is: thinking of a futurespeak-response, putting enough focus/intent behind it for that future to crystallize (and again, it's a double-headed task, because of the repression required as well), and then cutting that off in order to think of and say something completely different, *all in about just the same amount of time a normal person would take to respond naturally in a conversation.* (also, slightly less mind-boggling but still quite impressive to me and i want to give him his props: duke, in that last bit at the end at least, is maintaining both his awareness in the present and the mental effort of using his powers to see the future, in order to hear the exact same voice say two different things at the same time, and is able to not only maintain the background effort needed to hear both things, but is taking in enough detail to see/hear/notice "both" bruces' tone and body language. ...i mean, maybe that's not so impressive to people without auditory processing issues lmao, but as someone who's constantly asking people to repeat themselves, or really having to focus on the sounds when somebody's speaking to me, even in one-on-one conversations, it certainly impressed me!)

anyways, yeah, this just inspired a lot of interesting trains of thought for me and i wanted to share lol. your fics are always such great reads, can't wait for your next update! Hope you're well💜

Thank you so much!!!! You absolutely nailed what I was trying to get at with Duke’s powers. I really didn’t want over explain it and have people roll their eyes, but I also didn’t want to leave readers mystified as to what he was doing.

Duke and Bruce are supremely well matched in this fic for that reason among many others — Bruce has a freaky brain and understands time/intention well enough to be able to think, speak, and re-speak that quickly.

He can compartmentalize like no one else. I am not obviously that smart, but the way I thought about it was playing competing melodies on the piano with two different hands - once you find the rhythm, the way they work off each other, you can maintain both easily. Where they gap, where they overlap, where they compete for your attention.

Duke is good at glimpsing a few seconds forward/back but definitely not for long periods. Like Bruce said, he’s going to need help to train that and avoid burning himself out! Luckily he’s just listening and not double speaking like Bruce is.

Someone on ao3 left me this in the comment section and they’re so right lol:

I feel bad for Hal, just a little, just like Duke does. He was tortured by Kal essentially, and where he does want to hurt Bruce (a lot) there are still some lines he won’t cross. I don’t know if that makes him redeemable or just not entirely beyond redemption. I think Bruce seems to know this too — teasing him with that moral code he used to hold so tightly to.

It was definitely a fun space to play around in! Writing this fic is difficult for me (agh worldbuilding) but whenever I try I’m pleasantly surprised by how much fun I have. Thank you so much for reading!!

[mywitchyblog]

Can someone please explain to me who the hell is so upset with me that they’ve resorted to going into other shifters' ask boxes as an anonymous user and started bullying them in my name? It honestly baffles me that someone would stoop so low. If you have an issue with me or something I’ve said, be direct. I’m not one to hide behind anonymity or drag innocent people into something they have nothing to do with. If I had a problem with you, trust me, I’d say it to your face. I don’t need to hide in the shadows.

Now, there are only two possibilities for what’s going on here, and neither of them reflect well on the person responsible:

The first possibility is that this person is intentionally creating drama by sending themselves an anonymous ask. Maybe they’re looking for attention or trying to stir up conflict where there is none. It's sad, honestly, if that’s what’s happening because it just shows how far some people are willing to go to manufacture chaos.

The second possibility is that I’ve managed to piss someone off to the point where they’re now impersonating me, using my name to spread hate and start fights in spaces where I’m not even involved. If this is the case, I can’t say I’m surprised that someone would go this route rather than confront me directly, but it’s still frustrating. I don’t hide from criticism, and I won’t shy away from addressing issues head-on. But to use my identity in such a toxic way? That’s crossing a line.

To the person this happened to (I found out about this through a mutual, and I want you to know that I’m aware), I am truly sorry. I hate that this situation has dragged you into something you didn’t ask for, and I genuinely wish it hadn’t happened. But let me be absolutely clear: it wasn’t me. I did not send those messages, and I would never engage in that kind of behavior. It’s not how I handle things, and it’s certainly not how I treat others.

You are fully entitled to your own opinion, just like I’m entitled to mine. I’ve never denied that right to anyone, and I wouldn’t start now. We don’t have to agree on everything, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to attack you for your perspective or allow someone else to use my name to do so. That’s not how this works.

And just to set the record straight for the final time: I am not a pedophile, nor do I endorse, encourage, or support anything related to that disgusting behavior. It’s beyond insulting that I even have to keep repeating this, but here we are. In fact, I went out of my way to age myself up by a few years or to completely discard the DRs that felt problematic or uncomfortable. I’ve always been mindful of the spaces I navigate, especially when it comes to shifting, and I’ve made conscious decisions about what I’m comfortable with.

If you’re unhappy or confused about something I’ve said or done, talk to me like a human being. Bring it to me, and let’s figure it out. Don’t jump to conclusions or, worse, involve other people who aren’t even a part of the conversation. It’s cowardly and completely unnecessary. This whole thing could’ve been avoided with a little bit of maturity and honest communication.

At the end of the day, it’s honestly pathetic to bully other people just because they happen to have a different opinion than yours. Why are you so bothered by someone else’s perspective that you’d go out of your way to hurt them or cause unnecessary drama? We’re all individuals here, and our experiences with shifting, our journeys, and our beliefs are going to vary. No two people will see everything the same way, and that’s okay. It’s actually something to be embraced. What’s not okay is tearing each other down because of those differences. That only reflects poorly on you and shows how little respect you have for other people’s paths.

So, let’s try a little harder to be civil and respectful. You don’t have to agree with me, and I don’t have to agree with you, but at the very least, we can treat each other with decency.

[missmeinyourbones]

YOU WISH IT WAS ME, DON’T YOU? 

cw: fake dating, wedding cake testing, friends to lovers, mutual pining, so sweet i suddenly have a cavity, oikawa is a big fat nerd pass it on

You don’t think you hear him correctly the first time. 

But when he repeats himself, brashly confident and clearly enunciating his syllables between teeth and tongue, you know you’ve heard him right.

You can’t stop yourself from blurting out a genuine, “And why the fuck would we do that?”

Your words are harsh but granted, it is a stupid request.

Oikawa has officially decided the two of you should go to a bakery for wedding cake testing—to pretend to be an engaged couple. In public. As friends. Platonically. For fun. 

He must’ve gotten hit in the head at practice. 

“For free cake, obviously,” he shrugs, clearly not seeing an issue with his brilliant idea. “Come on, there’s gotta be a brain somewhere in that pretty little head of yours. You should use it every now and then.”

You ignore his backhanded tease (and the way your heart skips over the word “pretty” leaving his lips in reference to you.) 

You pray your poker face is decent enough as you send him a glare that’s meant to be intimidating. However, the smirk growing on his face let’s you know it’s mediocre at best. 

“Tooru, that doesn’t even make any sense,” you try to reason with the idiotic proposal. His head innocently turns to the side in confusion, so you begrudgingly elaborate. 

“We can just buy a cake,” you rationalize, as any normal person would. “I’ve seen your paycheck and trust me, you can afford it.”

His tongue prods against his cheek in amusement (and pride) at your dig before he continues with his act, whining like a child and pouting his stupid lips. 

“But that’s not the point,” he drawls the word out for at least three full seconds. 

He takes a dramatic inhale, “This makes it more exciting, it's like—a whole extravagant thing!” His hands fly out by his sides, showcasing the grand gesture of how fancy the idea seems in his puny little mind.

While he thinks he’s painting an intricate picture, you aren't seeing his vision. 

“It’s a silly and overdramatic ordeal, all for some lousy cake.”

At your pessimism, he scurries his way over to where you mope on his kitchen barstool. He’s never been one for utilizing personal space, but the conversation topic at hand has you overthinking every single thing he does. He’s so close you can feel the wind of his movements, the air of his dramatic exhales. You do yourself a favor and choose to look anywhere that’s not his face. 

Stopping right before you, his hands clasp together in a begging formation as he borderline pleads. 

“You won’t need to worry about anything, I’ll handle it all. I’ll book it, drive us in—I’ll even pay if they actually saddle us into buying something!”

When you finally pull your gaze away from your fidgeting fingers and up to his face, his eyes are glimmering with excitement. Though your stare would appear exasperated to most, he knows there’s love behind it. He can feel it. 

“All you need to do,” he whispers with a knowing smile, “is come.”

You ignore how your stomach flutters. His word choice has you blushing and fuck, you can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose or not.

You sigh with irritation and though Tooru knows you’re not quite done putting up a fight, he’s already won. The look in your skeptic eye tells him you’ve already agreed. 

“If we like the cake, they’re going to expect us to follow up, with, like—actual wedding plans,” you try to reason. 

“So we get married,” he easily concludes with a smile. “Well, maybe. We’ll see how this first date goes, huh?”

You overlook the wink he shoots you and how it makes your cheeks flush hot. “And if we get caught?

“That’s what makes it so fun. Our own dirty little secret.”

Okay, he’s definitely doing it on purpose.

“But that won’t happen,” he casually concludes, shrugging his shoulders with blasé confidence, “I can be very convincing.” 

A silent staring contest ensues and Tooru knows he has you in the palm of his calloused hand. He watches as you struggle to fight off the smile that fights to work its way from the corners of your lips and across your entire face. Serving the final blow, he pokes your side gently and watches the grin take over.

“Do you ever tell the truth?” your eyes roll but your smile makes up for it. 

He shrugs happily, “I like to lie.”

…

“And this is our white chocolate ganache filling.”

You don’t know why you’re here. 

The bakery is small, cozy. A family-owned business that sits on the corner of Main Street downtown. You pass it sometimes on your daily commute to work, allowing yourself to ogle at the pastries in the display window if the weather is nice enough. 

The sweet woman scheduled to run your consultation was waiting for you both by the door when you arrived. She’s an older woman, small in stature but her kindness makes up for it. You can tell she loves what she does by how she’s gleaming at the tiny details of your supposed love.

How Tooru opens the door for you, how he fixes your hair when you remove your coat, how you blush when she addresses the two of you as the soon-to-be Mr. And Mrs. Oikawa.

Eager to get the process started and sit you down, she goes through all of the assortments of flavors in what feels like one singular breath. Af if she’s some kind of dessert-wizard, she begins to list all possible kinds of combinations. Some sweet and fruity, others dense and rich. 

It’s an overwhelming scenario in general, and knowing the truth behind the matter makes it all the more intimidating. 

“It all looks so great,” you sheepishly stutter behind a smile, “I don’t even know where to start, honestly.”

The baker continues to overflow with excitement, “Wherever you want! It’s all yours—but we do have one tradition. For your first bite.”

Tooru indulges, now intrigued by the mystery, “Do tell.”

The woman blushes like a cherry tomato. 

“You have to feed it to each other,” she practically oozes with excitement, “as practice for your actual big day! It’s a good luck thing we like to encourage all of our couples to participate in.” 

She eyes your brief exchange of worried glances before carefully adding, “Only if they’re comfortable, of course!”

The hole you’ve dug yourself in just keeps getting deeper and deeper. 

You slowly nod your head in faux confidence, an act Oikawa clearly sees right through. 

“Yeah, sure,” you reluctantly agree. Almost immediately, a hand is on your shoulder and a pair of lips is skimming the shell of your ear. 

“Look, we don’t have to—”

“Just pick a flavor, Tooru,” you snap. 

He decides on a classic strawberry shortcake blend. 

The tiny sample square is bright and endearing. Vanilla cake covered in a blush white frosting, stuffed with a flavored whip, and decorated with a sugared strawberry sitting bold on top. It looks delicious, almost so perfect that you don’t want to pry your shaky fork into it. But Tooru does, so you follow suit. 

He makes the first move. His grip on the utensil is tight in a way that he hopes comes off as sturdy, as he slowly maneuvers closer to you. Like feeding a child a spoonful of mashed vegetables, he mimics an airplane before teasing. 

“Open wide.”

With a subtle glare, you do. And he does the same. And the two of you are equally guilty of watching one another's lips curl around the metal and savor the airy sweetness dancing on your tongues. 

It’s incredible. It’s delicious. And it’s the first one.

“Oh my god,” your fiancé for the evening practically moans in bliss, “Oh god, I think I died and went to heaven.”

Normally, you’d whack his arm, but given the circumstances (being the faux relationship you need to sell and how delicious the cake truly is), you resist the tempation. 

“Okay, normally I’d call you dramatic, but it’s actually really good.”

Tooru opens his eyes in a daze before placing his hand over his heart in a swoon. 

“And my very own personal angel? Yup, this is definitely heaven.”

...

The afternoon gets easier. You try nearly every flavor the bakery has to offer, every combination the woman recommends. From dulce de leche to lemon raspberry to chocolate mousse, everything tastes incredible and leaves your stomach fluttering with a fullness it's never known. 

At least you think that's the cakes doing, and certainly not courtesy of the man sitting beside you. 

With all flavors consumed and the consensus being weighed, the woman eagerly awaits your thoughts.

Tooru’s hand finds the small of your back as you sit in the cushioned chairs of the bakery. “What do you think, darling? Which one’s your favorite?”

An instant fire dances in the pit of your stomach—burning bright and contagious and terribly loud. 

“I think I like this one the best,” you decide. Pointing at the strawberry shortcake, Oikawa beams.

“Knew you were gonna say that one!” his tongue darts between his teeth as he grins. “Me too. I mean, you do have great taste, after all.”

Tooru generously tips the sweet lady for the free consultation, and you don’t miss how his smile grows in size when she wishes you a happy and healthy life together. He thanks her without a second thought. 

“We’re probably gonna take a day or two to think some things over, but I think it’s safe to say we’ll be in touch!” He practically hollers as he guides you out of the door and back into his car.

Stuffed to the brim with sugar and batter, you're exhausted. Amid the biggest food coma of your life, you crawl inside his passenger seat and immediately close your eyes. Though not asleep, you keep them shut when you hear him curse beneath his breath and close your door. 

“Shit, I think I left my wallet on the table. Be right back!”

…

Oikawa’s car pulls into your driveway. Once the car is shifted into park, he’s removing his hand from the steering wheel and turning to where you ;lazily slump in his passenger seat. 

He raises his eyebrows in amusement at your tired and full appearance. Catching his eye, you groan in response and lean against the window. 

“I’m so full, I can’t even breathe.”

“And you call me dramatic,” he scoffs with a smile on his face. 

You turn to him, sincere and delicate as you ask, “Are you happy? You got your dose of free cake.”

“Ecstatic,” his tone is soft, but he means it. “Iwa-chan’s gonna be mad when he sees my cholesterol levels, though.”

A laugh breathes through your nose, “He’d find a way to be mad at you, anyway.”

After a moment of quiet breathing, you dramatically sit up with a sigh, stretching your body and unbuckling your seatbelt. Tooru uses your movement as a distraction to reach for something in the backseat of his car.

When you face him to say goodbye, a tiny to-go container sits atop his car’s center console. His eyes dart from the box to your face, a silent request for you to open it. 

Your brow crinkles in confusion, so he laughs and answers your silent question. 

“A thank you,” he softly elaborates, “for coming with me.”

You hide your blush, “I think if I look at another piece of cake, I’ll start bleeding cream cheese frosting.”

“Oh, just open it,” he begs.

Inside the box sits a single piece of strawberry shortcake, the very first flavor you tried and your ultimate favorite of the day. It's a tiny slice, but its size isn't what you hone in on—a little frosting heart sits smack dab in the middle of the top, a detail Tooru had personally asked the woman to quickly add when going back into the shop. 

While it’s a small gesture, it’s a reflection of his true intentions. As childish as he is, he didn't bring you along today just for some free cake. He did it to spend time with you—it was just an extra perk that he got to feed you cake and call you darling while doing so. 

You melt in honor at the pretty pastry in front of you. 

It’s no wedding or proposal or confession in the slightest, but it makes you smile, and Tooru hopes it's a step in the right direction. 

[ingravinoveritas]

Amazing that Staged received Best Returning Comedy. But Anna and Georgia didn’t even acknowledge Best Comedy Partnership!

It’s like they only care about acknowledging the award for their contribution, not the award for their partner’s contribution?

In all of this I know Im reading too much into it. It seems like they’re adamant about removing the narrative about the men in their lives who earn the dosh because you know, they’re white (occasionally) cis men.

But does it not come across as toxic feminism when you deliberately try to ignore men’s achievements? When in fact they deserve the applause and awards?

Hi there! Well, in complete fairness, Georgia did share the video of her and David accepting the Best Comedy Partnership Award (and AL subsequently re-shared it from Georgia as an Insta story):

And I think Georgia was being a good sport with the Michael Sheen cardboard cutout (as it was an obvious callback to them doing this very same thing when Michael and David won this award in 2021).

What I'm really fascinated by, though, is everything that has followed this, including this bizarre back-and-forth between Georgia and Anna in their Insta stories:

I'm not even fully sure what is happening here, but it seems like another attempt on Anna and Georgia's part at being "flirty"/suggestive like Michael and David, but not managing to come even remotely close to them. "Needy" also seems to be Georgia's new favorite phrase, as she previously called Ty that on one of her posts, and while a case could be made for it to be some sort of mother/son banter there, I'm having a difficult time not seeing it as a read here.

And then for Anna to double-down and re-share that and actually call herself "greedy"? I guess she's trying to cover all of the seven deadly sins, since we've already had vanity (pride), so now it's time for greed. The problem is, all of the above with Georgia comes across as so forced and fake, and nothing like the genuine, natural warmth and affection and attraction that exists between Michael and David.

All of this then culminated in Georgia sharing one of AL's photo shoot pictures to another Insta story, with the hashtag #mywife:

Obviously, this immediately calls to mind the multiple instances of Georgia calling David Michael's "other wife" for the last three years (and David now saying it himself as well). But where it seems like that nickname came about as a result of people seeing that powerful connection between Michael and David and Georgia not being able to ignore it and therefore choosing to acknowledge it in her own way, I get the sense that that is not the case for this hashtag.

It also does not escape my or other people's notice that all this happened today right when the I Talk Telly awards were announced, nor that it just feels so completely planned. It feel self-congratulatory, as if this was meant for Georgia and AL to congratulate themselves primarily (again echoes of "They're everything...and they're just Ken"). And while I'm not sure I would categorize it as "toxic feminism," it strikes me as strange that there is this repeated need to seemingly put Michael and David down in order for AL and Georgia to lift themselves up.

Again, could I be completely wrong here? Absolutely. But it just seems like there is too much strangeness here to overlook...

[avionvadion]

Part Two of "I have no self control, so here ya go."

Lucifer x Fem!Human!OC

Warning: I don’t know how to write songs, so please don’t judge the Lucifer song too hard. T_T El isn’t affected by the song magic in Hell/Heaven so she ends up singing whatever songs she knows from her time on earth. In this chapter, it's "Here Comes A Thought".

I've decided this takes place just before the Pilot episode. So Angel has not been recruited yet, and the hotel is still the "Happy Hotel".

Lucifer was incredibly anxious as he shifted in his seat, one arm crossed over his chest while he bit the tips of his gloved fingers on his other, watching as Eleanora read the letter. What if it was horrible? What if he wrote too much? What if he was too honest and that ruined the letter? He can’t send that to Charlie. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. 

They should stop now while they’re ahead, before things go too far and he can’t take it all back. 

But what if doing that is what ruins everything? 

Lucifer’s mind felt like a trainwreck; he didn’t know which direction to take, which way to go. All the conductors were screaming at each other, but no one was willing to pull the lever to set him on the right track. 

No one except… 

Ellie? 

His sharp fangs had just started tearing through the fabric of the gloves and into his fingers when the Blue Human suddenly reached out, startling him by grabbing his hand and lowering it from his lips. 

She hadn’t even looked away from the writing. 

He blinked. 

Lucifer looked down at the hand she had grabbed. Eleanora’s grip was loose, her fingers just barely resting over his, but she didn’t pull away, simply holding it in place so he didn’t start biting again. 

It was… warm. 

Does she truly want to help me? 

Lucifer, ever since falling from Heaven and seeing the horrors that were inside Hell, had always believed giving humanity free will was one of his biggest mistakes. But he had scared this human, threatened her, kidnapped her, and coerced her into giving him advice, and yet… despite all that… she’s been trying to genuinely help him. 

And then she sang that song… 

Sure, they had a deal now, but they didn’t when they had first started writing this letter. Nothing in her actions or behavior has changed- save for the fact that she was acting more comfortable around him now, but it was the same for him so that didn’t really mean anything, did it? This human must truly be a good person like his daughter believed. 

“Has… Earth changed at all?” 

Eleanora paused, finally prying her eyes away from the letter to look down at him, confused. “Hah?” 

“Earth.” Lucifer repeated, his yellow-and-red snake eyes boring into her brown ones expectantly, hopefully. “Has it… changed? Or are you just one of the few who are most likely to get into Heaven?” 

The woman stared at him, only to turn away with a snort. “I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m “one of the few”. But… the people I used to hang out with in my school days always said I’d probably be the only one at our lunch table who wouldn’t end up in Hell. Pfft!” She laughed, flashing him a grin once she realized the irony of her situation. “Funny how that worked out, am I right? They were all wrong! Technically. Which… actually makes it funnier? But, uh, nah. Probably not.” 

Eleanora set the letter down on the desk and made to move her left hand from his- only to freeze, fingers twitching, as her eyes went wide. Lucifer realized then that she had no idea she had stopped him from nibbling his hand to bits, and that she’s been holding said hand for the better half of ten minutes. 

“Uh…” Slowly, stiffly, she pulled her hand away, her face burning a bright red, and Lucifer stared intently at her as she turned to lean her back against the desk, folding her arms over her chest as she smiled awkwardly, not looking at him. “I mean, I’m from America and it’s gotten really shitty over the past few years. There was the pandemic, we’re practically about to start World War III, and to top it all off- we’re regressing back into the nineteen twenties! Where women are property and cattle and nothing else!”

She laughed, the sound fake and stressed and very much bitter. 

The human waved a hand in the air. “Pisses me off! I mean, seriously, women can’t even breastfeed in public without getting yelled at because we might “excite” some random weirdos! Like, hello~? No! If a baby needs to be fed, it should be fucking fed. But no- let’s let it starve because some asshole might not be able to keep his hands or eyes to himself! Ugh!” 

She crossed her arms again, glaring into nothing, and Lucifer leaned sideways against his desk, elbow propped up and hand on his cheek. He was practically staring into her skull, his gaze so intense, and after a minute of seething in her thoughts Eleanora jolted, sensing his stare. 

Turning slowly to look at him, she blinked, unable to decipher what exactly he was thinking- if he was even thinking anything at all-  and quickly flashed him an apologetic smile, waving a hand at him- the same hand she had held his with. 

“S-Sorry! I… I got mad. And… rambled. Um. But, yeah, Charlie definitely thinks I would’ve gotten into Heaven- I disagreed, because, like, I never really believed in God until coming down here? I mean, my parents are religious, but even though they tried to force that on us, me and my siblings were all pretty… indifferent about the matter? That said, I wasn’t about to argue when Charlie asked me question after question and kept… getting more and more excited.” 

“What questions did she ask you?”

Eleanora froze. Realizing he was actually interested in what she had to say and wasn’t going to tell her to stop talking, she brightened. “O-Oh! Um, just- y’know, the usual, “Have you ever done drugs or smoked, do you drink- if so, how much and how often, have you ever had intercourse before marriage"? That kinda of thing. Oh! "Have you ever maimed or killed someone? Have you ever thought about maiming or killing someone"?”

“And?” 

She startled at that, looking at the devil king with wide eyes. “What?” 

Lucifer’s gaze was curious. “What did you tell her?” 

The human was stunned. “Well, I…” 

Clearing her throat, she looked away and began to count with her fingers as she answered, surprised he even wanted to know. Lucifer himself was a little surprised he wanted to know, especially since he probably won’t even remember half of it, but… he was curious. 

Who was this human? Why was it her that was summoned into Hell? Who was she to genuinely want to help him, even though he had abducted and threatened her for her assistance? 

Why was she so good, when the rest of humanity was so wretched and awful? 

“Um, well, I’ve never done drugs.” Eleanora began to list, thinking back on her answers. “Or smoke. My health was bad enough already, and I really didn’t want to make my asthma worse. Also, I don’t drink. Sure, my older sister would have me take an occasional sip of her wine just so I can say I tried it, but that’s only, like, once or twice a year since she doesn’t drink as much as she used to. Apparently I’m a dessert wine kinda gal?”

Lucifer sat up, squinting an eye. “Asthma? You don’t act like an asthmatic.”

“Charlie!” She beamed, snapping her fingers and pointing at him. “Part of the pact! My meds aren’t available down here, so she’s literally using some kind of magic to keep me from keeling over! I haven’t been able to breathe this well or talk so much since I was small! Heck, I can do zoomies and not collapse three seconds in! She’s such a sweetie.” 

She is. One hundred percent. His daughter was the best. 

“Anyways, she went on to explain the Happy Hotel to me and convinced me to make a pact with her, so not only have my lung issues been taken care of, I’ve got her protection and a job at the hotel. Even though… said job is to literally just exist. So I don’t really feel like I’m doing anything? But it makes her happy, so. Yeah.” 

Lucifer lowered his head, processing this. “My little girl’s… really all grown up now, isn’t she…?” 

Eleanora went silent. 

After a moment, she moved to tap her fingers against the desk, not daring to touch him after how she had unknowingly done so earlier. 

“I think…” She began slowly. “Even if she’s grown, she still has plenty of room in her life for her dad. It’s not like you were on bad terms; you just… never got to know each other. So you still have a shot. Especially since she misses you, too.”

The devil king snapped his head up, his eyes growing wide. “You… You really think so?” 

Eleanora grinned, giving him a thumbs up. “Heck yeah, I do!” 

“How are you so sure?” He asked, worrying his bottom lip. Lucifer could feel his eyes start to sting as he glanced at one of the portraits he has hanging up that were of his daughter, before turning back to look at the human standing beside him. “Were you a mother before coming here? Did you have kids?” 

She balked. Lucifer blinked. He watched as she jumped forward, stumbling as she spun to face him, and shook her head, waving her hands at him.  “No! No, no, no! Dude, I never even dated before coming here! Are you kidding!? E-Even if I did have… kids somehow, I’m only twenty-five! They’d be nowhere near Charlie’s age!” 

Lucifer curled a hand around his chin, furrowing his brows and tilting his head at her. “You’re twenty-five?”

“…Yeah?” 

“And you never dated?" That's surprising.

She shrugged. "All the guys that were in my school were morons and playboys, and literally every person I knew who was in a relationship was being abused or cheated on. I've dealt with my fair share of creeps, but, nah. I don't trust people."

Ah. That explains it. “So, then, Little Blue-“ 

“For the third time, Your Majesty, please don’t call me that.” 

He ignored her comment, instead tossing one leg over the other and lacing his hands together on his lap. Lucifer narrowed his eyes at her. “What makes you so sure this’ll work?”

At that, she hesitated. 

Lucifer watched as her facial features shifted, twisting into something darker and grim. His brows raised, finding this reaction most curious, and observed silently as she thought about how to answer. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of answer she would give, especially since she was twenty-five years old and not a parent herself. 

After a long, suffocating moment, her hands curling into fists, she moved to fiddle with her blue-painted nails, picking away at the paint. “So, I… don’t have kids. But… I do have older siblings, and… when I was small, I never really got to know them.” 

Oh? 

A sad smile spread across her lips, and Lucifer leaned forward, even more intrigued now. 

“They were… going through some things- depression, anxiety; a lot of their friends… killed themselves and, at the time, our parents were just recently divorced.” He winced a little there. “The divorce never really affected me because of how small I was, but it definitely messed with them. To make matters worse, our mother’s house was absolutely crowded with extended family who were… well, completely and utterly toxic, abusive assholes who only ever cared about themselves, never paid their bills, and decided to take all their anger out on me because I was tiny and couldn’t do anything about it.” 

She said that last part rather quickly, her smile growing sickeningly sweet in her rage, and he blinked with a dumbfounded look on his face as she pressed the tips of her fingers together. 

“Their daughter, my cousin, who would beat the absolute shit out of me and torment her siblings and even gutted a live snake, was the absolute angel in their eyes, and I was the devil because I had medical issues and was spoiled by my mom. I was four. Four. And this continued for years, and during this time all my siblings moved out, and I didn’t get to hear or see hide or hair of them for years. Also, note, none of them knew this bullshit was going on.” 

“Seriously?” Once again, he finds himself regretting giving humanity free will. The abuse aside, that snake thing was especially disturbing for... personal reason.

Eleanora shrugged. “They were always out of the house and I was convinced no one would believe me. Her parents didn’t believe me whenever I tried to defend myself, so why would anyone else believe me? People were already convinced I had an "active imagination".”

Lucifer clicked his tongue, leaning back in his seat. “Fuck that.” 

If the other six sins had met and abused his adorable Charlie, and she tried to tell him such, he would’ve believed her on the spot. But, then again, Lucifer himself was cast out of Heaven. He was young and excitable, with great plans for humanity and Earth and all that would inhabit it, but his ideas were deemed too dangerous, too much, for the likes of his angelic family, and they handled the matter by naming him the devil and tossing him down here with his beloved… who… also eventually left him, taking their daughter with her. Leaving him alone. 

Ah, damn it. 

Is he so lonely that he’s seriously empathizing with this human? 

“But, hey!” Eleanora’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked up, face shifting into one of bafflement when she grinned and playfully waved fingerguns at him. “A laugh a day keeps the trauma away! Therapy’s expensive, but telling yourself it just be like that sometimes? Doesn’t cost a cent.” 

Lucifer nodded to that, sticking out his bottom lip. “That is true…” 

“Anyways!” She cleared her throat. “After… everything that part of our family did and how it… messed with my brain, I… ended up more isolated than ever. But then they moved out! And… I was able to find out who I was outside of the trauma.” 

“And then?” 

She smiled at him, her eyes sad. “I tried to reconnect with my siblings.”

“…Did it work?” 

Eleanora beamed. “It did. I was fifteen back then. All you have to do is talk with your daughter, Lucifer. Trust me.” 

He just turned his head away, gazing at the floor and the remains of many failed letters. “I… I don’t know. What if… What if she doesn’t want to talk with me?” 

The room became filled with a heavy atmosphere, suffocating and thick with anxiety. 

Eleanora brought a hand up to her face, fingers over her lips, as she went deep into thought. Just as Lucifer’s fears began to grow darker, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach, she tentatively reached out and set a hand on his shoulder. 

He tensed, glancing down at the hand, before looking up at her, seeing her hesitating again before she let go and knelt down so he was looking down at her instead. She reached out to grasp his hands, and he startled, realizing he had been unknowingly digging his claws into his palms. 

“I’m really not good at this, but…” Eleanora took a deep breath, beginning to sing softly, her eyes gentle as she tried to comfort him in the way that would work best for him. “Take a moment to think of just… flexibility, love, and trust. Take a moment to think of just… flexibility, love and trust...” 

“...I love Charlie.” He murmured. “But that… doesn’t mean she loves me.” 

Lucifer adores his daughter more than anything; he’d give her the world if that’s what she wanted. Anything that was in his power was hers for the taking. She’s his sole reason for living. She’s so beautiful and bright and lovely, in this world so wretched and dark and filthy. But… he knows he hasn’t been a good father to her. 

He barely spent any time with her in her childhood, and after the divorce he never got to see her at all. It may be in part his fault, since he was always too scared to try, but how can he trust she won’t toss him aside like his wife did? 

“Lucifer.” Eleanora’s voice called out to him, and he flinched, looking down at her with pained eyes. She gave his hands a gentle squeeze, a sad smile on her lips. “It’s going to be okay.’

“But how do you know that?” 

“Just listen, will you?” He pouted at her words, but she stubbornly shook her head and gave him a look before softening her gaze. “Here comes a thought~ that might alarm you; what someone said… and how it harmed you.” 

Lucifer’s eyes drifted down to their joined hands, his lips pulling into a small frown. 

“Something you did~ that failed to be charming. Things that you said~ are suddenly swarming, and oh… you’re losing sight, you’re losing touch~! And all these little things seem to matter so much… that they confuse you- that she might lose you.” 

The blond king snapped his head up, eyes growing wide, but Eleanora offered him a smile. She moved to hold his hands up close to her chest. 

“Take a moment, remind yourself- to take a moment and find yourself.” The human suggested. “Take a moment and ask yourself, if this is how it’ll fall apart…” 

She held his hands out towards him, uncurling his fingers with her thumbs and unfolding them so his palms were exposed, the bits of his gloves that had been torn through there for him to see. Eleanora’s eyes were full of emotion, staring into his with an intensity she wasn’t able to handle before. 

“But it’s not, but it’s not, but it’s not, but it’s not, but it’s not.” She told him firmly, her voice sweet yet ever so strong. Lucifer felt his lips curl back, his eyes starting to sting again. He could feel his heart aching, always so terrified of the worst possible scenario yet desperately hoping for the best without putting forth any effort, his cowardice getting the better of him. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay…” 

Slowly, Eleanora stood, legs shaking after sitting in such an uncomfortable position for so long. She tugged him onto his feet, the King of Hell finding himself going along with it, watching breathlessly as she smiled at him before releasing one of his hands to brush her fingers over the letter that was still resting on the desk, waiting to be signed. 

“You’ve got nothing, got nothing, got nothing to fear.” Head lowered, her confidence seemed to waver, before she lifted her free hand to rest against her chest, trying to stand tall before him so he wouldn’t doubt her words. Brown eyes gazed into crimson, and she gave his fingers one more good squeeze. “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.” 

Lucifer was silent, staring at her for a long minute. 

It was so long she started to look uncomfortable, the woman growing worried that she might have sang the wrong thing, but then he turned to look at the letter. 

Taking a deep breath, Lucifer tried to compose himself, snapping his fingers to repair his gloves before moving to pick up the pen he had set down. In that moment of quiet, repeating in his mind the words she had sung ever so sweetly to him, he asked, “How… should I sign it?” 

“Hmm?” She blinked, having not expected that question. “Uh… however you want? She’s your daughter.” 

Sitting straight, he tapped the letter with the pen. “But what would Charlie like best? Should I be formal? How formal? King of Hell formal,” He spoke with a silly faux intimidating voice, waggling his shoulders and almost earning a laugh from the human woman, “or a Sincerely, Your Father kinda thing? Does she even like formalities? I know she’s grown now, but when she was little-“ 

“How about, Love Dad?” Eleanora suggested, a small smile on her lips, her eyes shimmering with a hint of baffled exasperation and growing fondness. She rested a hand on the back of his chair, leaning down just slightly so they were on eye level. “I think she’d like that.” 

Lucifer froze, pen dropping from his hand. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he looked up at her, his true personality showing through now that they’ve had not one, but two emotional music numbers. “L-Love… Dad? That’s not- That’s not too cheesy? Too cringe? She won’t- She won’t find it too much?” 

She stared at him, understanding slowly dawning on her that he was less a king and more just a depressed and lonely man who wanted so badly to be a good father, yet didn’t know how. She knew he was immortal, but appearance wise he looked more like he was in his early to mid thirties. This man was an absolutely mess. “Your Majesty… Lucifer, sir… uh…” 

Eleanora looked at the letter and then at him. His eyes were pleading. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this… but Charlie loves cheesy. Formalities freak her out.” 

“…Oh.” 

“Yeeeah.” 

Heart pounding, Lucifer shakily signed the letter, finding himself- against his better judgment- drawing some hearts around the Love, Dad that he wrote, before folding the letter and waving his hand, an envelope appearing in the air. He caught it between his fingers as it fluttered, and the king carefully tucked the letter inside before stamping it shut with a wax seal. 

Eleanora almost flinched when he held it out to her. “There. It’s done. You’re certain Charlie will like it?” 

“Y-Yeah! Of course!” She awkwardly reached out to take the letter from him. “Um, do you wanna send her a gift too? Just to be safe?” 

Lucifer blinked. “A… gift? Like what?” 

“I-I dunno, how about…” The Blue Human looked around the room, taking note of the hundreds of rubber ducks. There were so many, he even had some stuffed under a table. She didn’t even notice the paper ducks hanging over the doorway until now. Deciding not to think too hard about, she gestured to a pile. “Why not one of these? They’re cute. Charlie loves animals!” 

At that, the king jumped out of his seat, laughing awkwardly and wagging a finger at the woman. “Oho! Ha! Haha! No! No, no, no!” He crossed his arms in an X over his chest, shaking his head as his heeled boots clacked against the floor. “Absolutely not! Ex-nay on the duck-nay! None of these are… are…”

Lucifer scrunched up his face and bent over, waving his arms dramatically.

“Are good enough for my Charlie! They’re failures, all of them!” 

“Wait, seriously?” Eleanora walked over to pick one up from off the top of one of the bigger piles. The one she grabbed was wearing a red-and-white striped sweater. “But they’re adorable!” 

She squeezed it. 

It squeaked.

A big goofy grin spread across her face. 

The human cooed, holding it up with both hands, and Lucifer froze- on his tiptoes, half bent over in his overdramatic panic, his arms held out and hands extended in front of him. The devil king stared at her, watching as she squeezed it again. “She’d love this! Ohhh~ or maybe this one? Awww, it has a little hat! So precious!” 

She reached out to pick it up. 

It took Lucifer’s stunned brain a bit too long to recognize what the specific hat he had put on that particular rubber duck meant, but once he did he tossed a hand out, pointing a claw at it with a panicked shriek. 

“No!” 

A beam of light blasted out of his hand, and Eleanora screamed, stumbling and falling back as the duck was simultaneously sent flying out of her hands and incinerated. She looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes, but he just turned to her, breathing heavily. 

“Don’t… Don’t squeak that one.” He told her. “It’ll kill you.” 

Well, not anymore, anyways, given he just blasted that thing into oblivion. But it could’ve. Would’ve, had he not acted. Then Charlie would be sad, and he wouldn’t have anyone to give him advice anymore.  

Oddly enough, he’s actually growing rather fond of this human. She was a good one. Even better, she understood his relationship with Charlie, or lack thereof, and was actively trying to help. In an even odder way, she felt a bit like a kindred spirit. 

But that could just be his loneliness and desperation for connection talking. 

“That fucking beam you shot out would’ve killed me!” Eleanora cried from her spot on the floor, swearing as loud as could be. “You could have just grabbed it from me!” 

Lucifer paused. “Oh. Huh. Yeah, guess I could’ve.” 

Seeing him give a small, half-hearted shrug, the human forgot all fear of him being the devil king and picked up the sweater-wearing duck she had dropped, tossing it at him in a fit of anger. Lucifer blinked and looked down, watching as it hit his chest with a squeak. 

He turned to her, deeply unimpressed. “Really? That’s what you choose to do? Even though I just saved you? You’re in my house, and you’re throwing my rubber ducks… at me?”  

Eleanora opened her mouth like she was about to yell at him, but thought better of it and huffed, pushing herself up onto her feet and moving to set the letter safely on the table. She marched over to another pile of rubber ducks. Picking one up, she turned and faced him, and he just stared, eyes half-lidded, as she threw another one at him. 

It bounced off his shoulder. 

With a squeak, it began to glow with a brilliant yellow light. The light faded after three seconds. 

When she threw a third duck at him, Lucifer took it upon himself to dodge. He barked a laugh, pointing at her. “Ha! Missed!” 

Unfortunately, as soon as the duck landed on the floor, squeaking, a bolt of lightning shot out from its beak and scorched a wall. 

Eleanora jumped and screeched, practically throwing herself onto the desk in the same way someone might’ve done had they seen a spider. “What the frick, dude!? Lightning!? Don’t- Don’t you have one that squeaks rainbows or something!? Or glitter!? Something not deadly!?” 

Lucifer held up a finger, about to respond, only to think about it, tapping a claw to his chin. “Actually… I don’t think I have one with rainbows? Glitter, definitely. Dunno where it’s at, though. It’s in one of these piles.” He raised an arm, gesturing widely to the rubber ducks around them. 

The human gaped at him. 

Lifting a hand, she brushed her bangs back out of her face, baffled, letting out a huff, and Lucifer hummed, summoning his staff so he could lean forward against it, rocking on his heels as he rested his chin on his hands. He watched as her chest heaved as she scoffed, her shapely legs shifting as she slumped over, dropping her arms to rest in her lap as she shook her head. 

“You’re ridiculous.” Oh, that’s something. Rather than annoyance, there was a hint of amusement in her tone, like she found his ridiculousness entertaining or, dare say, charming.

Lucifer found his eyebrows raising. “Am I? I wouldn’t have guessed.” 

“Pfft!” She didn’t even try to hide her laugh. “Right!? It’s not obvious at all.” 

Even stranger than her tone of voice, Lucifer found himself smiling, lips spreading wide across his face and showcasing his sharp teeth for all the world to see. 

It felt nice- having someone to talk to, someone who wasn’t a wretched Sinner and who didn’t have ulterior motives. Someone he didn’t have to worry about, whether it be their intentions or… otherwise. It was a welcome distraction. 

One that… actually felt good, instead of being a pathetic endeavor to keep his mind off of other things. It felt so good, he could feel a song bubbling its way up his chest. 

“Well, I may be ridiculous, but what does that make you?” Lucifer found himself saying, standing up straight and tapping his cane against the floor before waltzing his way over to the desk where she was still sitting. Eleanora blinked. Alarm flashed across her face when he leaned against the side of his chair, arms folding over his chest, fixing her with a look. “You just threw rubber ducks at the King of Hell. Honesty, it was quite bold of you.”

“Th-That was… I, um…” Her expression was complete and utter panic. 

Lucifer’s smile broadened into a grin, absolutely delighted at this opportunity to tease her. “A human like you? Why, Little Blue- I can hardly believe you!” 

Her panic instantly switched to confusion, the woman catching the beat he was speaking with, before squeaking when he suddenly jumped up onto the desk and slid to sit beside her, one leg crossed over the other. 

As Lucifer started to sing, he bounced his shoulders, grinning wide as could be as he looked at her. “What a brave human you are~ facing Hell and coming this far! Picking a fight with the king, I mean really, just who do you think you are?” 

“I-“ Eleanora did not have any idea where this was going. As such, she didn’t know if he was actually upset or not. “I just- I’m sorry? I didn’t mean to- well, I did mean to, but it wasn’t-“ 

“A human like you, sweet Little Blue, I just can’t understand you. Come on, let’s walk!” He jumped off the desk, snatching her hand and dragging her with him, and she yelped when he yanked her forward and spun her around so they were facing each other. “Let’s talk, let’s have a dance!” 

“Lucifer-“

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, not at all sincere, laughing as he grabbed both her hands and began to move around. The woman’s feet stumbled as she tried to keep in time with him. “You wanted to dance with the devil, so here I am! Why not revel and enjoy the song?” 

She made a noise of surprise when the room around them began to change, magical silver music notes drifting through the air, circling them. The sky above was a brilliant glittering gold. 

“Lah~ dah, a lati dah!” Lucifer sang, his dull red eyes a brilliant crimson as they spun atop a crystal clear lake, each step causing the surface to ripple. “Lah dah lah dah, lah lati dah!” 

He couldn’t help but watch as wonder began to shine in her eyes, something warm that had once been long dead inside him seeming to rise and glimmer as the world around them sparkled gold and blue. Lifting an arm, Eleanora actually giggled as she spun on her toes, the devil king letting her circle around him before being pulled back into his grasp. 

Before, she had been terrified, and she sang only to comfort him, but now? 

She was truly enjoying the music. 

“A dance with the devil’s what you wanted, so take the leap, take a glance~ enjoy your unique, magical circumstance! Not many get a chance like this!” 

Whether he was referring to her situation as a human who was summoned into Hell itself while still being very much alive, or simply because she was dancing with the King of Hell, he wasn’t really sure. Lucifer was simply letting the words flow, and enjoying himself as he watched the various emotions paint across her face. 

“Lah dah lah dah, la lati dah~!” He sang, before flashing her a big grin. “Say, Little Blue, is that a smile?” 

The human gasped, looking at him with big brown eyes, concern flashing across her features just briefly until she saw his crinkled eyes, realizing there wasn’t a hint of animosity in his words. 

Spinning and releasing her, she fell back with a yelp, but didn’t fall as he caught her by the waist. “I knew you’d find this song to be worthwhile!” 

“Lucif-“ Eleanora inhaled sharply, the devil king leaning towards her just a bit too close, but in a way that was much different from how he did in the first song he sang to her. 

His grin was wider, but not forced, and his crimson irises were sparkling. “Little Blue, Ellie, you~! You made a deal to work at my side, to help me with my daughter so I won’t have to say goodbye, but you~!” 

Lucifer pulled her back up onto her feet, but did not remove his hand from her waist. 

“You don’t know how to pick your battles! Trying to pick a fight with the one who gave Eve the apple, ha! You really are reckless, y’know that?”

“Unfortunately?”

 Lucifer grinned. 

“You wanted to dance with the devil~! So here I am! Take the leap, take the chance, enjoy your unique magical circumstance!” Grasping her hand, tugging her close, they began to dance together again, Lucifer taking the lead as she stumbled along, her face red as could be as he beamed. “Lah dah lah dah, la lati dah~ tell me, Little Blue; you’re a gutsy gal! Just why are you helping me?” 

She blinked. “Why? Because…” 

Eleanora thought about it. For once, her feet were actually matching his steps.

“You love your daughter? And… because I want to? I don’t… think you’re a bad guy. Scary, yeah, since you… could definitely kill me, but- I dunno, you’re kinda nice?” 

Lucifer’s pearly white grin softened then, his eyes burning at the sincerity of her answer. Something in his heart throbbed, and he smiled gently as he sent her spinning to his right, releasing her hand, red flower petals appearing and fluttering around her as she slowed to a halt, turning to look at him once she was several feet away. Lucifer’s eyes widened a little at the sight, and he pursed his lips, wondering if this was truly alright. 

She shouldn’t even be here in Hell. 

Can he… really allow himself to rely on her? He should hate her, honestly, given she’s one of the beings who was given free will and with that free will has made a pact of all things with his daughter, and yet… he can’t. She’s so honest and nice, and… warm. 

And pretty. 

Nope, no, not the time, brain! 

Attraction does not equal affection, and he’s not even sure if he can try that right now- or if he’s even capable of it, considering how badly his heart was broken when his wife left him. Even his brain’s become a scrambled mess over the years of isolation and crippling loneliness. 

Friends are good, though! 

He can handle making a friend. Right? Right. 

I can have a human friend. 

Lucifer watched as a few butterflies flew towards Eleanora, who squeaked in slight terror and ducked down, freezing in place when one landed on her head. He bit his lip so he wouldn’t laugh. Walking over, he scared the magic critters away with his staff and held out his hand, the brunette woman pausing to look up at him with gratitude before hesitantly taking hold of his hand. 

“Thank you.” He told her, voice soft, and she recoiled, eyes wide. 

“Huh? O-Oh, you don’t- haha, nah, it’s okay!” She smiled awkwardly at him. “I’m just… glad I can help. Like I said- I don’t really do anything in the hotel except exist, mostly because we don’t have any residents yet, but, hey! If I can help you bond with Charlie, who’s been super nice to me, then I wanna help!” 

Lucifer chuckled, and this time when he tugged her towards him Eleanora didn’t yelp. She just gazed at him with wide eyes, her face burning red, as their chests and faces nearly touched. 

One hand in hers, the other on her waist, the corners of his eyes crinkled warmly. “And I’m not supposed to thank you for that? Don’t be ridiculous, Ellie. Being fallen doesn't mean I've forgotten how to be grateful. I may be the devil, but I was once an archangel."

She was definitely befuddled by his change in attitude, as well as the sudden nickname, but decided not to comment on it. 

Apparently “Ellie” was more acceptable than “Little Blue”. 

Although, if you ask him, “Little Blue” was much cuter. It suited her. A human in Hell, weak and without magic, lacking any and all ways to defend herself should she be attacked without relying on the pact, dressed in all blue, and… well, short? It was adorable. The best nickname. 

He absolutely enjoyed how tall his ex wife was, as it made for some fun antics where he could bring out his wings and fly about, but having someone a little closer to his eye level wasn’t bad either. 

Wait, what is his brain trying to imply? 

Stop it! Focus! 

He leaned in closer, and Ellie leaned back, intimidated and very much flustered. When he started singing again, his voice was lower, gentler, but still filled with gratitude and glee. “I’ve been wanting~ for so long, to see my daughter~ and hear her song. But in the end, I ran away… like a coward…” 

Lucifer lowered his head, looking away. 

“But,” Looking back up, his red eyes met Eleanora’s, and he flashed her a grateful, painfully hopeful grin, “with you at my side, helping me stay upright, to face the fight, I might just be able~ for once not be a fable~ in my daughter’s life!” 

The world around them shimmered, the music notes fluttering down towards the lake like feathers. The lighting grew softer, but Eleanora was so entranced by Lucifer’s voice and his scarlet eyes she barely noticed. 

Even as they began to dance again, and he spun her around and tugged her back, grasping both of her hands, her gaze did not leave his form. “Lah dah lah lati da~! To be a light and set things right, so what remains is not devoured~! I thank you, Ellie.”

He lifted her hands up to his forehead as he bowed his head, his lips curling back. 

“Thank you. For dancing with this… pathetic excuse of a man and devil.” 

“…You’re not pathetic.”

“No, no. I am.” He said, shaking his head and lifting his gaze to meet hers. Eleanora was frowning. “If not for you, that letter… would never have been finished. It wouldn’t have even seen an envelope. I’m… the worst. Truly. I call myself Charlie’s father, but I can never do anything on my own. I just… wait. Hoping she calls me. That she reaches out. I’m pathetic, and… I know it.” 

“You’re not pathetic.” The brunette stated firmly. Lucifer blinked. “You’re just scared. It’s okay to be scared.” 

“But I-“ 

“You want to fix things, right?” She asked, and he hesitantly nodded. “You finished the letter, didn’t you?” Another nod. “You’re taking the first step. What would be pathetic is if you gave up midway through. But you didn’t. You finished writing it.” 

“...If it weren’t for you, I-”

Lucifer was cut-off rather rudely by a phone’s call ringtone going off. The song was distinctly in Japanese, but it was definitely the iconic, I Want to Change the World from a classic anime that Eleanora enjoys. Her eyes as wide as dinner plates, the magic around them popping out of existence, she yanked her hands away from Lucifer and fumbled for her phone. 

He made a face. “Who is that?” 

“Charlie!” 

Immediately, the man was stricken with panic, jumping back and flailing his hands, cane clattering to the ground. “Charlie!? Char- Charlie is calling you!? Char-Char!? My daughter!? Wh-What do we do!? What do I do!?” 

“Uh, ubduh- ahhhhh, I dunno!” Eleanora was panicking herself, frantically waving a hand at him before taking several deep breaths. “Calm! Stay calm! Don’t say anything! I got this. Phew. Okay.” 

Clearing her throat, she slid a thumb across the screen to accept the call and put the phone on speaker, holding it out with a nervous grin. She rested a free hand on her waist. 

“Heeeey, Charlie! What’s up?”

“Where are you!?”

“Huh?” 

The princess sounded terrified. “Where are you!? Are you okay!? Vaggie went to go find you, but you weren’t in your room, so we’ve been searching for you, but you’re just gone and we don’t know what to do and- are you okay!? You weren’t kidnapped by some mean demons, were you!?” 

At that, Eleanora and Lucifer looked at each other, and the King of Hell awkwardly placed a gloved hand over his face, cringing, because yes- she was kidnapped, and it was by him. Eleanora had to suppress a laugh.

“Are you hurt anywhere!?” 

“I-I’m not-“ Eleanora stammered for a moment, brain trying to come up with some sort of explanation, Lucifer waving a hand in front of his face and shaking his head, teeth bared in his panic. Her eyes lit up. “A-Actually, I… have a surprise for you!” 

Lucifer gaped, jaw ajar in his disbelief.

“Which is… why I’m not at the hotel! Haha, sorry, I know I should have told you I was gonna be gone for a while, but, like- I really didn’t wanna give it away, y’know?” As if. Lucifer kidnapped her without a warning. Eleanora had absolutely no idea she was going to be gone from the hotel.

Charlie’s worry quickly vanished. “A surprise?” 

Her excited gasp could be heard over the speaker.

“I love surprises!” 

“Right!? Thought you might.” Eleanora flashed Lucifer a playful wink and fingergun, silently letting him know they had this. His eyes were wide, the man unable to believe this was happening. “Also, question. How do… you feel about ducks?” 

“Awww, I love ducks! They’re so cute! Wait, does the surprise include ducks?” She gasped again. “Is it a live one!? Are you getting me a live duck!?” 

“…It does involve ducks, but not a live one. I don’t think.” The human made a face, and Lucifer began to lower his hands from his face, the man actually listening to the conversation now and realizing Eleanora truly did know what his daughter would like. “Where would I even get one in Hell? Do they have ducks in Hell?”

“Good point…” Charlie let out a weak chuckle, embarrassed. “And we do! They’re just… not normal?”

“Also! How do you feel about rainbows and glitter?” 

“Yeeeeessssss~!” 

“Aww, yeah!” Eleanora snapped her fingers, striking a pose as she held a hand dramatically up in the air above her head. “Knew it! Alrighty! Well, to answer your questions; I’m okay, I am not hurt, and… let’s not focus on the kidnapping bit, okay, bestie?” 

“Wait, what? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. Part of the surprise. Anyways~ I shall see you soon! Tell Vaggie I said hi! Hopefully you like the surprise!” 

“Aww, you really don’t have to, you know.”

“It’s all good.” She beamed, and turning her head she sent Lucifer a warm smile. “I want to.” 

The king was stunned. 

“El~! Awwww! Okay, well, since you absolutely insist on surprising me, I guess I have no choice but to wait! Hehehe. Ooh, Vaggie, Vaggie, guess what?” 

There was the sound of footsteps and then a calm yet very amused voice going, “What is it?” 

“El said she has a surprise for me! That’s why she’s gone! She’s getting it ready!”

“A surprise? Wait, really?” Vaggie sounded very confused. “But… she doesn’t know anyone in Hell! Where did she go? How did she leave without getting hurt?” 

“Maybe she influenced the Sinners with her goodness!? They won’t wanna hurt someone who’s super duper nice to them, right?” 

“Oh, gosh…” Eleanora was starting to look incredibly embarrassed now, the woman rubbing her exposed neck. “I really ain’t that nice. But, I’m glad you think so! You’ll… learn what’s going on once I get back, okay? With… the surprise.” 

Vaggie was skeptical, but Charlie was delighted. “Okay! Hehe. See you soon! Oooh, I can’t wait!” 

“Just be careful. It really isn’t safe down here.”

“Trust me,” Eleanora said, expression contorting with a grimace, “I know.” 

With that, she hung up. An exhausted breath escaped her lips, and she turned to look at Lucifer. Tucking her phone in her pocket, she brushed her bangs out of her face with a weary smile. 

“See? What’d I say? She loves cute and cheesy stuff!” 

Lucifer just took in a deep breath, brought his hands up to squish his cheeks, and let out a screech before running circles around the room. Eleanora squawked, turning to watch the devil king lose his mind. “Why, why, why, whyyyyy!? Why did you tell her you had a surprise for her!?” 

“...So you couldn’t duck out?” 

He skidded to a halt, the floor squeaking against his heels, and he looked to see her grinning goofily at him, pointing at one of the many piles of rubber ducks that were in his room. “Uh-huh. I see what you did there. You think you’re hilarious, don’t’cha?” 

“I do, yes.” She snickered. “And, hey! Got you to stop freaking out.” 

Lucifer balked, realizing she was right. 

Not giving him time to start panicking again, the human walked over and patted his shoulder. “So, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you made all these rubber duckies, right?” Seeing him nod slowly, she continued. “Okay. Well… can you make one that squeaks rainbows and glitter? Or will that… take a day or two?” 

“A day or- pfft, tch, pch’a!” Lucifer made a bunch of scoffing noises and waved her off, puffing out his chest as he rested a hand on his hip. With his free hand, he lifted his chin and rubbed his fingers together, acting haughty. “I could make, like, a hundred of those before the day’s over.” 

Eleanora placed her hands on both of his shoulders then, making a bit of a face as she kept her smile on. “We only need one.” 

“...I’ll make two.” 

Eleanora had to stifle a laugh at his determined pout. 

Previous Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/avionvadion/741473939450216448/i-have-no-self-control-so-here-ya-go?source=share

[bbypedrito]

Rough | Joel Miller/f!Reader

Joel is a big ‘ol softie about you and your bad pain days and as much as you love his gentleness, sometimes you crave something a little more rough.

rating: explicit, minors DNI

warnings: one shot, established relationship, vaginal fingering, spanking, slight praise kink, joel calls reader a good girl, no y/n or reader descriptions besides references to experiencing reoccurring flare ups of pain. setting is purposefully vague but definitely post-outbreak.

a/n: i genuinely didn’t have ANY plans to write joel anytime soon - i was actually gonna write a marcus pike fic instead - but then the other day i was having a pain flare up and started to think about joel to cheer myself up and things got…self indulgent. i don’t know if it’ll resonate with many other people here but i thought i’d share it anyway :-) this has been my first time ever writing a reader fic, first time writing joel or any pedro character AND my first time writing hetero sex in a very long while so…please bear all of that in mind 🥲

📌 can now also be read on ao3!

“I just don’t like it,” Joel says. It’s about the third time he’s repeated the phrase since you broached the subject this evening, pacing back and forth in your tiny shared room like an agitated wild animal trapped in a cage. His footfalls are heavy, old work boots thudding rhythmically on old floorboards, and you wish the stubborn man would relax for just a second because this is getting ridiculous.

“Joel,“ you try, but he shakes his head.

“Wouldn’t feel right.”

“Joel-“

“Too much risk.”

“Joel!” You grab him by the arm to stop him in his tracks and he immediately stills, finally looking you in the eyes. “I’m asking you to fuck me rough, not perform open heart surgery on me.”

Unamused, he rolls his eyes at your joke. “Might as well be, with all the stress you’re puttin’ me through.” Noticing your face fall, he immediately softens, “I just don’t wanna cause any more hurt than necessary, sweetheart.”

It’s sweet, the way Joel is careful and so, so achingly gentle with you. He knows the pain you’ve been through - still go through - and he always goes the extra mile to make sure you’re comfortable.

You learned quickly it’s Joel’s love language - his actions speaking for him rather than words - and it’s downright romantic, in an honest, simple, Joel Miller kinda way. He trades anything he can give to make sure you have painkillers that actually work, always somehow gets his hands on fresh, clean, soft blankets just for you to burrow into when you need rest days in bed and he always seems to know when to give you either the space or the company you need depending on your mood.

And when he takes you to bed, he treats you with such tender care and gentle reverence it makes your chest hurt.

You love it, love him for it and you know it’s one of his ways to show he cares for you too but…God, you want more. You want the man Joel is clearly putting a herculean effort into holding back when he slowly and gently takes you apart. You want him to fuck you, selfishly take his pleasure from you, make you feel every single inch of him with every step you take the next day.

“You won’t hurt me,” you reassure him, “not in a way that’s bad, anyway. I want it. I want you.” You cup his face in your hands, stroking his bearded cheeks with your thumbs. Joel tilts his head just a fraction and leans into your touch with a soft exhale. “Do you trust me?”

“‘Course,” he replies, and you resist the urge to laugh fondly and kiss the frowny crease between his brows because it comes out a touch sulky. You don’t wanna risk wounding the man’s pride at this juncture — not when you feel so close to getting what you want.

“Good,” you lean in to kiss him, both hands splaying on his broad chest, “so trust me when I say,” a nip at his full bottom lip, “I want you to ruin me.”

You pull away slowly and feel victorious when you see Joel’s dark eyes looking back into yours, pupils so dilated they’re almost pitch black. Knowing you’ve just about already won this argument, you decide to stoke the flames further by nuzzling into the thick tendons of his neck and letting your teeth catch on the sensitive skin there. You feel rather than hear the soft groan this pulls from him, the way it rumbles in his chest, and your hands tighten their grip on the soft fabric of his wash-worn shirt.

“What you’re askin’ me for is…I won’t be gentle,” Joel warns.

“Is that a promise?” You tease.

Finally, finally, he starts touching you back, reaching for your hips to pull you in closer and kiss you properly. You moan into his mouth needily and that’s when Joel’s resolve snaps like the string of a bow drawn too far beyond its limits. His hands tighten on your hips before moving down to grab your ass and use it as leverage to press you against his chest and the strain of his cock against his jeans.

“I’m just givin’ you one last chance to back out, sweetheart, that’s all.” His chest is rising and falling heavily, his nostrils flaring and his eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen pointed in your direction. He looks half wild and it really shouldn’t turn you on but it does, fuck, so much that you’re delirious with it.

Maintaining eye contact, you grind yourself insistently against him and it’s the final answer Joel seems to need. He curses under his breath, muttering something about you being the death of him before guiding you backwards against the wall and kissing you with such heated fervor your head spins and your pussy pulses with need.

He brackets you in with his arms, bracing himself with hands either side of you on the wall and you gasp when he presses a thigh between your legs for you to shamelessly grind down on through your sleep shorts. The rough denim is only barely the right amount of friction you need and you whine as you grind down harder, trying to relieve the deep ache of arousal in your cunt.

“That’s it,” Joel murmurs between kisses, lips brushing yours. “I got you, baby. Use me just like that.”

You tug him back in for a needy kiss, hands running up his chest to cling to his shoulders, then up again to run through his hair, before back down again to paw uselessly at his shirt. Joel pulls away and huffs with amusement, disentangling from you to undo the buttons so you can hungrily pull it off his broad frame and discard it. Feeling confident — and perhaps a little heated and possessive in the moment — you run your nails down his bare chest, leaving little white lines that turn pink and then red in their wake. Joel inhales sharply, watching you with hooded eyes and you shiver at how nakedly hungry he looks.

He reaches for his belt to unbuckle it, but pauses for half a moment. Seemingly changing his mind, he decides to undress you instead, pulling your t-shirt up and over your head and unhooking your bra. Your head falls backwards against the peeling wallpaper with a soft thunk when Joel harshly pinches at your nipples with rough hands, rolling them between calliused fingers until they’re peaked and swollen. You squirm, sensitive, the sensations going straight to your already soaking wet cunt.

“Please, Joel. Please.” You’re not even sure what it is you’re pleading for, and you whine almost pitifully when Joel stops touching you and takes a step back.

“Turn around and brace yourself against the wall.” His voice is firm and you obey immediately. “Good girl.”

The praise makes your heart and your cunt flutter and you barely have time to catch your breath before Joel abruptly pulls down your shorts and his hand comes smacking down on your ass. You gasp at the sharp shock of it, the sting that immediately warms and blooms into hot pleasure.

Joel chuckles. “This what you wanted?”

“Yes, please, again, please,” you babble, sweaty palms slipping a little against the wall.

“Good girl.” Another smack, a little harder this time, and your hips buckle forwards, trying in vain to seek friction. Joel notices the desperate wiggling of your hips and reaches round you to cup your mound, his other hand running over your reddening ass cheek. “So wet for me already, just from gettin’ spanked like this,” he says, voice rough but hushed as if in awe of your response to him.

All you can do is nod frantically in reply and press yourself greedily against his fingers and he clicks his tongue at your eagerness. Two thick fingers sink inside of you easily and when you try to fuck yourself on them Joel uses his free hand to land another hard smack on your ass.

“Greedy,” he admonishes, “you just can’t wait, can you?” He crooks his fingers, pressing them up against the perfect spot inside of you and lands another hard smack and you moan so loud you’d be embarrassed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.

With a murmur of praise and lips pressed hotly to your ear Joel adds a third finger and the tight stretch around him burns and knocks the air out your lungs in a ragged gasp.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whimper, and it spurs him on, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace. Your back arches, hands scrabbling for purchase and you fall forwards slightly to press your forehead against the wall, eyes screwing shut. The wet sound of your slick as Joel fucks you with his fingers and the smack of skin on skin as he spanks you in time with his thrusts fill the room and it’s so obscene your face flushes, heart pounding in your ears.

“Fuck,” Joel moans, “you gonna come for me like this? Pressed up against the wall and all over my fingers?”

“Yes,” you breathe, “please.”

Joel presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tight, demanding circles until you buck against him uncontrollably and tighten around him with a cry. He buries his face into your shoulder as your hips shake, fingers still working in and out of you as you ride out your intense orgasm.

Boneless, you slump back against him with a sigh and Joel catches you, wrapping his free arm around your middle. Your cunt is still sporadically pulsing around the fingers still inside and you hold back a whimper when Joel eventually eases them out of you.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks you, pressing soft, fluttery kisses down the side of your neck. The brush of his moustache against your sensitive skin makes you giggle.

“Fucking sublime,” you reply, grinning. In truth, your body is aching and you can feel dull pain starting to thrum in your joints and muscles, but you’re used to that by now and you know you can handle it. Besides, it was definitely worth it. You tilt your head back to look Joel in the eye. “Thank you — for trusting me, I mean. But also the really great orgasm.”

Joel’s lips curl upwards into a fond smile and when his arms tighten affectionately around you his hard cock presses up against your ass. You start to move back against him and he groans low in his throat, but before things can get heated again he turns you around so you’re standing in front of him at arm’s length.

“Not now. Next time,” he promises, bending with a grunt to pick up your clothes and handing them to you. “I don’t wanna push you too hard tonight.”

You can’t hide your pout of disappointment, but when your body protests with twinges of pain when you move to get dressed you concede to yourself that Joel’s right, so you let him gently guide you into bed. You watch surreptitiously from under your cocoon of blankets as Joel undresses down to his boxers and when he catches you looking he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Insatiable creature,” he scolds before settling into bed next to you. You curl yourself around him, tangling your legs with his and pressing your face against his broad shoulder.

“Wake me up if you start hurtin’ any, are we clear?” Joel grumbles into the pillow.

You smile fondly against his warm skin. The rough, slightly wild Joel you got to finally experience tonight was definitely everything you’d been hoping for, but this version of him now, soft around the edges, soft bare skin, sharing a bed with you, this version of himself he’s worked so hard on rediscovering in order to take care of you will always be your favourite.

“I promise.”

[bitchlessdino]

chan who claims to be a master of pleasure when in actuality he’s never made sometime cum. cue reader showing him the real way to please somebody. this isn’t a rq or anything i just want you to think about super inexperienced chan with super experienced reader. im thinking college vibes ya know. him and reader have some classes together and they’re not close friends but they know each other enough. after taking to one of the girls that chan slept with you realize this man’s dick game is weak and being the lovely classmate you are why not help him out.

Thank you for clarifying this isnt a request. I appreciate a lot just as much as I appreciate these asks!

Warning: explicit smut

Chan sounds like such a loser and IRL I would not go for this kind of man, but I just imagine his sweet face bragging to everyone. It’s so obvious that he’s lying and he’s such a bad liar about it but you can’t help but feel bad that you offer him the opportunity to learn a thing or two. Poor boy has never made someone cum and that’s a little embarrassing. he’s thinking that this is an excuse for you to have some fun with him (we all get it. He’s super hot) but when they get down to it, he realizes there’s a lot more to learn then he initially realized. Like a lot more.

Turns out trying to imitate things from p0rn is not actually good enough sex, so you give him a rundown of foreplay: good places to lick or mark, places that feel good when touched, places that feel good with his mouth on, how fast and slow he should go, etc etc. it turns out that all he needed was helping hand, and a lot of his previous partners weren’t giving that. they simply gave up.

Feeling his fingers pump inside of you as your arousal coated every inch of his hand and palm, you would gently guide him and tell him whether he is getting better or if he needed more or less. Soon enough, you’d erupt into more genuine reaction.

Your moans are nothing like hes heard before. like somehow there’s life in them unlike the hollow feigned moans of previous partners that pitied him. You actually knew what you were doing, and were willing to help him from start to end. He began getting obsessed with the sounds. I made sure to ask every few minutes or so if “this feel good?” “Am I doing this right”

That was then that he’d use the same advice he learned about foreplay on strokes with his own cock. He didn’t let it get sloppy like he’s done before every pump was sharp and precise, gleaming with validation as those questions repeated, making sure you felt every inch and enjoyed every thrust until he bottomed out inside you in the most decadent way.

Your feedback was much appreciated and every time you call him a good boy, his stomach would burn with such a fire, fueling him to go on for hours and hours. And within that time you’ve managed to make him do it almost felt like the impossible, make someone else orgasm beside him. Multiple times in fact.

It’s bliss, it’s power, it’s knowledge. And with a bit more practice, you knew there was so much more that he could do, because if there was one thing about him, the separated him from the rest of the cocky men that think they’re all good at sex, is that he was eager to learn. And that was a fantastic start.

[lavndrystudios]

the feels

pairing: sunoo x reader, jay x reader

characters: kim sunoo, jay park (enha), lee heeseung, shin yuna, lee chaeryeong, yang jungwon, nishimura riki, jang wonyoung

word count: ~4.6k

warnings: school au, bad writing, title kinda has nothing to do with the story, jungwon and chaeryeong like each other for plot purposes, i tried to keep it as ambiguous as possible but if there’s anything i should change let me know!, i have no idea how hair dye works, basically sunoo likes you but you like jay

an; this is my first story! i’d appreciate if you guys would let me know what you think, i kinda wanna start posting my stuff on here! i have a part two written if anyone is interested in that (maybe i'll post it anyway even if no one is interested lol). feedback is appreciated and i hope you guys like it! :)

You let out sigh of relief as you drop into your usual seat at the lunch table. You do a mental head count of who is already there as you take your lunch out of your book bag.

Yuna, Chaeryeong, Jay, Jungwon, Heeseung, and-.

You.

I don’t know you.

And it must show on your face that you don’t know this person because Jay elbows you in the side before whispering, “you’re staring.”

You jolt out of your daze and continue to unpack your lunch, greeting your other friends with smiles. Heeseung speaks up first.

He clears his throat. “Guys, this is Sunoo. He just moved here and he’s in my history class. Everyone be nice to him.”

Yuna scoffs. “Be nice? When have you ever known me to not be nice?”

“You pushed me down the stairs last week,” Jay counters.

“You posted that video of me dancing in my sleep after I asked you not to,” Jungwon adds.

“Literally this morning you forgot my name and called me Heechul,” Heeseung pouts.

“You all are so ungrateful,” Yuna interjects. “You know what I call that? Friendship. People would kill to have a friendship like that with me.”

“If they’re willing to kill to be friends with you, then maybe you deserve them,” Chaeryeong mumbles. Yuna’s jaw drops open.

You decide to step in before things start to escalate. “Hi Sunoo, I’m Y/N, and I promise we’re not always this crazy,” you say. His eyes sparkle, and he giggles.

“Okay, nice to meet you, Y/N.” You nod.

“Likewise.” Off to the side, Heeseung smirks at Sunoo. Sunoo just blushes and looks down at his food.

***

You sip from your water bottle lazily as you sit to the side and watch your friends’ dance practice. They’re joined by newcomer Sunoo, who is surprisingly very flexible. He picks up the moves quickly and seems to fit right into your friend group. You tell him such when he sits down next to you during their water break.

He bears a big grin after you do. His ears turn red as he mumbles out a thank you. You smile back at him, happy to have made him happy with your compliment.

“Do you dance?” He asks, changing the topic.

You sigh. “Yes and no? It’s sorta complicated.” You chuckle to try and ease the tension.

“Yes and no?,” he repeats. His eyes are genuine and wide, curiosity evident in them. He seems like he really wants to know. So you tell him.

“I used to. A lot, actually. In middle school and during my freshman year. Then when sophomore year hit, a family member of mine had a big health scare. They haven’t really…been the same ever since. I stopped dancing to make time to take care of them, and I sorta lost confidence in myself.” You begin to fiddle with your shoelaces, feeling suddenly very shy. “Everyone else improved so much while I was gone, I figured I could never catch up. So, I just quit.” You let out a long breath after you finished. You didn’t realize just how much you had been holding in. You chance a glance at Sunoo, and he looks understanding. Not pitious, but genuinely understanding. He nods solemnly.

“I’m sorry you went through that. I don’t mean to invalidate your experience, but I can kinda understand what you went through. I, myself, have always had some problems with my health.” He picks at his nails before continuing, his voice small. “In fact, right before I moved here I had to have major surgery. I couldn’t dance for a couple months afterwards. Going back was really scary, especially when I knew that it wasn’t guaranteed that I’d be completely healthy afterwards. Even still, I have to take a lot of breaks when I dance, but I try to not let fear stop me from doing what I love.” Your heart tightens, and you realize that the boy in front of you is more than just sunshine and giggles. He’s a person, with true problems. How he chooses to face them, though, is what makes him different from most.

“I’ve actually…never told anyone that since moving out here. I don’t want anyone to look at me any differently,” he continues with a sour smile on his face. You reach out and put a hand on his shoulder. He looks at it worriedly before looking at you. You smile at him as gently as you can.

“I don’t see you any differently than who you are, and I’m sure that no one else will either, if you decide to tell them.” His smile turns sweet, into the one you’re more used to seeing on him.

“I’ve never told anyone about my family member before either. I didn’t want them to worry.” You eye your friends when you say this, calming down when you see them still laughing together on the other side of the room. “I just told them I felt like it wasn’t time for me to rejoin the team, and while they don’t know everything that’s going on, I think they understand. That’s just the kind of people they are. They’ll care for you, no matter what you tell or do for them in return.” You turn back to Sunoo, who’s already looking at you, a thoughtful smile on his face. You try to match his look, but Yuna calls him back before you can.

“Hey, Sir Smiles-a-Lot, let’s get back to work.” His eyes widen in surprise, and he scrambles up to get back in formation. He arrives in his spot next to Jungwon, who pokes him with his elbow and whispers something in Sunoo’s ear. Sunoo pushes Jungwon off with an embarrassed grin on his face, shaking his head. You chuckle at their antics.

***

Riki is an idiot. You have to refrain yourself from telling him such as you stay behind in the chemistry classroom, finishing the lab that he was joking so much during that the two of you didn’t finish your experiment. You grumble under your breath once you finish, packing your stuff and all but sprinting away from him. You spare a glance behind you at him, and he looks completely unbothered, hands in his pockets as he whistles down the hallway. You roll your eyes.

When you reach the cafeteria doors you slow down, smoothing over your outfit before calmly walking in. You spot your friends across the room and wave, but they don’t notice you. Instead, they’re leaned in towards Sunoo, whose face is sheepish as he talks. He’s fighting a smile, while everyone else bears smirks. Their conversation becomes clearer as you get closer.

“I dunno, she just makes me happy. But please, don’t tell her. I’m not ready,” you hear from Sunoo.

You calmly take your usual seat across from Sunoo, pulling your lunch out of your backpack. Usually, Jay fills you in on what you missed when you arrive late to a conversation, so the fact that he’s oddly quiet right now is kind of concerning. (It’s one of the things you like about him.) That, and the fact that he usually can’t stay quiet for longer than a minute. (Something else you like about him.) No one speaks up, so you assume the conversation wasn’t meant for you to hear. You can’t say it doesn’t hurt, but you decide to respect their privacy.

The silence is killing me, though. Thankfully, someone walks into the cafeteria right at that moment.

“Hey, Jay; Wonyoung, 12 o’ clock,” you say as you notice Jay’s crush walk through the doors of the cafeteria. Everyone turns around to look at her. You are disappointed that you can’t deny that she’s beautiful. No one can.

Her long beachy waves flow behind her and her frame is toned and skinny. Her eyes are big and bright. She’s gorgeous. She’s everything Jay deserves.

“Who are we kidding? Jay can’t pull her,” Heeseung snorts. Sunoo furrows his eyebrows as he watches her sit at a table with her friends. Jay glares at Heeseung.

“I can and I will. Just you wait. A girl like her deserves a strong, awesome man like me,” he says with a confident, almost cocky smile. You pick at your lunch after that, suddenly not feeling as hungry. Sunoo notices. He grabs your right hand with his left and when your attention turns towards him, his eyes ask you if you’re okay. You nod and press your lips into a smile. You pray he doesn’t notice your eyes tearing up.

To your luck, he doesn’t, and nods back at you before returning to his food, but leaving his hand on yours. It trembles slightly, but comforts you nonetheless.

***

The lights are fluorescent in Sunoo’s bathroom. He’s perched on a stool in front of you. Next to you, Jay reads the instructions for the hair dye.

“Apply generously to the hair, then leave to set for 2 minutes. Rinse hair thoroughly with water and let air dry,” Jay relays. You nod your head before meeting Sunoo’s eyes in the mirror. He smiles at you. You wink at him. Jay watches.

“Okay…” he interrupts, his face in a grimace. “Let’s do this thing.” Sunoo quickly brushes his hair before shaking it out. You and Jay put on the plastic gloves included in the boxes of dye. You squeeze a sizable amount of the dye onto your hands, throwing a mischievous grin at the two boys as you do. You rub your hands together, hovering them over Sunoo’s head. You meet his eyes in the mirror once again.

“You ready?” you ask.

He swallows. Then nods. “Mhm.”

You press your hands onto his head, then start combing your fingers through it. Sunoo shivers once, then twice. You pause. ‘You good?,’ you ask with your eyes. He nods. You continue.

You and Jay stand on opposite sides of his head, combing the dye through Sunoo’s hair. He closes his eyes and hums in content. Music plays quietly from Jay’s phone, because according to him, it was “too quiet in here”.

You bop your head along lightly to the music as you work, before you feel a slight sense. You furrow your eyebrows and turn to the mirror to find Sunoo watching you with a slight smile on his face. He doesn’t turn away when you catch him, either. You shake your head with a smile and return to your work.

A couple of minutes later, you’re finishing up the last section of Sunoo’s hair when the doorbell rings.

“That’s probably Heeseung with the food. I’m done my side, I’ll go get it,” Jay says, taking off his gloves. He leaves the room to answer the door, leaving you and Sunoo in the bathroom.

You break the silence first. “So, why pink?,” you ask. Sunoo chuckles.

“I don’t really know. Just because?” He answers. “My mom always called me ‘her peach’, maybe that inspired it.” You stick out your bottom lip with a small laugh.

“You know what? I do see it, though!” You both laugh. It goes silent again. Sunoo has his lips pressed together. He looks to be deep in thought.

“Y/N, I need to tell you somethi-“ he starts.

“Can I see it?” Heeseung shouts, bursting into the bathroom. He gasps at Sunoo’s new hair, even though it hasn’t been rinsed yet. “It’s pink, I love it.” Sunoo laughs, although it sounds slightly forced.

“Is everyone else here yet?,” you ask. Heeseung nods.

“Yeah, they’re unpacking the food in the kitchen.” You drop your mouth open in faux shock.

“Make sure Jungwon doesn’t eat all the Hawaiian pizza! I know how he gets.” Heeseung laughs as he walks out the bathroom.

“Will do,” he throws back as he leaves.

You clap your hands together, finished with Sunoo’s hair. “All done!” He grins and claps his hands together, and you can’t deny it’s adorable. His eyes squint together and his cheeks puff out. You decide against poking them, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t want to.

“Ready to rinse?,” you ask, and he nods enthusiastically. You lead him over to his tub and turn on the water while he kneels down. Once it’s warm, you guide his head under and begin rinsing out the excess dye. You comb your fingers through his strands and scratch his scalp lightly.

“Oh my god,” he mumbles. You chuckle.

“Feels nice?,” you ask.

“You have no idea,” he replies. “Especially because it’s you,” he adds softly.

You hesitate. “What does that mean?,” you ask with a small laugh.

“Everything.” He doesn’t continue, and you don’t press further. You turn off the water and Sunoo shakes out his hair. You laugh as droplets land on you, and shove him lightly. He smiles teasingly and takes the towel from your hands, drying his hair with it before resting it over his shoulders. He walks over to the mirror, checking out his new hair color. You put your hands on your hips beside him.

“So, what do you think?”

“I love it,” he says, and the smile on his face is huge as he does. He wraps you in a hug and squeezes tightly.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into your neck. You hesitate, surprised, before responding and wrapping your arms back around him.

“Of course,” you reply, scratching the back of his head. He hums, and the two of you stay that way for a while.

Until Chaeryeong clears her throat.

You pull apart, turning to see her standing in the doorway, an awkward look on her face. “Uh, I was just wondering if you knew how to open the umbrella on your patio table,” she spoke out hesitantly, pointing weakly at Sunoo. “We’re about to head outside.”

Sunoo stands there facing her, oddly stiff for a second, and you can’t see the look on his face, but Chaeryeong sends him an apologetic one back. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m coming,” he says, finally.

“Okay, cool,” she sighs, pressing her back to the side of the doorway, letting him pass in front of her. She coughs awkwardly again before following him, and you wash your hands quickly before meeting everyone outside. You grab your slice of pizza and a soda can and bring it outside with you. Sunoo is tightening the umbrella into place, and everyone is talking and laughing with each other. Yuna listens intently as Jay tells a story, and Jungwon and Heeseung are joking with each other until Jungwon notices Chaeryeong’s presence. He waves her over with a smile, and she skips over to where he’s sitting. He wraps an arm around her waist before continuing to talk to Heeseung.

You smile fondly. You love your friends, and it brings you joy to see them happy and enjoying themselves like this. Sunoo comes over to stand next to you.

“What are you thinking?,” he asks. You turn to him and smile.

“I just love you guys,” you beam, before taking a seat at the table. You didn’t notice Sunoo’s hand slightly outstretched to try and brush with yours.

Nor do you hear him whisper, “if only you knew” before sitting down and taking the seat next to you.

***

It’s cold in Jay’s basement. You ask him several times if you guys can move to his much warmer living room, but he refuses. ‘The vibes are better down here,’ he says, although you don’t see how a dartboard and one wall of LED lights give a room “better vibes”.

You rub your hands up and down your arms for what feels like the 20th time when you feel something drop onto your shoulders. You look up to see Sunoo walking back to his seat on the loveseat across the room before pulling the mystery item off your shoulders. A white hoodie. The same white hoodie Sunoo arrived wearing. You send him a grateful smile as you slip your arms through the sleeves. He nods bashfully back at you.

Heeseung claps his hands together, effectively grabbing everyone’s attention. “Alright losers, who wants to play truth or dare?”

“Me,” Jungwon answers without hesitation, sitting up in his seat. Chaeryeong watches how Jungwon reacts and replies in a similar way to him, tucking her legs under herself and agreeing to the game. Jay shrugs.

“Actually, not really. I always get picked to do the worst dares,” Yuna replies glumly. Heeseung rolls his eyes before whispering something in her ear, and her eyes light up before she speaks again.

“But on second thought, I think today will be my lucky day.”

You see Sunoo look at you, trying to gage how you’ll respond. You pull his hoodie tighter around you before agreeing. He nods his head after you respond.

“Okay good. Let’s start with Jay. Jay, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Lame,” Jungwon shouts. Yuna and Sunoo chuckle. Jay rolls his eyes.

“Okay…what’s your favorite thing about me?” Heeseung asks. Jay ponders for a while, his head dropping in thought. He lifts it up again when he comes up with an answer.

“How you always manage to make everyone laugh. It just comes so naturally to you, and I’ve honestly always been a bit jealous of that,” Jay speaks quietly, admitting something really personal to him. Heeseung nods slowly before also shouting out “lame!” Everyone in the room bursts into laughter, and Jay rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing too. “Alright, Jay, you ask next.” Jay looks around the room before choosing his next victim.

“Yuna.” Her face drops as she hears her name called. She tucks her hair behind her ear as Jay asks the question. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she replies confidently. Jay smiles evilly.

“Speak in your Hussey accent until your next turn.” Yuna freezes.

“Don’t do this, Jay, I thought we agreed to forget about Hussey-,” she pleads.

“Ah, does that sound like Hussey to you? Cause it sure doesn’t to me.” Everyone laughs as Yuna rolls her eyes. You take advantage of the commotion to walk over to Sunoo, and he scoots over in anticipation of you. However, he’s already sharing the seat with Jungwon, so your legs are pressed against each other’s when you sit. Sunoo’s face is red, but he was laughing pretty hard at Yuna’s misfortune and continues to act like normal so you choose to ignore it.

“You’re gonna enjoy this. Hussey is what we call Yuna’s god-awful southern accent,” you lean in to tell Sunoo. He laughs even harder at this, clapping his hands and doubling over. Yuna clears her throat before speaking.

“I wayn’t furgut thus, Jayuh Pahk,” Yuna stumbles out, glaring at Jay as he falls over laughing. Sunoo and I fall into each other as we laugh at her horrible accent.

Once everyone manages to calm down (which takes way longer than it should), it’s Yuna’s turn to ask.

“Chaeryeong, truth or dare?” Chaeryeong seems unworried as she makes her choice.

“Truth.” ‘Fatal mistake, Chaeryeong,’ you think.

“Is ayt true you got a crursh on Jungwon?” Yuna asks, keeping up with her accent. Chaeryeong’s eyes shoot open. Jungwon sits up straight at the mention of his name. His eyebrows are raised as he looks at Chaeryeong expectantly. Chaeryeong waves her hands out in front of her as her face turns red, stuttering out ‘no’ in almost any way she can. She’s completely lying, of course.

Jay and Heeseung laugh at how flustered Chaeryeong becomes. Jungwon’s eyebrows drop back down.

“So you don’t like me?,” he tries to clarify.

“Uh, no. No no no.” She laughs awkwardly as she tucks her hair behind her ear and covers her mouth with her hand. Jungwon nods before turning away, and the second he does Chaeryeong sends Yuna the nastiest glare you’ve ever seen. Yuna completely ignores it.

“Hm, alrighty then. Chaeryeong, yur turn.” Chaeryeong lets out a sigh before looking around the room, ready to pass the embarrassment she just felt onto someone else.

“Sunoo.” You feel him stiffen beside you, and you pat his leg to comfort him. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth?,” he asks warily. Chaeryeong pretends to think, tapping her chin with her finger. She snaps when she “comes up” with an answer.

“Is it true you think Y/N is really pretty?” Everyone’s jaw drops except for yours. You’re confused. Why you?

“Uh…” he starts. Chaeryeong cuts him off.

“Cause you were telling us the other day you thought she had crystals for eyes. You know, after the hour long rant about her smile-“

“YES, yes I think she’s pretty. We can move on now, right?,” he shouts through gritted teeth. Chaeryeong smiles proudly.

You nudge Sunoo. “Thanks, bud. You’re not too bad looking yourself.” Beside him, Jungwon cringes.

He chuckles awkwardly before shaking his head. “Ok, uh, Y/N, truth or dare?” You suck in a breath before answering. “Dare.”

“Alright, uh, hop on one-,” he stops when Heeseung abruptly jumps out of his seat to whisper something into Sunoo’s ear. ‘A lot of whispering seems to be happening lately,’ you muse.

Sunoo shakes his head fervently at whatever Heeseung says, and Heeseung rolls his eyes before whispering again. Sunoo sighs, and glances at you before looking down at his shoes.

“I dare you to hold hands with the most attractive person in the room,” he mumbles. He then looks up at you, almost hopefully, but his face drops when you stand up. You trudge across the room to where Jay is sitting on the floor and plop down next to him before grabbing his hand and putting it in yours.

“Don’t get any ideas, Park, I’m just being objective here,” you mumble, hoping your attempt at neutrality deters the group from realizing your true feelings for Jay.

“But I have so many ideas right now,” he blurts out. You facepalm into your free hand.

The room is silent, and you lift your head again to find everyone staring at you and Jay, shocked. Except for Sunoo, who has a look on his face you can’t quite read. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

Chaeryeong clears her throat and Heeseung squirms in his seat. Jungwon licks his lips before announcing that he doesn’t want to play anymore. Chaeryeong agrees, suggesting we watch a movie instead. Sunoo sits silently before getting up, mumbling a small “bathroom” as he speedwalks out of the frigid basement. Heeseung drops his head.

“You guys think he’s ok?” you ask, going back to your original seat on the couch.

“No, you dimwit, you just broke his heart,” Jungwon sighs, leaning back in his seat and rolling his eyes.

“What?” you exclaim, looking at everyone else for clarification, but they all have the same pitious and disappointed looks on their faces.

“Are you blind?” Yuna shouts. “He’s been, like, in love with you since he met you.” Off to the side, Chaeryeong nods.

“This is all my fault,” Heeseung says to no one in particular. His head is in his hands and he speaks with disbelief. “I thought this would work, I-I’m such an idiot.”

Your words are caught in your throat. You have to say it. You blurt it out before anyone can stop you-

“I like Jay.” Once again, all eyes are on you.

“WHAT?” Jungwon screams.

You repeat yourself. “I-I like Jay. I have for, like, a year now.” You spare a look at him, and his face is scrunched into a mixture of surprise and disgust. Ouch.

“But I like Wonyoung,” he replies.

“Dude, you’re never going to end up with Wonyoung, get over it,” Heeseung sighs.

“I know! I know, but I had to reject Y/N somehow.”

“Ouch,” you sigh, voicing your feelings this time. His face turns apologetic.

“I’m sorry, it’s just — I thought you liked Sunoo back! You’re always talking to him.”

“Yeah, cause we’re friends! Excuse me for not assuming everyone I talk to has a crush on me.”

“Is in love with,” Jungwon corrects.

“Thank you, Jungwon, cause that is so important right now!” you shout, frustrated.

“It is!” He retorts.

“I like Jungwon,” Chaeryeong spits out, looking straight ahead.

“Oh thank god,” Jungwon rushes out before getting out of his seat and straight up kissing her. You and Jay look at each other in amazement at what’s going on.

It’s only then that Sunoo makes his presence known once again.

“What is going on?,” he asks, standing on the edge of the stairs. Everyone freezes and turns to him, save for Chaeryeong and Jungwon who are still making out in the chair. You stand up.

“Can we talk?,” you ask him softly. He presses his lips together and nods. You walk over and take his hand, leading him upstairs.

Once you reach Jay’s living room, you take a quick scan, ensuring that the room is empty. Once you’re sure that it is, you seat Sunoo down on the couch. It’s quiet for a minute, as you try to read his expression, but for once, he’s guarded, and you can’t tell what he’s thinking at all. It’s unlike him, and you don’t like it at all.

You take a deep breath before speaking. “I’m sorry. Everyone just told me about how you… feel about me. I had no idea.”

He looks down. “That’s ok. I was trying to keep it a secret. Heeseung told me I should give you that dare to see how you felt about me. I didn’t want to, but he insisted. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that,” he says. It’s quiet for a beat, before he continues.

“I wasn’t really sure how you felt about me, but I know that you’re it for me. You’re kind, sweet, beautiful, funny, and so purely awesome. Being around you makes me feel like the luckiest guy in the world to be able to be in your presence… I was actually planning to ask you out tonight, after we all finished hanging out, but since I know you don’t feel the same I’ll just-“

And in that moment, a couple things run through your mind. You take in Sunoo’s disappointed face, trying to remain strong as you are about to potentially reject him. You remember Jay’s reaction when you voiced your feelings for him, and that he doesn’t share your affections. Instead, he likes Wonyoung, a beautiful girl that you don’t feel you’ll ever be able to measure up to.

This all swirls around in your mind, one thought racing after another, and you think it’s this brain tornado fogging your line of thought that causes you to respond-

“I’d go out with you.” Your jaw drops, and you quickly cover it with your hand. Sunoo finally meets your eyes, and they begin to sparkle with the same shine that you’re used to on him.

“R-really?,” he asks. You blink, processing what you’ve just subjected yourself to, before nodding hesitantly.

“Y-yeah. Sure I will.” You try to give as convincing of a smile as you can. You know, deep down, that you’ve made the wrong decision thanks to your big mouth, but you’re in too deep now to retract your statement. Sunoo wraps you in a big hug, the tightness of it broadcasting how excited he is. When he lets go, he immediately grabs both of your hands in his.

“Wow! I can’t believe it! Uh- thank you! I mean, uh, yeah! Wow! That’s cool. Haha, awesome,” he exclaims.

“I’m gonna go tell everybody downstairs,” he says, before jumping out of his seat and rushing back down to the basement.

You look at where he just sat, mind reeling over everything that just went down. You reminisce on the fate you just accepted: going on a date with a boy you only feel friendship for. You heave a deep sigh, before getting up, and following him down the stairs, preparing to keep the illusion going.

What have you just done?

an ; i hope you liked it! weird ending i know but it’s all setup for the part 2 :)

much love!

ivy ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

[marinetteplztakeabreak]

Another little essay on the mls5 finale

Tl;dr Gabriel Agreste Was Not Redeemed but it Makes Sense to feel weird and gross about it! And i think it was definitely Designed that way and did a very cool job of showing some complicated things

(Under a cut for ml s5 finale spoilers and also She-Ra spoilers because i’m comparing arcs, you dont have to have seen she-ra for this to make sense just, you will get spoilers)

Gabriel Agreste’s death reminded me IMMENSELY of shadow weaver’s death in she-ra. it left me with the same emotions. and i think they’re both Clearly trying to show the same thing

In both, there is this, almost *parody* of a heroic sacrifice??? There is a villain/abusive parent who is SHOWN repeatedly to be evil and to Cause Repeated Harm to their child/main character. But the main character can never quite renounce them because they’re always thrown the tiniest scraps at the very last minute. And this main character is trapped in a never ending cycle of needing to crawl back for help because despite it all they WANT to believe that there is some Pure Underlying Motive behind it all and that actually their parent DOES love them and IS good. Because who WOULDN’T want to believe that, especially in moments of terror and lonliness and the world falling to pieces???

And BOTH of these villains die by a “heroic sacrifice” that THEY think redeems them. They both die as a sacrifice ONLY when it’s a last resort and they’re going to die ANYWAYS if they DONT do anything. and they both make SURE that a child they’ve traumatized On Purpose is Watching Them Die Heroically. For both of them there’s this element of… their death is one last act of traumatizing the person they’re saving and ALSO one last act of making them feel Trapped and like they are In Debt and Have To Stay Loyal to their abusive parent?????

Like???? Gabriel LITERALLY does those tears that may or may not have been fake but were Definitely weaponized to play with marinette’s moral compass and catch her off guard. followed by the like… cackling evil villain act. Istg he was like Playing with marinette like a little ragdoll and Relishing in how Helpless she was as he made the wish. He KNEW he had her trapped, not just By The Miraculous but also Emotionally. He KNEW she had no one else to turn to. He KNEW he held the cards and he could say “make sure adrien remembers me as a hero” and that she’d HAVE to do it. Because he was about to die in front of her and she was going to be messed up by the whole thing and all these secrets and she wasn’t gonna have much choice other than to just Believe He Was Right And Good. As a coping mechanism.

And i think,,, there’s this aura of… he Genuinely thinks he has won. He thinks that he has succeeded in being a Good Father. He thinks that he has Manipulated and Snared his way into being a Hero and Right because he thinks that’s a thing you can do!!!! He doesn’t even consider changing his ways, not when natalie AND adrien AND ladybug all BEG him to listen. He doesnt consider treating anyone else as a person or admitting he could be wrong????? He just doubles down Harder and goes “hahaaaa i have manipulated and traumatized this teenager into continuing my lies and making up a narrative for me where im the hero… this is the same as being a genuienly good parent.”

And i GET the feelings of grossness bc that was a gross thing he did!!!! I agree!!!

But i DONT think he got to get away free or be redeemed????

If anything, it gave me the same gut feeling as shadow weaver’s death in she ra????? Like????? This is the Final Proof that he’s beyond saving because he cant even DIE without using it as one last opportunity to hurt someone he should be protecting????? And he doesnt even Realize that’s messed up he’s just like “heehee i win at tricking those stupid little teenagers into thinking im a hero” with no sense of self reflection.

After watching through that scene a few times i am CONFIDENT it was meant to come off that way and im not actually Sure how much they’ll address it??????

(And im also a teensy bit confused because??? I dont know who the target audience is at this point??? If it really is little kids as the target i am Sure they’ll address it blatantly but the show’s been getting darker and more Nuanced lately. But this is a different point)

but even if they DON’T!!!!! This is just!!! So similar to shadow weaver’s death in she-ra, another cartoon theoretically aimed at children and they DIDNT even address that one at all because it was just,,,,,, SO obvious that even if she DID save the main characters with her death she also used it as a way to twist the knife?????

And so far ive just been talking about Recreation Specifically???? But the REASON gane was dying was bc he literally CATACLYSMED HIMSELF with chat’s hand as a way to trauamtize ladynoir because he thought it would catch them off guard and screw with them!!!!!!!!!!

This is not the narrative saying “oh he had good intentions and was right all along uwu” to me, this was very clearly the narrative saying “sometimes people are so far convinced that theyre the only one that matters that they cant even DIE without using it as a way to hurt and manipulate everyone they should be supporting and wow can that screw people up when they’re left to pick up those pieces and leave them with a complicated mess of emotions.”

and also its saying that it is in fact okay to hate your dead parents if they sucked . And its okay to be have complicated feelings about it, u dont have to be able to make an opinion immediately or seperate yourself from the situation. Sometimes it hurts and you mourn what you shouldve had Anyway.

And i think just like she ra, this is a very Mature and Complicated take and its Okay to have mixed feelings about it, but i just wanted to reassure people that the ending absolutely did not say that gabe was a good person.

It MIGHT have said that the wish actually helped make the world better!!! We don’t know that part yet!!!!

But we DO know that it said,,,,, even IF gabe made One Good Decision, he did it at the cost of everyone he should have been supporting and died with everyone he loved hating him for Good Reason and he used his last seconds of life to traumatize and manipulate a scared little kid into telling everyone he was A Hero . And he was not above beating up and hurting said little kid (ladybug) for funsies. I think even IF his wish IS proven to be A Good Thing (big if) there will STILL be a very valid question of “was it worth it.” There will still be tons of trauma on adrien and marinette’s part that Isnt going away. And that is on him and him alone

[bronx-bomber87]

Had some free time this Saturday thought get another review in. <3

We Move onto Episode 6 of S1 in this series re-watch.

1x06 'The Hawke'

Ep begins the ep with a Tim Test for Lucy. (It really started with a Cold open of her flipping their car with them both in it LOL) But I digress haha She’s passing his questions with flying colors. That is until he asks 'What is the most important part of this guys file?' She gets it wrong and he of course corrects her with the start of his lesson.

Tim is questioning her skills to out think a crook. Not only that but to think like one does. The goal is to see if they can’t find out where he hides his contraband. Lucy naturally is ready to prove him wrong. To get in there and find what they need. To win this current lesson of his. Tim always with the hard ass reply to her. Telling her she’s not used to being in such a mindset. That if she wants to be a good cop she’s gonna have to think like a crook a little. Or as he put it 'Outlaw'

Ahh Protective Tim. My fav. Smacking this perv in the back of the head for making lewd comments toward Lucy. Telling him to learn some respect. Doesn't even let him look at her after that. He's trying to teach her a lesson not have this guy ogle Lucy in the process. I do enjoy Tim teaching her the D.E.A.R search method. A tactic used to help find where repeat offenders hide things. Fun to watch how he uncovers everything with each letter. She’s dutifully writing it all down. She’s eager to soak it all up until they get to ‘R’ LOL

Poor Lucy at the mercy of being a rookie. Also at the mercy of this current lesson of his. She’s so repulsed at the idea of having to do the ’R’ of this method. Did her best to try and get out of it. Tim just gives her his patented hard ass look and she knows she is defeated on this one. Walks away resigned with her gloves.

Her face when she walks back out after doing ‘Repulsive’ if looks could kill....She’s so damn mad at him for making her do that. Not only making her do that but he found the stash while she did. Tells him like it is per usual, but he’s too damn giddy to let it get to him. Acting like he's done nothing wrong to her with his 'What?'

He proceeds to soak up this moment some more. That smile on his face. God he genuinely loves getting under her skin so much. Teaching her a lesson while enjoying himself on the side. Look at that man’s face LOL he is legit so happy she’s disgruntled about this. This is so much fun for him. You are enjoying yourself way too much Timothy haha

No gif for the scene with them chasing Hawke in their shop sadly, its too bad it's a good one. It sets up their final scene of the ep. Tim/Lucy are chasing Hawke with the others. Talking about how they’re gonna find him and take him down without his son being harmed. Tim mentions how they’ve turned all the lights green. Which means they’re funneling him toward them and he won't realize it till its too late. She calls him the D.E.A.R method incarnate. Which I’m sure Tim is taking as a compliment.

Lucy tells him he must have a tactic for everything. He replies to her "Yeah probably' She then grills him on how he would handled being robbed at gunpoint. He tells her he has a fake empty wallet. He would drop that first before pulling his piece. She’s intrigued and asks where he keeps his actual money and cards. Tells her in a money clip behind his belt. Lucy is bemused and calls him weird haha They’re so cute.

Mini moment here. Lucy trying to help Tim’s wounded pride (or so he thinks) with a sweet touch and a look. He’s clearly embarrassed Hawke took him and John down so quickly. We find out later why she really did this. To gain access to his money clip. But I shall take the touch/look none the less. haha

Best part of the episode right here. Once again Lucy returning fire on Tim in the best way possible. By taking what Tim taught her and frankly tortured her with earlier to prank him back. Now it’s her turn to be enjoying herself too much. The amount of enjoyment she's getting out of teasing him is glorious.

He's genuinely so confused at her response. Wondering why she is telling him about him cleaning the dishes. It cracks me up so hard. He's not sure where she is going with his and he's annoyed she's one taken his clip and two is taunting him. Then she delivers the one two sucker punch of a line to him, and it all becomes clear.

Throwing back his words at him once again. She is so damn proud of herself when she tells him might want to ‘glove up.’ The sass and fire she throws his way is unreal. Regardless of where Tim is emotionally still with Isabel. This is a work flirt on top of getting him back that just happened right here. Eric/Melissa's chemistry on full display.

Tim can’t decide if he’s angry or just really damn impressed with her. I’m leaning more towards impressed. She took what he taught her and got back at him for having her ‘glove up.’ This is brilliant and it’s written all over his face. He’s more impressed she pulled this off than anything else. She’s the clear winner of the day and all he can do is smile and concede that she got she got him real good. Adorable. I love them so much.

~~~~

Side notes I do love Tim questioning when Nolan does anything remotely cool like hang out with Hawke LOL Tim seems slightly underwhelmed with him at all times haha makes me laugh. Sorry John hahaha

I love any and all Capt. Zoe scenes. I forget how much I love her every time I watch her scenes. They gave her a rich background and solid important scenes whenever she graced our scenes.

Cracked me up Talia just walking in and pepper spraying Hawke while he tries to school Tim and Nolan. Lucy backing her up with her taser after Hawke took both down LOL Got too cocky and the girls made him pay ha

Thank you to these incredible blogs for the beautiful gifs to help me relay my thoughts and insights.

chenfordsource

Thesweetnessandthesarcasm

chenfordgifs

Feel free to as always like/comment/reblog as you'd like. Truly enjoy sharing my thoughts with you all. Making this hiatus more bearable and you all doing those things make my heart happy hehe See you all in 1x07 when I post it.

[wsdalt]

Hello! Quick question about Felps characterization if you don't mind!

Mainly, do you have any tips on speech patterns? Like, repeated phrases/how they're repeated, and general voice things like that? (Genuinely the one thing I struggle with most ._. )

okay… unfortunately voice is also one of the things I struggle with—at least to put it down into words as an explanation? I’m not fluent in Portuguese which means a lot of dialogue quirks I’d otherwise pick up in English I probably miss. also this is off the top of my head so… maybe I’m just missing stuff due to bad memory in general oops

that being said: I will give it my best attempt \o/

(if anyone who is fluent in Portuguese would like to add on or correct anything I’m saying please do!)

firstly I would like to direct you to @/echotune’s mcyt character voice cheatsheet because I’ve written up bits for his character to go there before. It’s not exactly specific phrases, but I think knowing how he’ll react in certain situations can help make up for not knowing his exact phrasing? or for speech patterns being lost in translation

tone:

Felps’ voice goes high pitched a lot. This is kind of hard to write sometimes—or at least to continuously write in a scene because he kind of just throws his pitch around whenever—but you can add it there. It’s usually when he gets heated about something or… feels strongly about something in general? /if he’s defensive about something? But not really if he’s sad I think. and it’s not all the time so don’t worry about trying to incorporate it every time one of those situations hits

…on the opposite side of that he’s also very… deadpan I suppose? he can deliver absurd lines very casually and deadpan/serious, or absurd lines casually with a smile, or just really really commit to the bit. maybe I mean dry. he can say things very drily

aka 2 part 2: maybe obvious but just to clarify: committing to the bit means incorporating whatever emotion he needs to to commit to the bit. so he’ll fake being upset for example

laughs a lot while speaking, but can also stop himself from laughing fairly easily—specifically regarding the above two points

bursts into tears… fairly easily? but specifically surrounding Richas + he cried at Cellbit and Roier’s wedding. it’s usually only briefly and he kind of tries to suppress it a bit

there’s a specific warning tone he’ll use if someone says an innuendo… to him? I suppose? where he kind of just says the person’s name with that tone (I use “warning” or “chastising” to describe it—depends on what vibe you want in the scene) sometimes repeating their name. It’s always lighthearted though

specific phrases:

(disclaimer: see above note about me not being fluent in Portuguese. I’m trying to grab from when he speaks Portuguese rather than I when he speaks English because I often write him as “speaking” in Portuguese—just translated to English for fic purposes)

“pelo amor de deus” / “meu deus do céu” aka “for the love of god” / “my god in heaven”

I actually don’t think he repeats much? compared to other streamers?* the cc says “valeu valeu” (“thank you thank you”) when thanking subs from memory, but other than that I can’t think of much…? If he does repeat himself it would probably be moreso adding onto his previous sentence and rewording it a bit (*a lot of streamers end up repeating themselves because they’re talking to chat and sometimes this bleeds into how they talk in general). I think you mean more like… phrases that come up a lot, but this is still a good point

I think he throws around “man” and “bro” (the Portuguese equivalents: “velho”, “mano”) a lot, but not necessarily during serious moments (which is why this has faded out of how I write him, but I’m trying to bring it back for less serious moments)

“Sabe?” “Entendeu?” “Né?” “tá ligado?” To be honest I use “you know?” in English for all of these except Né which I write as “right?”. Né is kind of an “innit?” if that helps, but I’m not going to make him sound British so I use “right?” instead. The actual (google translated, sorry) English versions: “sabe?”—“you know?”, “entendeu?”—“understood?”/“understand?”/“got it?”, “tá ligado?”—“are you aware?”/“is it connected?” (which I’m kind of taking as “is it connecting?”) i feel like in Portuguese those last two are a bit more casual…? than what their English counterparts are, which is why I stick with “you know?” as a cover-all. but I could be wrong!

he adds “inho” (etc) to a lot of words. the best English translation is putting “little” before a word

I think your best bet is to watch some Portuguese streams of his—preferably with another character so you can listen to how he speaks with other people not just chat. this can include Richas! But I hope this helps a bit \o/!!

and again—if anyone who knows Portuguese better than me has anything to add or correct please feel free \o/!!